Rhoda came back home around 8:00 PM after a long, exhausting day at work. She dropped her handbag and the red feathered face mask she bought on her way home on the table, picked up her phone, and sat on the bed to attend to her online data and recharge card business, which she uses as her side hustle. As she settled down to address the lingering tasks on her phone, exhaustion quickly took over, and before she knew it, she had drifted off into a deep slumber.
The night was still, and the room bathed in the soft glow of her phone screen when she awoke around 9:00 p.m. Blinking away the remnants of her dreams, she groggily realized she had fallen asleep while attending to her virtual customers.
"Ohhh God!" Frustration welled up within her as she gazed at the still-unanswered messages on her phone. She hissed in irritation, tossed the device onto her bed, and rushed to the bathroom for a much-needed refreshing shower.
As she stood before the bathroom mirror, just about to remove her towel and turn on the shower, an unexpected sound interrupted her thoughts. A rhythmic and peculiar knocking echoed through the door. "Ko ko ko ko ko..." The sound was relentless and unsettling, totally different from the normal human knocks she was accustomed to. With a towel wrapped around her body, she walked cautiously to the door and inquired, "Who's there?". Her hand reached for the door handle, and just as her fingers brushed it, the peculiar knocking ceased abruptly.
With utmost curiosity, she opened the door, only to be greeted by an empty space—the short lobby leading to her parlor. She extended her neck, searching for the source of the enigmatic knocking, but there was no one to be found. She looked confused and then thought the strange experience was just her imagination. She closed the door with a resolute thud and turned to resume her interrupted shower.
Yet, as she took her first step back toward the bathroom, the strange knocking returned with a vengeance. Startled and unnerved, she retraced her steps, her eyes fixed on the door. She intended to fling it open and expose the prankster who was tormenting her. However, a sudden realization struck her like a thunderbolt—she lived alone, and the door in question was the entrance to her bedroom, not the main entrance to her apartment. Anxiety coursed through her, but her determination remained steadfast.
Summoning her courage, she lunged at the door handle, yanking it open with a sudden force. The knocking stopped instantly, and, at the same moment, her towel slipped from her grasp, leaving her exposed, which she grabbed immediately. She frantically scanned the empty lobby once more but found no one. Feeling nervous, she tiptoed to the small living room, but there were no hidden visitors there either.
Returning to her bedroom, she slammed the door shut, her pulse racing. As she steeled herself to continue her shower, the eerie knocking resurfaced once more. Fear now gripped her; her skin crawled with goosebumps. Her mind raced as she approached the door once again, her hand trembling as she grasped the handle. The knocking ceased once more as she flung the door open.
This time, there was a smal red feather on the ground—a part of the Halloween costume she had brought home for an office party the following Friday, Halloween night. She picked up the feather, went back to her room, and fixed the feather back to the mask on the table. To her surprise, the knocking did not resume when she turned away.
"Wait, Could it be...?" She muttered as she dropped the mask on the ground out of fear, and she shifted back to a corner, looking at the mask on the ground with its feathers waving via the breeze from the blazing ceiling fan. Realization struck her like a bolt of lightning. The mask had been the source of the peculiar sounds all along. Fear and relief washed over her.
She carefully avoided the spot where the mask was as she went to the wardrobe, brought out a black jean pant and a yellow vintage polo shirt, and wore them. Immediately, it was as if her bravery was embedded in the wear. She boldly collected the mask into a black nylon bag and zoomed off to the store where she had purchased it, without fear of walking in the night, eager to be rid of the unsettling object.
She got there and met the shop closed. She looked around to see if there's any way she could get to the shop owner, but to no avail.
"Ma, good evening, ma. Please, do you know where the man who sells masks here lives?" She met a woman who seemed to live around the area and asked.
"No, no, I don't know, but you could get his phone number from the signboard and get to him," the woman replied, pointing to the small steel sign post in a corner as she walked away.
"Okay, thank you," she said as she walked closer to the signpost, collected the number on the spot, dialed it immediately, and the server's automated reply greeted her;
"Sorry, the MTN number you're trying to reach is not available now. Please try again later. Thank you."
She sighed with her hand placed on her head in a bid to calm her bugging mind.
Still on the spot, an idea knocked in:
"What about dropping the nylon at the door and leaving? It's as good as you returned it," That was all she needed at that moment. She walked to the door and dropped the black nylon containing the Halloween mask. A sense of relief and clarity washed over her, and she went away.
She decided to forgo the Friday Halloween party; the mask had given her enough fright for one night. When she later recounted her bizarre experience to her friends, they raised disbelieving eyebrows, dismissing her story as a product of her overactive imagination. But for her, the mysterious incident would forever remain a chilling enigma.
Thanks for reading.