At Midnight Came A Stranger

Silence.

I was falling into a bottomless dark well when a rope tied itself around my waist and swiftly pulled me back to the top. Before I could investigate who or whatever was responsible, I heard a loud tapping noise that invariably drew me out of my sleep.

My eyes blinked tentatively, and my fear was that I’d slipped and fallen back into the well when my eyes gradually awakened to the gloom that was my one-room apartment.

There was a loud knocking on my door. Persistent and irritating, like whoever it was couldn’t wait to get my attention.

“Wha . . . What the hell?”

I ran my hand over my face and it came away with sweat. Begrudgingly, I came off the bed and switched on the light. The knocking was still happening.

“All right!” I braked, stopping to crack a yawn and stretch my limps. “Cool the hell down! I’m coming, y’hear?”

I cursed aloud as I familiarised myself with my environment all the while the relentless knocking continued like the bastard hadn’t heard me. I looked at my watch and saw it was several minutes past midnight. I approached the door and the knocking stopped once I turned the key in the lock and grabbed the handle, ready to rip someone’s skull in half as I wrenched the door open.

“Who the fuck is you—”

I stopped. There was no one there—nobody at all. I stepped out of my apartment threshold and looked down either side of the lengthy corridor. Nothing. I scratched my head, wondering if I’d actually heard what I heard.

I shrugged and returned into my apartment. I locked the door and was about to jump back into bed when the knocking began again.

“The fuck!” I exclaimed. “The fuck is this, the Twilight Zone? WHAT?”

The knocking kept on rapping, persistent and as irritating as before. I undid the lock—heard the knocking stop—and when I flung the door open, again, nobody was there to answer me. This time I went and badgered my neighbour’s apartment door to inquire if they, or one of their kids, was playing a foolish prank on me. Neither gave me the answer I sought. I groaned and cursed aloud as I returned to my door.

“Whoever the fuck you are,” I barked at the empty corridor. “If you wanna come inside, then come. If not, go away and stop bothering me. I’m warning you.”

Nothing happened. I waited some seconds and then stepped back into my apartment and slammed the door shut and locked the door once more.

“Thank you,” said a man’s voice.

I turned sharply, gasped, and looked everywhere. Nobody.

My eyes raced everywhere in a frantic panic.

There was my bed, a table-top fridge that stood beside the door leading into my bathroom/toilet, a desk and a chair across the room, my bags that contained the meagre possessions I had in the world, and nothing . . . or rather, nobody. My window was open and a cool breeze fluttered the curtains. I approached the window and looked outside. There was nothing but the view from the third floor, where I resided.

Had I heard someone for real, or was I going crazy?

“I’m over here,” the voice said.

The voice came from my left, beside my desk and chair. I jumped back when I heard the chair creak.

“I’m sorry, I forget you cannot see me. My apologies.”

I was so frightened I could barely move. I wanted to jump out of the window, except I’d either break a leg and arm, or something worst from the height. I couldn’t flee the room either because my legs could barely move.

“W-wh-who . . . who the . . . what the fuck are you?”

“Just a stranger passing through. Sorry, I was feeling cold outside and needed a place to stay warm.”

“Wh-why . . . why knock at my door?”

“I knocked at your neighbours’ door, but you’re the only one who let me in.”

“Let you in?”

“Sorry, you invited me in. Remember? You said if I want to come inside then I should. I did.”

“What . . . what the fuck do you want?”

“Start with a glass of water, please. My throat is parched.”

I grabbed a glass on my desk—you could say I snatched it, fearful that I might get grabbed—rushed across the room to fill the glass and then returned. I stopped a foot from the chair and stretched my arm while holding the glass. I gasped when I felt something grab it.

“You may let go now, thank you.”

I did.

The glass dangled in the air and I shuffled backwards clumsily, eyes agog, too scared to scream. The glass tipped slighted and I saw the water drain out of it like it was being poured to the floor . . . except not a drop of water touched the floor. I heard a gulping noise—the type of noise you’d expect someone to make when they’re guzzling water.

“This isn’t real,” I muttered. “I must be . . . I must be fucking dreaming. This shit isn’t real.”

There came a smacking noise, followed by an ‘Aahhh!” Then a belch.

“Pardon me,” the voice said. “I’ve been wandering the world too long.”

The glass was empty. The glass turned upside down and the ghost shook it at me, wanting me to come and retrieve it. I did. I held the glass by the tip like it were an explosive and went and dropped it in my bathroom sink; that would be the last time I used that glass for anything.

“You can go back to sleep if you’d like,” the voice said. “I’ll doze off too for a while.”

“Who . . . who are you?”

Silence first, then: “Who am I? Strange question it is. I was someone once—someone with a name. But the name means nothing for me anymore. That was ages ago. Now I am the roaming nameless. Pardon me once again, but have you any cigarette?”

I shook my head.

“Ah, so unfortunate. I always enjoy a good smoke before falling asleep. Alas a long time ago. These days I cannot tell when I’m asleep or not.”

“What are you?” I asked.

“A roaming nameless. There’s plenty like me out there, beyond your door. Cursed to roam the earth with nary a place to rest, waiting to be called.”

“Called? By who?”

“He who has no name,” said the voice. “He who is all and none. He who comes at the end of time itself. Perchance you know who I refer to?”

I said nothing. I stood there fascinated by what I was hearing, by everything that’s happened since I woke up. I kept pinching myself hoping to be woken, yet so far nothing. This was as real as reality could be.

“I maimed someone,” the voice continued; the voice sounded melancholic. “A very, very, important person he was. A king.”

“You killed a king?”

“He was beyond all kings. He was a king among kings, greater than all mortal kings, yet you’d never knew if you saw him. I believed in him—I worshipped him—yet for a price I took his life. With my lips . . . my pointing finger, I delivered him to his death.”

I said nothing.

“For that I was punished by all. I fled into the wilderness. I ate from the earth, drank from poisoned wells and dry rivers. I died where nobody would see me. My body rotted under the sun . . . and yet I didn’t die. I’ve roamed the earth since, waiting for when he returns to claim me. To claim everything that’s his.”

I couldn’t think of what to say. Besides that, I was tired and had a long day ahead of me; I needed to get back to sleep before my brain exploded.

“Do you mind if I turn off the light?” I asked.

“Go ahead, do whatever; I won’t bother you. Thank you for giving me an ear. It’s not often I meet a welcoming someone like yourself.”

“Whatever,” I said.

I switched off the light and slipped back into bed. I lay tense initially, fearing the ghost—or whatever it was—might crawl into bed beside me. Nothing of such happened; I might as well have been alone with myself. My eyes closed shut and I returned to falling into the bottomless well and this time, nothing held me.

Morning arrived. I woke up and broke into a wide yawn, but stopped when I remember my last night visitor. I turned around and saw my chair still where it had always been. I said hello but got no response. My midnight visitor was gone. There was a piece of paper and a pen on the desk. I picked it up and read what was written on it.

Thank you for a wonderful night. Yours truly – Iscariot.

“Judas”, I muttered breathlessly. “Oh my fucking God, no fucking way!”

The paper fell from my hand and remained on the floor while I sat on the chair and held my head in both hands, hoping I wasn’t going insane.