Knock, Knock

“They say this lake is haunted.” Jake began. He held a light beneath his chin, shining it upwards to cast eerie, upside-down shadows on his face.

“It all started thirty years ago. A husband and wife came to stay in the lakehouse for the winter so they could spend the holidays skiing in the mountains.

One day, they were taking a break from skiing to go skating on the lake. But just as they were getting ready to go back inside, the husband heard something knocking on the ice.” Jake gave a dramatic pause, looking around at the five other boys watching and listening from their bunks.

“He shouted to his wife that there must be someone trapped under the ice, and ran to get an ice pick-”

“How was he running?” Asked one of the other boys.

“What?” Jake asked.

“You can’t run in skates.” The boy replied.

“Tyler definitely can’t!” Another boy added. Tyler, a wiry, round-faced boy on the bottom bunk opposite Jake, turned red. Jake shrugged.

“Ran, skated, who cares? He said there must be someone trapped under the ice and went to get an ice pick-”

“But how did they get down there?”

“No way someone would have survived under the ice that long if they didn’t even see them fall in.”

Jake lowered his flashlight. “Look, do you want to finish the fucking story?” Silence. “Alright, then shut the fuck up and let me tell it.” He took a breath.

“As I was saying, the husband heard a knocking from under the ice, and skated over to his bag to get an ice pick. His wife said he must have misheard, since there was no way anyone could survive under the ice,” Jake glared at the previous interrupter, “but then she heard it too. Knock, knock, right under her feet.

The man came back with a pick and started hacking at the ice to break through. Whack whack whack.” Jake mimed swinging an ice pick. “And every time he paused for breath, he heard it again. Knock, knock. After a few more swings, he made it through. He looked down, through the crack in the lake, but he couldn’t see anything but darkness. He was just about to give up and leave, when crack! The ice broke, and he fell - but not into water.

See, the couple didn’t know it at the time but the lake drains into a system of caves when it doesn’t rain, and it hadn’t rained in weeks. Since there were only a few inches of water left, the man fell forty feet to the bottom of the lake. From above, his wife heard a crunch as he hit the ground and shattered his legs. She rushed to get a rope as he screamed, and she screwed the rope into the ice and followed him down. All the while, he was stuck in the darkness with only the echoes of his screams for company.”

By now, any inclination towards interruption had left the other boys, who sat in rapt attention.

“She got to the bottom, and was starting to help her husband up the rope, when suddenly they heard a snap from above, and the screw came loose and fell down to join them, trapping them underground. As they started to try to come up with a new plan to get out, they heard it. Right on the edge of their hearing, so quiet you could almost miss it. Knock, knock.”

Jake was whispering now. Tyler, the youngest of the group, was beginning to turn pale.

“They called out, ‘is anyone there?!’ but there was no reply. It was silent for a moment, then they heard it again, closer this time. It seemed to be coming from one of the cave tunnels that ran under the lake.

The man’s legs were broken; he couldn’t walk - so the woman took their only flashlight and went to investigate, leaving her husband alone in the dark. She walked for an hour, following a thin trickle of water that was running through the cave. In the end she reached an opening, but it had a metal grate over it so people didn’t go in.

The woman yelled and yelled for someone to come, and eventually some hikers heard her and helped remove the grate so she could get out. As soon as they did, she told them about her husband and they went back in with a stretcher to find him… but when they got back to the cavern beneath the lake, there was no sign of him anywhere. No rope, no blood… it was as if he’d never even been there. The woman stayed at the lakehouse with a search party to keep looking for her husband, but he was never seen again.

After that, strange things started to happen in the local town. People reported hearing knocks at their doors in the middle of the night, but when they went to go check they couldn’t see anyone out the window. One night, a guy heard a knock at his neighbour’s door. He figured it was just some kids playing a prank and went back to sleep. When he woke up though, his neighbour’s door was wide open - and his neighbour was nowhere to be found. That was when people realised. The grates weren’t there to keep people out of the caves. They were there to keep something in.

The woman who lost her husband gave up and left town in the end. But even now, thirty years later, people occasionally hear knocks at the door when no-one’s there. And the locals say you should never, ever open the door if you do.”

Jake ended with a flourish, looking around to see the effect that his tale had had on the group. Most put on a show of ashen-faced bravado, but young Tyler looked more ghost than boy. The room fell silent for a while.

“So who’s next?” Jake asked, sitting back. There was a pause.

“I’ll go.” Said another boy. He scooched forward to sit on the edge of his bed and made a show of clearing his throat.

“It all began a long time ago. A young girl was walking in the mountains, when she-”

He was interrupted by a knock at the door.

No-one breathed, suddenly aware of the ticking of a clock in the hallway and the gentle rustling of leaves beyond the shuttered window.

Knock, knock. It was louder this time.

“Should we answer?” Asked the boy whose story has been interrupted.

“Not it.” Replied Jake instantly, putting a finger to his nose. The others swiftly followed. All except Tyler, just a hair too slow. His eyes went wide.

“What’s wrong, Tyler? Scared of the ghost of the lake?” The other boys began to tease as his face turned red.

Tyler stood.

“I’ll get it.” He said, his voice cracking. “I’m not scared. Just a stupid story.” He slipped on his shoes and opened the bedroom door.

“Try not to get eaten.” Whispered Jake. A chorus of laughter followed. Tyler bit back a retort, snatched Jake’s flashlight from him, and started down the stairs towards the door.

“Bet it’s just one of the locals playing a prank,” he muttered to himself. Gritting his teeth, he pulled back the bolt of the door and threw it open. A cool breeze rushed in to greet him. He looked out at the empty drive.

“Hello?” Tyler asked quietly. He peered around the door, looking to either side of the doorway. Nothing. To the side, he thought he heard the faint crunch of footsteps. “Is anyone there?” he called, a little louder. He thought he could just make out a shape moving in the moonlight. Tyler stepped forwards, shining the light into the shadows.

Bang. A sudden gust of wind slammed the door shut behind him. Tyler yelped despite himself, rushing back and grabbing at the handle. It wouldn’t turn.

“Guys, this isn’t funny! Let me in!” He rattled the handle desperately, looking over his shoulder into the encroaching night. After a few seconds, he swore to himself and began a frantic dash around the house to the back door.

He found it blessedly unlocked and rushed back into the house, shutting and bolting the door firmly behind him. Furious, he began storming back up the stairs, shouting even as he opened the bedroom door.

“I swear, you guys are such assholes-” the room was deserted.

The beds were made, the cupboards empty.

There was no trace of Jake or the others at all. It was as if they had never even been there.

“What the hell...”

Downstairs, something creaked.

Tyler froze. He shut off the flashlight.

Another creak.

Every hair on his body standing on its end, Tyler began to creep, slowly and silently, over to one of the open cupboards. Holding his breath, he slipped inside and eased the door shut with an imperceptible click.

There, in quivering blackness, he waited.

Silence.

After what felt like the longest minute of his life, Tyler allowed himself a long, shaky breath.

That was when he heard it. A slow, solid pounding on the cupboard door.

Knock, knock.