Cold Knocks
Write a spooky micro-fiction story that starts with this first sentence: 'There was only one rule: don’t open the door.'
There was just one rule: don’t open the door. But Daniel never followed rules. Especially not when he could hear his boyfriend crying on the other side, his voice shaky and desperate. “Please,” he whimpered, “let me in.”
Daniel’s heart was racing. He knew it wasn’t really him. Couldn’t be. His boyfriend had died three weeks ago. Ripped apart by something they’d never even seen, just a blur in the woods before everything got covered in blood.
But the knocking kept going, more frantic now, with sobs mixed in. “Daniel, it’s bleedin’ freezin’ oot here. Let me in, for God’s sake.”
His hands shook as they reached for the handle. Just a quick look, he thought. Just to make sure. Fear tasted like metal in his mouth, but guilt gnawed at him worse. He turned the knob, the door creaking as it cracked open a bit.
A foul stench smacked him in the face—rotten meat and sour decay. His boyfriend stood there, gray and bloated, eyes sunken and black as nothingness. His mouth hung open, jagged teeth dripping with something thick and dark.
“Ye let me in, Danny,” he croaked, stepping forward as chunks of rotten flesh fell off, splatting onto the floor. Every step left behind a trail of decay, his body falling apart like it was never his to begin with. But he kept moving toward Daniel, relentless.
The last thing Daniel saw was his boyfriend’s twisted grin before he tore into him, the rule echoing in his mind: don’t open the door.
About the Creator
Christian Bass
An author, who writes tales of human encounters with nature and wildlife. I dive into the depths of the human psyche, offering an insights into our connection with the world around us, inviting us on a journeys.
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The guitar riffs slice through the rain like an army of roaring demons, and there I stand, right in the middle of the crumbling cemetery, ready for the wildest night of my life. In front of me, the zombie rises, its slimy remains looking like someone dumped a chocolate pudding into a cobweb. But I don’t care; the music drives me, and every step feels like an explosion.
By Christian Bassabout a year ago in Horror
Comments (1)
Oh my, that was so creepy! Loved your story!