Lan was an office worker, living a quiet life like everyone else. That evening, she left work late and entered the apartment elevator around 9 p.m. Inside, there was only one other person—old man Tư, her upstairs neighbor. He was aged, quiet, often mocked by the children as “the senile old man.”

As soon as the elevator doors closed, he suddenly reached out and pressed the emergency stop. The red light flashed. Lan panicked.

– “What are you doing?”

Old man Tư turned to her, his cloudy eyes filled with urgency.

– “Don’t go home! You… you must run away now!”

Lan froze, her heart pounding.

– “What are you saying? Is there something wrong with my home?”

His voice trembled, barely above a whisper:

– “I heard strange noises outside your door. Not human noises… Believe me, don’t go home.”

Lan forced a laugh. He was probably just being paranoid. But before her smile could fade, the old man grabbed her arm with surprising strength.

– “Listen to me, your life is in danger!”

The elevator air grew suffocating. Lan shook off his grip and pressed the open button. The elevator jolted, then resumed. The doors opened on her floor. Old man Tư shook his head, muttering again and again:

– “Don’t go in… don’t go in…”

Annoyed, Lan stepped out. The old man must be losing his mind. But as she reached her door, a chill ran down her spine: from the gap beneath it, a faint bluish light flickered, as if someone was walking inside. Yet she lived alone.

She hesitated. At that moment, the door opposite creaked open. Mrs. Dung, the upstairs neighbor, peeked out.

– “Lan, you’re back? Go inside quickly before you catch a chill.”

Her voice was familiar, her eyes kind. Lan felt reassured. Surely old man Tư was only trying to scare her. She unlocked her door.

Click! The door opened. Inside was pitch black—no strange light at all. She switched on the lights. Everything was in place. With a sigh of relief, she set her bag down. But when she turned to close the door, she froze: a pair of unfamiliar leather shoes sat neatly on the rack. They weren’t hers.

Cold sweat ran down her back. She clearly remembered leaving the apartment empty that morning. Whose shoes were those?

Suddenly, from the bedroom came the sound of a chair scraping—creeeak… creeeak… Trembling, Lan grabbed her phone to call the police. But as the screen lit up, an unread text appeared:

“Don’t go home.”

Sender: Unknown number.
Time: 8:57 p.m.—exactly while she was still in the elevator.

The bedroom door creaked open. A tall, unfamiliar man stepped out, eyes glinting with menace.

– “Finally, you’re home…” he sneered.

Lan screamed and ran for the door. But the safety lock had somehow been latched. She couldn’t open it. The man advanced, clutching a sharp, gleaming object. Despair swallowed her.

Just then, the front door burst open. Old man Tư and two security guards rushed in. Before the intruder could react, they tackled him to the ground and restrained him.

Lan collapsed in tears. It turned out that after leaving the elevator, old man Tư had immediately alerted security, reporting that he’d seen a shadow slip into her apartment. He wasn’t just an eccentric old man—he was a retired police officer, with failing eyes and ears, but instincts that had never betrayed him.

The man was arrested. He was a wanted fugitive for armed robbery, hiding inside Lan’s home by chance. Had Lan stayed at the office just a little longer, he might have left already. But she returned at the wrong time.

The next day, Lan went to thank old man Tư. The frail old man who once seemed so pitiful had now become her savior. But when she held his hand, he only shook his head.

– “I just did what I had to do. Remember this: people may think I’m senile… but death never jokes.”

Lan stayed silent, tears falling. That night, in the dark elevator, he had saved her life with just two words:

“Don’t go.”