The Reason Why I Lock the Door During a Storm

The summer storm seemed harmless, at first. It struck on a hot, August night, not unlike tonight.

Pretty little alerts buzzed happily on every cell phone inside the safety and sanctity of my living room. My wife, Emily, was the first one to read the emergency message aloud to the group.

"**Flash flood warning in this area,**" she announced, with misplaced, sing-song optimism. "*Ohhh, I love watching a good storm!*"

No sooner than she spoke, the evening sky erupted with forks of angry yellow lightning and buckets of cascading rain. Four of us eagerly crowded around the bay window to watch.

That night, we were entertaining guests at our house in the New Jersey suburbs. Emily’s best friend, Diana, was visiting from the city. Unfortunately for me, that meant her annoying and arrogant boyfriend was along for the ride.

Aaron was awful.

I hoped the storm would save me from another one of his self-righteous sermons. I was wrong.

"*Jeez, this rain is Biblical,*" I started, shaming myself for the bait.

"*Noah's Arc withstood many times this rain,*" Aaron finished. "*Isn't that a fun fact? The Lord always provides.*"

It was thankfully hard to hear his nasally voice. The gutters on our middle-class home, an admitted fixer-upper, were filling in seconds. That was about eighth on the long list of things to fix. I cursed myself again for the embarrassment that would surely follow.

"*Well, I believe in morality. That should count for everybody,*" Emily countered with sass.

"*I believe the basement might flood with this much rain,*" I muttered to no one in particular.

"*Oh, gorgeous,*" Aaron said sarcastically. "*Might want to have a guy look at that, bud, that’s dangerous if you plan on having kids in here.*" He continued on about having a *guy* for every homeowner situation, which was really just his wealthy father. I motioned for Em to follow me.

She met me worriedly in the kitchen. After taking two steps down, it was apparent that I was right about the rain.

On the outside of the house, the stairs leading to the basement door are underground. In extreme circumstances, that outdoor stairwell can flood if there is too much water in a short period of time. If it floods, an avalanche of water will pour into the basement as a means to evacuate the now filled basin of steps on the outside.

In case that is hard to visualize… I took a video when this started. [Here it is.](https://imgur.com/a/wmWYAuv)

The end result was that our floors were filthy and covered in inches of water.

I mumbled a couple quick *shits*, shortly after this video was taken, and asked Em to help me unplug the electrical equipment.

In a panic, I turned off the circuit to the entire floor. The lights cut accordingly. We were left in darkness and silence.

Suddenly... the only sounds were Aaron's muted voice and the angry pattering of rain.

And then, Emily screamed.

I sloshed across the cold water and reached out into the inky blackness for her. After a chest tightening couple of seconds, I wrapped my arms around Em's shaking cold frame, and thanked God that she was alright. Call that an overreaction at this stage. But my nerves were already shot, and I thought she got shocked.

"*What happened? Are you okay?*" I asked.

Em gasped and caught her breath.

"*Something swam by me,*"

If the prospect of dealing with an insurance provider had not freaked me out already... that did.

Panic built up inside my throat like a lump. "*We need to shovel the water out of the staircase. The drain must be clogged.*” I started to look for my boots, but they must have floated into the office. “*I'll be right back, maybe Aaron will help me...*"

"*NO,*" Emily shouted suddenly. She gripped my arm so hard that there were red impressions from her fingernails. "*Don't go outside. It's dangerous.*"

She was right, as always. The wind alone was sure to take down a few trees, not to mention the lightning passing through like a constant, convulsing current. Either of those things made going outside pure stupidity. The Emergency Alert warned people to stay indoors.

I nodded and followed her out. We headed back up to the kitchen like depressed, waterlogged squeak toys. Diana was the first to greet us at the top.

"*LOOK at the two of yous! Did you pop a pipe?*"

I ignored her. So did Emily. We were pissed enough, and tolerance for their bullshit had reached an all time low. Soon enough, Aaron rounded the corner and let out an open guffaw at our drenched clothes and hair.

"*How's the weather down there guys, huh? Right?*"

I think I mumbled something about his stupid fucking golf cap.

I regret that. Especially now.

Emily gasped behind me, but I didn't care at the time. He was an asshole, and he deserved it. I escaped the kitchen into the sanctity of my bedroom in search of some dry clothes.

Our German Shepherd, Lola, was locked in there by herself. Aaron did not like dogs. Of course. The pup seemed to be taking the tough treatment well enough. She had been quiet all night. But now that I was in there… I could see her head was stuffed under the bed.

I reached out to pet her head and was greeted with a nasty snarl in return. Emily’s voice echoed through the hallways and pulled me away from the dog before I could give her any concern.

“*Oh my GOD, Matt, it’s hailing!*”

Either the Devil was dancing on our rooftop, or she was right, again. I looked outside and saw fist-sized balls of ice punch their way into the pavement of my already chipped driveway. I cursed myself... this time for leaving the car outside. I closed the bedroom behind me and joined the group back in the kitchen. Diana seemed to be following the same line of thought.

“*Emily, the Jag is out there! That stupid car cost more than this house. Can we use your garage?*” she asked.

“*Well, I guess our cars aren’t in there…*” she shot me a knowing glance. “*But don’t go outside, Di, it’s really unsafe.*”

“*It's just a little ice water. In August,*" she snorted. "*Hey, maybe those asshole scientists are right, huh? Pastor Pete says not to trust it, though. Just another hoax.*”

She pulled open the deck door before we could protest her anymore.

“*This is bonkers… guys, its freezing. You feel this? Are we still in Jersey?*”

I did. The air was so cold that it wafted it's way through the kitchen. Subconsciously, the three of us backed away from the open door just as the balls of hail in the sky shifted to pristine snowflakes.

“*Diana… get inside, now,*” Aaron started.

“*I’ll be right back, hon, stop,*” she countered from the doorway.

“*Diana, you stupid fucking idiot, get in this house right now.*” Aaron said sternly.

How holy.

Of course, that made Di more mad. She slammed the door and disappeared into the growing fog.

And then it was quiet. We waited for her in silence.

At first it felt like only a minute. Emily was pacing back and forth while I surveyed damage to the rest of the house. A few trees seemed to have fallen in the backyard. The snow was accumulating at a record pace. In what seemed like only a couple minutes, there was already a half foot of it on the ground. The wind whipped it back and forth to create drifts of a foot or deeper. I was watching it from the bathroom when Aaron called out for our attention;

“*I never heard a car start.*”

The three of us converged again by the deck door. The backyard was a backdrop of white. It was impossible to see the driveway.

“*Did either of you hear a car? We have to go find her,*” Aaron continued in a growing frenzy.

“*We cannot go out there,*” Emily said in a mouse-like tone. "*Just wait another minute.*"

Aaron looked from me to my wife. I shrugged in his direction.

“*To Hell with you both. You belong there, with your morality bullshit. Open the door.*”

Aaron pushed Em out of the way in his haste.

Before he got halfway there, I grabbed him by the collar and threw him out the door myself.

Then I slammed it shut.

The house was then quiet again. We were left with Aaron's golf cap, thrown back inside with the wind. I was just about to remark about what an asshole he was, when suddenly...

An enormous roar punctured through the storm.

Emily and I darted to the deck window to check it out. At first, there was nothing to see. Waves of snow sheets encompassed every corner and tree branch on our property. Visibility was low.

But then, in the corner of the yard, a flash of red jacket alerted my eyes to a shape moving quickly by the driveway.

It was Aaron.

He was trying to run across the snow. But he wasn’t getting far. He kept looking behind him, at something just outside my line of sight.

After a few feet, he seemed to give up altogether and fall helplessly to the ground.

Then the thing behind him came into focus.

“*Oh God, oh my God, oh my God, Matt, look at it. Look at it. Look at it, look at it, look at it, what the fuck is that!*”

The snow blocked most of my view, but, some facts were easily discernible.

In comparison to Aaron, the creature stood at least three feet taller.

Its back was hunched and its skin was covered in a matted, dark colored hair.

It followed our former friend lazily. There was no haste to its movement.

When it caught him, it lifted him up in the air like a chew toy.

The sickening crunch was more than enough for me to grab Emily and hold her eyes up against my shoulder.

Neither of us needed to see any more. My first instinct was to lock the doors. Lola was barking, and that would draw attention. I knew whatever was outside would soon set its sights on the house. I grabbed Em’s hand and ran to lock each lock. For once, I thanked myself for spending money on security, that summer.

When that was done, we huddled in the bedroom with the dog and waited it out.

It was quiet, again.

I know, given the absolute shit show that we just witnessed outside our own house, you would think it would be panic. But, Lola now knew to be silent. She took to her spot under the bed. Emily whimpered, but her voice was muffled under the covers.

I watched the window.

The snow was not stopping. After only an hour or so, more than a foot had piled up. There is always a stillness in nature when such a storm occurs. But there was something *too* still. Sure enough, moments later, the loud crunch of footsteps outside confirmed my theory.

“**Open the door,**” echoed a familiar and haunting voice from somewhere in the distance. “**You two idiots. Open the door.**”

Emily and Lola both cried by my side. I felt helpless.

Something started to tap at the walls of the house. It ran back and forth and tapped each door and window it could find. Like it was searching for weaknesses. The noise sounded like long nails clicking against the wood frames.

Seemingly frustrated, the voice called out again, this time with a horrible parody of Diana’s obnoxious Brooklyn accent;

“**Look at the two of yous! Just another hoax!**”

The curious scratching focused on the front door. Then it turned into a vicious pounding.

“**This is bonkers!**” it screeched with a horrible, throaty laugh. It coughed. The voice was horribly disjointed as it switched behind Diana and Aaron’s two very different tones. “**Open the door. The Lord always provides. Open the door. The Lord always provides.**”

“**Open the door, pleASE, Matt.**”

“**Open the door, pleASE, Emily.**”

“**OPEN THE DOOR. OPENTHEDOOR. OPENTHEDOOR. OPENTHEDOOR.**”

Emily screamed alongside it in a hysterical, horribly wounded, yet still battle-ready tone of her own.

“*GO FUCK YOURSELF.*”

Then she did something I had never seen her do in five years of marriage. She got down to one knee and prayed.

The prayer was not to anyone in particular. Em was never that religious. I could not even hear much of what she was saying through the horrible banging outside. But, somehow, she looked at peace. She thanked someone, anyone, for our life. She thanked them for our house, and for our memories inside. For all the warm times and holidays spent around the fireside, with seasons of Netflix and cases of bottled wine. She thanked Them. All of Them. Any and all Gods that might be present on Earth on that Hellish evening.

And when she finished, she offered Them one final line.

“*If Someone is watching what is happening to us...*" she started to sob desperately among the scrapes. "*Please help.*"

Something answered.

The pounding receded, weakly, at first.

Then the great footsteps that arrived exited the same way they came.

After an another agonizingly silent hour, the snow started to taper and disappear altogether. Moonlight crept into the windows as the clouds receded and snow melted swiftly in the rising sun. When the morning came, the weather finally died down.

Our friends were reported missing. They have not been found.

Tonight is the one year anniversary of their disappearance. There is a warning for another severe storm.

We will not be opening the door.

[fb1](https://www.reddit.com/r/MattRichardsen/)