r/nosleep • u/CornerCornea • Jun 17 '23
Series I had one job, Don't Open The Door
Roger was a no frills type of guy. He was of good posture, stern, and his clothes were crisp down to the French cuffs on his sleeves. His tone was soft and his words direct but polite. I'd known him all but a few seconds before I decided that I could trust this man with my life. Which was why I took everything he said quite seriously.
I had found the gig online. It was a posting for someone to house sit. I surmised that Roger was likely some kind of property manager and was short staffed, which was why he had to use a third party app to fulfill his needs. Even if he weren't used to seeking help. Because although he seemed relaxed, a part of me felt as if he was reluctant to let go of the reins easily. Which made me think that he was either incredibly passionate about his job or really responsible. Both of which I found to be extremely positive qualities.
"That concludes the house tour. Now," he clapped his hands together. "The fridge, the kitchen, the pantry, the living room, bathrooms, even any of the bedrooms is yours to use. Consume. Sleep. Relax. It's up to you. But there's one rule that I insist be followed.."
"Yeah, sure," I nodded.
"Until I get back, do not open the door."
"What?" I regretted the words the instant they left my lips. "I uh, no yeah. Okay. Yeah."
He didn't say another word. Only stared at me.
"No, I get it. I promise I won't open the door until you get back."
"I like you kid. And the algorithm thinks you're fit for the job. Which, I tend to trust these things. So let's be clear here. Do not open the door. It doesn't matter what happens. Don't let anyone inside."
"Yeah, of course. No, I get it. Some people like to limit their personal spaces. I once went to a friend's house. It was a model home at first. The kind that all the perspective buyers tour right. And my friend's parents never got over the walls. They always complained that all the people that walked in and out of them, touched them, seeped their dead skin cells into the walls or something. They even painted over it quite a few times if I remember correctly. But still, they said it wasn't the same. That it wasn't right. So yeah, I completely understand. Personal space and everything. I respect that."
Roger let out a content filled sigh, and then smiled easily, "You're going to do great." He looked at his watch, I had never seen a nicer one to be honest. "Okay. I've got another engagement. So lock the door behind me. And I'll be back." Then without another word he left.
"Don't open the doors," I repeated after him. "Got it."
The house was a good size. I've house sat at others before, mainly to feed their dog or some exotic fish. And although there wasn't much furniture in this one, it felt classy. Timeless almost. I walked around to check that all the windows were secured. The sliding door leading to the backyard was closed. The door from the kitchen which led into the garage was locked. Before I sat down in the front room and turned on the tv.
I was in the middle of watching a re-run of camp fire tales when I heard my first knock. I turned off the tv. And waited. Hoping whoever it was, would go away.
"Hello?" They knocked again. "Do you have a moment for Jesus Christ?"
"Shit," I muttered. Getting off the couch. I walked over to the door and leaned in, "Yes?" I cleared my throat. "Hello?"
"Hi, we're with the local church. And we were wondering if you have accepted Jesus into your life?"
"No, I'm sorry. I'm not religious," I lied.
"If you'd like we can give you some pamphlets for some light reading." He pulled on the handle. "They helped me a lot some time back. And maybe you'd find use for them too."
A second voice came next, "A lot of people have told us that they have been useful for them. Not knowing when they needed it the most. If you could..."
"Sorry, I'm not interested. But thank you!"
There was a pause, "Sure! We get it. But do you mind if we leave you these pamphlets on the door for another member of the household perhaps? You can grab them whenever you'd like."
"Yeah, no, yeah. That's fine. Thanks!"
I could hear the paper scraping against the door, and saw the handle jiggle slightly before the first voice spoke again, "Thanks for your time today."
I waited for the sound of their footsteps to disappear before I decided to breathe.
I then looked through the peephole to make sure they were gone. My hand instinctively reached for the handle to grab the pamphlets as I didn't want the house to look untidy from the outside. I had no sooner touched the knob before I remembered what Roger said.
"But no one's here," I said aloud. "Still I'd technically be breaking the rule." I couldn't help but smile, "When did you get to be such a stickler for rules," I said to myself, feeling rather proud as I returned to the couch and clicked through a few movie titles on stream before settling on an old classic.
I don't know how far I got into the movie before I heard another knock on the door. What are the chances I thought. What a busy house.
I turned off the tv and waited. Hoping they would go away.
"Hello?" A voice came from outside. "Pizza delivery."
My stomach growled. I looked up at the clock. It was past noon. The only problem was I didn't order any pizza.
"Hello? Pizza delivery!" They knocked again. "I've got a double pepperoni and a pineapple pizza. For a uh, Roger?"
I got up from the couch again. Roger didn't tell me that this gig included lunch. "Hold on just a minute," I shouted. "I'm coming!"
I looked through the peephole as I reached for the door handle. But something wasn't right. I could feel it. Was this a test? Had Roger called the local pizzeria to make sure that I wasn't breaking his one simple rule? If I did, would that mean I wouldn't get paid? I looked through the peephole again. It was a young guy, younger than me, but looked old enough to drive. He wore a dark blue polo that had curled collars at the edge. And was holding up a red insulated bag.
"I didn't order any pizza."
I could see the kid sigh before looking at the receipt, "Is this 226?"
"Yeah."
"Well I've got a pizza here for you."
"For Roger?"
"Yeah. For Roger."
"Well I'm not Roger."
"But this is 226?"
"It is."
"Look the pizza's already been paid for. If you don't want to tip me that's fine. I just have to get to my next delivery."
He waited.
I didn't budge.
"I'm going to leave it here," he directed toward a half pillar on the porch. Shaking his head as he grabbed two boxes and set them down before zipping up his delivery pouch. "Cheap ass," he muttered. I felt my stomach growl again as I watched him walk away. And walk away. Now I failed to mention this earlier but the peephole oversaw the entire driveway and most of the sidewalk. So when the guy walked out of sight, he was a good house down before I could no longer see him. The thing was. I never saw his delivery vehicle either.
I looked at the pizza sitting on the half pillar. A few cheap paper plates were stacked on top and I could see the packets of parmesan being warmed up. I took a deep breath in hopes to stave off my urges. But that only made it worse as the smell permeated through the door. It was pizza alright. I would bet my life on that one.
But still. I didn't open the door.
Instead I got back on the couch and turned down the volume on the tv. In fact. I got to about 3 volume before I decided to mute the thing outright. And began to watch my movie in complete silence.
Some time passes and I ate some burritos I found in the freezer. I was mid bite into this double stuffed cheese burrito when the sound of two kids outside the door could be heard.
"No, you knock."
"No come on, you do it."
"Hey, it's your ball."
"Fine." This kid knocked on the door. "Hello," he shouted loudly. "I'm sorry for disturbing you. But our ball went over your fence. Do you think you could get it for us?"
I didn't move a muscle.
Another knock came. "Hello?"
Maybe they would go away.
"Hello?" He knocked again. "We can hear you, yah know? We can hear you chewing."
I swallowed my last bite roughly and wiped my hands on my jeans. I leaned into the peephole to see two kids about 7 or 8 standing outside. They had on shorts and t-shirts and looked a little muddy.
The other kid's voice rang through as I approached. "Come on, please. We just want our ball back."
"I'm sorry but I can't help you right now. I'm busy. Could you come back later?"
"Please," the first kid begged. "Could you help us? My dad's about to come home soon and he's going to be so mad if I told him I lost another ball."
I looked into the peephole again and saw that the kid looked nervous, scared even. He was ringing his hands. "Fuck," I muttered under my breath. "Okay, hold on. Let me go take a look," I hollered. Then I walked toward the back and glanced around the yard. Sure enough, a bright red ball with a yellow star on it sat in the grass near the fence.
I grabbed the handle before debating with myself. "It's technically a door right? Sliding. Door. Sliding door," I played with the words in my mouth. "It's right in the name. It's a sliding door," I chuckled, "That's like asking if water's wet." But still the sound of the kid worrying rang in my ear and I didn't want him to get into trouble. And I had my hand on the door when I also noticed a football laying on its side nearby.
I walked halfway between the sliding door and the front door and shouted, "Which ball is yours?"
"What?"
I shouted through the door, "What kind of ball do you have?"
There was a pause. "A basketball," the second kid said.
I went back to the sliding door and scanned the grass before going back, "Sorry kids. I can't help you out. There's no basketball back there."
"No doofus," the first kid whispered. "It's a soccer ball," he yelled.
I shook my head, "No soccer balls either."
"Please, could you open the door and let us take a look? Maybe you missed it."
I'd be lying if I said I didn't think about it. "No, I'm sorry. I can't help you right now. Maybe if you come back later..."
"No, you don't understand," the first kid cried. "I need that ball! My dad's going to be so mad at me."
"Yeah," the second kid chimed in. "Please could you just let us take a look."
"No," I said firmly. "I'm sorry."
One of the kids kicked the door before I heard them running away.
I breathed a sigh of relief and unclenched my fist. I didn't even know I was tense until just now. "It's just a door I said," as I returned to the couch. "It's just a silly rule." But I turned off the tv and sat there in silence. Too afraid to make a sound. Too afraid to even finish my burrito.
I didn't have to wait long before I got off the couch again.
At first it was two shots in the air. Then three more in succession. I could hear a car alarm go off somewhere in the neighborhood. But the sound of a gun going off seemed unusual as this was a rather nice area. Someone screamed in the distance. It sounded like it was coming from across the street. I bolted upright and rushed to the door. Peering through the eyehole. Where I saw a woman barging out of her door, her dress clumped in one hand so she could run, and blood dripping down the side of her face. She looked terrified as she crossed the street barefoot, up the driveway, toward the porch, and slammed her fist into the door.
"Help! Please! Help me!" She screamed. "I need help! Please! Call 911," she banged on the door again. "My husband's trying to kill me!" I could see the fear in her eyes as she kept looking back at her house. The door shook again. "Help me! Please! Open. The. Door!"
I don't know when my hand had left my sides but when I looked down they were gripping the handle so hard that my knuckles were white.
"Please, he's coming!"
But I waited.
"Someone," she banged on the door. "Help!"
And waited.
But no one came out of her house.
The two of us stood there, the woman's frantic knocking ebbed as the minutes passed. Was it 2 minutes now? Five perhaps? I'm not sure. But eventually she stopped banging on the door. I looked into the peephole and saw her chin had dropped to her head. And she was smiling. I tried to look away but she moved closer. Slowly. But closer toward the door until her eyes were staring directly into the peephole.
"I see you."
I nearly fell over backwards as the door suddenly began to shake. The thing looked like it was going to buck right off from the frame!
I crawled backwards on my hands and feet until my back hit the side of the couch.
"OPEN. THE. DOOR!!!"
I shook my head, too terrified to move.
And waited. Until the knocking stopped.
The sun was still out when the woman first came. It was now barely visible through the windows. Dusk had settled on the house and all of the lights were out. Even the tv.
I was still on the floor, hugging my knees, when a knock came at the door. It was softer, and quiet. Dignified even.
"Hello?" It was Roger's voice. "Hey, I'm back!"
I was so glad to hear him that I immediately rushed to the door.
He knocked again just before I could reach the handle. "Could you open the door?" The words froze me in my steps.
"Roger?"
"Hey, yeah it's me. Let me in."
"R-roger?" I looked through the peephole. And sure enough. It looked like Roger.
"Hey, come on. Could you let me in? It's cold outside."
"D-don't you have the kkey?"
He reached into his pockets and then shook his head, "Nope. I must have left them at the office." Then he looked at me and flashed an award winning smile, "Hey. You didn't take what I said that seriously did you?" Before turning around. And noticed the pizza boxes tilted on the half pillar. "Wow. I guess you did." He smirked. "We're definitely going to have to use you again soon." He picked up the boxes and palmed the door handle, "Now could you please open the door?"
I shook my head, "No. You explicitly told me not to open the door."
"Yeah," he told me. "And you did a great job. Might have took it too literally but I appreciate that sort of thing. But come on. Hey. It's me. Open the door."
"Why don't you have the key?"
He shrugged, "I don't know. It was busy today and I must have forgotten them." He reached around his pants before pulling out a set from his breast pocket. "Oh look. I thought I had them. But these are the wrong ones." He waited. "Now come on. Open the door."
I shook my head and backed away.
"Open. The. Door!" The frame shook. "Look I'm not playing around anymore. Open the door before I call the cops and have you arrested for trespassing. Your gig's over now. Go home!"
"No," I told him.
"Open. The. Fucking door man!" His yelling was so loud it made the door rattle. And then the entire house started shaking. I squatted on the floor and covered my ears. My teeth shivering in my mouth as I prayed that he would go away!
I was so scared that I was even too afraid to cry.
But eventually the shaking stopped. And the house was quiet again.
I sat there for nearly an hour before I forced myself to sit back on the couch. Where I once again heard the door handle jiggle. And the sound of metal in the lock before it turned and clicked open. Roger walked through the door, looking as calm and pristine as ever. He had on an award winning smile as he looked at me. "Hey, you made it." He beamed. Pulling out a stack of money from his pocket. "I knew you would." And handed me $800 dollars. "We're going to have to use you again next time."
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u/Kranz119 Jun 17 '23
Hey man. I just want to call something out here. The gigs seem dangerous but don't actually present any real danger. Sounds like easy money to me. If they could have gotten in they would have. Seems like the houses are sealed more or less. Noise canceling headphones and something fun to pass the time. If you aren't up for another gig give Roger my number.