There Came a Knocking - LetterPile - Writing and Literature
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There Came a Knocking

creepy

there-came-a-knocking

story

I came into the living room carrying a bowl of popcorn. I sat it on the coffee table next to the Halloween candy. I found a note on the coffee table and opened it.

“Do you like bunnies?” That’s what the note read. Crumbling it up, I laughed it off and tossed it behind the sofa. I figured my Mom or Dad had left it for me before heading to the Halloween party at Max Kirkwood’s house. That was my mom’s boss. It was a Halloween tradition, my parents attending the Kirkwood party. Last year Mom and Dad almost got into a big fight with her boss. He had been insulting my dad for most of the evening.

I picked up the remote from the sofa right next to me and turned on the television. On came a campy zombie film. The front doorbell rang, I grabbed the candy and answered the door. A small child in a bunny costume stood there looking up at me.

“Aren’t you adorable!” I dropped some candy into the bucket; the bunny turned and walked off. Then I returned to my spot on the sofa. The movie continued to play as groans, screams, and squeals emanated from the television. I grabbed a handful of popcorn and proceeded to eat some of it. The doorbell rang again. Next, the doorbell rang again. I grabbed the bowl of candy and answered the door once more. A most horrible sight greeted my eyes. The decapitated head of the bunny suit-wearing trick or treater from earlier sat on the front porch. The intestines were ripped out spilling onto the front porch.

I screamed as a crazed man leaped on top of me. He wore a bunny mask and all-black clothing. I continued to scream as I felt a sharp pain in my abdomen. The candy was strewn about the floor and I had been stabbed. Afterward, he walked over to the phone and called the police.

“Alice is down,” my attacker said. Then I fainted.

Later I awoke in a hospital bed with my parents hovering over me.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” Dad asked.

“Fine, I guess. Did they arrest the guy who attacked me?” I asked.

“Yes,” Mom said. He told police he was the White Rabbit.” She stroked my hair and kissed my cheek. Dad squeezed my hand.

“Love you pumpkin.”