“3, 2, 1… let’s begin.”
Said Erin, the host of The Ring. The Ring is a weekly session where anonymous people come wearing masks to confess the evil deeds weighing on their souls. The confessions range from petty mischiefs to life altering sins. Things whispered only in darkness, beneath the hum of the single overhead light.
Tonight, the room felt colder than usual. Twelve masked participants sat in a perfect circle, each one staring into the hollow eyes of the next. Erin stood at the center, her black notebook pressed against her chest.
“As always,”
She said,
“no judgement, no interruptions, no names. Step forward if you feel the weight tonight.”
A man wearing a cracked porcelain mask rose slowly. His hands trembled as he stepped into the light. He began.
“I haven’t slept in nine days, because every time I close my eyes, I hear… knocking.”
The others shifted, a few nodding like they understood too well.
“I live alone, yet someone knocks on my bedroom door at exactly 3:17 a.m. I never answer. I never open it. Until last night.”
Erin’s pen hovered. Silence stretched.
“What did you see?”
She asked. The man shook his head.
“Not what. Who. Someone I buried years ago.”
A few gasps slipped from behind masks. Erin maintained her composure.
“This is a place for truth. Keep going.”
“She asked why I left her there.”
His voice broke.
“She said she found her way back… because I kept the guilt alive. I kept remembering her. I kept inviting her.”
A woman in a fox mask whispered,
“Spirits follow the living, not the dead.”
The man’s porcelain mask tilted toward her.
“She told me something else. She said I’m not the only one here who’s being followed.”
The circle stiffened. Erin frowned.
“This session is not for—”
“She said everyone in this room has someone waiting behind their bedroom door.”
A shudder rippled through the group.
“Enough,”
Erin said firmly.
“Please return to your seat.”
But he didn’t move. Instead he raised his shaking finger… and pointed directly at Erin.
“She said your door knocks twice. And on the third night—”
He stopped breathing for a second, chest heaving.
“it opens.”
Erin froze. Because last night… she had heard two knocks. Before she could respond, the lights flickered violently. The hum in the room died. Darkness swallowed them whole.
Someone screamed. Someone else whispered frantically. And then a Knock was heard. From the inside of the circle. A single, deliberate knock. When the lights snapped back on, the porcelain-masked man was gone.
Only his mask lay on the floor in the center, cracked anew. Erin swallowed, throat dry.
“Session adjourned,”
She whispered. But she knew tonight wasn’t the end. Tonight was only knock number two.
