"My Vacant House Was Occupied – By Strangers"

"I bought a house four years ago but never moved in or renovated it. Two years later, I suddenly started receiving utility bills. Confused, I returned to check on the house, only to find strangers living in it! 1. One day, after work, I got a notification on my phone for an overdue utility bill. Staring at the unfamiliar house number on the screen, it took me a moment to realize—I did own a house with that address. It was the house my mom, Sharon Hawkins, had bought for me near my college, thinking I might not enjoy dorm life. But I made a last-minute decision to pursue studies abroad, so the house had been left empty right after renovation. The more I thought about it, the more confused I became. No one should be living in that house, so how on earth were there utility bills? With growing curiosity, I followed the familiar route to Maplewood Heights, the neighborhood where the house was located. … Standing at the front door, I noticed something immediately off. The front door, which I remembered being a dull brown, had been replaced with a brand-new, shiny black security door. I checked the house number again, "808"—yep, this was definitely the right place. Staring at the unfamiliar black door and catching a whiff of a horrible odor leaking from inside, I felt an overwhelming sense of unease. Without hesitation, I called a locksmith. Charlie McIntyre, the locksmith, arrived quickly, giving me a suspicious once-over. “This is your house?” he asked. I quickly pulled out my property deed and ID, handing them over. “Of course! Here are the documents. Check for yourself.” He examined the papers carefully before handing them back, still looking uncertain. “I really need to get inside. How about I pay you an extra hundred?” I offered anxiously. That did the trick. He handed the documents back, crouched down, and opened his toolbox while mumbling, “Strange. Wasn't the last tenant here an old lady?” “What did you say?” I asked, surprised. Before I could probe further, a sharp voice interrupted behind us. “What do you think you're doing?!” Before I could react, my shoulder was shoved hard, and a white-haired old woman—Gloria Pittman—charged forward, pointing a finger at the locksmith's face. “How dare you?! Trying to rob me in broad daylight? In my own home?” Before we could even respond, her hand shot out, scratching Charlie across the face, leaving a deep red mark. He yelped in pain, clutching his nose and pointing at me, “I’m not a thief! He told me to unlock it!” Gloria turned to face me, her eyes scanning me before locking onto the Gold Lion Pendant hanging around my neck. Her expression shifted into one of greed, and she stomped toward me, cursing. “You little punk! Starting a life of crime already? You need a good lesson today!” She lunged at me, reaching out with her claws. I frowned and took a step back, causing her to miss. The old woman immediately changed tactics—collapsing to the ground, dramatically wailing. “Oh ...