This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Mintjump on 2024-09-29 17:31:58+00:00.

Knock Knock Knock

The knocking was barely loud enough to pull me out of my sleep. With my eyes drooping from tiredness, I pulled out my phone and checked the time. 3:33 AM. Who the hell was at my door at 3 in the morning?

With my back still hurting from the unpacking at this new apartment, I got up and slowly walked to my door. The white painted wooden door looked as if placed in the spotlight by the moonlight coming from the window.

Swing

I swing open the door and… no one. Whoever decided to break my sleep in the night was already gone. Maybe a drunk neighbor knocked on the wrong door before realizing their mistake? Who knows. I closed the door and retired back to my cozy sleep. You can’t blame me for not suspecting more. How could I have known the knocking would come back the next night?

Knock Knock Knock

The knocking came back, breaking my sleep yet again. My eyes shot open, and I checked my phone in frustration. 3:33 AM. I’d had a terrible day, so naturally, I stomped furiously out of the bedroom toward my door.

“This is my second day in this bloody place and you all can’t even let me sleep.” I swing open the door with a frown visible on my face.

There was no one. Of course. I grunted, locked the door, and after mourning my interrupted sleep decided to hit the bed again.

The knocking continued for another three days, leaving me restless each night. It was the same thing at the same time each night. Three knocks at 3:33 AM. The constant commotion had robbed me of sleep, and my exhaustion festered into anger. I was going to find out who was doing this.

So, I sat on my sofa all night waiting for 3:33 AM. By the time the clock hit it, I was struggling to keep my eyes open with all the willpower I had. As soon as the clock hit 3:33, I jumped up, ran to the door with all the anger that had piled up through the nights, and swung open the door yet again… to an empty hallway.

“Motherfucker lucked out today.” I whispered.

And then I heard it.

Knock Knock Knock

But this time the knocking did not come from the main door. It came from behind me. My body grew cold and my anger was replaced with a realization that made my spine shiver. Slowly, and unwillingly, I turned around.

The knocking had come from my bedroom door which was shut close. Was someone in my bedroom? Was I in danger? What should I do? Should I call the cops? All the adrenaline pumped by my anger had dried out while I contemplated what to do.

“Hello? Is anyone there?” I asked loudly. When no answer came back, I slowly went and turned the doorknob of my bedroom. As the door squeakily opened, it revealed my bedroom with someone in it. All my blood dried and I stared at the person laying in my bed, unable to move a muscle as if I were in sleep paralysis. The person was… me.

I watched my mangled body, with its blood red eyes and mouth that was frozen in its scream. And then the door flew shut in my face knocking me back on the living room floor. My eyes swelled up and I curled into a little ball and cried for the remainder of the night, unable to process the fact that I just saw my very own dead body.

I must have dozed off because the next thing was me waking up the next night. With a dried mouth and tired eyes, I crawled my way to my phone in the living room and checked the time. I was a minute early. I waited for a minute until 3:33 AM hit.

Knock Knock Knock

Even though I was curled up just in front of the main door, I couldn’t muster the courage to open it. But then it flew open, showing me the empty hallway. I kept staring at the empty hallway and after a while noticed that the roof had a person stuck to it. And then, without warning, the figure dropped with a loud thud. I screamed and cried as I saw the person was my body. Laying on the floor, it looked at me with its dead eyes that bled tears of blood.

“Please Stop!” I cried.

It did not stop though. Every night, I pass out from exhaustion after crying, only to wake moments before the inevitable knock. I don’t eat or drink anymore. What’s the point? The knocks have shown me so many ways that I can die, each one worse than the last. I can’t take this anymore. I want to escape but the doors won’t let me.

I am writing this at 3:30 AM. Only three minutes until the knocking shows another death of me. I just wish this time it kills me for real. Because I am scared, I am scared that this is going to continue forever.