The three knock rule

My Uncle Ted was a quiet man, but nobody expected him to leave his entire property to me.It wasn’t a massive mansion, just an old, two-story farmhouse at the very edge of town, surrounded by nothing but tall grass and ancient oak trees.The nearest neighbor was a fifteen minute drive down a bumpy dirt road. When I moved in the house felt frozen in time.The floors were made of creaky dark wood, the walls were lined with old framed black and white photos of ancestors I didn't recognize and heating the place required throwing real logs into a stone fireplace.It was peaceful, but a little lonely. On the kitchen counter, Uncle Ted had left behind a yellowed piece of notebook paper with instructions on how to take care of the place.It had normal things written on it, like how to unjam the well pump and which firewood burned the longest.But at the very bottom of the page, written in thick, messy ink, was a final note "If you hear someone knock on the front door after midnight, do not answer it.Don't look through the peephole, and don't peek through the windows.Just turn off the lights and go to sleep." I laughed when I first read it.Uncle Ted was an old man who lived alone in the woods, it made sense that he was a bit paranoid.I tossed the note in the junk drawer and forgot all about it. For the first three weeks, everything was completely normal.I spent my days fixing up the porch and my nights reading by the fire.But on a Tuesday night, a massive thunderstorm hit the valley.The wind was howling, slamming rain against the side of the house so hard it sounded like handfuls of gravel hitting the glass. At exactly 1:15 AM

the power went out. The house plunged into total darkness, except the dying red embers in the fireplace. I sighed, reaching for the flashlight on my nightstand.Just as my fingers wrapped around the cold metal, a sound cut through the noise of the storm. Knock Knock Knock Three heavy, deliberate thuds echoed from downstairs. I froze in my bed.My heart gave a sudden, hard thud against my ribs.I told myself it was just a loose tree branch hitting the front porch.The wind was blowing wildly outside, after all. I waited, holding my breath. Two minutes passed.Then, it happened again. Knock Knock Knock It was too rhythmic to be a tree branch.Someone was standing out on my porch in the middle of a midnight torrential downpour.My practical mind took over.What if a driver had crashed their car on the dirt road?What if someone was hurt and needed a phone?I couldn't just leave them out there in a dangerous storm. Forgetting Uncle Ted’s warning, I grabbed my flashlight and quietly made my way down the creaking staircase. The air downstairs felt freezing.I walked into the entryway, the beam of my flashlight shaking slightly against the heavy wooden front door.I stood there for a long moment, listening.Outside, the rain was relentless, but I couldn't hear any footsteps or breathing. "Hello?" I called out.

"Is someone there?" No one answered. I placed my hand on the cold brass doorknob, ready to turn it.But then, Uncle Ted's messy handwriting flashed in my mind.

"Don't look through the peephole." Against my better judgment, curiosity won.I leaned forward, pressed my eye against the tiny glass lens of the peephole, and clicked off my flashlight so the person outside wouldn't see the light shine through. The porch was dimly lit by the occasional flash of lightning in the sky. Standing right in front of the door was a man.He was wearing a heavy, dripping wet wool coat.But he wasn't facing the door, he was standing with his back completely turned to me, staring out into the dark yard. As I watched, his right arm slowly lifted up, his elbow bent completely backward with a sickening, wet pop sound.Without turning his body around, his backwards arm reached behind him and struck the wooden door right in front of my face. Knock Knock Knock I stumbled backward, dropping my flashlight.It clattered loudly against the floorboards, rolling into the darkness.My breath came in short, panicked gasps.That wasn't a stranded driver.It wasn't human. I backed away from the door, keeping my eyes locked on the lock, terrified the doorknob would start to turn.But the doorknob stayed still. Instead, a second later, a brand new sound echoed from the dark hallway behind me. Knock Knock Knock Something was knocking on the inside of my basement door.

To be continued...