While Replacing Wallpaper in Our New Rental Apartment, We Found a Hidden Message and Immediately Called the Police — Story of the Day

When my fiancé and I moved into a cheaper apartment, we thought the worst we’d face would be noisy neighbors or our strict landlady. But as we peeled off the old wallpaper and uncovered a message written in red, we had no idea it would expose secrets far darker than we imagined.

Change is always hard. It sneaks into your life quietly and rearranges everything before you even realize what’s happening.

Change is always hard

A month ago, my fiancé Mark was demoted at work. We’d spent two years in a sunny apartment close to downtown.

But overnight, his paycheck shrank, and suddenly, my savings had to stretch further than I’d ever planned.

We started looking for a cheaper place, though I could already tell Mark hated the idea.

A month ago, my fiancé Mark was demoted at work

When I found this apartment, I thought it was fine, nothing fancy, but clean, bright, and close enough to my office. Mark disagreed the second he saw it.

“This is still too expensive,” he said.

“It’s the cheapest one that isn’t falling apart,” I replied. “If we go lower, we’ll have leaky ceilings and cockroaches running across the floor.”

“This is still too expensive”

“At least cockroaches don’t charge a security deposit.”

We argued until late that evening, words bouncing off the empty walls. In the end, he gave up, or maybe he just ran out of energy. The next day, we signed the lease.

By the time I got off work on moving day, Mark had already brought most of the boxes.

We argued until late that evening

When I arrived, I saw him standing in the hallway with an older woman.

“Oh,” I said. “Hi.”

“This is Mrs. Doyle,” Mark said. “She owns the place.”

I saw him standing in the hallway with an older woman

“So you’re the fiancée,” she said. “Before you settle in, I have a few rules.”

She handed me a printed sheet. “No guests without my permission. No parties. No more than six visitors at once. No noise after eight p.m. Cleaning, proper cleaning, every week. No pets of any kind. And if you plan to have children, I expect a year’s notice.”

“Before you settle in, I have a few rules”

“A year’s notice?”

“Children cause damage. I like to be prepared.”

I forced a smile and nodded, the paper rustling in my hands. “Got it.”

“I like to be prepared”

“If you want to change anything in the apartment,” she continued, “even wallpaper, it must be approved by me first. And you’ll pay for it yourself.”

“Of course.”

“I live next door, so I’ll be keeping an eye on things. I hope we’ll get along.” She turned and disappeared through her door.

“If you want to change anything in the apartment it must be approved by me first”

The moment she was gone, I exhaled loudly. “Wow,” I said. “Lucky us.”

Mark just shrugged. “You picked this place. Don’t blame me.”

“That’s not fair,” I said. “We both agreed—”

“Lucky us”

“You pushed for it,” he cut me off. “You always do.”

He stood up, grabbed his jacket, and said he was going out for a walk. I reminded him we still had boxes to unpack, but he waved me off. “I’ll do it later.”

When the door closed behind him, the apartment fell silent. I looked around at the half-unpacked boxes, and felt the weight of the day settle on my shoulders.

“You pushed for it”

I woke up on the kitchen floor with a stiff neck and a spoon pressed into my arm. The half-unpacked box of dishes stood beside me, plates and cups piled in messy stacks.

I blinked a few times, trying to remember why I wasn’t in bed.

Mark walked into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes. “What are you doing down there?”

I blinked a few times, trying to remember why I wasn’t in bed

“I guess I passed out,” I said. “Right in the middle of sorting plates.”

He didn’t respond, just opened the fridge and poured himself some juice. I sighed, brushed off the dust from my jeans, and went to take a shower.

When I stepped out, Mark was standing by the door, already dressed and tying his shoes.

“I guess I passed out”

“You’re going somewhere?” I asked.

“Yeah, meeting the guys. Haven’t seen them in a while.”

“Mark,” I said, “we were supposed to go choose wallpaper today. We both have the day off.”

“You’re going somewhere?”

“Can’t you just go on your own?”

“No. We’re supposed to pick it together. Besides, I can’t carry everything myself.”

“Fine. Let’s get it over with.”

“Can’t you just go on your own?”

The trip to the store was silent. I compared colors and textures while he scrolled through his phone, barely looking up.

When I finally chose something simple, he muttered, “Sure, whatever.”

By the time we returned, I was exhausted. “Go inside,” I told him. “I’ll show the wallpaper to Mrs. Doyle so she doesn’t make us redo it later.”

The trip to the store was silent

“Can’t wait to hear what she says.”

I knocked on Mrs. Doyle’s door, she opened it just a few inches, her face sour. “It’s Saturday,” she snapped. “I told you not to disturb me on weekends. Didn’t you read the rules?”

“I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “I didn’t know. I just wanted to check if these wallpapers are fine to use.”

“Didn’t you read the rules?”

Mrs. Doyle looked at the rolls in my hands and said, “Fine. Though I expected better taste. I could’ve rented this apartment for more money, but I decided to give you a chance. Apparently, that was generous enough.”

“Thank you. We’ll start today.”

“I could’ve rented this apartment for more money, but I decided to give you a chance”

“I’ll come by to check when you’re done,” she added.

“Oh… when we’re home, right?” I asked.

She said nothing.

“When we’re home?” I repeated.

“I’ll come by to check when you’re done”

Mrs. Doyle ignored me and shut the door in my face. The sound of the lock clicked like a warning.

I exhaled slowly and went back inside. Mark was stretched out on the couch, scrolling through his phone.

“Seriously?” I asked. “We need to strip the old wallpaper.”

“Seriously?”

“Fine. I’ll take the bedroom. You handle the living room.”

“Of course,” I muttered. “You always pick the smaller room.”

He didn’t answer. We each went to work.

“You always pick the smaller room”

After a few hours, Mark’s voice cut through the silence. “Hey… come here for a second.”

When I walked into the bedroom, he was standing perfectly still in the middle of the room, eyes fixed on one of the walls.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Hey… come here for a second”

He didn’t move, just pointed. “Look.”

My hands went cold, my breath caught halfway in my throat, and I just stood there beside him, unable to say a word.

My eyes traced the message on the wall: GET OUT OF HERE!!!

The words smeared unevenly, red and raw, stretching on the wall.

GET OUT OF HERE!!!

Mark swallowed hard. “We should call the police,” he said finally, his voice low.

I nodded, still staring at the wall. My fingers trembled as I dialed. When the operator answered, I tried to explain, the writing, the paint, the apartment we’d just moved into.

The man on the line snorted softly. “Ma’am, that’s just a prank from the previous tenants. Happens all the time. We’re not sending anyone for that.”

“We should call the police”

“But what if it's not,” I said quickly.

He laughed. “You want a patrol car? I can send one if you’d like to pay a fine for a false report.”

“Never mind.” I hung up.

Mark looked at me. “What did they say?”

“You want a patrol car? I can send one if you’d like to pay a fine for a false report”

“They laughed,” I said. “They’re not coming.”

“Then we should talk to Mrs. Doyle.”

I hesitated. “No. She said she wanted to rent this apartment for more money. Maybe she’s trying to scare us off. Maybe she wrote that herself.”

“They’re not coming”

“Why would she go that far?”

“I don’t know,” I said, glancing back at the wall.

He sighed, already turning toward the door. “Fine. I’ll grab water and a sponge. Let’s wash it off and get those new wallpapers up. I don’t want to look at it anymore.”

“Why would she go that far?”

When he left the room, I stayed. My hand reached out almost on its own, fingertips brushing the letters.

The paint was still slightly sticky, not dripping, but soft, as if it had been done in the last few hours. I stepped back, shivering.

The next day, Mark said he had some errands and left early. The idea of Mrs. Doyle sneaking in while we were gone made my stomach twist.

The paint was still slightly sticky, not dripping, but soft, as if it had been done in the last few hours

I needed proof. So I drove to a store and bought a few small security cameras.

When I got home, I hid them carefully, one in the living room, one near the entrance, and one in the bedroom.

If she tried to come in again, I’d know.

I needed proof

That Monday, I stayed late at work. When I finally returned home, Mrs. Doyle was standing in the hallway, arms crossed. “You and your fiancé need to control yourselves,” she said.

“What?” I blinked. “I don’t understand.”

“I know you’re engaged and young, but this is a residential building. Two hours of that racket today was too much. Some of us like peace and quiet.”

“You and your fiancé need to control yourselves”

“I was at work all day.”

“Don’t lie to me, dear. Next time, I’ll file a complaint.” She turned and disappeared into her apartment.

I stood there for a moment, stunned, then went inside. She had to be lying.

“Don’t lie to me, dear”

Mark wasn’t home yet, so I opened my laptop and checked the camera feed. I fast-forwarded through the morning, Mark and I were leaving for work.

Then, not long after, Mrs. Doyle appeared on screen. She stepped inside, looked around, and then left.

My stomach tightened, but that was all she did.

Mrs. Doyle appeared on screen

An hour later, the footage showed the door opening again. This time, it was Mark. I frowned.

He wasn’t supposed to be home.

He dropped his bag, went to the closet, and pulled out a bucket, filled with something dark red.

He wasn’t supposed to be home

He took it out of the apartment and came back a few minutes later. The writing on the wall wasn’t a warning from strangers, it was his.

I leaned closer to the screen, barely breathing. Then another figure appeared, a woman I didn’t recognize.

Younger, blonde, wearing a short red dress. She wrapped her arms around him, and he kissed her.

Then another figure appeared, a woman I didn’t recognize

I watched in silence as they laughed, then kissed again. At one point, he opened my drawer, took out a few bills, and handed them to the food delivery guy at the door.

When the woman finally left, Mark changed back into his work clothes and left the apartment like nothing had happened.

I slammed the laptop shut and sat there, staring at the wall.

I watched in silence as they laughed, then kissed again

When Mark came home later that night, I was waiting by the door. “I know,” I said the second he stepped inside.

“Know what?”

“I know you wrote the message on the wall. I know you’ve been lying about work, stealing money from me, and bringing another woman here.”

“I know”

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said quickly. “I just hated this apartment. I wanted us to move somewhere cheaper, that’s all. It was supposed to push you to leave.”

“You think the writing on the wall is what matters right now? You cheated on me. You lied. You stole from me.”

“You think the writing on the wall is what matters right now?”

“It doesn’t have to end like this. We can fix it.”

“No, Mark,” I said. “I already packed my things. The movers are coming for the furniture tomorrow. I paid for it, remember?”

“And what am I supposed to do?”

“We can fix it”

I took off my engagement ring and tossed it to the floor between us. “You’ll figure it out. You never wanted to live here anyway. So soon you’ll be evicted for nonpayment.”

I walked out of the apartment, finally glad for the changes in my life, knowing I could live the way I wanted, without cheating fiancés or crazy landladies.

I could live the way I wanted, without cheating fiancés or crazy landladies

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This story is a work of fiction inspired by real events. Names, characters, and details have been altered. Any resemblance is coincidental. The author and publisher disclaim accuracy, liability, and responsibility for interpretations or reliance. If you would like to share your story, please send it to info@amomama.com.