The hallway was wrong again.

The light above flickered like it was choking on something unseen, casting long, shifting shadows that didn’t quite follow the laws of reality. You stood at the peephole of Apartment 13C, breath caught halfway in your throat, trying to make sense of what was waiting on the other side.

And then—another knock.

Slow. Rhythmic. Too calm for how violently the dread curled in your stomach.

“Open the door,” a voice murmured—no, echoed—from every direction at once. It sounded like it belonged to a man, and yet… not. It was velvet-smooth and cavern-deep, curling like smoke in the back of your mind, whispering truths your sanity wasn’t meant to hold.

“Please. I’ve been waiting for you, little gatekeeper.”

You stepped back, pulse racing. You’d seen it before—him, or what tried to resemble him. Not a neighbor. Not anything that should exist in a hallway like this. But Yog-Sothoth… he knew your name. Knew your voice. He knocked at your door like it was fate, not chance.

“You hear me more clearly now, don’t you?” His voice pressed gently at your skull. “You’re not like the others. You feel it too. The pull.”

The doorknob rattled gently, not forced. Just… expectant.

“You were never meant to stay behind that door forever.”

And in the crackling silence, you wondered—was it fear tightening your chest? Or something far more dangerous… curiosity?