Hello Guys, if you haven't read the first part then you can read it by clicking this link 👉👉 https://cinescope129.blogspot.com/2025/08/the-last-text-from-mira-read-only-three.html Now let's move to the next part guys 😉 “Some doors shouldn’t be opened. But this one… it was already waiting for me.” The knock came again. Three short taps, steady, deliberate. From inside the storage room. We never used it—it was a narrow, dusty space with a single overhead bulb that hadn’t worked in years. It only ever held a few boxes from the last tenant. Or at least, that’s what I thought. The Sound Inside I pressed my ear to the door. Silence. Then— scrape… scrape… like something being dragged slowly across the floor. “Mira?” I whispered. My voice cracked. No reply. I hesitated, phone in hand, ready to call the police. But something stopped me. If Mira was in there, she might not have time to wait for help. I twisted the handle. What I Saw The smell hit first stale air and so...
Hello Guys, if you haven't read the first part then you can read it by clicking this link 👉👉https://cinescope129.blogspot.com/2025/08/the-last-text-from-mira-read-only-three.html
Now let's move to the next part guys 😉
“Some doors shouldn’t be opened. But this one… it was already waiting for me.”
The knock came again. Three short taps, steady, deliberate.
From inside the storage room.
We never used it—it was a narrow, dusty space with a single overhead bulb that hadn’t worked in years. It only ever held a few boxes from the last tenant.
Or at least, that’s what I thought.
The Sound Inside
I pressed my ear to the door. Silence. Then—scrape… scrape… like something being dragged slowly across the floor.
“Mira?” I whispered. My voice cracked.
No reply.
I hesitated, phone in hand, ready to call the police. But something stopped me. If Mira was in there, she might not have time to wait for help.
I twisted the handle.
What I Saw
The smell hit first stale air and something faintly metallic.
The light flickered weakly when I pulled the cord.
The room was empty. Almost.
In the corner, there was a large, black trunk I’d never seen before. Its metal edges were scratched, and its lock was broken.
The scraping sound came again—from inside the trunk.
The Trunk Opens
I crouched down, hands trembling, and slowly lifted the lid.
It wasn’t Mira.
Inside were:
-
A bundle of photographs, each showing the hallway outside our apartment.
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A set of gloves identical to Adrian’s.
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And a folded piece of paper with my name written on it in Mira’s handwriting.
I unfolded it.
Five words, scrawled in red ink:
"He knows you’re alone."
The Footsteps
Before I could process what that meant, I heard footsteps—heavy, slow—coming from the apartment door behind me.
And this time… I knew it wasn’t Mira.
[TO BE CONTINUED…]
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