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She might have still been scared and uncertain, and sofucking hungry, but as she answered the door, Gwen smiled. The exchange was brief, quick enough as the delivery guy was carrying another set of groceries.She thanked him and brought her groceries inside to put away.
The interaction had been a blip in time, Gwen almost felt normal again.
Which was why she was so unprepared when the knocking started.
18
Discouraged
Gwen
Gwen was in the process of placing the bananas onto the kitchen counter when she first heard the knock.
At first, she thought it was the delivery driver. Perhaps he had forgotten another bag of groceries? No, Gwen had checked all the bags and nothing appeared to be missing. She even had her black hair dye sitting at the other end of the counter.
Gwen tilted her head toward the ceiling. The sound could have been her boring sex neighbors. Occasionally, she would hear them moving around their apartment while talking. One of them had a heavy footfall compared to the other.
When nothing came from that direction, Gwendolyn shuffled to the front door to check the peephole. An anxious thought crept to the surface as she neared. Couldit have been Sticky Fingers? Was he behind the door waiting to return her unwanted package?
Carefully, Gwen moved her face towards the peephole, breath shaky as she dared look. As she gazed into the small opening, all she could see was the empty hallway that led towards the elevator. Gwen pulled back, eyeing the door suspiciously.
Was this another weird demon thing? If it was, Gwendolyn wasn’t sure if it was part of the usual stuff, or if this was the result of her having surrendered the doll and scroll case to her neighbor. Gwen closed her eyes, focusing on listening to her surroundings for a moment. Maybe it had been a neighbor getting their own delivery, and the sound had traveled to her room. But Gwen didn’t hear the knock again, and brushed it off as just that.
To keep herself from overthinking, Gwen finished putting away her groceries and noticed the small pile of dirty dishes in her sink. She wouldn’t label herself a slob, but Gwen tended to let chores fall aside because she was too hyperfixated with creating her dolls. It was one of the reasons why she ate so many microwaved meals. Fewer dishes to clean meant fewer distractions.
Can’t ignore this anymore,Gwen thought as she eyed the pile of dirty dishes.
She tackled what dishes she could, loading them in the dishwasher, but left half of the dishes in the sink to soak. Gwen wasn’t sure why, but cleaning her apartment made her feel accomplished. It was something she could control, unlike her weird cravings and the newly acquired impulses she had become more aware of.
Might as well,Gwen thought as she stared at the dirty kitchen counter.
She scrubbed the counter clean, and when she noticed her table was just as dirty, she went ahead and wiped the table down as well. Naturally, she noticed the dust bunniesin the corners of her kitchen and figured she may as well clean that, too. Gwen was in the process of sweeping when she heard it again.
Gwendolyn paused.
It was the same sound—a knock in a rhythmic pattern that Gwen recognized. She couldn’t remember the name of it, only the repeating pattern that played out in her head. Gwen glanced around her apartment, but could not locate the obvious origin of the sound. When the knock happened again, Gwen froze as she counted them. One, then two, then three, four, and five. Five rhythmic knocks that seemed to end too soon.
Gwen took a deep breath as she gathered her nerves and slowly moved back toward the front door. She placed her hands on the door and lifted her head once again to look through the peephole. Before she could get a clear view, the knock came through again in one, then two, then three, four, and five. Confident, strong knocks that had grown louder.
No, not just louder, Gwen realized. It wasn’t coming from the front door, but from somewherebehind her. She could feel a small bead of sweat growing beneath her bangs, felt a jolt of adrenaline pulse through her.
Would the doll be there?
Or something … worse?
Slowly, Gwen turned around. She could not see anything, but Gwen had learned that seeing was not always what was important when it came to hauntings. The bathroom door was shut because Gwen hadn’t wanted to see the constant reminder of Ambrosius’ presence in her apartment. If she didn’t see the spiders, she wouldn’t have the urge to do something about them.
Come on, Gwen, don’t be a chickenshit,she thought.There isn’t anything worse behind this door that you haven’t already seen the past few days.
Gwen reached out a tentative, shaky hand towards the bathroom door. Her fingers were millimeters away from the doorknob when the knock came through again.
One.
Then two.
Then three.
Four.