The first knock came at exactly 3:00 a.m.
Three slow taps.
𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐊. 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐊. 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐊.
Emma opened her eyes. The sound had come from her bedroom door.
"Mom?" She whispered.
No answer.
She checked her phone. No messages. The house was silent except for the ticking clock downstairs.
Then came a sound.
𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐊. 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐊. 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐊.
Her bedroom door shook ever so slightly.
"Who's there?" She asked forcing herself to look brave.
Silence.
She walked to the door, placed her trembling hand on the knob...and stopped.
Her grandmother's word echoed in her mind.
𝐼𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑐𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑡 𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡, 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑤𝑒𝑟 𝑢𝑛𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑤ℎ𝑜'𝑠 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑐𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔.
Emma laughed nervously at the the memory and stepped away.
A minute later her phone buzzed.
It was a text from her mother.
𝐷𝑂𝑁'𝑇 𝑂𝑃𝐸𝑁 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐷𝑂𝑂𝑅. 𝐼'𝑀 𝑆𝑇𝑈𝐶𝐾 𝐼𝑁 𝑇𝑅𝐴𝐹𝐹𝐼𝐶. 𝐼'𝑀 𝑁𝑂𝑇 𝐻𝑂𝑀𝐸 𝑌𝐸𝑇.
Emma's blood turned cold.
If her mother wasen't home...
Then who had knocked the door?
Then from the lther side of he door came her mother's voice.
"Emma, darling...open the door. Its me"
The voice was perfect.
Every word.
Every breath.
Emma stared at the door.
Her phone vibrated again.
𝑊ℎ𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟, 𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑜𝑜𝑟.
The voice changed to her father now...
"Punpkin...Daddy's home"
...But he died 5 years ago.
Her eyes was filled woth tears.
The voice then changed to her brother.
"Emma...I'm cold. Let me in"
She backed into the corner shaking.
The knocks retured, but this time...harder.
𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆. 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆. 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆.
Pictures fell from the hallway wall.
The voice laughed. Not loudly. Quietly. Like someone trying not ro wake the neighbours.
Hours crawled by.
At sunrise, the knocking stopped.
Emma waited until daylight filled her room and then she opened the door.
The hallway was empty.
Nothing seemed disturbed.
She almost convinced herself it was a nightmare...
Until she noticed the front door.
It was wide open.
Her mother stood behind a police officer.
The officer looked pale.
"We found footprints around your house" he said.
Emma looked down.
They're were muddy prints circling the house.
Hundreads of them.
All lead to her bedroom window.
None led away.
The officer swallowed.
"We also found something else..."
He handed a photograph taken by the security camera.
At exactly 3:00 a.m., someone had been standing outside the bedroom window.
Not knocking on the door.
But, knocking on the glass.
The figure had no face, there only consisted darkness.
But, it's hand...
Where it should had been, were claws the size of a pen and sharp as knife, as if he could kill anyone with just a single scratch.
Emma stared at the photo.
Then she noticed sonething nobody had.
The hand wasen't touching the glass...
...It was pointing.
Pointing...
...Behind the camera.
The officer frowned.
"What is it?"
Emma couldn't answer.
Because in the reflection of the window...
...Was the same faceless figure.
Watching.
Waiting.
