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Lock Your Doors at Night

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My wife and I had a bad and stupid habit — we didn’t lock the entrance door with the key when we got home. Leaving for work in the morning, I discovered that we slept all night with our door unlocked.

We started pointing fingers, trying to figure out who was the last one to come home and who was a more careless one. One time the front door swung open at night from strong drafts and started clapping. We got pretty scared that time, but the habit still would not go away. But then something happened that forever taught us to lock all doors with keys. And hell, I'm seriously considering the idea of a real dead bolt...  

My home is my castle, and why do you need walls, if the gate is wide open? 

That night I could not fall asleep. Suddenly I decided to check the front door, and although I felt too lazy to get up, that desire was obsessive and unrelenting. I walked into the hallway, tried the door and... yes, it was not locked again! I turned the key four times, and for some reason also the second key, the lower one, which we never used. I made just two steps towards the room when I heard strange sounds behind the door. There was a feeling that someone was touching the door with their hands on the other side, feeling it as blind people do when they encounter an obstacle and try to understand what that is.  

Although startled, I still turned around with the intention to at least look through the peephole. I approached the door closely and noticed that the handle began turning up and down, as if someone was trying to open the door. Then there was a strange spasmodic knock. Suddenly I felt cold, my heart ached; I did not feel fear or horror but some black melancholy, muddy, incomprehensible anxiety crept into my soul. I didn’t feel like looking into the peephole anymore. Quietly I began moving towards the bedroom, my wife woke up and she was about to say something. I motioned to her to be silent, she knew immediately knew that something was wrong. Her eyes widened.  

I must say, I have one device that I almost never used. To be precise, it is a video camera that is looking at the porch and is connected to my computer. My brother gave it to me, who was at the time working in a company that was installing video surveillance.  

At the time, I looked at it, played with it a little, and forgot about it. Now I remembered it. I do not know what trait of human nature makes us look into the eyes of the evil. And so I sat down at the computer and launched the image of the porch.  

What was it? I don’t know, but I saw it and my wife saw it. It was something wrapped in some dark rags, unnaturally twisting and wobbling. It was walking around up front, scratching at the door, pulling on the handles, leaning and listening to the sounds in the apartments, looking into peepholes. The head of that something was also wrapped in rags, and from the rags its dark hands were sticking out; they were very narrow with unnaturally long—two, maybe two and a half times longer than normal—fingers. Something came up to my door several more times, and leaned against it for a long time. It seemed that my heart stopped, tears were streaming down my wife’s face and she bit the edge of the bed sheet trying to not make a sound. Confused and anxious, I was reading, "Our Father," to myself…  

Then that crawled down. Early June dawn was waking up the street. If we lived in a village, there would probably be roosters singing. An hour later, we came to our senses. 

I regret that my wife saw all of it, she is still getting over the shock, and I can see that she is still scared. Yesterday, she asked me to move houses. Well — it is possible, since we are renting anyway. Plus, I also don’t feel comfortable here anymore.  

But I'm thinking, what would happen if I did not lock the door? We would have been found with ripped out insides and blood on the walls. Or, as they show in horror movies we would be huddled up in a corner with our faces distorted by mortal terror. Or does this evil creep into your soul, and a person with glassy eyes goes to the kitchen for a knife ...? Or, takes a step out of the window? I do not know, and I do not want to know. 

Lock your doors. Take care of yourself. 

Written by an unknown author. 

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