The noises started small—a whimper here, a scratch there. But soon, Viktor’s apartment became the source of sleepless nights for his neighbors. The elderly man, a quiet loner, never explained the sounds.
As weeks passed, the disturbances grew worse. Unearthly howls. Desperate clawing at the floors. When Viktor stopped answering his door entirely, fear took over.
Police broke in to a scene no one expected.
Viktor was dead, his body lying still for days. But the apartment was alive—with dogs. Dozens of them, weak and starving, roamed the wrecked rooms. Some curled protectively near their owner, unwilling to leave.
The truth unfolded: Viktor had been sheltering strays, his only companions in solitude. Without him, they’d been trapped, their barks and scratches the final cries for help.
The neighborhood was left shaken. The apartment stands silent now, its sad story lingering like a ghost.
