For weeks, the neighbours had heard strange noises coming from an elderly mans house, and when they broke down the door and stepped inside the flat, they were horrified by what they saw.
On a quiet street where everyone knew each other by name, only one old man stood outAlfred Whitmore. He barely spoke to anyone, rarely left his flat, and no one knew exactly what he did or how he made a living.
But one thing was certainodd sounds constantly drifted from his house. Sometimes a low growling, as if someone was scratching the walls. Other times, a shriek that sounded almost human, but not quite. Nights were the worst: whining, relentless barking that echoed day after day. Occasionally, it seemed as though something inside was thrashing about in a frenzy.
At first, the neighbours endured it. Then they started knocking on his door, pleading for quiet. Some even left notes:
*”Please sort out the noise. We cant sleep at night.”*
But there was never an answer. Alfred didnt always open the door, and if he stepped out, hed just nod, mumble something vague, and disappear behind it again.
As time passed, concern grew. Some neighbours were convinced he was losing his mind. Others suspected he had people living there. A few even whispered about illegal activities. But no one knew the truth.
Then, one day, everything changed.
For nearly a week, no one saw the old man. His door remained locked, curtains drawn as usual. Yet the noises didnt stopif anything, they grew louder. Nights were filled with frantic howls, gnashing teeth, claws scraping against the floorboards. It sounded like something was desperately trying to escape.
By the seventh day, the neighbours had had enough. Two men went up to his floor and pounded on the door. When no one answered, they called the police, who eventually forced the lock open.
The moment they stepped inside, their blood ran cold.
The flat reeked of stale air and decay. Alfred lay dead on the bedaccording to the coroner, he had been gone for about a week. But the worst part wasnt his lifeless body.
Nearly twenty dogsstarved, exhausted, some barely clinging to liferoamed the flat. Some paced the rooms, while others lay beside his body, refusing to leave it.
The floor was covered in paw prints, waste, shredded furniture, and signs of fights between the animals.
It turned out the old man had been collecting stray dogshiding them, feeding them, sleeping among them. They were his only friends. He never told a soul, afraid someone would take them away.
For seven days, these dogs had been trapped without food or water.
The neighbours never forgot that day, speaking of it in hushed, shaken voices. And the house stood empty ever sinceas if it refused to forget its terrible secret.
