The One Knock

Sundown Hills—a quiet, small American town where Halloween means brightly lit houses, candy canes, and the sound of children laughing. But on one corner of town, there is an old house that is pitch black on Halloween night.

No jack-o-lanterns.

No bowls of candy.

And most importantly—no doors open.

Because the residents of that house know—

“Every Halloween, he knocks once more.”

It’s Halloween 1987.

Six-year-old Leo Hansen went out in costume like every other kid. He was a cheerful yellow clown. He had a bag of candy in his hand, a smile on his face.

But that day, his friends abandoned him—for a “fun” party. They say, “Leo, knock on that old Blackwell house. I heard no one opens!”

Leo steps forward boldly. The house was a hundred years old, the paint on the door was peeling, the windows were dark and dusty. He knocks once.

Knock.

No one answers.

He knocks again.

Knock. Knock.

Suddenly the door opens a little—a cold breeze blows in.

Then?

No one sees Leo again.

Every Halloween since then, at ten o’clock at night, there’s a knock at the door of that house.

A knock.

Just one.

Witnesses say they’ve seen a small shadow—in a yellow costume, swinging a bag, nothing on its face. It comes, knocks once on the door, and then disappears.

If no one answers—it leaves.

But what if someone opens the door?

Then that person is never seen again.

In 2018, Mr. and Mrs. Rodriguez, new residents of the town, didn’t know about it. They decorated the entire house for Halloween, lights, sounds, smoke—everything.

It was a little late, but the doorbell didn’t ring.

Then, at exactly 10 p.m.—a silent knock.

Knock.

Mrs. Rodriguez opened the door and said, “Sorry, we’re out of—”

She couldn’t finish.

No one was outside. Only a bag of candy lay on the floor. When they picked it up, they found a white note inside:

“He knocked. You opened.”

The next morning, Mr. Rodriguez’s body was found in the town’s old cemetery—in an open grave. Wearing Leo’s costume.

Halloween 2023.

Molly Denver was a podcaster—she worked on ghost stories, and she believed, “All ghost stories are rumors.” She decided to stay at the Blackwell house this Halloween. She would live stream. She would prove it—“There’s no ghost. No boy. Just myth.”

She kept the camera on all night. Her followers saw—nothing was happening.

At exactly 10 p.m., a knock came over the microphone—

Toke.

Molly laughed and said, “There it is! The famous knock!”

She walked toward the door.

Viewers wrote in the chat: “Don’t open it!”

“Molly, stop!”

But Molly opened the door.

The camera feed was still running. For a few seconds, nothing was visible. Just whispers.

Then, suddenly, the shadow of a small boy appeared on the screen, in a yellow costume.

The camera shook, a scream came—then Black.

Since that stream, Molly Denver has never been back on the air.

Now there are rules at Sundown Hills.

Every Halloween, all the doors are locked by ten o’clock at night. The lights are turned off. No one makes a sound.

Because everyone knows—

“He knocks only once. Just once.”

If you don’t answer—he’ll leave.

But if you open the door—

then he’ll take you to his place.