KNOCK, KNOCK

Genre: Horror 

 

 

 

KNOCK, KNOCK

By Randy Romero

 

 

The wind howled as it swept through the vacant streets of Redfield. Not a soul would be caught outside on a night like this. Not in this inclement weather.

Mark Hess rested his bones by the fireplace, chair reclined, watching TV. He only got up occasionally to stoke the logs on the fire or add another chunk of wood to the flames.

With one eye open and one eye closed, sleep was imminent.

But three gentle raps at the door seemed to revive him.

“Who on earth could that be?”

He couldn’t imagine anyone standing outside in this cold unless it was a life or death emergency. He got up and moved briskly to the front door, disengaging both locks. He opened the door to find nobody waiting on the other side.

“What the…I could’ve sworn I heard someone knocking.”

He closed the door, locked it tight, an heard it again. A soft knocking sound against some wooden surface. It wasn’t the front door. He was certain of that. So he went to the backdoor. Nothing.

Hollow knocking sounds echoed through the house. Was it coming from inside or outside? He couldn’t tell for certain.

The din ceased for a period and he returned to his recliner, to the comfort of the fireplace, bewildered.

Knock, knock.

“What the hell is going on?” Mark asked aloud.

Was he losing his mind? Was it all in his head? Was this someone’s idea of a practical joke? Was he supposed to ask, “who’s there?” the next time they knocked?

He listened closely for the next thump.

It sounded like it was coming from the front door again.

He returned to the door but refused to open it this time.

“Hello?” he called out. “Is somebody there?”

“Let me in,” a voice hissed.

“I’m sorry, I’m afraid I don’t let strangers in. Especially at this time of night. Are you in trouble? Have you been in an accident? I can call the police or an ambulance for you if you need them.”

“No trouble,” the voice said. “Just open the door and let’s talk.”

“Do I know you?”

“No, but I know you, Mark. Let me in.”

“Leave. Now.” It wasn’t a request.

“Let me in,” the voice cooed.

“Go away!” Mark shouted.

“Have it your way,” the man said with a deep sigh.

He heard footsteps retreating and assumed that was the end of it.

Mark returned to the warmth of the fireplace but could not rest.

He heard tapping again, this time against glass. The man was at one of the windows. He just had no idea which one.

“Let me in,” the voice hissed. He tried not to listen.

He walked from window to window, searching for the culprit. He came to the final living room window and two eyes, black as charcoal, stared back at him. The man grinned, baring his fanged teeth. His face was ageless. No lines or creases. Jet-black hair. A piercing, mesmerizing stare.

Mark didn’t have time to react to the horror of the fangs. Those dark eyes were hypnotic. Too powerful to resist.

“Let me in,” it said, rapping at the window.

In a dream-like daze, he floated to the front door and opened up.

The man met him at the front door, seizing him by the nape of his neck, and sinking his fangs into Mark’s jugular. Still under the vampire’s spell, he could feel every second of it, but he couldn’t react.

The vampire drank and drank and took from him until there was nothing left to take.