Knocks

A group of four gets together for a night of movies and snacks, but things take a turn when they begin sharing scary stories. As requested. My name is Edwin, and here it's a scary story. In twenty thirteen, I was traveling by myself for a small work assignment for an internet publication. The fi charge covered a round trip flight one thousand dollars and a bus ride to the downtown area of a city called gold Stand. However, a friend of mine happened to live there, so when we met up, she offered me a place to stay, and I was able to save money to work on a little side project that had in mind for years. But what I experienced while I was there proved to me something that I wasn't prepared for. Face my friend's younger cousin demanded a scary story. Tell me one, he said, but he didn't sound too excited to hear one. He was known for fast forwarding movies to the scary parts, usually when the witch came along or when the monster decided to come out from under the bed. It was just the way he used to watch them. And when he found out that I'm a bit of a scary storyteller myself. He looked at me challenged me to scare him. I was able to make an excuse not to make him pause the movie. Everyone was watching that one night, if it can even be called watching, because two of them were asleep and his older sister was on her phone. But that excuse and the relief that came from that night had worn out. That had taken about three weeks until we were all at the place where I was going to be staying during my trip at my friend's house. You know, I thought of all the things I had worked together for me to end up right there at that moment. I still think about them today, and it's been years, and yet I still can't quite understand it. His cousin, Elsie was my friend. She's the one that had told me to stay at her house. Her family had become friends of mine too, and it was actually because of that that they let me stay at their home up in the valley. It was away from the downtown area of gold Stand. I was supposed to be there for only a month, but it didn't take long for me to decide to spend a little more time around there. I was a writer, after all, and I submitted my work online with just an Internet connection. Plus I didn't know it yet, but I was about to have one of the most haunting stories of my life. I'm not sure I would ought for finding out about it beforehand if I had been given the chance. Her younger cousin, the one that wanted the story. His name was Alex, and he was going to be spending the night and had used up most of our afternoon by going around the grocery store and finding ingredients. We're gonna make brownies and cookies, but from the same mix. We're gonna bake them that night. The recipe was still on my phone when I pulled it up, and I was grateful because I had screenshot at it from earlier, since just for that night would be stuck without internet and with brownies in the center of the table waiting for them to cool down. All four of us simply sat there, two twenty somethings and two siblings in their pre and mid teenage years. We were making fun of the world without internet and how we wouldn't survive, and all of that was leading up to that question, well more of a strong request, a demand for a scary story. Alex's older sister, Jenna, looked up at me at that exact moment, hopeful for a story as well. Elsie, my friend was the one that was against it. Not here, how about tomorrow in the morning, she suggested. I mean she had told me that she loved scary stories when I told her about my project, but I wasn't going to push it. I could tell she was very nervous. Still, with a smile on her face, she looked at me and suggested that if I wanted to tell one that I could, that it was all right. But there was something in the way she said it, though, that made me change my mind about actually telling one. Plus, being put on the spot to tell a story was not as fun as I thought it would be. I knew dozens of them. Hundreds were the ones that I had written up until then, some that I could barely remember, but no one would know. I could make things up. The stories I would publish would end up on a tiny blog that a handful of people would read and comment on. Plus they were not appropriate for young teenagers. Some involved heavy topics like drugs and alcohol. Others had relationship problems and murder. She brought up something about how the cookies looked better than the brownies, and she stood up to grab the jug of milk from the refrigerator. It was half full, with the label that had the image of a bird in the front. It was just something odd that I noticed and made a mental note of, not sure for what. It was, a habit of mine, suddenly noticing something and then making a note of it while I smiled. For example, like strange formations of the shadows of the trees on the grass, maybe a new way to sign my signature. And even a sudden strange formation of birds up in the sky would make me think of things like death, art and travel. And my notebook was full of little quotes like that, possible titles or blog posts ideas, if you will. We joked around the table about how Alex's mom slept snoring five minutes into the movie, and about the hot chocolate that had come out too strong that night, But there was only a two second period of silence that Alex took advantage of to ask once again for his scary story. Now I was a nervous one, and I shot a look immediately to Elsie, who also caught on. I don't know what to do when I'm put on the spot. And that's when, while looking down at her plate with half a cookie and brown crumbs that had dropped outside of it, she said well whispered that she had a story. Jenna looked at her as her own expression left her face. They just looked at each other as if they were acknowledging what was about to be said, something that they both knew, something that Alex and I were both missing. Alex was the one that spoke up first and whispered back, asking what it was about. I was nervous watching Elsie being so serious. It was a funny story about how we met, and most of our stories together have been funny. I didn't think anyone had ever seen her without a smile or without being happy about something for once, And it wasn't about the missing smile, but it was about the way that her smile dropped that made me feel uneasy. But when I looked over at Jenna, I knew that I was not the only one. I just blurted out if the story didn't have to be real, that I could tell one, and Alex kept pressing though that it needed to be real, but there would be no way that he would know after all, so in my innocent mind back then, knowing full well that ghosts didn't exist, and that scary movies were just movies played by actors and written by talented people, that stories from the minds of famous authors were all made up, made to scare you by any means necessary, even if that meant lying to you assuring you that their story was real. In a split second, I asked myself, why not, What would be so bad about lying to this twelve year old kid about a story I had written and tell him, convince him that it was real. I saw Elsie's shoulders drop as she relaxed from what was going on through her mind. Jenna seemed a little relief too, but my face had given it away or something, because just when I was about to explain to him the story of the haunted car that I had when I first started driving, he smiled and then said that the story was fake. Come on, just a true story. Let Elsie tell it. And it was Jenna's turn to be nervous now, because curiosity had taken over my mind too of seeing them both acting so strangely. Jenna stood up, asking Elsie if it would be okay if she turned on all of the lights in the house. Elsie just nodded. She took out her phone right away to check the time, and I took mine out too. She had asked out loud how long it would take us to finish all the cookies and brownies because of the strange thing with the internet company. This was new to me, but it somehow tied up with the other services in the house. I had learned earlier that if the bill was behind on the internet like theirs was. The guy at the supermarket counter, the one where you pay your bills at and everything, had said that the electric power would be cut right at midnight and then be put back around two or three in the morning automatically, that the payment was all he needed, and that's what he got, without understanding why, And again purely out of curiosity, I asked why they had to do that, Why could out the power and he said that it had already been programmed that way, but that it wouldn't be a problem to just pay our bill on time next time. He made a few jokes about it, saying to be sure that we had backup alarm clocks and that milk wouldn't go bad in the refrigerator for being without power for only three hours. He made a point to look at me as if I was the one with the money, the husband that couldn't take care of his household. Then he shook his head in disappointment and in his own joking but kind of judgmental manner that I'm not used to. Elsie laughed and said that it would be fine, that we'd likely all be asleep by then, But then again, there we were at eleven forty nine at night, still wide awake. All this time, Jenna had been running around the house taking her job really seriously, flicking the lights on from the staircase, the living room, and even the bathroom. We could hear her walking back. When Elsie looked directly at Alex across the table and asked him if he knew that this house was haunted, Jenna had her hands over her mouth, letting out a gentle oh my god, as she sat down, pulling her chair closer to Elsie's. The whole time, I had no idea what was going on, And I mean I like a good scary story, just like anyone else. There was something about them, too, maybe the fact that they both knew something that I didn't. That made me feel that a rational sensation to speed up time and be over it, kind of like when you're on the top of a roller coaster right before that first drop, when you're first learning to drive and the gas pedal hasn't responded yet, when you're slowly stepping on it. When they were building this house, she explained, dad found some strange markings on the bricks they used to build the front of the house. She was getting started. It was nineteen ninety five and in a strike of luck, her dad had gotten an offer for a business that he had started and sold it for a good sum of money, and he used part of it to build a house for Elsie's family. The first part of it was finding a plot of land for it, and once they found one, they had to find a group of builders to come and put the place together. But it was one evening when they were going home the workers when one of them came running up to her dad to ask about a dark patch, the one that was on the ground and what they should do with it burnt two of them confirmed that area maybe a two by eight foot patch. It looked like it had been filled with black ash. The area where they found it had been under the tiny hut or cabin that they had torn down before, and it was the only structure on that lot. His explanation was that it had been used as a kitchen or that specific area had been a fire pit of some sort, and to just continue with the work the next morning to cover it up as expected, to build the foundation of the new house. And so they continued with the built, but all along strange things were being reported around the other workers. Bricks, they said, perfectly fine bricks it had brought and picked out themselves, would have strange markings on them, things that looked like letters in another language, they would say. Supposedly, Elsie's dad had seen them himself, but figured they were likely bored kids from the neighborhood coming into play at night. Once the builders left the plot, after all had been empty for a long time, children might have already started using it as a place to play in. Not thrilled by these complaints, Elsie's dad told the workers to stop with all this nonsense and to just continue with the job. The bricks were going to be covered up, it was not that big of a deal. Word around the job site was spreading about the curse of the land they were working on. One of them believed in it enough to quit, but the other six continued with a job until the structure was completed. But still a lot of them would complain every once in a while of items being moved, of strange whispers through the glassless windows of the brick and c immense structure, and of a little boy one who would toss around a ball in the first floor of the structure. Elsie stopped there for a second, looking directly at Alex, and then flipping her phone over to look at the time. Even outside of the house, the night was quiet. I swear I think we were all holding our breaths. It was Alex's turn to be the nervous one now. Upon seeing the time, Elsie turned off the screen and put it back on her lap. I was about to take mine out, but Elsie quickly continued to story again, and once again I was lost in it. Part two of Knox is coming up right after this. Stay with me, And so the house was completed. Elsie continued, and all but two of the workers remained, the one that was gonna help with the roof and the other that knew about plumbing. And wiring and all that stuff. It was gonna help with that last phase of the house and once the house actually started looking like a house. Both of the workers walked up to Elsie's dad, who was eating a meatball sandwich on the steps of the front porch. But as he lifted up the bag with the worker's food, something he did for them on a daily basis, they told him that they had seen the little boy again, this time crying by the living room on the east end of the house. One of them, a guy named greg Or Gray something like that, said that he approached him at first, thinking that he was just a kid who had snuck into the house in the once vacant lot, but that when the boy turned around, he was met with only a black patch where his face should have been. Greg ran off towards the other guy, who was working on one of the bathroom areas upstairs. He then explained to him what happened. Both of them now having enough experiences there over the span of almost a year building the place, they openly spoke about the ghost boy from the patch. That living room, they said, was built right over the patch of the black ash, and whether that was where the boy had been buried, or if that was where something that the ghost boy was trying to hide. They suggested that they have a look at it, that there was no way that all of the workers had seen him and then have him not be real. Elsie's dad was frustrated by the whole thing, but even if he had wanted to, there would be no way for them to tear down part of the living room to explore this theory of the black patch of ash on the ground. And so the construction just continued. But glass had been installed, the walls had been painted, and then on that very last day, and Elsie's dad was rolling out the rug in the living room before bringing in the furniture. He was lighting it up with the east wall, when suddenly he saw a pair of little shoes in front of him. He said, there was no way that it could have happened, because he had just rolled out the rug himself. When the two shoes appeared dirty, worn, black leather shoes like the kind you'd see on a little boys school uniform, he took them out to the dumpster and made himself believe that the whole thing had only been a prank. Elsie once again pulled out her phone and looked at the time, and without giving us a chance to ask questions, she picked up the pace of the story. Her her mom, and brother had experienced things in the house almost as quickly as they had moved in. At night, they would hear soft cries coming from outside of their windows. They would be alone in one of the rooms and suddenly hear whispers in their ears of words they could not understand. But what bothered them the most and the reason why they strongly considered actually remodeling the entire living room area, was because of the Knox. They would come at night. Mostly everyone would be asleep when Elsie remembers waking up in the middle of the night to the sound of her dad opening the front door and yelling hello into the dark field right in front of her house. When he would get back to his parents room, Elsie would overhear their conversation about who it had been and what they should do about it. Sometimes they would argue about it. One of them believed that something else was going on, a real ghost perhaps, and it was haunting their house, and the other Elsie's dad kept brushing it off, but that exact same way that he did with the workers. At one point, they called the priest to come bless the house, hoping that it would help with the problem. Elsie was about eight or nine years old when that happened, and she remembers that it only made things worse. Elsie then told us about an experience that she had in the house when Jenna was about the age that Alex was at the time. When she told this story to me, around twelve years old. Jenna was a lot like Alex. Like siblings, are sometimes curious and fascinated by stories, And this had happened maybe four or five years before that specific night i'm telling you about. They had agreed to have a sleepover, and Jenna had brought over her bag of toys and a change of clothes. They were going to be watching movies, making popcorn, and playing games all night, you know, standard sleepover things. They had set up a blanket and pillows in the living room that night, set up right in front of the television. I watched Jenna nod in agreements and get closer to Elsie. At this point, she was leaning her head against Elsie's shoulder and looking out toward the plate of uneaten brownies in the center of the table. She was not saying a single word. Alex had been leaning closer to me the whole time, unaware of it to even himself. I think he just didn't want his own back to be the one that faced the living room. Now with an odd seriousness, Elsie continued, and with every word she seemed to be letting out something that she had been holding on to for years. She looked at her phone once again and kept telling us the episode of the show they were watching, Hey Arnold, the one where there's a boy who sits at the footsteps of a building, now fitting it to the one where they keep seeing a mysterious boy and try to figure out where he comes from, and they had just solved it or something. The episode had ended, and during that commercial break they had been getting ready to go to bed when they heard it, the knocking. It wasn't like anything they had heard before. Elsie pressed a mute button on the television, wondering if maybe it had been the channel they were watching. They were both looking out toward the hallway, which was now completely dark, as they waited for any sign of movement that may have caused a knox, and Elsie paused a story and looked at the time once more, she started speaking a little bit faster, a sense of desperation in her voice. They were both completely still that night when suddenly they heard the knocking again. There was no way to know where the sounds were coming from, and, despite Elsie's best effort to keep it together, her being the older one after all, he yelled out for her dad, who immediately opened up the door in the upstairs area and came running down the stairs. He knew what had happened. He went straight for the door, but upon opening it, he gasped, slammed the door shut, locked it, and ordered them to follow him. The knocks were heavy now immediately behind them, unclear if they were coming from the front door, from a window, or from the floor. Jenna was crying the whole time, not quite understanding what was going on, but aware that something wasn't the way it was supposed to be. They ran up the stairs and into Elsie's parents' bedroom, where her mom was just as confused, but hugged them both, reassuring the girls that things were going to be okay. Her dad used the phone to call someone and briefly explained the situation, only saying the boy is back. The boy is back. Whoever he was talking to was begging him not to call the thing by any name. He was angry when he asked how else was he supposed to explain what happened without describing it. Elsie's dad never spoke much more about what he had seen, and all of the images Elsie and Jenna had ever gotten etched into their minds was about a boy, one that they had never seen themselves. Elsie looked at the phone and then showed it to me twelve oh one am. We looked at each other, relieved. Alex turned to Jenna to ask if the story was in fact true, and without leaving Elsie's shoulder, she said that yeah, that she still remembers it and that it scared her for a very long time, but didn't say much else. We all once again simply sat there and the dining room area of the house lost in the story that had once scared everyone but had finally died down. It was Alex who finally asked if that's why the living room looks different in the pictures from back then, And as it turns out, yeah, the living room had been broken and replaced after they did some digging in that area, they found several clay pots, scraps of remains of an old fire pit there, but nothing more. He then asked if we still hear the Knox, the knox of the little Boy, And right at that moment, it's when the whole house went dark. Jenna screamed and I felt as Alex ran around the table to get to Elsie. I took the phone out of my pocket and turned off the flashlight aimed away from us. When all three of them screamed, I asked what happened, what had they seen? But nobody spoke up. Elsie's trembling voice kept saying that we should go, that we should go upstairs. All three of them stood up in unison, and I followed behind them as we walked up to the second floor. I was the last one in line, the flashlight aimed directly at my feet, afraid of shining it behind me as we climbed, almost pushing each other to get there first. We finally made it into Elsie's room. Alex and Jenna sat on the bed, Elsie on her chair, and I stood behind Elsie. With zero words coming out of any of her mouths. Those thirty seconds or so felt like an eternity. I pointed at half bitten cookie Alex had brought with him and smiled. Elsie smile too. Alex and Jenna looked down at the cookie and then back at each other, confused and probably relieved to be upstairs, safe in a room, and not alone. If you want to support the show and get add free episodes at the same time, please check out scaryplus dot com or try it for free on Apple Podcasts. Let me know what you thought of this story, and then share any theories or fan arts over to me at Hello at scarystory dot com or on social media. You can find my information at Edwin FM by entering it into your browser, and in case you're on Instagram, Twitter, or Facebook, you can find my links there. Up next, be sure to check out True Scary Story, where people share their own terrifying experiences firsthand. Thank you very much for listening, See you soon.