Knock Three Times

{

"title": "Knock Three Times",

"format": "SHORT FILM SCREENPLAY",

"genre": "HORROR / SUPERNATURAL"

}

A narrow, claustrophobic hallway outside a small apartment door. One flickering BULB above. The door has a peephole and a chain lock. Silence hangs heavy.

ARJUN (34), sleeveless undershirt, pajama pants, messy hair, unshaven, tired eyes, stands barefoot in the hallway with a SMARTPHONE in one hand and APARTMENT KEYS in the other. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days.

A beat.

Then—

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

Arjun flinches.

Nahi... phir se.

He steps closer to the door, staring at it like it might breathe.

Kaun hai?

Silence.

He leans toward the PEEPHOLE.

POV THROUGH PEEPHOLE - HALLWAY

Empty corridor. Flickering bulb. No one there.

Arjun exhales, half-laughing at himself.

Bas? Itna hi?

He checks the chain lock, then the handle. Tight.

He raises his phone and starts recording.

Night three. 3:13 a.m. Again.

He glances at the wall, then back at the door.

Agar koi prank hai na... toh very bad timing hai, bhai.

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

Arjun jerks back.

Arre yaar!

He quickly turns on the PHONE FLASHLIGHT and sweeps it across the hallway. Nothing.

He unlocks the chain a little, then stops himself.

Nahi. Nahi, nahi.

He takes a deep breath, tries to steady himself.

Main kal subah landlord ko bol dunga. CCTV lagwa dunga. Sab pakad lunga.

A faint SOUND from outside the door.

Not footsteps.

A voice.

VOICE (O.S.)

Main andar aane nahi aaya.

Arjun freezes.

Kaun... kaun bol raha hai?

VOICE (O.S.)

Main tumhe warn karne aaya hoon.

Arjun stares at the door, stunned.

Warn? Kis cheez ka?

A long, terrible pause.

VOICE (O.S.)

Jo tumhare apartment mein hai.

Arjun lets out a nervous, disbelieving laugh.

Akele rehta hoon, boss. Mazaak mat karo.

VOICE (O.S.)

Abhi tak.

The hallway bulb flickers harder. The light nearly dies, then returns.

Arjun’s face drains of color.

He slowly turns his head toward the apartment door, then back.

Andar...?

A low, unsettling SOUND from inside the apartment.

A chair leg dragging across the floor.

Arjun’s eyes widen.

Nahi... nahi, nahi.

He grips the keys so hard they cut into his palm.

Okay. Okay. Record kar raha hoon. Agar kuch bhi hua na—

His phone DINGS.

UNKNOWN TEXT MESSAGE ON SCREEN: MAT KHOLNA.

Arjun stares at it.

Another message arrives.

UNKNOWN TEXT MESSAGE ON SCREEN: WOH DOOR KE SAAMNE NAHI HAI.

Arjun slowly looks down the hallway.

Empty.

He swallows.

Toh... kahan hai?

Another text.

UNKNOWN TEXT MESSAGE ON SCREEN: KNOCK KA JAWAB MAT DENA. AGAR USNE TUMHARI AWAAZ SUN LI, TOH WOH TUMHARI AWAAZ SEEKH LEGA.

Arjun’s breath catches.

Meri awaaz...?

A beat.

Then, from INSIDE THE APARTMENT, in Arjun’s exact voice:

ARJUN (V.O., INSIDE APARTMENT)

Arjun... darwaza mat kholna.

Arjun goes rigid. His eyes fill with terror.

He is standing in the hallway.

The voice came from inside.

Main... main yahan hoon.

A second voice, still his voice, but closer now, from inside the apartment:

ARJUN (V.O., INSIDE APARTMENT)

Haan.

Arjun slowly raises the phone, recording his own face, the door, the chain lock.

Kaun hai tu?

The apartment door handle inside the flat begins to TURN.

Arjun backs away in horror, trapped between the hallway wall and the door.

No... no, no, no...

The flickering bulb goes almost dark.

In the darkness, one final KNOCK.

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

SILENCE.

Then, from the blackness, Arjun’s own voice—calm, close, smiling:

ARJUN (V.O.)

Mat kholna.