The phone was dead now. Silent like the grave I'm already walking toward. The voice on the line vanished. I waited, frozen, holding the receiver as if it could still scream warnings. No. Nothing. Just a cold, empty silence that screamed louder than any knock.
The TV was off. The door still hung loose on its broken hinges, like the last thread holding my sanity together. I stared at it, breathing hard, heart thudding like a hammer in my chest. No footsteps, no shadows, just the cold, crushing weight of emptiness pressing in on me.
I felt the blood from my hand drip on the floor, slow and steady. Like the minutes bleeding away from my life. Where the hell was Patricia? Why was this nightmare only beginning? The walls seemed to close in, mocking me. The knocking. The silence. The fear.
I wanted to scream, but had no voice left. The room spun, and my legs almost gave out. I caught myself on the wall, trying to hold my shaking body upright. The air tasted metallic, like fear, like blood.
Then, a soft thump behind me. My heart stopped.
I whipped around, knife still in hand, eyes wild, searching the shadows. Nothing. Just the empty room, dark and waiting.
The silence was louder than before.
I dropped the knife and sank to the floor, hugging my knees. "What do you want from me?" I whispered to the empty air.
And somewhere deep inside, a small voice whispered back: "You're not alone."
The city never felt colder. The streets were empty, ghosts in the shadows watching, waiting. I held the phone tight, desperate, dialling Erika again, my fingers trembling.
No answer. Nothing. Just that goddamn silence.
I thought about Patricia, her laugh, her eyes. Gone. Dead? Or something worse? I wanted to believe she was out there, somewhere, calling me from the dark. But even that hope was slipping.
I knew Erika was my only lifeline. The cold, sharp blade of reason in this mess. But now she was gone too, silent like the rest of the world.
I stumbled through the streets, avoiding the few people awake. I didn't want to see anyone. Couldn't. Not now.
I found myself outside a grimy bar, the one where Erika sometimes worked undercover. I pushed the door open; the stale smell hit me. No sign of her. Just the bartender, eyes tired and empty.
"Seen Erika?" I asked, voice rough.
He shrugged. "Gone. Didn't say where."
I clenched my fists, rage bubbling beneath the surface. She was disappearing like the rest of them. Like I was losing everything, piece by piece.
And then the knock came again. Soft, deliberate.
From the back of the bar.
I froze.
Slowly, I moved toward the sound, heart pounding.
But when I reached the back door, nothing. Just the flicker of shadows and the echo of my own breath.
I wasn't losing my mind.
I was already lost.
She appeared like smoke in the night, black leather jacket, eyes like ice, and a smile that didn't reach her face.
"Aren't you the restless one?" she said, voice low, smooth.
I didn't answer. Didn't trust.
"Name's Ava," she said, stepping closer. "I know what you're running from."
I laughed bitterly. "Everyone's running from something."
"No. You're running from the knocking."
I froze. How did she know?
She leaned in, whispering: "It's not just a sound. It's a warning. A calling. And it's coming for you."
I wanted to punch her. To scream. To disappear.
But all I could do was stare.
Her eyes burned with something I couldn't place. Truth? Lies? Or worse.
"Stay away," I said. "Or you'll be next."
She smiled wider. "You don't get to tell me what to do. Not anymore."
And just like that, she vanished into the shadows, leaving me alone with the cold, the dark, and the knocking that wouldn't stop.
The screen flickered as Lyle Creed's face appeared, jittery and nervous, sweat beading on his forehead.
"Miles… you gotta listen. There's something in the signal. Something weird."
I leaned in, eyes narrowing.
"Tell me what."
He swallowed. "It's like… like a code hidden in the noise. When I filter it right, I swear I hear a voice."
"A voice?" My heart skipped.
"Yeah. A woman's. Soft, distant. Like a whisper calling out. You're not crazy."
I wanted to believe him.
But the more I stared, the more the shadows in my room seemed to twitch. The knocking started again, softer this time, like a heartbeat beneath the walls.
I looked at Lyle's face, pale and frantic.
"This isn't just about Patricia anymore. It's bigger. Darker."
And just like that, the pieces started moving.
The church doors creaked open as Reverend Cain Mercer stepped inside, his eyes gleaming with fire.
"This is no accident," he said, voice booming in the empty hall. "The knocking is a sign. A call from the divine. Those who hear it must prepare. Judgment is coming."
I stood in the back, watching. The cold air wrapped around me like a shroud.
He spoke of rebirth, of cleansing fire, of the end and the beginning.
But all I could think about was Patricia, Erika, Ava… and the knocking that haunted my every step.
The reverend's words echoed in my skull as I clenched my fists.
This was no salvation.
This was the beginning of my nightmare.
The phone broke the silence again. It was like it was alive, a monster breathing through the wires.
I snatched it up, hands shaking, hoping it was Erika, but no—just that same voice. Cold, distant, threatening.
"We're watching. You cannot hide forever."
I slammed the phone down, the receiver nearly bouncing off the wall. My chest was tight, like a vise crushing me from the inside.
Who was they? Bald Moss? The cult? Some government asshole?
I didn't know anymore. I just knew I was running out of time.
The knocking started again—this time, softer, more mocking, like it was right inside my skull.
I gripped the table, knuckles white, eyes wild.
I needed answers. I needed to find Erika. To find Ava. To find someone who still believed I wasn't already dead.
I traced Erika's steps through the city like a ghost stalking her shadow.
Each place she might have been was colder than the last. Bars, police stations, dark alleys.
No one had seen her.
The city was swallowing her whole.
But then I found a note. Scrawled on a crumpled receipt.
"Find me. Midnight. The docks."
My heart slammed like a drum.
Midnight. The docks.
I knew it was a trap. But I was ready to walk through fire to find her.