Papa closed the door to enter my room.

I’ve been having trouble sleeping for a few nights now. There seems to be something strange about Papa’s behavior these past few days. When I sit in the living room, I feel his gaze that seems strange.

I don’t want to think bad things, I don’t want malice. He’s my father, he’s the one who raised me. But I also can’t hide the nervousness in my chest every time I catch him staring, then suddenly looking away as if nothing happened.

So that night, I was surprised when I heard three heavy knocks on my bedroom door.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Son… open it, Papa.” I was cold. It was two in the morning. Why was he here?
“Son, just a moment… open it for me.”

I stood up from the bed, my knees shaking. I was thinking a lot—maybe what I was afraid of was true. Maybe tonight… I don’t know if I’ll be scared or if I’ll just cry.

I approached the door, and before I could even touch the lock, I heard him speak again. But the tone was different. Lower. Sharper. Like Papa but like a hundi. “Open it, son. Don’t keep me waiting.”

My hair stood up. It wasn’t Papa’s voice. It was like there was someone else behind the door. I quickly backed away, holding my breath. I sat on the edge of the bed and grabbed the blanket. I didn’t know what to do—should I hide? Should I scream?

Suddenly I heard a soft voice from the corner of the room. “Son… don’t make a sound.”

I turned around. I saw Papa, standing but slowly sitting down as he approached so that his movements wouldn’t make any noise. He also looked very scared. “I heard him too,” he whispered. “Don’t open the door.”

My tears fell from the sheer fear and confusion in my mind. So… for a few days now, someone else has been pretending to be my father. And Papa—my real Papa—is also very scared, just like me.

Outside the door, not satisfied with the knock, he has kicked the door open. 

The Loud Scream of the Door

BANG!
Dust flew from the door as whoever was outside kicked it again. The lock almost broke with the force of each kick.

“Open it, please…” came the hoarse, long voice, as if two people were speaking at once. One was Papa’s tone, the other was low and seemed to come from underground.

I screamed, but my real Papa quickly covered me with his hand. “Shhh! Don’t look at the door, son. Don’t come any closer. No matter what happens, don’t.”

My chest was pounding. I could feel the cold air swirling around the room, and the light bulb on the ceiling was flickering as if there was an evil presence.

The Secret He Has Been Hiding for a Long Time

Papa turned to me, his lips trembling. “I’ve known this for a long time. Ever since you were a child, that… thing has been following us. It imitates my voice, my appearance. So sometimes, when I stare at you for a long time… I’m not sure if you’re still my son, or if he’s already my son.”

I felt cold. Suddenly, the surroundings became heavy.

BANG! CRACK!
The door is cracked.

“Son, listen,” said Papa, holding my hand tightly. “When the door breaks, we will run out the window. Don’t go near him even if you see my face. I will run to the right, he to the left. Follow the real me.”

The Entry of the Creature

One last kick— BLAG! —and the door finally opened.

And there I saw… Papa.
And another Papa next to me.

Same face. Same clothes. Same voice.

“Son, come on!” they shouted at the same time.

My blanket fell off, and I could barely breathe from fear.

The Choice

I knew I didn’t have time. I saw one’s eyes—red, as if they were glowing in the dark. While the other, tears streaming down her face, her hands shaking.

I quickly grabbed hold of my real Papa and we jumped out the window together.

As we fell onto the cold grass outside, I heard a deafening scream from inside the room—a scream that was no longer a human voice, but rather like the laughter of a demon who had been humiliated.

Epilogue

That night passed like a nightmare that I never wanted to go back to. We moved house, left all our belongings behind, and never opened the old room again.

Sometimes, whenever the night is quiet, I still hear three heavy knocks in my mind.

Knock. Knock. Knock.
“He was my brother…” whispered the memory.

And with each night, I cherished every hug from my real Papa even more—because I had experienced how terrifying it was to be unsure of who was on the other side of the door.

Ending  : The story leaves an ambiguous gap – that creature is not yet completely gone, only waiting for another chance.