Three Knocks

It’s 2:17 am, and Yelena is woken by the sound of knocking. Three knocks, slow and deliberate, at her door. She lay perfectly still under the covers, listening to the silence that followed.

The darkness in the room was only broken by the thin yellow line of the streetlight shining through a thin opening in the curtains. Beside her, the other half of the bed was empty. It had been that way for six months now.

Yelena told herself the knocking was just the old house settling. They make strange noises in the quiet night, pipes and floorboards. The wind outside, scraping or tapping against the windows. But when three more knocks sounded through the house a few minutes later, from closer inside the house this time, that train of thought shattered. 

She bolted upright in bed. “Hello?” 

Her heart hammered in her chest. She reached for her phone, but before her fingers could touch it, the screen lit up.

UNKNOWN NUMBER

Once it stopped ringing, the screen lit up again a second later, this time with a text. 

Don’t open the door.

Yelena stares at it, when another message pops up.

Whatever you hear, don’t open the door.

She swallowed. Another three knocks, this time on her bedroom door. Goosebumps run across her arms and legs. Yelena stopped breathing.

Her bedroom door was closed, but she could see a shadow moving from the space under the doorway. Someone was standing on the other side of the door.

“Yelena?” 

Her blood ran cold. The voice was familiar, Daniel’s voice. Her husband’s voice. The same voice she heard every morning for five years, until the night the hospital had called and told her about the accident. The one that changed her life forever.

“Yelena,” it whispered again. “Please let me in.” Tears filled her eyes. But how is that possible, when Daniel was dead. Her phone lit up beside her again.

He knows you miss him.

The door handle started pushing down, then the door creaked open slightly. A hand appeared, curling around the door. Yelena slammed her hand over her mouth to stop herself from screaming. She slid to the other side of the bed then hid behind it. 

And suddenly she understood why she had been unable to sleep for the past six months. Because, in the doorway stood her Daniel. Yelena froze. For several seconds, they just stared at each other. Daniel looked exactly the same as the last day she saw him. Not the way he looked at the hospital, pale and broken. Dead. Not the way he looked in the photographs she keeps hidden away in the bottom drawer of her bedside table. 

This was her Daniel who left for work on an ordinary Wednesday morning six months ago. With his hair slightly messy, as though he just ran his hands through it after taming it minutes before. He was wearing the same military bomber jacket and dark jeans. The same watch I bought him for our 5 year anniversary was on his wrist. I can even see the scar running through his left eyebrow.

Yelena didn’t understand. “Daniel?”

He tilted his head, his eyes still firmly on hers. Then he smiled. That same smile she knew better than anything in the world. “It’s me, Len.”

But that couldn’t be true. She had identified him herself, had sobbed over his body, had felt the coldness of him under her cheek. “It can’t be.” She breathed.

Daniel took a slow step closer to the bed. “Yelena, please listen.”

“No…” Her voice was barely a whisper. Daniel stopped.

“I know you’re scared, but…” 

“You’re dead, Daniel!”

Those words hung between them. “I know.”

Yelena felt tears sting her eyes. She blinked, feeling them slip down her cheeks.

“What? No. You can’t know that.”

“I remember that day, Len. Getting up, looking for that missing sock while you made our coffees. Kissing you before I left for work.”

“You’re not him, he’s dead.” Daniel looked hurt. The pain in his eyes almost broke her. Then he narrowed his eyes and the corners of his mouth dropped. “You said you didn’t believe in ghosts when we met all those years ago.”

“What?”

“Don’t you remember? On our first date. We went to see that awful movie about a girl who lost her parents, then started seeing them all over her house.”

She felt something inside her chest collapse. She had said that. After the movie they got milkshakes at Papa’s Diner and sat outside at a rickety little table. Daniel had told her about his grandmother, who raised him after his parents had died in a fire. She claimed she could speak with dead relatives his entire childhood. Yelena had laughed then, told him ghosts were just stories people invented because they couldn’t accept losing the people they loved.

Daniel had kissed her that night. She remembered every detail. The rain. His cold hands on her lower back. The way he had smiled against her lips.

“How do you know that?” she whispered.

Daniel stepped closer. “Because I was there.”

Her phone vibrated. Yelena flinched. The sound seemed impossibly loud in the darkness.

Daniel's eyes moved toward the phone.

Yelena looked down. There was another message.

Do not answer him.

Her fingers trembled as another message came through.

That is not Daniel.

Yelena slowly raised her eyes. Daniel was watching her. “Who is texting you?”

She didn't answer. His expression changed, just a small tick of his jaw and a raised eyebrow. Something only someone who had known Daniel intimately would have noticed. The warmth disappeared from his eyes. “Yelena.”

She swallowed. “Who are you?”

For the first time, he looked angry. Then he smiled again. “You know who I am.”

“No.”

“You know me.”

“No.”

“You loved me.”

Yelena squeezed her eyes shut. “Stop.”

“You still love me.”

“Stop!”

Daniel's voice suddenly became louder. “I came back for you!”

Yelena screamed. She scrambled backward, knocking over the lamp beside her bed. It crashed onto the floor, plunging the room into complete darkness. For a moment there was silence. Then she heard footsteps. 

One. Two. Three.

Daniel was walking toward her. Yelena reached blindly across the floor until her fingers found the phone. The screen illuminated her face.

There was another message.

Look at his feet.

Her heart stopped. Yelena slowly looked down. Daniel's feet were hidden in shadow. She pointed the phone downward, illuminating the floor. Her stomach twisted. He wasn't standing on the carpet. His feet were several inches above it. Yelena clapped a hand over her mouth.

Daniel stopped moving. His face remained perfectly still. Then his head slowly turned toward the phone.

“You shouldn't have looked.”

Yelena vaulted over the bed, running for the door. But Daniel was suddenly in the doorway, staring at her. She turned sharply and ran toward the window. Behind her, she heard him laugh.

Not Daniel's laugh. Something wet and hollow. Something that sounded like several voices laughing at once. Yelena grabbed the curtains and tore them open. Moonlight flooded the room. For one terrible second, she saw him clearly in the reflection of the window. 

She spun around to look at him. His skin was grey. His eyes were completely black. His mouth stretched far too wide. And his feet weren't the only thing wrong with him. His shadow was facing the wrong direction. It stretched toward her. Even though the moonlight was behind her.

Yelena screamed. She threw the window open. Cold air slammed into her face. The house was on the second floor. The drop below was at least fifteen feet. She didn't care. Behind her, something slammed into the wall next to the window. The wood shook.

“Yelena!” Daniel yelled. This time it sounded exactly like him. “Please Len, don't!”

She looked at the window. Then at the door. Daniel was getting closer now. She climbed onto the windowsill.

“Yelena!”

She froze. The voice had changed. It wasn't Daniel anymore. It was her own voice.

“Yelena, don't jump.” She looked back. The thing wearing Daniel's face stood only a step away. It smiled. “There's nowhere to run.”

Then Yelena jumped. She landed hard on the grass. Pain exploded through her ankle. For several seconds, she couldn't breathe, but she was alive. She rolled onto her back and stared at the window. Daniel stood there, just watching her, smiling. Then he raised one hand and waved. 

Yelena dragged herself toward the garden gate, not looking back anymore. She couldn’t see him like that. She limped through the darkness until she reached the road. A car appeared around the corner. Yelena stepped into the road, waving frantically. The car slammed on its brakes. A woman jumped out.

“Are you okay?”

Yelena could barely speak. “Please... Help me.”

The woman ran toward her. “What happened?”

“My house.” Yelena pointed toward it. “Someone is in my house.”

The woman looked at the building. The bedroom window was dark.

“Do you want me to call the police?”

“Yes.” Yelena clung to her arm. “Yes. Please.”

As the woman took out her phone, Yelena looked back at the house and saw something move in the upstairs window. She stopped breathing. The curtains closed then. The woman followed her gaze.

“Is that him?”

Yelena looked at her. “What?”

The woman pointed. “There.”

A silhouette stood behind the curtain. Tall. Motionless. Yelena's blood ran cold. “Don't look.”

The woman frowned. “What?”

“Don't look at him.” But it was already too late. The silhouette lifted its hand. And knocked against the glass. Three times. Slow. Deliberate.

The woman dropped her phone. Yelena grabbed her hand. “Run.”

They ran to her car, got in and locked the doors. A police car arrived less than ten minutes later. Yelena told them everything. The knocking, the messages on her phone. Seeing her dead husband. Jumping out of her window to get away from him.

The woman confirmed most of what she had seen, although she refused to describe the figure at the window. Two officers went inside the house. Yelena waited outside with the woman. Five minutes passed. Then ten. Finally, the officers came out.

One of them approached her. “Ma'am?”

Yelena stood up, shivering in her thin clothes. “Did you find him? My husband.”

The officer glanced at his partner. “No.” Yelena realized how insane she sounded. “Your husband died six months ago.” The officer looked uncomfortable. “There was nobody inside.”

“What?”

“We searched every room.”

Yelena shook her head. “He was there.”

“Were the doors locked?”

“Yes.”

“Any sign of forced entry?”

“No.”

The officer lowered his voice. “Are you certain you weren't dreaming?”

Yelena stared at him. “I jumped out of my bedroom window.”

He looked at her injured ankle. “I can see that.”

“He was in my room.”

The officer sighed. “Maybe you were having some kind of episode.”

“I wasn't.”

“Did you take anything tonight?”

“No.”

“Drink any alcohol?”

“No.”

The second officer walked over. “Nothing upstairs.”

Yelena looked toward the house. The bedroom window was still open. The curtains moved gently in the breeze. Then her phone vibrated. She nearly dropped it.

UNKNOWN NUMBER.

You should have listened.

Yelena stared at the screen. The woman beside her whispered, “What does it say?” Yelena didn't answer.

Another message appeared.

It knows where you're going.

Yelena's stomach dropped. She looked toward the police officer. “I need to leave.”

The officer shook his head. “You shouldn't go anywhere alone. Just in case there really is someone after you.”

Yelena looked at him. “I won't be alone.”

She showed him the phone. The officer read the messages. His expression changed.

“Can you trace this number?”

He shook his head. “It's blocked.”

“Can you find out who sent it?”

“We can try.” He took out his radio. While he spoke to another officer, Yelena stared at her phone. The typing indicator appeared. Three dots. Then it disappeared. Then it appeared again. Her heart began to pound.

A final message appeared.

Look beside you.

Yelena slowly turned. The woman who had helped her was standing beside her. Except she wasn't looking at Yelena anymore. She was staring at the house. And she was smiling.

Yelena stepped backward. “Who are you?”

The woman turned. Her eyes were black. Yelena screamed. The woman lunged. The police officer grabbed her before she could reach Yelena. She fought with impossible strength. “Let me go!”

Her voice changed. Deep. Raspy. Not human. “She's mine!”

The officers wrestled her to the ground. Yelena backed away, shaking. The woman's face twisted. Then, suddenly, she stopped struggling. She looked directly at Yelena. And smiled. “You shouldn't have left the house.”

The police officer handcuffed her. “What the hell was that?”

The woman began laughing. Yelena couldn't move. Because behind the officers, standing beneath the streetlight, was Daniel. He was watching her. He raised one finger to his lips. Then he mouthed two words.

Come home.

Yelena's phone vibrated again. She looked down.

He only came inside because you invited him in.

Her hands went cold. She read the message twice. Then a terrible realization settled over her. The knocking. The voice. The messages. The woman. None of it had been about getting inside the house. It had been about getting her outside. Yelena looked up. Daniel was gone.

The police officers were still struggling with the woman. The house stood empty behind them. Or so she thought. A light came on in the upstairs bedroom. Yelena stared.

Her phone vibrated one final time.

Now he has you.

The bedroom light went out. And from somewhere behind Yelena came three slow knocks.