At exactly 3:17 every morning, Daniel heard three knocks on his bedroom door.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
The first night, he thought it was the wind.
The second night, he blamed the old wooden house.
By the third night, he realized something was wrong.
The house was completely silent.
Daniel lived alone.
There was no one else inside.
He slowly opened his eyes and stared at the bedroom door. A thin line of darkness surrounded its frame. Moonlight slipped through the curtains, painting the room in pale blue shadows.
Then it happened again.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Daniel sat up.
"Who's there?"
Silence.
He waited.
Nothing.
He reached for his phone, but the screen wouldn't turn on. The battery had been at eighty percent before he went to sleep.
Then the knocking came again.
This time, it sounded different.
It was coming from the other side of the door.
But there was something strange about it.
The knocks sounded exactly like the way Daniel himself knocked.
Three short knocks.
He got out of bed.
His hand trembled as he reached for the door handle.
Before touching it, he heard a voice.
"Daniel..."
He froze.
The voice sounded exactly like his own.
"Daniel, open the door."
He stepped backward.
"No."
The voice became louder.
"Daniel... I'm outside."
Daniel stared at the door in horror.
If that was his voice outside...
Then who was standing inside the room?
He slowly turned around.
Nothing.
Only his bed.
His closet.
And the dark window.
He looked back at the door.
The handle began to move.
Slowly.
Down.
Then up.
Down.
Then up.
Someone was trying to open it from the other side.
Daniel grabbed the nearest object he could find—a heavy lamp—and held it tightly.
"Go away!"
The knocking stopped.
For several seconds, there was complete silence.
Then a whisper came through the door.
"You shouldn't have answered."
Daniel's blood ran cold.
He hadn't answered.
At least...
He didn't think he had.
Suddenly, his phone turned on.
The screen showed one new recording.
A voice recording.
Recorded at 3:17 AM.
Daniel pressed play.
At first, there was only static.
Then he heard three knocks.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
After that came his own voice.
"Who's there?"
Daniel stopped breathing.
He remembered saying those words earlier.
But the recording continued.
A few seconds later, another voice whispered:
"I'm Daniel."
The bedroom door slowly opened.
Daniel stood completely still.
The hallway outside was empty.
But at the end of it stood a tall, dark figure.
It looked exactly like him.
Same face.
Same clothes.
Same terrified eyes.
The figure smiled.
Then it raised one hand.
And knocked on the bedroom door from the hallway.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Daniel looked down at his own hands.
They were shaking.
The figure smiled wider.
"You finally opened the door."
The lights went out.
The next morning, Daniel's house was empty.
The police found no sign of him.
Only his phone was lying on the bedroom floor.
There was one final recording on it.
It was only three seconds long.
Three knocks.
Then Daniel's voice whispered:
"Please don't open the door."
A pause.
Then another voice answered:
"Too late."
And from that night on...
The new owners of the house began hearing three knocks at exactly 3:17 every morning.
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