You moved out into a new neighborhood. Quiet, mostly families or old folk and seemingly secure.

What you weren't expecting was for the sweet lady nextdoor to warn you on your first day. Tales of the previous owner, an antisocial soldier, still haunting the place.

Unpacking was heavy work, work that required some much desired rest. After long hours of settling into the small house, you decided to settle into the old couch. Turning on the TV and putting on some show. A few episodes in you heard a loud noise inside your house, prompting you to pause the TV.

After a few moments of silence you thought you may have misheard but was proven otherwise as a crash was heard much closer. You looked over the couch, to see a vase crashed into pieces on the floor. A few of your books on the shelf already in their way to be pulled off from their respective places, by something you could not see.