Let Me In!

The cold January air prickled Suresh’s skin as he rode through the desolate streets of Gachibowli. The lane to his shared apartment felt unusually empty; the silence was only broken by a faint hum of distant streetlights. His gaze lifted to the third-floor windows of their flat. The usual warmth was absent; the lights were out, and the silence around it felt... wrong.

He reached for his phone and redialed Arun’s number. No answer.

Suresh had returned from his Christmas vacation a night earlier since he had an early morning shift. Although the rest of his roommates also left for their hometowns, Arun was the only one who stayed back, preparing for government exams, still trying to get a job. For the past couple of days, Suresh has been trying to call and text Arun to inform him that he is returning early, but all his attempts have failed.

Frowning, Suresh climbed the stairs, his footsteps echoing in the narrow stairwell. The place seemed even quieter than usual, the air thick with an unsettling stillness. He knocked sharply on the door, his knuckles rattling against the wood. No response.

Something felt off. He knocked again, louder this time, still nothing…just silence. That gnawing sensation deep in his gut grew.

“Arun?” he muttered under his breath, his heart quickening. Scanning the surroundings, he could see that the shoe rack near the door was overturned, its contents scattered across the floor in an odd, careless mess.

A chill prickled down his spine. He couldn’t help but think, “Maybe Arun had just... lost track of time?” 

Suresh could hear the faint hum of something deep in his chest, as though the apartment was holding its breath. He reached for the spare key in the shoe stand. His fingers trembled as he found it. The minute he unlocked the house, the door creaked open, and immediately, a wave of putrid air hit him, thick and rancid. His stomach churned as the smell of something decaying reached his nose.

He stepped inside, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the dim light. It was wrong. The house, usually filled with the sounds of the others… Sameer, Karthik, Vikram… felt abandoned, as though time had stopped. Suresh turned toward the kitchen, the smell leading him to the corner where the garbage bag sat, forgotten. Its contents were dark and swollen, maggots crawling in slow clusters over the refuse.

Suresh recoiled, his hand going to his mouth. “Goddammit, Arun, you’ve really let this place go,” he muttered, but his words felt hollow. Arun was meticulous…this was unlike him.

He shook his head, his thoughts sluggish from the long day. “I’ll clean it up in the morning.”

Still, something lingered in the air…thicker than before, like the house was holding its breath. Suresh shuffled back toward his bedroom, trying to shake the unsettling feeling that had followed him inside. He locked the door behind him, collapsing into bed, trying to convince himself it was just exhaustion. The air in the room felt heavier than usual, but his eyelids fluttered shut.

---

At 3:33 AM, Suresh woke with a jolt. His throat felt dry, and the room was suffocating. The familiar hum of the apartment seemed distant now, muffled, as though the darkness had swallowed the world outside. He reached for his water bottle, but it was empty.

Reluctantly, he climbed out of bed, and the chill of the floor bit his bare feet. The hallway was darker than it should have been, the moonlight gone, as though something had blocked the windows. He tried the light switch, but it didn’t work. A low, wet drip-drip-drip echoed from somewhere deep inside the apartment.

The tap? He thought, but when he reached the kitchen, the faucet was dry. The sound continued…faint, but persistent. Suresh’s breath caught in his throat. It wasn’t the sink. It was coming from deeper within the house.

Suddenly, something moved in the corner of his vision…a rustling, like fabric shifting. Suresh froze. His heart hammered in his chest as he turned slowly toward his bedroom.

A shadow separated itself from the darkness in the far corner, stretching unnaturally tall. Two gleaming, wide eyes pierced the shadows. The figure grinned…its mouth stretched impossibly wide, sharp teeth gleaming like fractured glass.

Suresh’s blood ran cold. The creature’s movements were unnatural, jerky, its body twisting in ways that defied reason. Its neck snapped unnaturally, craning toward him as it took a step forward, dragging its limbs at strange angles. The sound of bones cracking echoed in the thick air.

His breath caught, his vision narrowing. Panic surged, but his body froze. There was no escape. He didn’t think; he bolted, his chest heaving as he sprinted to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him and twisting the lock. His mind raced, scrambling to make sense of what he had just seen. But it didn’t make sense. The shadowy figure…it was real. The knock came then. Soft at first.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Suresh,” a voice called from outside. Arun’s voice.

But it wasn’t quite right.

Illustrated by Nikhila Kotni

“Suresh, don’t you always say I rarely speak to you? I’ve come now. Let’s talk. Come on!”

The voice was wrong. It didn’t sound like Arun. The words felt forced, twisted. Suresh’s blood ran cold. The knocking grew louder, faster, a frantic rhythm that shook the door violently.

“Suresh! Let me in!” The voice was no longer Arun’s. It had splintered into a dozen overlapping voices, each one more insistent than the last.

Panic clawed at Suresh’s chest as he scrambled for his phone. His hands trembled as he dialled his roommates, one after another. Every call went to voicemail. Desperation rose as he dialled again. And again. The same robotic message each time: “The number you have dialled is out of coverage area.”

Desperation clawed at his chest. He dialled again. And again. The same result, as though the universe itself had conspired to isolate him.  

For over an hour, the knocking continued. The sound reverberated through the room, so relentless it seemed to vibrate in his skull.

Clutching his phone tightly, he muttered prayers under his breath, hands shaking as he dialled one last number…not his friends this time.

He exhaled a shaky breath. “Someone’s knocking on my door! They won’t stop! Please, help!”

“Who is knocking?” the officer asked calmly.

Suresh choked on his breath. How could he explain? What had he seen? He couldn’t say it…couldn’t describe it. How could anyone believe him?

“Is it a thief?” the officer pressed.

“A thief,” Suresh gasped, his mind reeling. “Yes, please, hurry!”

The officer confirmed the address and promised help. As soon as he hung up, the voice returned.

“A thief?” it whimpered, a twisted mockery of concern. “I’m a thief?”

Then the voice shifted, turning violent. “HOW DARE YOU CALL ME A THIEF! OPEN THE DOOR!”

The knocking resumed, more frantic than ever, a violent battering that felt as if the entire doorframe would collapse under the weight. Suresh pressed his back against the door, his body trembling with terror. He could hear the creature outside, its voice growing distorted, a low growl building beneath the words.

“LET ME IN! OPEN THE DOOR!”

The air in the room grew oppressive as time stretched. Then, abruptly, it stopped.

The silence was suffocating.

Suresh stayed frozen, his ears straining for any sign of movement. For a moment, he thought he heard faint, distant footsteps, fading away.

“Hello?” a voice called from outside his room. “We got a call. It’s the police. Open the door.”

Relief washed over Suresh, but he hesitated. A warning bell rang in his mind. Something was wrong.

He reached for the door handle, his hand shaking. Just as his fingers touched the lock, the voice returned—louder now, clearer.

“YES! OPEN THE DOOR! LET ME IN!”

It wasn’t the police. It never was.

The banging continued, relentless and deafening, until Suresh heard a loud thud!  

He jolted upright on the bed, his heart hammering against his ribs. For a terrifying moment, he thought it was his room door, finally giving way to the relentless assault. But as he stared at it, still intact, the realisation crept in—it wasn’t his door.  

And then, the light changed.  

The faint golden glow of the sun’s rays seeped through his window, illuminating his bedroom. The oppressive darkness lifted slightly, and for the first time in hours, Suresh could make out the outlines of his furniture.  

Footsteps echoed from outside his room, accompanied by voices.  

“Suresh? Are you inside?” a man called out. “There’s nobody out here. It’s safe. You can come outside. Suresh?”  

His body tensed. He knew better than to trust voices. They had tricked him before, mimicking familiarity, preying on his fear.  

“No! No! Leave me alone!” Suresh screamed, pressing his hands tightly over his ears, rocking back and forth on his bed. His hoarse voice filled the room, drowning out everything else.  

Suddenly, a loud bang! Pierced through the air. It was a gunshot.  

The door to his bedroom burst open, and two uniformed officers stormed in. Suresh’s tear-filled eyes widened as he saw the unmistakable insignia of the police. One of the officers rushed toward him, kneeling beside him.  

“You’re safe,” the officer said firmly, gripping Suresh’s shoulders. “You’re safe now. It’s over.”  

The words barely registered in Suresh’s frenzied mind. He looked at the officers in disbelief, his lips trembling. His hands slowly lowered from his ears as the sounds of reality crept back in…the faint chatter of other officers, the echo of boots on the floor, the rustling of papers in the distance.  

“Suddenly, another officer approached the one comforting Suresh. “Sir, you should see this,” he said grimly.  

The officer exchanged a wary glance with his colleague and stood. Suresh, his body still trembling, found himself compelled to follow. The fear of being alone in his bedroom outweighed his terror of what lay beyond.  

The living room was now bathed in sunlight, the golden beams streaming through the windows chasing away the sinister shadows that had dominated the night. Everything appeared normal again, as though the house was merely an ordinary apartment, a place devoid of the horrors Suresh had experienced.  

But that illusion shattered the moment they entered another bedroom. The officers froze. Suresh hesitated at the doorway, clutching the frame as if it could somehow anchor him.

“Suresh,” one officer asked, his voice low and almost reluctant, as though he was afraid of the answer. “How long have you been here?”

“Last..” Suresh mumbled, as if the sight had just taken his words away, “last night…” his words trailed off.

“And you mean to tell us that you haven’t noticed the body?” the officer probed.

“It was him… it doesn’t make sense… He kept banging the door for hours, demanding that I let him in. When did he… Why…”

Suresh’s voice was ragged, his mind struggling to piece things together. The officer’s gaze never wavered, but something flickered in his eyes… something that made Suresh’s skin crawl.

“This man had been dead for days. The condition of the flesh… It’s been rotting for a while. And the eyes...”

Suresh’s breath caught. He turned slowly toward the corpse, his legs unsteady. The eyes… Arun’s eyes… were wide open, fixed in that grotesque, unearthly grin.

The officer continued, his voice barely a whisper now, “And you claim he was knocking on your door?”

The walls of the room were smeared with dark streaks, and Suresh staggered backwards, his stomach lurching as bile rose in his throat. The officers moved closer to inspect the scene, their faces grim. One of them gestured for medical help, speaking into his radio with a steely calm.

Suresh’s eyes were fixed on Arun’s face. Despite the lifeless body hanging from the fan, he could swear the twisted grin had widened, just slightly.

And then, he heard it again.  

The faintest whisper, echoing from the darkest corner of the room, 

“Let me in.”

---

Credits

This contribution is written and illustrated by Nikhila Kotni, reviewed by Edlyn D’souza & edited by Sreekar Ayyagari.

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