“Trick or treat!”
Tara grinned, strands of her long, red hair falling in front of her face.
“Oh wow! My, my, what scary costumes. Here you go.” She distributed full sized Snickers into the small pumpkin pails for each of the costumed children that stood on her porch.
“Thank you!” they cried with glee, their eyes lighting up when they saw the candy.
Tara’s smile widened. “You’re welcome. Happy Halloween!”
The children skipped off down the driveway, excitedly chattering about their candy haul. The adult chaperoning the children gave Tara a brief wave before huddling the group of excited kids together and began walking down the street.
Closing the front door, Tara set the bowl of candy down on the small hall table. She glanced down at its contents. Her supplies were dwindling. She glanced at the clock. 8:12PM. Most of the young trick or treaters would be heading home.
She shut off the porch light, a signal that she was done for the night.
Checking that the door was locked, she grabbed a Snickers from the bowl and made her way into the lounge, unwrapping the candy as she flopped onto the couch.
Flicking through the TV channels, she finally settled on an old black and white horror movie.
Her eyes felt heavy. It had been a trying few weeks. It began when she had her car broken into. A week later, she woke to a loud crackling sound. Opening her eyes, she screamed as her bedroom filled with thick black smoke. Emerging from her bedroom, Tara was confronted by bright orange flames outside her apartment window.
The apartment complex had been evacuated and eventually the residents learned the fire had been deliberately lit.
Fortunately for Tara, her friend, Julie, had been kind enough to take her in.
Hoping her bad luck was over, Tara had tried to gain access to her apartment to see what she could salvage. While she was going through her belongings, her car was broken into a second time. This time, the thief stole her purse as well as her bible.
Tara snuggled down on the couch, propping herself up on her elbow, as she focused on the film. The movie was about carnival workers and the horrors of being a part of the sideshow. She yawned loudly. After everything she had dealt with in the past few weeks, she was starting to feel some form of normality.
Her apartment had been labelled condemned, police advising her that she wouldn’t be allowed to move back in until it had been made structurally sound. Julie had told it that she was welcomed to stay for as long as she needed to. Tara had been grateful for that.
Knock Knock.
A knock at the door pulled Tara from her thoughts. She glanced over her shoulder. Getting to her feet, she shuffled towards the door, her footsteps thudding loudly on the wooden floors of the hall.
Knock Knock.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m coming!”
Tara grabbed the candy bowl, unlocked the door and pulled it open.
The porch was empty.
She glanced around, perplexed. Had she imagined the knocking?
Closing the door, Tara shrugged.
She placed the candy bowl back onto the hall table and started making her way back to the lounge, scolding herself for allowing her imagination getting the best of her.
Knock Knock.
Tara froze. She definitely heard knocking that time. She turned around, staring at the front door.
Knock Knock.
She moved back to the door, pulling it open. Again, there was no one there.
“Hello?” she called, stepping out onto the small wooden porch. She craned her neck, studying the bushes that lined the front of the house.
A car door slammed. Her head snapped up in the direction of the noise. Costumed revelers giggled as they made their way into a house down the street. She could faintly hear the music of the party as they entered the home.
A chill ran down her spine. She wrapped her arms around her body, wishing she wasn’t alone. Julie had been invited to a Halloween party. She had begged Tara to join her, telling her that she needed to get her mind off all the bad luck she had encountered in recent weeks. Tara had politely refused, offering to hand out candy to trick or treaters instead.
She stepped back inside, regretting her decision to stay behind. She closed the door, bolting it. She peered through the peephole, in hopes of catching a glimpse of whoever was tormenting her.
“It’s just a prank,” she told herself. “Just some bored teenagers. You are fine. You’re safe.” She took a deep breath.
She went back to the lounge. The black and white movie had ended, credits rolling across the screen.
“Great,” she said aloud, disappointment in her voice. She sank into the couch, tucking her feet beneath her. She picked up the remote and began channel surfing. She settled on a children’s channel that was running cartoon Halloween specials.
Knock Knock.
Tara shook her head. She turned the volume up and tried to ignore the banging at the front door.
Knock Knock.
Tara pursed her lips, focusing on the television screen. She craned her neck, her head turned towards the door.
Knock Knock.
Sighing, Tara got to her feet. She made her way towards the front of the house. Instead of going to the door, Tara moved into the study.
Peering through a gap in the curtain, Tara scanned the front yard. She didn’t see anyone. Pressing her face against the window, she struggled to see the front porch.
Knock Knock.
Tara stood up. That knocking was more aggressive.
“Two can play this game,” she mumbled to herself. She exited the study, grabbing a baseball bat that was in the hall closet.
She pulled open the door, brandishing the bat. “Listen here, asshole!” she screamed, stepping onto the porch. “I’m not playing around anymore. Fuck off!”
She ran down the steps, searching through the bushes. She prodded the bushes with the bat, cursing loudly as she ripped into the shrubs.
Convinced there was no one hiding in them, Tara returned to the house. With one last sweep of the front yard, Tara closed the door, bolting it again.
Leaning against the door, she closed her eyes.
“It’s got to be teens,” she told herself. “They’re probably trying to do some challenge for social media or trying to create a viral video. They want a reaction from you.” She sucked in a deep breath. She closed her eyes. Her mouth was dry. She swallowed hard.
Knock Knock.
Tara jumped, a shrill screech escaping her as she backed away from the door.
“Who’s there?” she cried. “Who’s there?”
The hair on the back of Tara’s neck prickled as she edged closer to the door.
Holding the bat close to her body, she peered through the peephole again. The darkness of the night stared back at her. The streetlamp near the mailbox flickered.
Tara stepped away from the door, switching off the hall light.
Still clutching the bat, she walked back to the lounge. A new cartoon was blaring from the TV as she tentatively perched herself on the edge of the couch.
She waited with bated breath for the knocking to begin again. She glanced at the clock. It was 9:36PM.
Her stomach rumbled. Getting to her feet, Tara made her way to the kitchen. She began making herself a sandwich, pausing every few seconds to peer out the window.
The knocking had ceased. While she was happy that it had stopped, paranoia had set in. Each time she walked past by a window, she found herself peering into the darkness, searching the trees and bushes for any signs of pranksters.
Tara devoured the sandwich. Her tongue darted out between her lips, licking the corners of her mouth, ensuring she had no crumbs stuck to her face.
Knock Knock.
Tara groaned, her eyes rolling.
She put the plate in the sink and checked the time. 10:17PM.
With her mouth full, she made her way back to the front door.
Knock Knock.
Tara unlocked the door, pulling it open. She stepped onto the porch, swallowing hard. “Listen asshole, I’ve got a gun and an itchy trigger finger!” she cried, her heart pounding in her chest. She hoped she sounded convincing because her legs were shaking.
She turned around, stomping back inside, slamming the heavy door behind her.
Wired, she went back to the couch, flopping onto the chaise, her head on the oversized cushions Julie had adorned her living room with.
She mindlessly found herself drawn into the world of Halloween animation as she chuckled at the unfortunate misgivings of the characters as they hunted for the urban legend of their hometown.
Tara yawned, stretching her hands up high in the air. She couldn’t believe how tired she was.
Getting to her feet, she switched the television off. She did a quick sweep of the lower level before stopping at the front door. She unlocked the door before opening it. She stepped onto the porch, the cool air tickling her skin.
Her eyes scanned the darkness. The earlier events had left her wary, but she hadn’t been disturbed for just over an hour so she figured whoever had been bashing on the front door must have grown bored with their antics and left.
She went back inside, locking the door behind her, before retreating upstairs for bed.
She closed her bedroom door before removing her ivory silk shirt. She had never been able to sleep with her bedroom door open. For as long as she could remember, she had to have it closed.
Changing into her nightgown, Tara crawled into bed, her vibrant red locks framing her face as her head hit the pillow.
She rolled onto her side and turned out the light.
Knock Knock.
Tara groaned, rolling over. She hugged her pillow, refusing to open her eyes.
Knock Knock.
Tara’s eyes snapped open. They focused on the clock beside the bed. 2:00AM.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” she mumbled to herself. “They’re back?!”
She swung her legs out of bed, her bare feet gripping the shaggy rug that lined the floor.
Knock Knock.
Tara froze. The hairs on her arms stood up as a chill ran down her spine.
The knocking wasn’t coming from the front door. It was coming from her bedroom door.
She snapped on the light, blinding herself. Her heart was thumping so hard, she was afraid it was going to break through her chest. What was she going to do?
Her mind was racing as she scanned the room for some sign of a weapon. Stupidly, she had left the bat downstairs by the couch.
Her phone was on the nightstand. She pounced on it, her fingers hovering over the keypad. She paused. Quickly, she opened her YouTube app and searched for a gunshot sound.
Knock Knock.
She tapped her foot impatiently as the ads played before the video. With her volume low, she listened for the gunshot sound. She rewound the video until it was a second just before the gunshot sounded. She turned her volume up to as loud as possible. She placed her phone into her speaker dock, ensuring the volume was at its highest.
“I warned you!” she cried, tears prickling in the corners of her eyes. “I have a gun.” She pressed play on the video.
BANG!
She paused the video. “That was a warning shot!” she screamed. “The next one will go right through your head!”
The floorboards outside her bedroom creaked. Heavy sounding footsteps moved down the landing towards the stairs.
It took Tara a few moments to realize she was holding her breath. Fearing that whoever was outside her door would return, she dialed the police.
A noise from downstairs had her rocking back and forth on her heels. The dispatcher on the phone told her the police were moments away.
Against her better judgement, Tara opened her bedroom door just enough to see the hall. Carefully, she hugged the wall, making her way to the stairs.
One foot in front of the other, Tara made her way down the stairs, her phone pressed against her ear.
She reached the lower floor and made her way into the lounge where she left the baseball bat. Her eyes strained in the dark. Shadows danced over the walls and floor, the moonlight shining through the open front door.
Tara did a double take. Her whole body began to shake, tears sliding down her cheeks. She dropped the baseball bat and collapsed on the ground.
The front door was wide open with a piece of paper pinned beneath the brass knocker.
Written on the paper, in what looked like blood, were the words “Knock Knock.”
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