Knock, Knock
There was a crack in my kitchen floor today. It seemed so… wrong. I knew every tile of this floor, I paced it so much. Every square had its place, sitting snugly between eight others just like it, and yet: an ugly black crack in my perfectly patterned floor. Just looking at it drove me crazy.
Knock, knock, knock.
A knock on my door pulled me away, and I shifted silently to answer it. Three knocks, in exactly the right pattern, so I slipped a 20 under the frame. I heard a plastic bag being lowered to the ground, and footsteps walking away down the hall. I waited for two minutes until I was sure I was alone, then quickly snatched the bag and reset all four locks.
Click. Click. Slide. Click.
My Chinese food-induced coma subsided sometime late at night. Traffic had died down, and its familiar sounds were drowned out by the astonishing silence of my apartment. Walking into the kitchen, I paused to reassess that pesky crack. It seemed somehow bigger than before, now that I was really looking at it. I made a mental note to fill it as soon as possible.
Taking my usual seat, I grabbed my bat and waited. Just like every night before, and every night would be. The weight of the bat felt familiar and safe, and I think that’s what made me grab it the first time. Not that it would be of any use against Him, but I liked pretending I might get a swing or two in, if even for a moment.
Footsteps creaked outside my door, seemed to stop for a moment, and continue on. Another set, faster than before, and down the other way. Each time, I clutched the bat tighter, holding my breath for minutes. By the time the sun started streaming in through my windows, I was exhausted. But at least I was alive, here in my little apartment with its perfect tiles and everything exactly where it was supposed to be. My escape would have to happen soon. Maybe after a nap…
Screeech.
I must have jumped straight out of bed from the sound of a chair moving. It was definitely in the kitchen, but there was no way it could be Him. He wouldn’t be so stupid as to reveal Himself like that, but on the off chance that He was, I would have to be extra careful. As I made my way to the kitchen, I examined everything for signs of use. Nothing seemed to have been moved; everything was right where I’d put it. I peered around the corner into the kitchen: nothing. There was nobody there, and yet something was off… my chair was crooked.
Ever so slightly, the chair was leaning backwards. And the culprit was that damn crack, only it wasn’t a crack anymore. It was a small hole now, and one of the chair’s legs was stuck in it. I pulled the chair out and examined this new damage. The hole was incredibly dark, and no matter how close I got to it, I couldn’t make out what was inside. My flashlight was no help, as the beam of light wasn’t able to penetrate the darkness at all.
The hole would have to wait, however. It was getting dark again and I still hadn’t eaten. I called up Yang’s Kitchen and placed my regular order. Once I made sure I’d get my usual delivery guy, I went back to the hole.
It took me a moment to process exactly what I was looking at, but my eyes weren’t mistaken. It was at least twice as big now, and it was threatening to topple my chair again. I almost wanted to laugh, because this was the way I would go. It wouldn’t be because of Him, I would just slowly go insane here, and the hole was proof. I thought about how terrible it looked, ruining my floor. And it still had that impenetrable darkness, just in a bigger area. I would have liked to watch it for any signs of growing, but night was coming and I would need to be prepared.
Baseball bat in hand, I grabbed a copy of Entertainment Weekly from about a month ago and sat near the door. Even though it was about shows and movies I could never watch, I felt comfort knowing the world was still out there. Still, I wasn’t able to focus on anything. The thought that He might come tonight combined with the ever-growing hole in my kitchen was enough to keep me shifting in my seat. I moved my chair so that I could keep an eye on the kitchen as well, but even then I couldn’t calm down.
It felt like ages before I heard the familiar knocks on the door.
Knock, knock, knock.
I pushed the money under the frame, and it was taken without delay. Only this time, the delivery person didn’t leave right away. He seemed to be waiting there, shifting every once in a while. I grew impatient because he should have known to leave the food and go.
“You can go now,” I whispered to myself, trying to will him away. “You can go now,” I whispered again, a little louder. “Go now, go now.” I began to shout, “Go now! You can GO NOW!” I heard footsteps running away from the door, then the usual silence.
Click. Click. Slide. Click.
And I had my meal in hand.
I didn’t even want to finish once I’d started eating; the long stretch of night ahead was making me sick. I decided to check on my kitchen floor. I wasn’t even surprised when I saw how big it had gotten. The hole was now big enough to consume an entire chair. “Hello hole,” I sighed sleepily, either too tired or too insane to care anymore. “Getting bigger I see?” Heh.
Outside my window I could see sheets of ice and rain falling on the poor city. Could it really be winter already? What happened to fall? I needed to get out. Besides, even if He didn’t come for me, I would just end up falling into that hole, and who knew what was down there.
I paused at the thought. What is down there? I scanned the darkness again, to no avail. “Hello?” I called down, but nothing came back to me, not even an echo. I grabbed a tennis ball from my bedroom and dropped it in.
…
I waited.
…
And waited.
…
Nothing came back to me, not a sound. Jesus, where does this go?
But this was getting boring and I had many other things to do, like wait at the door for Him. I decided to let the hole sit there in its uninteresting darkness. If it wasn’t going to even try to be entertaining, then I had no use for it. As I turned my back to leave the kitchen, I stopped cold. To the untrained ear, one might hear nothing. But I had lived in the silence of my apartment for too long, and I could hear the tiniest whisper through the white noise. I turned my head, trying to find the source. Sometimes it would weaken, other times it would sound as if it was right next to me, but I could always hear it.
When I knelt by the edge of the hole there was no mistaking it, the whisper was coming from inside. I got as close as I could, but no matter how far I stretched, I couldn’t make anything out. It sounded wistful, like a series of long sighs, so much so that I thought it might just be wind. But in the back of my mind I knew that somebody was down there. Maybe it was Him, and this hole was His way of reaching me.
That thought sent a shiver through my spine, but also feelings of anger. This was mean, even too mean for Him. Messing with my mind like this? It pissed me off to the point that I didn’t care if He was down there. Let’s see how He likes a chair to the face. I grabbed ahold of a kitchen chair and threw it as hard as I could into the pit. The darkness enveloped the chair silently, and I didn’t hear anything after that. I expected some sort of grunt of disapproval, some sign that I’d at least done some damage, but not a sound came from within.
Disheartened, I sat back down and tried to regain my composure. Why did I think that would work? Worse yet, I was down a kitchen chair. Sitting there in the silence, I noticed something else: no more whispers. I strained my ears, searching, but I heard the usual nothingness. Maybe I’d done something worthwhile after all.
The next morning the pit had shrunk considerably. I would have to force it if I’d wanted to get a chair in at this point, so you might say my day was off to a decent start. So good in fact, I thought about skipping my watch that night. Of course, I would never really dare to skip it, but the thought was nice at least.
By the next morning the whispers had returned, louder than before. I was almost too afraid to go to sleep, thinking it was a sign that He was close. But like usual, He never showed up. Maybe the whispers were someone else entirely, but I didn’t want to start imagining what else could be lurking in the shadows, waiting for me.
To complement the new wave of voices, the pit had grown again. Now it was bigger than ever, leaving only a small island where my table and one remaining chair were. I wasn’t doing much anyway, and the nights had seemed pretty slow, so I decided to run an experiment. I carefully made my way to the table and chair and pushed them into the pit. The voices did indeed seem to die down a little. Or maybe it’s in my head? Both options were fine to me. I stared at the wall all night until morning came again, and eagerly inspected the pit.
Sure enough, it had shrunk. It wasn’t quite small, but at least I had the majority of my kitchen floor back. I took the opportunity to fish out anything I might need from the kitchen drawers. I didn’t want to lose access to what few knives I had.
When I awoke from my daytime sleep, it wasn’t because it was my usual time to get up. I’d had nightmares the entire afternoon about falling. I wasn’t able to stay asleep for more than a few minutes at most. No, it was because the whispers had evolved into moans.
The voices seemed to ease in and out, moaning in pain or pleasure, it was hard to tell which. And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shut them up. I threw in everything I thought I could live without: my signed Yankees baseball, an old clock my parents had gotten me, even a tuxedo I’d bought but never worn. Nothing seemed to appease them. And the hole just kept getting bigger. If I took my eyes off of it for more than a second, its edges would widen. Before long, the pit had taken up my entire kitchen floor, leaving nowhere for me to step.
Frustrated and hungry, I called up Yang’s and placed my order. My normal delivery guy wasn’t in, so I had to explain the procedure to some new asshole who would probably never understand what I was going through. I may not have ever talked to my usual guy, but I always felt like we had an understanding, you know?. Once I deemed him ready to deliver, I hung up and returned to the pit.
Angrily I shouted, “What do you want?! I’ve given you plenty! Leave me alone!” Right then, I felt silly. It was bad enough I’d been stuck in this shitty apartment for months, but now I was yelling at a pit that I wasn’t entirely sure was even there, hoping for an answer from disembodied voices that were probably nothing more than wind.
I’d nearly given up hope when I heard one word,
“Blood.”
Blood? I wasn’t entirely sure I’d heard that word exactly. What the hell does that mean? The voices continued, the moans turning into a hungry chant, demanding blood.
I wondered what the neighbors would think, hearing the word blood over and over again. Maybe they would think I was listening to some sort of strange music, they probably wouldn’t be too surprised. In fact, I wasn’t entirely sure that I knew who my neighbors were anymore. The ones I remembered had probably moved out long ago.
But it didn’t matter what the neighbors thought, because I would not put up with that chant all Goddamn day. What if He heard it? What might He think? Hell, maybe it’d scare Him away. But who was I kidding? If anything could scare Him, it sure wasn’t going to be some annoying voices.
I sat there for another half an hour, trying to find a rhythm to go with the voices. From what I could tell, they were pretty much random. Still, I liked to think I was frustrating them by blowing them off. Then, the moans changed it up:
“Blood… or He will come…”
My own blood turned to ice. I couldn’t understand what I had heard, but the moans repeated it to be sure I got the message.
“Blood… or He will come…”
A knock at the door nearly made me shout in surprise.
Knock, knock, knock.
Not quite the pattern I’d described, but I could tell it was my new guy. I readied the money to slip under the door, then paused to consider my situation.
He could be anywhere, a different city or even another state, but He was out there. Even though I was never sure when He was coming, at least I knew He might not be. These moans, the Moans, They knew. Somehow They knew who I was and what He was. But did They really have the power to bring Him? Was it even worth the risk? This guy, this delivery guy, was a nobody. But I was pretty sure he had some blood in him and that’s what the Moans seemed to want so damn badly. Nobody would miss him, and in the end I sure as hell wasn’t going to throw myself in there.
I weighed my options again, and slowly opened the door.
Click, click, slide, click.
I must have looked like hell, because the delivery boy seemed to flinch when he saw me.
“One Yang’s special for Mr-“
“Yeah, that’s me.”
“That’ll be $12.62.”
“Uh, sure thing. Give me a second.” I slithered back inside and stealthily reached for my trusty baseball bat. Maybe it would get some use after all. “You know what? Shoot. I misplaced my wallet, let me find it. Come inside, have a seat, I’ll just be a second.”
The boy hesitated, but slowly made his way inside.
Crackk.
The poor thing didn’t even realize what was going on until it was too late, and by then he was lying crumpled on my floor. The sound of his last breath seemed to drown out the Moans, just for a second. I took a moment to look over the mess I’d made. There was blood and Chinese food all over my rug, no telling how I was going to get that out. I shut the door and reset the locks.
Click, click, slide, click.
The boy wasn’t stirring, and I didn’t expect him to. Honestly, I was surprised my bat hadn’t broken, and admittedly a little disappointed. I expected much more of a spectacle than this, but this was the truth of it: just ugly, cold-blooded murder.
The Moans were ecstatic, as if They sensed what had just happened. I searched the body and found a wallet. I quickly snatched the few dollars that were in there and threw the wallet into the pit. I didn’t want to know who this boy was or where he was from. I was at the point of no return, and all that mattered was that He wouldn’t be coming. As I dragged his lifeless body to the pit, I felt the ground tremble as if in anticipation of the…meal? I didn’t care. I pushed him in and he was swallowed up instantly by the darkness.
Almost immediately the Moans stopped Their chants and the entire apartment was eerily silent. I stood there for what seemed like an eternity before I realized They weren’t coming back. I expected something more than this. I almost missed the Moans, They almost made it feel like I wasn’t completely alone.
Luckily, I was able to recover most of the Chinese food! Fully exhausted from my exciting day, I decided that it was probably safe enough to head to bed early for the night. After all, the Moans had promised.
I woke up in the middle of the night to footsteps. They were heavy, much too heavy for anybody in my complex. I wanted to get up and find out what it was, but my body wouldn’t move. I was frozen by some unknown fear and my thoughts didn’t even wander to the bat by my bed.
Thump, thump.
Just the slightest squeak of leather and metal, and I could hear whoever it was stopping in front of my apartment. For a brief, peaceful moment everything was still except for the sound of my sheets rustling as I squirmed under them, clinging to safety and warmth.
Krackkkk.
My front door was splintering from an immense force behind it. I flew out of bed and was rushing to the front room when I was suddenly stopped by the chasm that used to be my apartment floor. My TV, my couch, my armchair, everything was gone. Only a massive void remained, a maw without fangs opened wide for whatever else it could consume.
Krackkkk.
Another burst of strength rattled my doorframe, breaking off one of the locks. It fell silently into the darkness.
I looked all around me, desperate for anything I could use. This was it, He was here and my time was up. My windows were still bolted shut from my early days of seclusion, and I didn’t have the time or the tools to remove them anymore.
Krackkkk.
Yet another lock fell off and down, never to be seen again. The Moans seemed to wake up, and throughout my apartment Their wails and sighs beckoned for more.
“Blood,” They demanded. “He will come!”
If I could just get to my kitchen, I could escape through the window and maybe make a run for it. There was no telling how fast He was, but I had nothing else to go on.
Krackkkk.
He made His intention known as my apartment seemed to shake from the force. Another lock down.
Now there was only one lock remaining between me and Him. I had paid out the ass for it, back when I still had savings to my name. “Keeps you safe or your money back!” the tagline had read. I snickered at the hubris of the hardware store salesman, he had no idea what I might need it for.
Just a few feet away — eight maybe? — I could see a small patch of floor remaining in my kitchen. If I could only jump to it, I might be able to make it to the window. With another helpless look around my living room, and a glance at what remained of my poor battered door, I held my breath and jumped.
But not far enough.
I remember sinking into the darkness as my floor seemed to fly above me. From off in the distance I could hear my door finally being broken down. I was falling fast, too fast to even comprehend, yet I felt like I was going nowhere. Nothing remained of the world around me, and I seemed to float in nothingness. A lock caught up to me and landed right on top my head.
With a start I woke up in my seat. My apartment was here, everything was right where I had put it. My door was secure, and my kitchen floor was entirely intact. My baseball bat was no longer bloodied, and daylight was beginning to come through the kitchen window. I was holding my breath, my mind trying to catch up.
Krackkkk
went my door as He sent it flying through the room. I couldn’t help but laugh.
