Tapping at the Window

As the fire in the fireplace died down to embers, the room grew dark. The faint glow of the charcoal cast shadows across the walls. All was motionless. Bjorge was slumped back in his chair, fast asleep, while Druknet was still passed out from the sleeping pills… or at least he should have been.

The room grew cold.

A light tapping noise rang in Druknet’s ears. His eyes shot open, despite the heavy fog of sleep still clinging to his mind.

It's probably just the wind. He thought, as he stared up at the ceiling.

The wind did howl outside. It was not unusual for gusts from the sea to sweep across the village.

There was a brief silence. Just as he was about to close his eyes again…

Tap.

The sound came again.

He slowly sat up, glancing around the dim room. Everything appeared to be exactly where it had been before. Bjorge was still slumped in his chair, snoring softly.

Maybe it was just a mouse. He tried to reason with himself.

The noise came again. This time faster.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The sound seemed deliberate, like someone knocking on glass.

Druknet hesitantly turned his head toward the window. From where he lay, he could see nothing, but the dark night sky.

The tapping stopped.

Carefully and quietly, he swung his legs out of bed. Pain throbbed through them as he stood.

His bare foot brushed against something on the floor. It was the pocket watch. He bent over and picked it up.

As he brought it up toward his face, he heard an unexpected ticking noise coming from within. The tiny gears inside the watch seemed to be moving.

Druknet stared at it curiously. He had assumed it was completely broken.

Before he could inspect it further…

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The knocking had returned.

He slipped the watch back into his pocket and slowly limped toward the window. Each step brought him discomfort as they pulsed with pain.

Outside the village was perfectly still. Not a single lantern burned nor was there a single villager about. The only thing he could see in the glass was his own reflection— a bandaged man with

disheveled hair and an unkempt beard, whose eyes were tired looking and had dark circles under them.

He placed hand against the glass, examining just how badly he looked. For a moment all was silent, until…

There was a heavy thump against the glass.

Druknet jumped back abruptly.

Pressed up against the other side of the window was a leathery and boney hand. Its gray skin clung to it as if it were on the verge of falling off, while its cracked blackened fingernails clawed down the window toward its base. Its fingers twitched as it pried at the bottom of the window frame.

Druknet stumbled backward in horror, biting his tongue to keep himself from screaming.

Behind the hand, a figure began to rise…

At first it was a shadow. Then two faint white lights in place of its eyes glowed through darkness. Leaning forward slowly, it revealed a pale corpse-like face. Seaweed clung to its long thin wiry hair and its broad shoulders. It opened its mouth, showing a row of rotting yellow teeth.

“Come back” It moaned without moving its lips. Rather the words echoed directly in Druknet’s mind.

Druknet fell backward onto the floor. Scrambling away, he dragged himself toward the fireplace and grabbed the iron poker beside it.

“Get away!” He shouted.

The window creaked, as the draugen pressed harder against it.

“Come Back!”

“Stay back!” Druknet cried.

The entity leaned closer, its glowing eyes fixed on Druknet through the glass.

Druknet’s fear reached its limit. With all the strength he could muster, he hurled the poker toward the window…

There was a loud crash, as the iron rod shattered through the pane. Cold air swept fiercely into the room.

“What the hell are you doing!?” Bjorge’s voice rang out, as he jolted awake in his chair.

“There-... the window-… draugen-…” Druknet stammered, barely able to breath.

“Slow down.” Bjorge spoke sharply, as he stood.

Druknet forced himself to inhale. “The draugen… it was trying to get in through the window.”

Bjorge rubbed his eyes, as he walked over to the shattered window. He leaned out of it, carefully surveying the ground outside of it.

He let out a sigh. “There’s nothing here.”

Druknet stared in disbelief.

“I don’t even see any footprints.” Bjorge continued.

The neighboring homes suddenly lit up. Moments later, there was a pounding at Bjorge’s door.

Bjorge opened it, revealing the same blond-haired man from the night before. His face was red with anger.

“Dette er latterlig!” The man snapped.

“Jeg forstår bekymringen din.” Bjorge responded calmly, gesturing toward Druknet, who was still sat on the floor trembling with fear. He continued. “Ha litt medfølelse. Denne mannen har vært gjennom en traumatisk opplevelse.”

The man let out a deep huff. “Vi skal diskutere dette i morgen tidlig.” With that, he turned and left.

Bjorge closed the door and looked back at Druknet.

“He wants to discuss this matter further tomorrow morning.” Bjorge said. “You’re on thin ice with the other villagers.”

“I understand…” Druknet muttered quietly. “And the window… I’ll figure out a way to repay you for the damage.”

“We’ll work something out.” Bjorge replied.

He grabbed a heavy tarp from one of his shelves. “Help me cover this before we freeze to death.”

The two men nailed the tarp over the shattered frame, sealing out the cold wind. As they finished, Druknet stared at the corner of the frame. For a brief moment he swore he saw a stream of seawater run down from it. When he blinked though, it seemingly vanished.

After downing an even higher dosage of sleeping pills, Druknet went to lay back in bed. His mind was spinning. As sleep began to creep back over him again, he pulled the pocket watch from his pocket…

The ticking he heard earlier was gone. He stared at it for a while, not sure if it was just another instance of his mind playing tricks on him.

Eventually he closed his eyes, drifting back to sleep…