09/05/2026
It was Halloween night in a quiet neighborhood outside Salem, Massachusetts.
By 9 PM, the streets were almost empty. The children had gone home with bags full of candy, porch lights were slowly turning off, and a cold October fog had begun covering the road.
But at exactly 11:13 PM, Emily heard three knocks on her front door.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
She looked through the window.
Nobody was there.
Emily opened the door slightly and saw a small orange pumpkin sitting on the porch.
There was a message carved into it:
โDON'T LOOK BEHIND YOU.โ
She froze.
Then she heard a child's voice whisper from inside the house.
โTrick or treatโฆโ
Emily slowly turned around.
Nothing.
She checked every room. The house was empty.
Her phone suddenly rang.
It was her neighbor, Mrs. Carter.
โEmily,โ the old woman whispered, โdid someone knock on your door?โ
โYes. Why?โ
There was silence.
Then Mrs. Carter said:
โBecause the same thing happened to me thirty years ago.โ
Emily's heart stopped.
Mrs. Carter continued.
โOn Halloween night in 1996, a little boy disappeared from this neighborhood. His last words were โtrick or treat.โ They never found him.โ
Another three knocks came from Emily's front door.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Emily looked toward the hallway.
The child's voice returned.
โTrick or treatโฆโ
Then her porch light went out.
When it came back on, the pumpkin was gone.
In its place was a tiny pair of muddy children's footprintsโฆ
leading from the front door into Emily's house.
And the strangest part?
The footprints stopped directly behind her.
Emily never opened the door again.
But every Halloween since that night, at exactly 11:13 PM, three knocks are heard from inside her house.
Knock. Knock. Knock.