“Open the door for me!”
I don’t know who you are or what your name is, but listen to me - if you ever hear someone in your yard rushing into the porch - it doesn’t matter whether you or your neighbor - and yells in a rude, manly voice: “The door is me open it! ” - Know that you have to pack and run. Run to the other end of the city, or maybe to another city, even to another country and pray, pray to anyone you want - Christ, Buddha, Cthulhu - so that it does not bother you.
Better yet, get yourself an animal - a cat, a dog, a fish, and even a Brazilian tarantula! The main thing is that there should be some kind of animal in your house - it will be able to warn you of its approach. I myself had an aquarium with a goldfish and a collie named Jackson, but I did not manage to understand in time what their strange death meant.
At first, Jackson began to behave strangely - he could not sit still, kept asking for a walk, and on the street he wanted to break out and run away. The fish died as soon as the dog began to go crazy. I did not see anything sinister in this - well, the fish died and died. Let's send her a corpse to comprehend the secrets of the city sewer - and this is the end. And the dog is probably just a playful mood, which will pass in a couple of days.
But not a couple of days, not a week later, Jackson did not calm down, but only became more noisy. He constantly whined, especially at night, wanted to run away from the apartment and generally as far as possible from our yard. While walking, I began to notice that the same thing was happening with the dogs of some of my neighbors. And there was another oddity - despite the summer period, the birds disappeared from the yard. There was no sparrow chirping, no crowing crows, nor that idiotic sound that pigeons make. The end of all this animal madness was one interesting procession that happened in my yard. I opened the door to the porch - and thank God that I did not go there right away, because a whole system of rats ran out of there. There were probably about a hundred of them - hundreds of dark brown shaggy little bodies, with vile bald ponytails, emitting nasty food.
Jackson went crazy for about a week, after which a hundred and eighty degrees turn occurred in his behavior - restlessness gave way to apathy, and my doggie spent all day on his couch. He almost stopped eating, and I already decided to take him to the veterinarian the next weekend, but when I returned home one day after a working day, I found the dog dead.
The unfortunate Jackson lived with me for five years, and I was terribly saddened by his death. I realized that it was due to some kind of illness — that’s why he behaved so strangely — and felt guilty about it.
All animals that could have left our yard, and those that could not have chosen to die. It might have seemed that some evil was approaching us all, and the animals felt it. But man is a dumb animal, and none of the people in our yard felt an approaching thunderstorm, and yet she was ready to burst.
Its beginning was on a warm June Friday. It was about twelve, and I just went to bed, before I had time to fall asleep, when suddenly a wild roar came from the street and shouted: "Open the door for me!" Apparently, they didn’t open it, and the knock was repeated again. Then another cry rang out: “I will open it!” - Then a long rude obscenity followed. Two rude men quarreled - so what? So I thought, falling asleep and hoping that the cries of their brawl would not interfere with my sleep.
In the morning, going to the store for bread, I saw an ambulance standing in the yard. Thinking that someone became ill, I went on. Later, however, I found out that nobody was feeling bad - they just found a corpse at the entrance. The victim was Valentin Petrovich, a man of forty years old, who lived in a nearby entrance. As it turned out, he was about to “open the door” the previous night, which is why he left the house. His wife went to the country on Thursday, so there was no one to worry about the fact that he had not returned for so long. No traces of the fight were found, and Valentin Petrovich died of a heart attack. No witnesses were found - our yard is large enough, and in the absence of normal benches and an unbroken playground, on Friday evenings, few gather in our yard to drink beer.
Two days later at night I woke up from the roar and the same cry: "Open the door for me!" “Well, yes, again, someone forgot the keys, what kind of mysticism is it?” I reassured myself, trying to sleep. In the predawn hours I woke up from a thirst that tormented me and went into the kitchen with a glass of water. Thanks to open windows and life on the ground floor, I heard almost everything that was happening on the street at that time. The noise caught my attention and, opening the curtains a bit, I looked out into the street. There I saw that a police car was standing at a nearby entrance, and law enforcement officers were interviewing people in bathrobes and slippers. I quickly realized that these were the inhabitants of the first floor, who for some reason ran out into the street from their apartments. After talking the next day with a neighbor, I found out that a hack was made in a nearby entrance on the ground floor. At night, the neighbors were awakened by a terrible roar and thrown out onto the landing by the whole crowd. The door to one of the apartments was broken. The jamb has long been in need of repair, and the door has to be replaced, so this was not a great obstacle to the robbers.
One brave man decided to go inside, but in terror ran out with a wild cry, and after him all the neighbors ran out of the entrance. Until the police arrived, people were afraid to go into the entrance, and that poor man who decided to go into that apartment sat silently aside. Not even the cops could talk to him. They did not find anything in that apartment - neither blood, nor corpses, nor the owners themselves. Those disappeared somewhere, although all the neighbors claimed that the young family that lived in this apartment did not leave anywhere. "Mystic!" - I thought, and I did not take this story with due seriousness, although somewhere in me there was already concern.
Three days after that, I was woken up again at night, this time with a call to the intercom. Cursing the whole world, I trudged to the receiver.
- Yes? I said in a sleepy voice.
“Sorry to wake you up,” a low male voice began, “but I lost the key to the intercom, please ...”
I did not listen to him and hung up. You never know which drug addict wanted to get into our porch in order to expand or rob someone. But the call immediately repeated, and I had to turn off the sound in order to get enough sleep.
As soon as I returned to bed, when suddenly I heard a cry from the street: "Open the door for me!". Now this creepy visitor was breaking into my porch. I immediately compared the facts and realized how this night could end for me if I let him go, and the first wave of fear swept down my spine. I tried to reassure myself that my front door was too strong to break it down, so even if someone would have let this crazy man go, he couldn’t do anything to me.
The scream repeated again and again, accompanied by a loud knock on the porch door. At first I did not understand why no one had come out to drive this man away, but then I remembered Valentina Petrovich who had risked leaving and realized that the memory of this incident holds people.
About ten minutes I lay on my bed, hiding with my head, dreaming that this maniac would leave. Suddenly I admitted a strange and frightening thought that now it’s not a man who is breaking into the porch — how else can one explain the strange death of Valentin Petrovich and the disappearance of that family? Yes, and one person would not have the strength to break the door, even if flimsy.
And suddenly, something that so eagerly rushed into the staircase knocked on my window and spoke to me. It was unimaginably scary - as if some superintelligent monster had quietly entered your apartment.
- Hey, you! I heard the male bass. “I know that you are lying there, wrapped in a blanket, hoping that I will not get you.” Ha! You are mistaken - I will come tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow, and so on, until I get into the staircase. If I don’t get that way, then I will find another way. So let me go, don't make life difficult for both of us.
I tried to plug my ears so as not to hear this voice. There was something inexpressibly terrible that he addressed me.
That night I never fell asleep again. For a while this creature was still breaking into the porch, but then left. In the morning, I immediately packed up my things and moved to my parents. I spent three good nights with them, and then again I heard this monstrous scream.
Over the past month I have changed several places of residence - I lived with friends and relatives and did not stay anywhere for more than a week. No one could understand this running around the apartments. They told me that there was nothing special in the fact that some drunkard was pounding on the door, demanding that they let him go, but I somehow knew what was going on!
Recently, my pursuer changed the method. He no longer broke through the door at night, but acted more gracefully. Letters began to come to me - both by regular mail, and by e-mail, where I was invited to attend various events. Yes, of course - could someone in their right mind invite me to open a book salon on the site of an abandoned factory or to an auto exhibition in a country forest? .. I quickly realized that Mohammed decided to wait for the mountain to come to him. Well, so be it. Maybe soon he will change tactics again, and then I will have no choice but to go directly to his paws.
I don’t know what it is and why he needs me. I think there is something like a harvest. Apparently, this creature needs certain people, for the sake of which it will not stop at nothing.
Now, having read my story, I hope you will know what to do when all living creatures disappear from your yard and at night you will hear a scream demanding to open the door.
