Who's knocking？
Friday night, eight-thirty.
I was sprawled on my bed, scrolling through TikTok, when a news alert flashed across the screen:
"Black bear escaped from Beijing Zoo. Police are searching. Residents nearby advised to stay indoors."
My heart did a little stutter-step. Black bears in China are extremely cunning animals. A friend from Tibet once told me stories about bears in the foothills near his village—Bears would sometimes stand on their hind legs, with cow dung on their heads, and wave a front paw gently. From a distance, they looked just like herders wearing hats and beckoning, using this trick to lure the curious close before swallowing people whole.
But this was a concrete, neon-lit city of traffic—A bear here? Impossible. I dismissed it, the city’s familiar hum a comforting blanket.
Though my family has several houses in the Beijing suburbs, I rent a small apartment downtown for my commute. This compound is a cluster of multi-story buildings with hotel-like corridors and compact units on each floor.
A little later, my phone buzzed, not once, but in a rapid, insistent sequence. The homeowners' WeChat group for my residential compound, usually a graveyard of plumbing complaints and lost pet notices, was exploding.
101-Old Zhang: “Everyone see the news? A bear🐻 is out! The zoo’s only three blocks away! Could it come here?”
202-DogWalker Liu: “A bear in the city center? How is that even possible? 😂 Zhang, don’t be so gullible!”
304-Delivery Chen: “I’m on shift delivering. Streets are normal. Stop scaring people. Bad for business. ”
317-SingleMom Wang: “Even if it’s true, how would it get past all the traffic checkpoints? It’d get stopped for sure!”
A cascade of laughing emojis followed, quickly flooded the screen. Others joined in the mockery. Some joked about the bear taking the subway, others quipped about it applying for a residence permit. A few shared memes of cartoon bears carrying shopping bags. The collective mood was one of dismissive amusement; no one was taking the warning seriously.
A sliver of unease, sharp and cold, made me type a message.
606（me）: “I saw the news too. Just… everyone be careful tonight. Black bears are incredibly intelligent animals. If one were to attack a human, the consequences would be unthinkable.”
The response was swift, dripping with digital derision.
605-Drunkard Wang: “Nonsense! What black bear? Stop spreading fear, 606! I'm going out for a drink tonight, and no imaginary bear is stopping me! Mind your own business!”
(I had a history with Old Wang from 605. He was a notorious drunk who often beat his wife. I'd intervened and called the police on him once when it got too violent, and he’d held a grudge against me ever since.)
404-Mr. Ke: “Objectively speaking, black bears are indeed highly intelligent and adaptable. Our compound is the closest residential area to that zoo. It's prudent to maintain a heightened sense of alertness.”
207-LiveStreamer Han: “Alert? Alert for what? I hope the bear DOES come! Preferably to my place! Think of the views! A live stream with a real escaped bear? That's gonna get me tens of thousands of new followers! #BearWatch #UrbanJungle”
606（me）: “I'm serious. I really think everyone should just stay indoors tonight. The police will probably catch it soon.”
202-DogWalker Liu: “606, stop spreading panic! There is no bear! You’re causing unnecessary fear!”
708-Boxing Coach Wu: “Yeah, exactly! Cut it out, 606!”
509-Pregnant Li: “I’m about to go walk my dog. I’ll keep an eye out for this little bear of yours! 😂”
101-Old Zhang: “Well, I’m off to square dancing. No time for this nonsense.”
Even the property management chimed in.
Property Manager Zhou: “Dear residents, please do not spread unverified rumors. Our community is secure. A bear could not possibly enter our premises.”
Security Lead Wang: “Rest assured, we are professionals. Our gates are secure, and patrols will be increased tonight. There is nothing to worry about.”
I silenced my phone, frustration bubbling. Maybe they were right. I was probably overreacting, spooked by a story and a news alert. The city was a fortress.
I felt hungry and ordered noodles, left a note: Leave at door. DO NOT KNOCK. Then I tried to forget about it.
But the group chat was a persistent itch.
317-SingleMom Wang: “Did anyone just hear something? By the garbage bins at the community gate, a really loud crash. Like the metal lid was thrown off.”
202-DogWalker Liu: “The stray cats are fighting again. 🐈🐈Nothing new. They’re feral.”
101-Old Zhang: “My little Fuwa won’t stop barking at the front door. She never does this. Her hackles are up.”
The group chat continued to buzz with dismissive comments and jokes, the initial warning buried under layers of mockery.
Suddenly, a new message from Delivery Chen popped up.
304-Delivery Chen: “Weird. The main lobby door to our building was wide open. Just swinging. Wind must’ve blown it in.”
The lobby door… open? That door was heavy, reinforced glass with a strong hydraulic hinge. It didn’t just swing open. It was always shut tight, requiring a key fob. A cold, thin trickle of unease dripped down my spine. My eyes flicked to my own apartment door, deadbolted.
606（me）: “Chen, be careful. Just leave my food at the door and go. Seriously. Don’t linger.”
304-Delivery Chen: “Relax, dude! It’s just a door. Probably someone forgot to close it after their smoke. Almost there. In the elevator now. Sixth floor, right?”
The casual dismissal was a comfort. He was right. It was probably nothing. I was being paranoid. I took a deep breath, listening to the familiar sounds of the building. The faint thrum of a neighbor's TV. A toilet flushing. Normalcy.
Then I heard it—the distant hum and groan of the elevator machinery engaging. Someone had called it. Second floor. Third. It passed the fourth with a slight shudder. The fifth. My floor was next.
A muffled ding echoed faintly through the walls. The elevator had arrived.
My eyes shot to my door. I could hear the soft shush of the doors opening, then closing. Silence for a beat.
Then, Chen’s footsteps in the hallway. The familiar, tired squeak of his worn sneakers on the linoleum. He was humming tunelessly.
The footsteps stopped abruptly, right outside my door.
A beat of silence. Too long.
Then, Chen’s voice, loud and clear in the hallway, laced with confused laughter. “Hey, what’s this? A giant stuffed animal? Looks realisti—”
His words were cut off.
A sound tore through the hallway that defied all logic. A deep, guttural, wet SNARL. It was followed by a single, sharp, human cry that was choked off almost instantly.
Then… silence.
Absolute, dead silence.
My blood ran cold. I stood frozen, my ear pressed to the door, straining to hear anything. What was that? What just happened?
“Chen?” I called out, my voice hesitant. “Chen? You okay out there?”
No answer. Only the deafening silence.
My mind raced, scrambling for a rational explanation—had Chen dropped the food? Was he… was he hurt?
“Chen?” I called again, louder this time, a tremor in my voice. “Hey, man, answer me. This isn’t funny.”
Nothing.
My phone, clutched in my hand, also began to buzz with notifications.
508-Pregnant Li: “What is that banging from upstairs? From 606? It’s shaking my ceiling! I need to sleep! My doctor said I need rest!”
708-Boxing Coach Wu: “@606 Are you having a party or moving furniture? It's a weeknight! Some of us have to work tomorrow! Keep it down!”
605-Drunkard Wang: “606! What the hell are you doing out in the hallway? Making such a goddamn racket! Shut the fuck up or I'll come out there and shut you up myself!”
317-SingleMom Wang: “My daughter is trying to study for her exams! This is unacceptable! I’m calling the police about the noise!”
101-Old Zhang: “Yeah, 606, we get it, you’re young and like to have fun, but have some consideration! My walls are vibrating!”
509-Pregnant Li: “If this doesn’t stop I’m filing a formal complaint with the property manager! This is ridiculous!”
They heard it too. But their only concern was their own inconvenience. Their interpretations were selfish, annoyances, not alarms. Their anger was a wave directed at me.
“CHEN!” I shouted now, panic sharpening my tone, pounding my fist lightly on the door. “ANSWER ME! ”
The silence from the hallway was a physical weight. Why wasn’t Chen answering me? If he was joking with me, why wasn’t he making fun of me in the group chat? The strange sound from just now made my scalp tingle. I had to see.
Trembling, I crept forward and pressed my eye to the peephole.
However, it was pitch black. Not just dark, but utterly lightless. The hallway’s motion-sensor light hadn’t turned on. It was as if the world outside my door had been swallowed whole. I couldn’t see a thing.
“Is someone there?” I whispered, my breath fogging the tiny glass lens. “Hello?”
No response. My heart hammered against my ribs. The group chat continued to ping, a chorus of accusations.
101-Old Zhang: “606! I can hear you shouting now too! Stop this racket immediately!”
509-Pregnant Li: “I’ve already called the property manager! He ’s sending security up! You’re going to be in serious trouble!”
Everyone was blaming me for it.
But I had no time for these foolish neighbors.
I took a step back from the door, my mind reeling.
Then, a new sound started.
Bang.
A heavy, rhythmic pounding on my door. It wasn’t a knock. It was a violent, relentless impact that made the wood shudder in its frame.
BANG. BANG. BANG.
“Who… who is it?” I whispered, my voice shaking.
No answer. Only the relentless, terrifying BANGING.
I stumbled back from the door, my breath caught in my throat, my hands flying to my mouth.
After my last shout for Chen, the group chat erupted again, though the tone was still predominantly angry and accusatory, rather than fearful.
317-SingleMom Wang: “WHAT IS THAT NOISE?! It sounds like… like someone’s trying to break the door down! @606 What are you doing?”
708-Boxing Coach Wu: “That doesn’t sound like a party or moving stuff… that sounds… bad…”
605-Drunkard Wang: “Answer the damn phone, 606! Stop fucking around! I swear, if you don't shut up this second, I'm coming out there to find you and you're gonna regret it!”
The banging was deafening, overwhelming. It felt like the door would splinter inward at any second.
After a moment, the knocker outside seemed to sense I had no intention of opening the door. There was a pause. Then the pounding softened—intentionally, it seemed—now more like an imitation of a human knock. But I couldn’t be sure if whatever was outside was even human.
Pure, unmasked terror made my eyes water. I had to see. I had to know what was on the other side.
I fumbled for my phone, my hands shaking so badly I could barely open the security app. I tapped on the live feed for my doorbell camera.
The image loaded.
And I saw it.
A massive black bear, standing upright on its hind legs, pounding on my door！
Just then, I heard a sharp click from across the hallway. The sound of a deadbolt being turned.
Then, the angry, slurred voice of my drunkard neighbor from 605 roared out. "606! What the hell are you doing out here?!"
