Sunday nights were Arjun's horror ritual. He had his playlist ready—classic haunted house movies, eerie soundtracks, and a perfectly chilled atmosphere.
He closed all the doors and windows, switched on the AC, and let the rose-scented air freshener fill the room. The dim lighting, the soft hum of the home theater system, and a warm bucket of popcorn with Pepsi in hand made everything feel just right.
Settling onto his large sofa, he plugged in his pendrive. The movie started—a thunderstorm raged outside a haunted house on screen. Lightning flashed, followed by eerie silence.
Then—knock, knock.
A chill ran down Arjun's spine. The sound was clear, distinct. He turned up the volume.
Knock, knock.
It wasn't just in the movie.
The sound was coming from his door.
He felt his heart pounding as he paused the movie. The knocking on his door also stopped. A shiver ran down his spine. It was midnight, and he was always alone in this apartment. The room was soundproof—no sound could escape or enter, except for the calling bell.
Slowly, he walked to the door and opened it.
There was no one. Only the cold moonlight illuminated his face as he stood in the hallway of his 13th-floor apartment.
Before he could turn back, the paused movie inside suddenly resumed playing. His breath caught in his throat. Trembling, he stepped back into the apartment. The door shut behind him and locked automatically, though he was too distracted to notice.
He rushed to the TV and grabbed the remote, pressing the pause button frantically. Nothing happened. The remote wasn't working. His pulse quickened. Desperate, he bent down to unplug the wires.
Just then, his phone vibrated in his pocket—an unknown number was calling.
The moment he pulled out the wires, the room was plunged into complete darkness. The only sound was the soft hum of his phone vibrating.
He swallowed hard and hesitantly answered the call.
A coarse, eerie voice whispered, "Knock, knock… Are you there? I'm coming for you."
Before he could react, the TV glitched violently. The same voice echoed from the screen—
"KNOCK, KNOCK… ARE YOU THERE? I'M HERE FOR YOU."
His eyes widened in horror as the screen distorted, pixels shifting into an unnatural blur.
Then, from the static, a hand emerged.
A faceless, glitching hand—as if the TV screen had become a portal. It stretched towards him, reaching, pulling reality apart.
Suddenly, Arjun felt a dampness near his stomach. He jolted awake, his breath ragged. The movie was still playing on the TV, and the Pepsi bottle lay beside him, its cap unsealed, the liquid seeping into his shirt.
He blinked, scanning the room. Everything was the same—the dim lighting, the scent of rose air freshener, the low hum of the air conditioner. It was just a dream. Just a dream.
He exhaled slowly, forcing his racing heart to settle. He didn't want to watch the movie anymore. Reaching for the remote, his fingers barely brushed against it when—
Knock. Knock.
The exact same knocking sound played in the movie.
And at the exact same time—
Knock. Knock.
It came from his front door.
His body froze. A shiver crawled up his spine.
Then—
Bzzzt. Bzzzt.
His phone vibrated violently against the coffee table. Unknown number.
His mind screamed at him to move, to do something, anything—but he remained frozen.
The knocking at the door grew louder.
And then—
The call connected on its own.
A coarse, eerie voice whispered,
"Knock, knock… Are you there? I'm here for you."