Things had not been easy lately. His luck had run out long ago, sending his life into a downwards spiral. He was trapped in a vicious cycle of misfortune. Shunned by family, cast away like rubbish, forced to find a new home. There was not a lot of money to spare in his wallet, right out of high school. In his situation, he could not find a good job, and any he got did not last long; the town was small, close-knit. He was but a stranger, an outsider, once again.

The days were draining, and the nights were not much better. He had been missing a lot of sleep. The rundown room of the motel was no real home. He barely could rest, and honestly, there were far too many reasons to point out.

Tonight, he was awake again. It was not due to the notion of what he would have to deal with at dawn. There was something far more bothersome than the thought of his broken-down car. He truly did not want to get up in the middle of the night to do something about it, but the noise was getting hard to bear.

The room was cheap, very much so. That, of course, implied a lack of maintenance from the owners of the motel. When he booked it two weeks ago, the small fridge by the door had been emitting a very subtle buzz, which he learned to ignore. Next, he noticed the rumbling of the pipes, which was usually caused by another dweller trying to get some hot water.

The fan by the window was old; he wouldn’t be surprised if it ended up in an antique shop one day. Like the fridge, it struggled to even function and made some noise. He would keep it off for the night, but he preferred to suffer its faint clatter rather than the excruciating summer heat.

Like everything in his life did, the fan seemed to break down even more. His mind had been drifting into a calm sleep… and then he heard it. He barely reacted at first, but then he became aware of the knocking. Intermittent, but constant and rhythmic. It was just loud enough to be annoying, not enough to alert other guests.

There was always a second of pause between each tap. One of the blades had surely dislodged, to then hit a section of the metallic guard as it kept turning. He really tried to ignore it, because he had almost managed to fall asleep. Getting up and waking fully was the last thing he wanted to do, but after some minutes it became clear that he had no choice.

He opened his eyes at last. No tired sigh escaped him; his resignation had reached a point of no return already. He began to reach for the bedside table with a hand, trying to turn on the battered lamp there.

The room was now lighted dimly, causing every single piece of furniture to cast big shadows over the dirty carpet. He brushed his face and stepped groggily towards the fan, making sure to not trip with some of the cables spread on the ground.

He yawned as he unplugged the darn thing. For a second, there was silence, and he could not help but smile a bit. He turned away from the desk and fan, ready to return to the small bed… but then he heard it again.

One second. One knock. It was sharper, unaccompanied by the subtle clatter of the metallic fan. The sound came from behind him, and he tensed when he realized that it did not come from the desk, but the window at its side.

He dreaded turn and look. Now he was awake, far too much. His mind was alarmed by the fact that the noise did not come from inside the room. Somehow, he wished that something around him was broken, for the alternative was far worse.

Before unplugging the fan, he had caught a glimpse of the drapes. They were down, but not enough to cover the whole window. He could look; he had to. The taps were not intensifying, but they seemed to grow louder with each second that passed… because they were not stopping. He was inches away from the cause.

He always swore that things could not get worse. Blind optimism was both his best and worst attribute. That was why he took a deep breath and began to turn to look out the window, sure that the noise was caused by some outer boiler or coincidental wind strikes.

It was not. He froze as he looked, and that smile was the last thing he saw once the knocking ceased.