Natalya stood from the cushion, the soft fabric rustling beneath her as she moved. Suddenly she felt the craving to drink something warm so she made her way to the kitchen.

She reached for the kettle, intending to make herself a cup of coffee, when her phone rang, breaking the silence.

She froze for a moment, her eyes darting toward the device resting on the counter. The screen lit up with Christian's name.

Drying her slightly damp hands on a towel, she walked back and picked it up.

"Hey," she answered, her voice quiet but steady.

"Just checking in," Christian said, his tone casual, but edged with concern. "You okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine. I got everything for the night and was about to make some coffee. Still no rain though," she added, moving back toward the kitchen with the phone tucked against her shoulder.

"I figured. It looked like it was about to pour any second when I left. The wind picked up like crazy on the way back."

"Same here. The windows rattled," she said, filling the kettle and switching it on. "Felt like the storm was knocking to be let in."

There was a pause on the other end, then his voice softened. "You sure you don't want me to come back?"

Natalya hesitated, her hand resting on the edge of the counter. The warmth in his offer settled something inside her, even if she didn't say it out loud.

"No... I'm okay. Really. But... thank you for asking."

"Alright," he said, but she could still hear the hesitation in his voice. "At least keep the phone close. I'll stay up for a bit. Just in case."

"I will," she said with a small smile. "Promise."

As they hung up, the kettle began to hum, and she moved automatically grabbing a mug, spooning in the coffee, pouring the water. The mundane motions were oddly soothing.

She cradled the mug in her hands and made her way to the bookshelf. Her fingers brushed over a few titles before settling on The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson.

It wasn't exactly comforting, but something about the eerie quiet of the house and the slow unraveling of its characters felt... fitting.

She curled up in the corner of the couch, drawing her knees close and tucking the sweater tighter around her.

Outside, the wind whispered through the trees, bending branches and stirring dry leaves across the porch.

The clouds pressed low, heavy and bruised, but the rain still held back, like the storm was waiting for just the right moment to fall.

She turned the first page.

"No live organism can continue for long to exist sanely under conditions of absolute reality..."

A shiver traced down her spine, though the room wasn't cold.

And then—

A thunder crashed making Natalya jump.

A series of thunder crashed, illuminating the living room in sharp flashes. For a moment, everything stood still and Natalya, curled on the couch, book open in her lap, the mug of coffee cooling in her hands.

She blinked, heart racing.

The soft hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen reminded her that the power was still on.

The candle on the table hadn't been lit yet, and it didn't need to be. Not yet.

She shifted on the couch, her sweater tucked around her knees, gaze flicking toward the window just as the first raindrops began to fall.

Soft at first, like a whisper.

Then the storm let loose all at once.

Rain pounded the roof in a steady, relentless rhythm, a thousand tiny fists hammering down from the sky.

It streaked down the windows in twisting rivulets, blurring the trees into swaying silhouettes. Wind howled through the cracks, slipping under the eaves, and sent dry leaves skittering across the porch in a sound like brittle whispers.

Natalya flinched at the sharp scrape of something. Maybe a branch dragging across the wooden boards.

She brought the mug to her lips, the ceramic warm against her hands, and took a slow sip. The coffee had cooled slightly, but she didn't mind. Her eyes remained fixed on the window, watching the way the storm curled around the cabin, like it was trying to get in.

She held her breath without realizing it.

The world beyond the glass was awash in gray and shadow, fractured by bursts of lightning that came and went like flickering memories.

Finally, she turned back to her book, the weight of it comforting in her hands. She thumbed to the page where she'd left off and began to read aloud under her breath, as if to make the room feel less empty.

"It is a house without kindness, never meant to be lived in... not by anyone sane."

A cold shiver wrapped around her spine, tightening like a grip. She pulled the sweater closer, nestling deeper into the corner of the couch.

Then—

Knock.

A single, heavy knock at the door. Not frantic. Not urgent. Just... deliberate.

Natalya's eyes snapped up from the page.

Knock.

Knock.

The sound echoed through the room like footsteps in a hallway, hollow and dragging. It didn't come with lightning, or thunder, or any sign that someone should be standing out there.

Just rain. And that knock.

Natalya's heart skipped a beat, the knock still echoing in the stillness of the room. 

The sound had no rhythm, no urgency. Just a deep, deliberate pound that settled into the air like an unwelcome visitor. She didn't move immediately, her senses heightened, and her mind racing through possibilities.

Then, another knock. Louder this time. A jagged pulse that made the walls tremble.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Her pulse quickened, breath catching in her throat. She rose slowly from the couch, the book forgotten in her lap, her coffee growing cold in her hands. The soft light of the room flickered, the storm outside intensifying, but the knock continued with an unsettling persistence. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise.

And then—

A voice.

"Hello? Is someone here?"

It was soft, tentative, but something in the tone made her stomach twist. The words hung in the air, unnatural, like an invitation to an unknown dread. Natalya stood frozen, her gaze locked on the door as if willing it to remain still, to give no answer.

Who could it be? And what are they doing outside my cabin?

She hadn't been expecting anyone. Christian was miles away. Her heart pounded in her chest as she slowly moved toward the door, every step a battle with the rising sense of unease that clawed at her. She peeked through the peephole.

Nothing.

Not a single figure stood outside, just the whirling rain and gusts of wind.

She hesitated, her hand gripping the door handle, and then another knock, louder than the last. A sharp rapping that shattered the silence, echoing through the empty house.

"Hello? Is someone here? I need help" the voice repeated, this time more insistent, almost frantic.

Natalya's breath hitched. What the hell was going on? She had no idea who it could be, or how they could have arrived here.

Her mind raced. What if it was someone trying to deceive her, or worse, someone who knew something she didn't?

Her grip on the doorknob tightened, the cold metal pressing against her palm.

She wasn't sure she was ready to open that door.

She gripped her phone tightly and opened it up trying to call Christian but the call wasn't going through.

Panic clawed at her throat as she stared at the blank screen of her phone. No signal. The storm must have messed with the cell towers and she was utterly alone.

Her fingers trembled, hovering over the phone. The voice outside had sounded so... desperate. But how could someone be out there in this storm? The wind was howling, the rain pelting everything in sight, and yet, there they were, knocking as if it were a regular visit.

Natalya took a shaky breath and tried to steady herself. She glanced back toward the door. The rational part of her mind screamed to lock the door, stay inside, and wait for the storm to pass. But the other part, the part that still heard the echo of that frantic plea felt something else stir. Something darker.

The knock came again, sharper this time, as if the person knew she was inside, knew she was listening.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Hello? Please, I need help! I'm not... I'm not here to hurt you."

Natalya's stomach twisted painfully.

Her pulse was a steady drumbeat in her ears, her mind caught between two choices. She could open the door and risk whatever it was that lurked outside. Or she could stay hidden, pretend she wasn't home, and hope whatever it was would just go away.

Another flash of lightning illuminated the room, casting long shadows across the walls, and for a brief moment, she thought she saw something.. someone moving just outside the window.

Her breath caught. She turned slowly, her heart pounding louder than the storm outside.

It couldn't be... no, it was just the wind playing tricks on her.

But the voice outside persisted, now frantic. "Please, can you please help me? My car broke down a few yards away and I have no way to get back to town."

Something in the urgency of that plea made her blood run cold.

She glanced at the window once more, half-expecting to see a face staring back at her from the glass.

Her hand wavered over the door handle. She was torn between fear and instinct. The instinct to help, the need to protect herself. Her mind screamed at her to do something, but every ounce of her body screamed not to open the door.

She took a shaky breath, her chest tight with tension. Slowly, hesitantly, she turned the handle.

The door creaked open.

And the storm howled louder than before.

Word count- 1585