Horror Stories - Viral Story: The Haunting of Apartment 413 | Ghost Story from Thailand Based On True Events

Episode Date: July 17, 2025

Viral story: The haunting of Apartment 413 | you won’t sleep after this terrifying true account from Thailand. A college student looking for a quiet place to stay near campus never expected to face something beyond the natural world. This chilling true ghost story aired on a popular Thai radio station and immediately went viral. The disturbing events that unfolded in Apartment 413 left thousands speechless and terrified. Was it a cursed room? A trapped spirit? Or something even darker? In this terrifying account based on real events, you’ll hear every bone-chilling detail of what happened during those few nights inside the most infamous apartment in Bangkok. Turn down the lights, put on your headphones, and prepare to be haunted. #HauntedApartment #GhostStory #TrueHorrorStory #ThailandGhostStory #Apartment413 #CreepyStories #RealParanormal #ScaryViralStory #GhostsOfThailand #TerrifyingEncounters viral story apartment 413, haunting of apartment 413, true ghost story thailand, real paranormal story, apartment 413 radio call, creepy apartment story, haunted place in thailand, bone chilling ghost stories, true horror encounter, terrifying viral story, ghost story based on real events, haunting in bangkok, real ghost experience thailand, scary apartment stories, student haunted in apartment, chilling true story, paranormal story from asia, haunted room thailand, apartment 413 testimony, terrifying radio call thailand, viral ghost story thailand, horror story that went viral, true scary story from thailand, creepy student experience, supernatural story apartment, haunted dorm tale, ghost story 2025, terrifying apartment haunting, viral true horror, scary viral call, thailand apartment haunting, ghost in apartment 413, ghost story in asia, nightmare apartment story, shocking paranormal story Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

You said this place was steps from the water. We just haven't found the steps yet. How much did we save? Enough. Enough to get lost! Or you could book a stay with Hilton. Welcome to your oceanfront room. Just steps from the water.

The Hilton sale is on now. Book on Hilton.com or the Hilton app and save up to 20% to get the stay you expected. When you want savings, not surprises. It matters where you stay. Hilton, for the stay. Own it all. Pay off your home, travel for life, drive a Ferrari.

In celebration of the world premiere of the Monopoly Big Board Buckslot machine by Aristocrat Gaming, Yamava Resort and Casino at San Manuel is giving one person a $1.6 million dream package. The biggest prize in Yamava's history. Club Serrano members can earn daily instant prizes and secure a spot in the finale May 29th. Don't pass go and own it all. Only at Yamava, celebrating its 40th anniversary. You win? Details at yamava.com must be 21-20.

Please gamble responsibly. Monopoly is a trademark of Hasbro. Hasbro is not a sponsor of this promotion. Hello everyone and welcome back to horror stories. I know many of you use these episodes to fall asleep, so before you drift off, I'd love it if you could leave a comment letting me know where you're listening from around the world. Also, don't forget to like and subscribe if you're enjoying the episodes. In 2017, a chilling story related to an apartment building went viral in Thailand.

This disturbing account comes from a Thai college student who, thinking he was moving closer to campus. ended up immersed in something far darker than he ever imagined. I've translated this experience to share it with you. So get comfortable, turn down the lights, and join me as we uncover what really happened inside apartment number 413. At the time, there was a very popular radio station in Thailand, famous for one thing. They invited listeners to call in and share real supernatural experiences,

apparitions, ghost encounters, unexplained events, Nothing was off limits. One night a young man, we'll call him Dennis, phoned in to share something so disturbing that it went viral across the country. Dennis was about to start his university life. Like many young people, he was excited, hopeful to take that big step into adulthood. He lived quite far from campus, so he started looking for a closer place, something practical, affordable, and hopefully a place he could call home.

It was going to be the beginning of a new phase, his independence, his first experience living alone. He spent several days visiting apartments. He had three things in mind. It had to be cheap, close to the university, and preferably newly renovated. But that combination seemed impossible with the limited budget he had. Everything he visited failed in some way. Too far, too run down, or too expensive. After visiting at least 10 properties without success, his initial excitement turned into exhaustion and frustration.

He decided to take a break and went to see a friend who lived near the campus. He figured that besides catching up, maybe his friend could give him a tip or recommendation. When he arrived at his friend's building, he was surprised. The place was clean, modern, affordable, and just a 10-minute walk from the university. It was everything he had been looking for. He joked to himself. If I'd come here from the start, I would have saved so much time. But sometimes places that seem ideal hide terrible secrets.

For Dennis, the decision was immediate. This was the place. He asked if his friend could put him in touch with the landlord, hoping a recommendation would help. But his friend shook his head. No one knows the owner directly, he explained. Everything's handled through a management office. They deal with the rent, maintenance,

everything. There's a woman in charge of that. She works on the ground floor. They went to the office together, and just as his friend had said, the woman was there. Dennis asked if there was any availability, but she said nothing was free. I'm very sorry, we're completely full, she replied with a smile. Dennis suspected as much, but it still disappointed him. Just when he thought he had finally found the perfect place, it slipped through his fingers, not wanting to give up. he discreetly pulled a 100-bought bill, about $3, from his wallet, and handed it to her as a tip. Please, he said, if anything opens up, any unit at any time call me immediately. It wasn't much, but the woman reacted as if he'd handed her a winning lottery ticket.

She smiled enthusiastically and nodded. I'll see what I can do, she assured him. If something becomes available, I'll call right away. Dennis thanked her, though he didn't have to. much hope. In buildings like that, apartments don't stay vacant long, and if they'd already said it was full. But that same night, just a few hours later, he received a call. It was her. A unit has opened up, she said. If you can come by tomorrow morning to see it, it's available for immediate move-in. He hung up and stared at the phone. Something didn't feel right. That morning

she had said with absolute certainty that the building was full, and now suddenly an apartment had opened up. It didn't make sense. Instead of feeling excited, a chill ran down his spine. That first bad feeling was the first warning. The next morning, Dennis returned to the building with a sense of unease. The woman was waiting in the lobby with a cheerful smile as if they were old friends. After a few minutes of small talk, they started climbing the stairs. Dennis remembered she had said the apartment was on the fourth floor, but when they reached the second level, she suddenly stopped. Weren't we going to the fourth floor? he asked, confused.

She smiled again, but this time her expression felt off. Yes, it's on the fourth floor, but I just remembered I have to take care of something in the office. She said, handing him a key. Go ahead and take a look. If you like it, come. come back down and we'll sign the contract. Dennis looked at the key. It was a standard simple key, but the key chain had the unit number engraved, 413, a cold

number etched in worn out metal. He didn't know why, but when he saw those numbers, something inside him tightened. He hadn't even seen the apartment yet, and already he felt he didn't want it. But he thought, I'm already here. I should at least take a look. I might not get another chance. He climbed to the fourth floor and stood in front of Unit 413. He inserted the key and noticed the lock was stiff as if it hadn't been used in a long time.

When it finally turned, it made a dry, rough metallic sound. As he pushed the door open, it didn't swing smoothly. It creaked, dragging against the frame like it hadn't moved in years. The inside looked normal, though a bit outdated. There was a modest desk, a single bed, a ceiling fan with dusty blades. Everything was intact, just dirty from time. The apartment was identical to his friends. Dennis checked every corner until he noticed something strange stuck to the back of the door.

A talisman. It was the kind used in spiritual rituals to ward off evil energy. He froze. Why was it there? He tried to laugh it off, thinking maybe the previous, tenant was superstitious, but then another thought came. What if someone had died in this apartment? At that moment, Dennis decided he didn't want the place. He returned to the office, handed the key to the woman, and firmly said, thanks, but no, it's not for me. The decoration

on the door made me uneasy. For a moment her smile faded, then reappeared as if nothing had happened. Oh, that, she said with a light laugh. It was from the the previous tenant, very superstitious, but it's nothing bad, quite the opposite. It brings good luck, just decoration. She insisted he reconsider. It's a good unit, clean, safe, good energy. These apartments don't open up often. Then she offered him a deal, reduced the rent from 2,500 to 2,000 bought, about $60, and lowered the deposit from 7,000 to 4,000. Dennis began to hesitate. That discount was too tempting. For a student with little money, those savings were significant. So ignoring the knot in his stomach, he signed the contract. Moving day arrived and Dennis showed up at the building loaded with boxes, bags hanging from his shoulders, ready to begin this new chapter. As he entered the lobby, the security guard, kind and calm, saw him struggling and offered to help. He grabbed the fan with one hand and a coffee, maker with the other, while casually asking,

What unit are you moving into? Dennis smiled. 413. As soon as he said those words, everything changed. The guard's face transformed immediately. His kind expression vanished. His smile disappeared. Without another word, he carefully set the items down on the floor,

looked at Dennis and said, I'm sorry. I just remembered I need to go out and buy something. and just like that he left Dennis stood there confused what kind of guard goes shopping in the middle of a shift it was a strange reaction but once again he decided not to think too much of it since the guard had left him alone Dennis pulled out his phone and called his friend

the one who lived in the building luckily he answered right away and came down to help together they carried the boxes up to the fourth floor sweating and laughing through the effort. Once inside, they cleaned the place, dusted the fan, swept, wiped down the desk. It was actually kind of fun doing it together. When they finished exhausted, his friend gave him a pat on the shoulder and said goodbye. Dennis locked the door behind him, collapsed on the bed, and closed his eyes for a moment. The heat of the day still clung to his skin, and after hauling boxes and cleaning every corner. He was wiped out. He lay there, arms stretched out, breathing slowly, and then he felt it. That unmistakable sensation that someone was watching him. He opened his eyes suddenly and there she was,

sitting in the chair next to the desk, a young woman. She was beautiful. Short black hair framed her face softly. She sat calmly, legs crossed, smiling, as if she had been waiting for him all along. But Dennis didn't feel fear. In fact, he didn't have time to be afraid. Her beauty stunned him. He didn't understand how she had gotten in, why he hadn't heard the door open. She stood up slowly, still wearing that sweet smile.

Her presence felt almost unreal like a dream. She approached the bed, leaned forward a little, and in a soft voice asked, Is it okay if I live here with you? As beautiful as she was, Dennis has a moment. I hesitated. Something inside him lit up. No, he replied sitting up slightly. I don't know you. You can't live here with me. And in that instant everything changed. The girl's smile vanished. Her face began to shift before his eyes. Her skin turned pale, almost corpse-like. Her eyes darkened. Her sweet expression twisted into something terrifying. And then she screamed, can I live here with you? Her voice was no longer soft. It was a shrill, furious shriek that echoed through the apartment as if it came from every direction at once, before he could react.

Dennis jolted awake. He was drenched in sweat, gasping, still lying in bed. The room was empty. It had all been a dream. He sat up slowly, still dazed, his heart pounding. He looked at the clock. One thirty a.m. His shirt was soaked in sweat, his hands trembling.

That scream still faintly echoed in his ears. It had been one of the most vivid nightmares he'd ever had. He scanned the room expecting to see something, but there was no one. Still, the atmosphere felt heavy, as if something invisible filled the air. That night he didn't take any chances. He left all the lights on. He didn't dream again, but the unease remained. The next day he tried to stick to his routine.

He unpacked the rest of his things, organized, cooked something, watched a few videos on his laptop, showered, and went to bed. One more night. But as soon as he closed his eyes, she returned. She was there again sitting in the same chair, but this time it was different. Her face was covered by her hair like a black curtain. She wasn't looking at him. The air was colder. heavier. And then she lifted her head. She was no longer beautiful. Her face was deformed by green and

purple bruises. Swollen eyes cracked lips. A horrifying sight. Dennis couldn't move. He couldn't scream. Only watch. She slowly stood up, crossed the room and climbed onto the bed. She sat on his chest. Dennis tried to gasp, but no air came in. It was like a ton of weight crushing him. He wanted to scream. He wanted to push her off, but his body was paralyzed. She began raising her hands and slowly brought them toward his neck. Dennis was suffocating, trapped in terror. Inside his mind, he began to pray to anything he could think of. Jesus, Buddha, any divine being, nothing. He had never been religious, and now in the most desperate moment of his life, the silence felt like a punishment, until in the midst of the panic an image appeared in his mind. His mother, the one

person he always trusted. With all the strength he had, he screamed, Mom. And then she vanished. The girl disappeared. The weight lifted. Dennis gasped like surfacing after nearly drowning. Was it compassion? Did she see in that cry that he was still just a scared boy? He woke up soaked in sweat, heart pounding. He looked at the clock. 1.30 a.m., exactly the same time as the night before. Dennis no longer knew if he was still asleep or awake. The nightmares were so real, and the pain in his chest was real too.

Dennis sat on the edge of the bed still trembling. The pain in his chest wasn't imaginary. He truly felt it, as if something incredibly heavy had literally crushed him. Was it just sleep paralysis? or was something deeper and far more terrifying happening. After two nights of horrifying nightmares, he couldn't take it anymore. He didn't care whether it was psychological or supernatural. Whatever it was, it felt real to him.

Without overthinking it, he grabbed his phone and called the only person he trusted at that moment, his friend, the one who lived in the same building. Could you sleep here tonight? he asked, trying to sound calm. I don't want to be alone. His friend didn't hesitate. Within minutes there was a knock at the door. He stepped in, looked Dennis in the eyes, and immediately understood this wasn't just anxiety or homesickness.

Something much more serious was happening. Dennis told him everything. The girl. The dreams. The pressure on his chest. Waking up two nights in a row at exactly 1.30 a.m. They sat in that room under a dim light, feeling the weight of the unseen.

After a long silence, his friend quietly said, You should go to the temple tomorrow. Pray. Maybe that'll help. Neither of them was particularly religious, but at that point they were out of options. The next morning Dennis followed through. He went straight to the temple, lit incense, got on his knees, and prayed like never before in his life. Not just out of fear, but out of desperation. Before leaving, he bought a Buddha statue, a simple but serenance. A simple but serenely. figure carefully carved, a symbol of peace, of protection. He returned at the apartment and placed the figure on his desk, right in front of the bed, watching over the room. He stood there for a few minutes staring at it. Something about its presence made the atmosphere feel lighter, calmer. All set, he told himself, I've done what I had to do. I prayed. Buddha is here. I'm protected.

It was his third night in apartment 413, but this time he didn't feel afraid. With Buddha watching from the desk and his prayer is still fresh in his soul, he got into bed with an odd sense of confidence. It's over, he thought. The worst is behind me. He was wrong. As soon as he fell asleep, she came back. The same girl sitting again in the chair beside the desk, head down, motionless. Dennis didn't want to look at her. He knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't help it. Their eyes met, and she started to move. Her body was still covered in bruises, dark blotches from her shoulders to her ankles.

But this time she didn't look directly at him. She looked past him. Slowly she stood, dragged the chair to the center of the room. The leg scraped the floor with a sound that crawled up Dennis's spine. Then he saw it. a thick rope around her neck. The marks were fresh, reddened as if someone or she herself had tied it not long before. Dennis couldn't move, couldn't speak, only watch.

She placed the chair under the ceiling fan, climbed on it, then tied the other end of the rope to the fan, and without hesitation, kicked the chair away. Her body dropped. It hung there, jerking violently. Her legs shook, arms clawed at the air. Her tongue stuck out from her mouth as if trying to scream. Her eyes wide open, fixed, locked onto Dennis's. It was unbearable. Until finally she stopped moving, hung lifeless, dead. The room was utterly silent. Only Dennis's breathing could be heard, shallow, panicked. And then her eyes opened and she smiled. And she smiled. an unnatural crooked smile. Then came the laughter. It wasn't human.

It was shrill, piercing, unbearable. Dennis wanted to scream, but he couldn't. His body wouldn't move. The laughter grew louder, sharper. And in that moment, he wet himself. Lying there, paralyzed, soaked in terror and shame. There was nothing he could do but tremble. She saw him, and it only made her love.

laugh harder. No prayer worked, not even calling out for his mother help this time. Dennis tried everything. Chance he remembered from the temple, desperate pleas, mental cries for help. But the cackling continued. It bounced around every corner of the room. It filled the space, as if the apartment itself was alive. It seemed endless. Until finally he felt his body begin to react. He jolted violently, woke up suddenly, rolled off the bed and hit the floor, soaked in sweat, wet, breathing like he had just escaped death. He crawled to the balcony. He needed air. His heart was pounding like a drum. His hands trembled. From there under the night sky, he looked back into the room. No hanging body, no laughter. Only silence. Another dream. He turned to look at the clock.

1.30 a.m. again. And then something caught his attention. The chair. The same one from his dreams. It was flipped over, lying right under the ceiling fan. His breath stopped. He turned toward the desk. The Buddha statue was no longer facing the bed. It was turned completely around staring at the wall. Someone or something had moved it. It wasn't the wind. And if the spirit had the strength, strength to mock his faith, to move a sacred object. Then maybe that's why no prayer worked. Not even his most desperate cry had helped. But there was one thing that happened every time. Everything always ended exactly at 1.30 a.m. He couldn't take it anymore. With his body shaking, drenched in sweat and tears, Dennis fled apartment 413. He wore only his pajamas. No phone,

no wallet, no documents. None of it mattered. He just wanted to do you. He just wanted to to escape. In the lobby, the security guard, who had already suspected something was wrong, was startled to see him in that state. What happened? He asked, alarmed. Dennis didn't answer. He just said, can I use your phone, please? I need to call my friend. The guard handed it over immediately. Dennis dialed with trembling hands, the same friend who helped him move in. Can I stay with you tonight? He asked, voice broken. I can't go back to that room. Minutes later, his friend appeared in the lobby.

He saw Dennis and didn't ask a single question. He just took him to his apartment. Inside, Dennis collapsed. He cleaned up, took a deep breath, and told him everything. The nightmares, the girl, the rope, the statue, the clock. When he finished, silence filled the room, until his friend in a low voice said, Sounds like she doesn't want you there.

Whoever she is, she's made it clear. You need to leave. That place isn't for you. The next morning, Dennis couldn't stop thinking about everything he had experienced. It wasn't fear that consumed him anymore. It was rage. He wasn't thinking about the girl or the nightmares or the rope or the statue. He was thinking about the woman in the office.

He remembered how at first, she had assured him there were no available apartments. Then suddenly Unit 413 appeared out of nowhere. Like a coincidence. But it wasn't a coincidence. Not with those extreme discounts. Not with the urgency she used to push him to sign. She knew.

She had to know. Dennis's fear turned into burning fury, a rage that pushed him to get up, get dressed, and march out with purpose. He went down to the management office where the woman sat behind her desk, sipping tea as if it were just another normal morning. Dennis didn't wait.

He slammed the counter hard. I want my money back, he said through clenched teeth, his voice trembling with anger. Now, the woman looked up, surprised. She slowly set the cup down on the table. Excuse me, she asked, pretending not to understand. You gave me a haunted apartment, Dennis spat. Don't play dumb.

413. You told me it wasn't available and then suddenly offered it with discounts like it was a bargain. You knew what was in that place. His voice trembled, not just from anger but from the trauma he'd carried for days.

Tell me the truth, he demanded. What happened in that apartment? The woman didn't flinch. She kept looking at her screen then turned her eyes back to Dennis. Her tone was flat. professional, almost indifferent. I'm sorry you had a bad experience, she said calmly.

But it's probably just stress. It's your first time living alone. That's common. I can't just give you a refund. Dennis couldn't believe it. That was it? A cheap excuse? You gave me 413.

You knew what was in there. She remained unfazed, said tenants come and go, and that the unit had just happened to become available. Then Dennis snapped. Fine, he said coldly. If that's how it's going to be, I'll post everything online. Photos, the building's address, everything. Let's see how long it takes for the owner to find out.

And let's see how long you last in this job. One small detail, Dennis kept his word. Thanks to him, this story was shared on the radio. And that's the reason you and I know it today. The room went silent. The woman's expression changed completely. Her four smile vanished. She looked at him with a more serious measured face.

And then she said, in a low voice, calm down, don't do anything impulsive. We can talk. Dennis said nothing. Finally, the woman sighed and began to speak. A few years ago, Unit 413 was rented by a young couple. Both were professors at a nearby university, a beautiful, educated couple, seemingly happy.

One night the man went out with some friends. Meanwhile, the woman alone at home started checking Facebook. Among her notifications, she saw a photo of her boyfriend kissing another woman. The rage, the pain, the betrayal consumed her. She began to harm herself. She punched herself in the face, beat herself up with her fists. And finally, she hanged herself from the ceiling fan. They say she died at exactly 1.30 a.m.

From then on, strange things started happening throughout the fourth floor. Noises, shadows, things moving on their own. Tenants reporting feeling watched. Many began to move out. The building's owner alarmed hired a shaman to contain the phenomenon. He wrote a talisman and placed it on the apartment door, with the intention of sealing the spirit inside. Since then, the paranormal activity on the rest of the floor vanished.

Slowly the other units were reoccupied. The building returned to normal. The owner gave very clear instructions. Unit 413 was to remain empty. Permanently. No one was to rent it out. But over time the story was forgotten. And when Dennis showed up, desperate to move in, the manager saw an opportunity. She rented the unit without informing the owner and kept the money. That's when she realized she had made a mistake. Dennis had spoken on the radio. He was ready to go public. The risk of losing her job, ruining the building's reputation, or even facing legal consequences, wasn't worth it. She returned all his money.

No more excuses, no more resistance. Dennis packed up the few things he had brought with him and left apartment 413 that very day. He never looked back. The story he shared that night on the radio spread like wildfire throughout Thailand. The number 413 took on a new meaning of terror. Many hotels and apartment complexes started having trouble renting out units with that number.

Some even decided to omit it entirely, so now I ask you, have you or someone you know ever slept in a room that just felt wrong? Let me know in the comments, and next time you're standing in front of a door marked 413, ask yourself, is it really empty? Or is something already waiting for you inside?