Twisted Souls: Superstitions

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Three knocks, every night at the same time. Where do they come from when Andrew is the only one home? Who is knocking? Andrew moves into his new apartment only to hear knocking throughout the night. But he is the only one there. Or is he?

Horror / Thriller
S. P. Stephens
Age Rating:

Three Knocks on Wood

Knock, Knock, Knock.

There it was again. The knocking. The same three knocks, at the same time of the night. Andrew had been woken up late last night by the strange noise, but failed to find where it was coming from. And now it was happening again.

Andrew climbed out his bed and made his way down the dark hallway toward his new apartment’s living room. He stood silently for a minute and listened.

Knock, Knock, Knock. He turned and looked behind him where the infernal banging was coming from, and saw a wooden door that was described to him as being an extra closet. He walked up to the door and tried the handle, but only found it to be locked. He then put his ear against the cool wood and listened.

Knock, Knock, Knock.

The suddon bangign caused Andrew to jump back and shout. He stared at the door with confusion and fear, and listened as his heartbeat rang in his ears. After a minute or two, the knocking ceased, and Andrew slowly began to walk toward his room. However, a faint noise made his heart stop and he froze in fear.

It was a voice. A voice coming from right behind him. Though he could barely hear the voice, Andrew was still able to make out the words it softly spoke, “Please don’t leave”. Andrew turned around slowly and stared wide-eyed at the door.

“Come back. I didn’t mean to scare you,” the voice continued, “Please Andrew”.

“How do you know my name,” Andrew choked out, “Who are you? What are you doing in my apartment?” Andrew pushed against the wall to steady himself, and listened as movement came from the other side of the door.

“I’ve always been here,” the voice replied, “and I’ve been watching you”.


Andrew stared at the old wooden door with fear. The voice that spoke to him sounded like a teenage boy and the softness of it was uncanny. It sounded desperate. Sad even. And there was something about the way he spoke that was hypnotic. It made Andrew want to stay and do as the voice said.

“What do you mean,” Andrew asked.

“Ever since the outside became noisy. I have been peeking through the keyhole,” the voice replied, “Watching you walk the halls and bring in the boxes. Are you alone like me?”

“I’m living here alone. Who are you?”

“You can call me Drew,” the voice now known as Drew spoke, “And you’re Andrew. Almost the same but different. Though, different is good. However it’s sometimes bad. Can I call you Andy?”

“Sure,” Andrew replied. He made his way closer to the door and sat down on the cold floor. He listened as Drew mumbled on the other side of the door, and saw the silver doorknob that was know at eyesight. Andrew reached up and tried to turn it but found it to still be locked.

“Why is the door locked,” Andrew asked, “Are you stuck inside?”


“Then why is the door locked,” Andrew asked again. Drew was silent for a minute, and Andrew began to wonder if he was imagining the voice and knocking all along. But then he heard shifting behind the door and the boy answered.

“It’s locked to keep you out”

“Why,” Andrew said, “Why can’t I go in there”

“It’s bad in here. But sometimes good. Sometimes they don’t stay long. They leave early and it’s quiet. The quiet scares me though, makes me feel lonely,” Drew mumbled on, “If you came in here then you’d see. But you can’t come in. That is why the door is locked.”

Andrew sat there for a moment confused, as the moonlight coming in from the window made nightmarish shapes across the walls and floor. After thinking for a second he asked, “Who are they?”.

“They come to me every now and then. Talk to me, keep me company. Sometimes they are mean to me. Call me names and torment me. Then again, they tell me secrets and stories,” Drew paused for a second and then spoke one last time, “They’re here. I have to go. They’ll hurt me if they know I talked to you. Please don’t tell them. They can’t find out.” Then he was gone, and the apartment went silent.

“Drew,” Andrew called out, “Are you there? Drew?” Andrew sat there in silence for what felt like years. Then the door began to wildly jolt. Like something was trying to pull it open from the other side. The wood stretched inward and then slammed. Throughout the apartment the sound of the knocking and slamming echoed and shook the walls.

Andrew stood up and backed away slowly, then it all stopped. Standing there in silence once again, Andrew shook with fear. After a minute or so, a scream spilled from behind the door. Andrew knew instantly it was Drew. The scream stopped , and Andrew dashed to the door and pulled and pulled at the handle and beat on the wooden surface, but it never budged.

He ran into the kitchen and searched through every drawer and every cabinet until he found a hammer. Once he turned the corner into the hallway he froze.

The door sat wide open. Inside was nothing more than a dark abyss. A never ending black hallway. Andrew called out Drew’s name and slowly crept forward. His heartbeat rang in his ears and he stepped one foot after the other, even though he kept telling himself to stop and get out of there.

Andrew finally reached the doorway and paused. He didn’t know what he was thinking. For all Andrew knew, he wasn’t. Taking a step forward, Andrew plunged into the darkness and instantly found “them”. At first they were silence. Then they were a whisper. Within a second they became angry voices. Yelling in his ear. Calling him names, laughing at him, and telling him he should of stayed out.

The door slammed shut, and he fell to his knees clutching his head and screamed. The screaming filled the apartment and echoed through the building. It never stopped. Not when the woman next door banged on the front door, not when the cops burst into the empty apartment, and not when they tore down the door and found Andrew on the floor. His face soaked in tears and his fingertips bloody from clawing at the door.


The pills bounced around and the one squeaky wheel screamed for attention as Gart rolled the medicine cart down the blank hallway. He stopped next to a woman in a wheelchair and handed her some pills, and then continued.

Knock, Knock, Knock.

Gart stopped suddenly and listened. Knock, Knock, Knock. Turning to his right he saw a plain white door like any other in the building, and watched the mail slot sway as the knocking repeated.

Knock, Knock, Knock.

Pushing the cart to the door, Gart bent down and looked into the room, and saw nothing more than darkness. Knock, Knock, Knock. The sudden knocking caused Gath to jump back into the cart and the pills spilled onto the floor. He bent down and began picking up the red, blue, and white capsules. Then he heard it. A voice. It was soft, and almost inaudible.

“Please don’t leave,” the voice said, “I didn’t mean to scare you Gart”

“How do you know my name,” Gart asked confused, as he looked through the mail slot once again, “Who are you?”.

“My friends call me Andy. So you can too. And I know a lot about you, Gart. I’ve been watching you.”

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