“The Man Next Door: The Terrifying Truth Behind My Haunted Apartment” – Horror Story

When I Moved Into Flat 401

It started when I moved into a new flat — a modest 1BHK apartment in a slightly old, quiet building in Mumbai. Nothing fancy. Paint was peeling a little in the hallways, the elevator was slow, but rent was reasonable and the location was perfect for work. I live alone, work late hours, and I mostly keep to myself.

My flat was 401.
Next door was 402.

And that’s where he lived.

An older man, probably in his 60s. Always wore the same thing — a loose white kurta and pale cotton pajamas. His hair was thin, neatly parted. His posture? Completely still. Rigid, almost statue-like.

What unsettled me wasn’t his appearance — it was how he always seemed to be standing right behind his door. Watching.

Always Watching

I noticed it on my first night.

Came home late around 11:30 PM. Hallway was quiet. I walked past 402 and noticed the door was slightly ajar — just a few inches. I caught a glimpse of his face in the sliver of darkness.

He was standing there.

Still.
Staring.

I assumed it was a weird coincidence or maybe I imagined it — new surroundings, long day, paranoia. But then it happened again. And again.

Every night I came home, the door was slightly open.
Every morning I left, the same.
And always… his face behind that tiny gap.

Expressionless.
Unblinking.

Sometimes, I’d hear the door gently click shut right after I passed. No footsteps, no sound — just that soft, slow thud, like someone barely touching it from the inside.

I Asked About Him

After a week, I brought it up to the building’s security guard — casually, so I wouldn’t sound like a lunatic.

“Who’s the old man in 402?” I asked.

He looked confused.

“Sir… 402? That flat’s been empty for over three years.”

I blinked. “No, I see him. Every night. He’s always there.”

The guard shook his head.

“The owner passed away. Family never came back. We sealed it. Maybe you’re mistaken.”

I didn’t push the conversation further. He seemed genuine.

That night, I double-locked my door for the first time.