The House at the Edge of the Woods Chapter Two — Three Knocks Elias stood perfectly still in the darkness. The house seemed to have grown larger around him. He could hear the old woman breathing beside him. Then— Knock. Knock. Knock. From upstairs. Elias whispered, “That him?” The old woman didn’t answer. “Who the hell is upstairs?” “Not who you think.” “That wasn’t my question.” Silence. Then the voice came again. “Elias?” This time it sounded closer. Right above them. “I know you’re there.” Elias looked toward the staircase. The old woman grabbed his sleeve. “Don’t.” “I wasn’t gonna.” “You were thinking about it.” “Yeah, well, I’m allowed to think.” A tiny wooden tap came from the mantel. Elias turned. The bird was facing him. He hadn’t noticed it before, but its little wooden head had turned completely toward the staircase. Three taps. Knock. Knock. Knock. Elias whispered, “What does that mean?” The old woman stared at the bird. “It means you’re supposed to remember.” “Remember what?” She hesitated. “Your brother.” Elias laughed once. Not because anything was funny. “I don’t have a brother.” The woman said nothing. “Do I?” Still nothing. “Lady.” She finally looked at him. “You did.” The voice upstairs suddenly shouted: “ELIAS!” The whole house shook. Elias flinched. The bird fell from the mantel. He caught it. Something was carved into its underside. Two names. ELIAS & DANIEL Elias stared at them. His hands began to tremble. “Daniel…” The name felt strange. Not unfamiliar. Worse. Familiar in the way a forgotten song is familiar. A flash of memory hit him. Two boys running through the woods. A summer afternoon. A wooden bird. Someone laughing. Then a door. A black wooden door standing alone beneath the trees. And a boy’s voice: Don’t open it. Elias dropped the bird. The memory vanished. “What the fuck was that?” The old woman stepped toward him. “You remembered.” “No. I—” A floorboard creaked upstairs. Elias looked up. The voice was gone. Instead, something was slowly walking across the ceiling. One step. Then another. Then another. Elias whispered, “Tell me that’s you.” “It isn’t.” “Great.” The footsteps stopped directly above them. Then something dragged its fingers across the floor. Slowly. Three long scratches. The old woman whispered: “Elias, listen to me.” He looked at her. “If it speaks again, you may hear someone you love.” “Why?” “Because that’s how it gets close.” “What is it?” She swallowed. “I don’t know.” “You clearly know something.” “I know enough to be afraid.” Another sound came from upstairs. This time, a child’s voice. “Elias?” His blood went cold. The voice was his own. Four years old. “Elias, come here.” The old woman backed away from the staircase. The wooden bird began tapping against the floor. Three times. Then two. Three. Then two. Elias stared at it. “That’s a signal.” The old woman nodded. “Your father taught you both.” “Both?” She didn’t answer. Elias looked toward the staircase. “Daniel?” Nothing. He took one step forward. The old woman whispered: “No.” Elias stopped. From upstairs came a quiet laugh. Then the child’s voice whispered: “Elias…” A pause. “…you forgot me.” Elias looked down at the wooden bird. Three taps. Two. Three. Two. His jaw tightened. “No.” The voice upstairs went silent. Elias picked up the bird. He looked at the old woman. “I don’t know who the hell is up there.” He glanced toward the dark staircase. “But I know one thing.” “What?” Elias held the little bird tightly. “If Daniel was real…” He looked into the darkness. “…I’m not letting some lying asshole tell me otherwise.” From upstairs came one final knock. Then nothing. The old woman slowly smiled. For the first time that night, she looked relieved. “Good.” Elias frowned. “Good what?” She looked toward the staircase. “Now we can find out where they put him.”
