A FRIGHTENING INTRODUCTION

It felt like it was going to be a good day. I had just gotten up and it was 7:30 in the morning. Outside the day was just beginning to get light. There was a street lamp close by so I didn’t feel like it was night, but not day, either. By looking at the street light, I could see that it was snowing.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door.

Shit. Who would knock on my door at this hour of the morning?

I went to the door and opened it. No one was there.

I felt a slight tingle of fear but actually, I was more curious. Who knocked on my door? Maybe someone is pulling some kind of stupid joke. Now that I was looking outside, I could see the snow falling better.

Wait! If there is snow on the ground...

I looked for footprints, to see where they went to, or came from, but...

...No footprints!

I began to wonder if I had really heard the knock. Yes, I was certain of it! I stepped out onto my front steps, even though it was cold, then looked all around the area. No sign of anyone anywhere. I turned around to go back inside the house, when I stopped. The door was closed.

I didn’t close the door!

Then who... , not only because the door was shut, but because I was outside of my apartment. I grabbed the doorknob, turned it, then opened the door and went inside. I turned on the light, then went back to the door and locked it. I had to gather my thoughts.

If there was no knock, then how did the front door close? Who closed it? I didn’t, I know that.

Fear shot through me. All I did was take a few steps outside, look around, then turn around. If there was a knock, then who? And the door...

A thought predominated all others: What if someone went inside when I was outside and shut the door from the inside? That means that someone is in this apartment with me. I laid back down on the couch after I turned off the light. Impossible. Nothing is in here with me. I would have heard the door shut, and nobody could have slipped by, but...

...who shut the door then? I laid still and concentrated on falling asleep, but it was hopeless. I kept freaking out.

What if someone is in here?

Minutes passed - maybe a half hour. I couldn’t sleep. I wanted to get up and turn the light back on., even though it wasn’t necessary.

Suddenly, I heard it.

A noise that I couldn’t quite comprehend at first, then it came to me. It was the sound of something crawling across the carpet towards me. It was something, small. Then there was the sound of something scratching on the leg of the coffee table next to the couch on which I laid.

I thought of sitting up and taking a look...

...and I did. I sat up suddenly and without warning., in hopes that I could catch a glimpse of whatever it was scratching at my coffee table, just in case it decided to disappear somehow. I saw nothing which could have made the sound, and the scratching noise stopped. I stayed sitting up, staring at the spot on the coffee table from where I thought the scratching was taking place. There was a small puddle of some kind of liquid on the floor, but it wasn’t light enough to see what it was. My frightened mind told me that it was blood, but it couldn’t be. I was scaring myself. I stood up and walked over to the light switch, then turned it on. When I walked back to the coffee table to look at the small puddle of liquid, I realized that I wasscaring myself. It was blood.

Or is it? It’s red and looks like blood, but is it? How did it get there in the first place?

I stared at the dark-red puddle, then three more knocks came on my door.

I might as well be truthful. I was scared. I was scared shitless. I didn’t move.

Three more knocks broke the silence.

What do I do?

"Who...who is it?" I asked in a shaky voice. No one answered. "Who is it!?" this time yelling in fear and anger. Again, no one answered. Instead, the doorknob turned, and the door opened slowly, creaking slightly as it did.

A man dressed in a pin-stripe suit and short hair walked into my apartment.

"Hello," he said, "My name is Satan. I understand that you want to sell your soul."

Then he smiled.

THE END

To Stories by Max contents