He arrived just before noon.
I parked far enough away to remain unseen and watched as he stepped out of the car.
He didn’t look around.
He didn’t hesitate.
He walked straight inside.
Something about that bothered me. It was too deliberate, too rehearsed.
I waited.
Ten minutes.
Twenty.
Thirty.
No movement. No sign of anyone else arriving.
Finally, I got out of the car.
Each step toward the house felt heavier than the last. The air was unnaturally still, the kind of silence that presses against your ears.
The front door was unlocked.
Karim never left doors unlocked.
Inside the House
At first glance, everything seemed normal.
The furniture was in place. The windows were closed. There was no sign of forced entry or disturbance.
But then I noticed the smell.
It was the same one I had sensed on his clothes—stronger now. Earthy, metallic… almost like damp stone mixed with something I couldn’t identify.
I moved slowly through the house, my heart pounding.
“Karim?” I called.
No response.
The living room was empty.
The kitchen untouched.
Then I heard it.
A faint sound.
From downstairs.
The Basement
We rarely used the basement. It was more of a storage space than anything else, filled with old furniture and boxes we never unpacked.
The door to it was slightly ajar.
That alone was enough to make my stomach tighten.
I pushed it open.
The air that rose from below was cold and thick, carrying that same strange smell—stronger now, unmistakable.
And then I heard his voice.
Not speaking.
Murmuring.
Low. Rhythmic. Almost like he was repeating something.
I froze.
For a moment, I considered turning back. Pretending I had never come. But something—fear, curiosity, instinct—pushed me forward.
I started down the stairs.
The Discovery
What I saw at the bottom changed everything.
Karim was standing in the center of the basement.
But the basement… wasn’t the same.
The space had been cleared. Completely.
