Night Time Story: The Knock at 3 AM
It started on a Wednesday.
Three sharp knocks at the front door.
Elliot sat up in bed, heart pounding. He checked his clock—3:00 AM. Too late for visitors. Too early for neighbors.
He crept downstairs, peered through the peephole.
Nothing.
The next night, it happened again.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Again, no one was there. No footprints in the snow. No rustling in the bushes. Just silence.
By the third night, Elliot was ready. He sat by the door, gripping a flashlight. When the knocks came, he swung it open—fast.
The porch was empty. But this time, there was something new.
A single handprint. Too small to be an adult’s, too smudged to be fully human.
Elliot slammed the door. He didn’t sleep that night.
The knocking continued every night at 3 AM. He stopped answering. Stopped checking.
But one night, it didn’t stop.
It kept going. Louder. Harder.
Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.
Elliot covered his ears. His heart pounded.
And then—silence.
When he finally looked through the peephole…
The handprint was now on the inside of the door.
By Lenora Graves
