I started walking faster; the rain was pouring harder now, and I had a feeling it would only get worse. On my way home, there were usually two cute stray cats waiting for me to feed them. But since it was raining, I guessed they'd found some shelter somewhere.
Those were the thoughts running endlessly through my mind as I fumbled with the lock of my dormitory door. The building was eerily silent — tomorrow was a holiday, so no one else was around. I took out my spare key and went straight to the refrigerator, hoping to find something to eat… but it was completely empty.
As usual, my bad luck was the only thing that seemed loyal to me — clinging on, no matter how hard I tried to shake it off. After drinking some water, I sat down in my favorite spot on the floor tiles and turned on the TV.
It had been raining nonstop these days — so much that a red alert had already been issued. I had only gone to the library earlier to collect materials for my thesis work, and now I was starting to regret that decision.
Then—
**KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!!!**
Someone was at the door. But that couldn't be right. Everyone on this floor had already left for the holidays. I tried to open the door while asking, "Who's there?"
**KNOCK!! KNOCK!!!!! KNOCK!!!!!!!!**
No answer. Only the heavy pounding that echoed through the room, each strike threatening to break the door down. My heartbeat quickened as I turned the knob.
It was the dormitory watchman. He stood there in the dim light, rainwater dripping from his shoulders.
"Is everything alright?" he asked in a calm but strange tone.
Before he spoke, I had thought everything was alright. But hearing that question… something in it felt wrong — *eerie.* Fear is contagious; I forced a smile and told him everything was fine.
I shut the door quickly and locked it again.
Then — lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating my room for a split second. And that's when the thought struck me like the lightning itself:
The watchman… had died one week ago.
**[Silence…]**
The power went out. Darkness swallowed the room whole. My hands trembled as I dug out the god photos I never really believed in — the ones I kept only for my mother's sake.
"Oh my god… is this real? Am I hallucinating?" I whispered to myself.
Trying to calm myself, I decided to go to bed while clutching the photos tightly. I played some devotional songs on my phone — but the battery was only at 2 percent. I told myself not to think about anything ridiculous and just sleep.
But the more I tried not to think, the worse it got.
Around midnight, I finally drifted off — only to be jolted awake by another round of furious knocking.
**KNOCK!! KNOCK!!! KNOCK!!!!!**
The sound tore through the silence, and my drowsiness vanished instantly. *What the heck!*
My mind started racing: Had I ever done anything wrong? A robbery? An assault? A… murder? Then I realized how absurd that line of thought was — and how strangely dangerous my imagination had become.
I shouted again, asking who it was. No answer — just the same relentless knocking.
With the god pictures still clutched tightly in my shaking hand, I slowly reached for the door handle. I thought of every possible person it could be — a friend, a neighbor, a prankster…
Everyone.
Except—
**POLICE.**