Knocking

The storm had picked up since the afternoon. Lightning flashed again outside my window, as the wind rapped against the pane, creating a rhythmic beat of tree branches scraping against glass. The power had been out for some time now, making the glow of my hearth the only light remaining in the house. I sat in my study, sinking into my armchair, staring intently at the flames licking greedily at the ashen logs.

 I relaxed my mind for sleep, as it still swam through memories of work, the date, and the run-in with that man on the street. All of it slowly blending into a file stuffed deep inside my brain, labeled for a preferable December day, with a kink or two in the hose.

The grandfather clock ticked methodically until the bell clanged eleven, on sync with rolling thunder and a crack of lightning. I sighed to the rather dismal night.

I closed my eyes for rest, grinning and chuckling to myself about the days go abouts and my meeting with Emily down town, when I heard the knocking coming from downstairs. 

I sat up straight, opening my eyes as they fluttered towards the closed study door. Who would come knocking at this hour? There was nothing. Probably just the wind dropping the knocker. I sat back down still rigid from surprise, against the cool leather once more, welcoming the smoky aroma of the room back to calm my beating heart.

The banging echoed up again, this time a little more loudly. 

I mean who would wish to speak with me now? I was fairly frightened and incredibly annoyed now, my nostrils flaring with rage. Mr. Brandy had left hours ago, leaving me as the only one in the home that evening, with the cook only meant to show up Thursday morning for the Gala. Emily doesn’t know my address so she couldn’t be here. I pondered for a moment and collected myself. Maybe if I don’t answer they’ll just go away.

   Bang! Bang! Bang! A third rapping rang out, this time more forceful and angry.

“Oh for Pete’s sake who in God’s name wants me at this very moment? Go away! I got the mail! I have no visitors! You are not welcome here!” I hollered down the hall. Thunder clapped overhead. There was not another knocking.

   Finally. I thought and relaxed a little. 

“The storm is getting worse, they should hail a cab and get out of here before the roads flood.” 

But in the silence followed, a faint clicking noise, followed by the slow creaking of a door and the soft thud of it closing Made its way up the stairwell to the study door. My ears perked up and my mind fully cleared when suddenly, something, I know not how, fell in the Kitchen. A clattering of cuterly and pans cacophonied around the house followed by quick running.

 I staggered from my chair to a standing position, startled, frozen staring at the door as the fire crackled dimly, slowly dying in the nightly wind, hollering through the chimney to the cold December sky.  

   “Who-who goes there?” I stuttered faintly. 

There was no reply. 

   “I said, who goes there!?” I ordered more strongly this time clenching my fists. 

No answer followed once again, except the quiet clapping of shoe heels coming from below. 

   I sidestepped my way to the hearth and found the poker which I brandished in my hands, knuckles white as clouds as they grasped the cool iron. The ash smell made my eyes water Flooding my vision to become a cloudy wet mess.

   Memories now flooded my mind. That man earlier on the street. I remembered. The one whom I told to bug off. How tall did he look? How strong? Did he have murder in his eyes? My mind flashed through the memory, and yet I could not figure out what the man looked like, nor his stature, or the nature of his eyes. The only thing I could picture was his grey suit, brown smoking cigar, and the bruise he gave me when he ran into my shoulder. Along with his cold, cold voice…

   The footsteps came to a sudden stop outside the study door. The fire no longer licked at the brick walls and was now just glowing embers, drenching the room in darkness. The door slowly opened as lightning illuminated the house for a quick second until returning to black. I closed my eyes, prayers fleeting from my head to my lips, mixing in with cries and pleas to save me when alas I muttered;

“Please let me be.” 

Tears fell from my eyes as my body was rigid with fear. I smelled the rainy air waft up from the open door mixing with the ashen air, I thought of who was going to miss me, who was gonna find me and my body on the floor come morning.

   My breathing was rapid and quiet sobs left my tongue when the soft purring of Tom reached my ears and his warm rubbing against my legs. I peeked down to see my white cat massaging himself against my ankles happily treating his itches and tangles on his back against my pants. 

   “Oh, Tom you gave me a fright!” I exclaimed, dropping the poker and picking him up from the ground. “I thought you were a man!” I laughed, tears streaming down my cheeks.

 “Oh the wind probably pushed open the front door didn’t it? Mr. Brandy didn’t lock it again I presume. He always does that. This will be a fun story to tell tomorrow at work though, I must say I do find that everything is always scarier in the dark.” 

   I hugged the cat close to my chest sighing in relief. Running my fingers through his fur comforting my mind and putting my thoughts at ease.

 “How could I be so stupid in thinking there was a man in my house, scare myself to death. I should’ve lit candles anyways make it less suspenseful for myself. This was all my fault, haha!”

   “Don’t blame yourself too much Mr. Codwell,” A cold voice responded from the darkness. “As you said everything is always scarier in the dark.”