The Midnight Knock

It was a cold, October night when Annie's parents left for a party in the next town over. She didn’t mind being alone. At 15, she was used to it, and their old farmhouse always felt cozy—until it didn’t.

Around 11 PM, she settled into bed with a book, trying to ignore the howling wind outside. As she read, a faint knocking sound came from downstairs. She froze, listening. Tap, tap, tap. It was soft but rhythmic like someone lightly knocking on wood.

“Probably the wind,” she muttered, pulling the blankets tighter around her. But the knocking didn’t stop. It grew louder. Knock, knock, knock.

Curiosity mixed with fear. She tiptoed out of bed and down the creaky wooden stairs, her heart pounding. She reached the front door and peered through the peephole—a big red balloon.

Suddenly, BANG! A louder knock made her jump back, her breath catching in her throat. “Hello?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Annie's mind wandered to the movies of creepy clowns with balloons but she still decided to open the door. "Hello?" A little boy stood before her. She couldn't see his face because he was wearing a hoodie too big for him. "Are you lost?"

Suddenly, the boy jerked his head up unnaturally to face her. His eyes were black and hollow, his face pale. A cold, raspy voice whispered from his mouth, "Let me in."

Annie slammed the door shut, locked it, and ran upstairs to her room, breathing heavily. Her mom sent her a message, "We'll be home in 30 minutes." There was another message from an unknown number; "Don't open the door. He'll get inside."

Annie, shivered in fear as the thought of the boy haunted her mind. ‘I already opened the door. Would he be able to get inside?’ she thought.

As she sat in her bed a creaking noise could be heard from the stairs. Knock, knock, knock. A raspy sound came from the door. “Are you there? Why don’t you let me inside,” he said. A faint giggling could be heard. “We could play games~ Just let me inside~”

Annie jumped out of bed and started pushing the couch against the door. Annie's hands trembled as she pushed the heavy couch against the door, her heart racing with fear. The creaking and knocking continued, growing louder and more persistent. She felt a shiver run down her spine as the boy called out to her eerily, pleading to be let inside. 

With the couch barricading the door, Annie's mind raced. She frantically dialed 911, her fingers shaking as she struggled to keep the phone steady. As she waited for the call to connect, she heard the sound of things breaking from downstairs. Panic surged through her as she realized that the boy was trying to find another way in.

The 911 operator answered, and Annie quickly explained the terrifying situation. Help was on the way, but every second felt like an eternity as she huddled in her room, praying for the police to arrive in time.

When the police finally reached her room, Annie felt a wave of gratitude and safety. They assured her that the boy had disappeared and that she was out of harm's way. As her parents arrived home, their worried faces softened with relief when they saw Annie safe and unharmed.

In the days that followed, Annie couldn't shake off the lingering fear, but she found comfort in the support of her family and the knowledge that she had acted quickly and decisively to protect herself.

A week after the incident, Annie’s parents had to go on a business trip. She pleaded with them not to go, bringing up the boy again but her parents didn’t think anyone would intrude on their house again. Her parents were doubtful that a boy with hollow eyes would be able to break into the house.

As day turned into night, Annie started to feel tired. She got into her bed and tried to sleep but couldn’t. She checked her phone and, surprisingly, the unknown number had texted her again. “He’s going to come again tonight,” it said. Annie was suddenly filled with energy. She quickly blockaded her front door and ran back to her room. She was shivering in her bed as she waited for the boy to come again.

“I see you~” Annie jerked her head up to search for the origin of the voice. It wasn’t the boy, it was someone else.

“Who are you?” Annie demanded, holding up the knife she had prepared. “What do you want?” The darkness engulfed her with the fear of intruders.

Suddenly, hands started sprouting on the walls. Thousands of empty, cold voices started whispering “We want your soul~” The hands were coming closer and closer, and all Annie could do was scream and cry as the hands started grabbing her, stretching her into unfathomable shapes. The last thing Annie saw as she slipped into unconsciousness was a face; its shape was twisted in petrifying ways, and its expression; was a face of murder, rage, and unknown terror.

When Annie woke up, all she could see was a room of darkness. She got up only to find her body was too weak to handle her weight. She noticed an aisle of paintings and crawled over to it. The first one was the face of the boy. His hollow eyes seemed to penetrate her soul. Then suddenly, something grabbed her leg and pulled her down the aisle. Annie, too weak to scream started to panic. 

As she was pulled down the painting aisle, she noticed other people. There was a wolf with his ears and nose chopped off, a woman with snakes as her hair, and finally, a girl with millions of hands.

Annie tried to squirm free of the hand's grasp but it was too strong. She tried calling for help but was answered with her echoes. The hand continued to drag her across the darkness and Annie noticed that it only grew darker. Suddenly, thousands of voices started whispering in cursed, broken voices; “We finally have you… Now you shall join us in our pain~”

Annie realized that there was no hope for her now. She was trapped, forever in this damnation, fated to join the monsters in the paintings. But she had to try. She had to see her parents at least once more till she went to hell. As the voices started coming closer, snakes started slithering over her legs, hands started grabbing her, insects started crawling over her, dolls began screaming, and everything else horrid was happening to her now.

Suddenly, Annie felt something shift inside her–a spark of energy she didn’t know she had left. Her fear and desperation ignited a deep instinct to fight back. She kicked at the snakes wrapping around her legs and pushed at the hands trying to pull her into the darkness.

“I won’t let you take me!” she screamed, her voice shaking but growing louder with each word. The whispers around her paused for a brief moment as if startled by her sudden resistance. But just as quickly, they grew louder and more aggressive, chanting in eerie unison, "Join us, join us~"

With every ounce of strength left in her, Annie reached out, grabbing the frame of one of the paintings. The picture was cold and smooth under her fingers, but she clung to it as her life depended on it. The force pulling her down struggled against her, yanking harder, but Annie wasn’t about to give up.

The painting she held started to shift, the image of the girl with millions of hands twisting and writhing. Annie blinked in shock as one of the painted hands reached out, wrapping around her wrist. The girl shouted, her voice like none other; “You will obey my command! Here in the Abyss, everyone is damned to my curse, and no one escapes!” At that moment, Annie knew that all hope was lost. She was trapped—forever.