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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
We all know about the world's shortest horror story, called Knock, by Fredric Brown. Seventeen words of horror. I decided to go a little further with the story and write my own version. My version isn't necessarily horror, but it has the same concept nevertheless.

Submitted: June 20, 2013

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Submitted: June 20, 2013



Alone in a quiet room, sat a man. His fists were clenched so tightly, they turned white. There was a look of anger, pain, fear, and regret, on his pale face. This man, whose name was Bob, was known as the devil in disguise. By who? Those who claim to be victims of his evil. But Bob wasn't the devil. Not even close. Bob was a victim himself.


As Bob sat there on the old gray sofa, his eyes shut tightly, he thought about what had happened and how he ended up here. The memory brought a piercing pain in his chest, but the images whirled in his mind, refusing to leave the old man alone.


He remembered it so clearly, like it was just yesterday. People swarming past him as he walked along the street. A small child approached him, her eyes gleaming as she halted. She was beautiful. Her hair was long and golden, with small curls near the end. Her eyes were like pools of water, but brighter. Her hands gripped a small brown bag. Her voice, so innocent yet so weird. There was something else in her voice, but Bob just couldn't put his finger on it. He simply shrugged it off.


“Hello, Mr. Do you want to play a game?” Bob didn't think much of it. She was a little girl, who knew no better than to talk to strangers. He would see to it that her parents took care of the situation. For now, he decided one little game would do him no harm. Oh, how wrong he was.


“Sure!” The girl led him to a quieter area, skipping happily past the swarm of people. She plopped down on the cement, and Bob quickly followed. He sat down on the cold cement, glad he wore long jeans that covered his legs.


The girl dropped the bag in front of him. She looked up at him, as if waiting for him to say something.


“So, what's your name?” Bob finally asked. The girl simply shrugged her shoulders.


“You'll know soon enough.” The response was quite odd. But Bob decided that it was just child humor. She was just being stubborn with the adults, like any other kid.


“Alright.” He smiled warmly at her. “So, what game are we playing?”


“I call it 'Deal'. First, we have to make a deal. Then we take a rock from this bag. If the rock is painted green, you win. If it's red, I win.” Simple enough, Bob decided. “The winner,” the girl continued, “gets both the satisfaction of winning." She hesitated a moment her eyes bright as she thought of another idea. "Oh! How about the winner gets everybody's life, except the loser, who must live the rest of his or her life alone." Now, Bob should have thought twice by now. All of these things just didn't add up. But once again, Bob shrugged it off. What harm could this girl do? She seemed innocent enough. It was just another child coming up with crazy ideas. Ah, the creativity of young people.


“Alright.” Bob reached down at the bag, but the girl slapped his hand away. She grabbed the bag and dumped the rocks out. All of them, about 20 small rocks, were painted bright green, except one. The single rock was painted scarlet red.


The girl looked up at Bob's blank expression, then placed the rocks back in the bag. She reached out her hand.


“Deal?” Bob was bit hesitant. He didn't know why. Something just wasn't right. Nothing was right since the beginning. But he gave in to the girls pleading eyes, waiting for him to shake her hand. Bob placed his hand into hers, and gave one quick shake.




“Good. You pick the rock.” Bob nodded his head and put his hand into the bag. He wiggled the rocks around, and picked one up. As he lifted his hand from the bag, surprise burned through him. The rock he had picked happened to be the single red rock. He laugh.


“Well, I guess you win. Congratulations!” But the girl didn't laugh, or even smile. Her gaze hardened with seriousness. Bob stopped, and tipped his head to the side.


“You lose.” The girl's words brought shivers down Bob's spine. Her voice was cold and hard, nothing like the innocent girl he had just met. “You know the deal. You shook on it. You must now suffer eternity alone.” Bob stared at the girl in surprise. His body quivered in fear.


“Wh...who are y-you? What is y-your name?” Bob whispered.


“You know who I am, Bob. You know you should never make a deal with me. Yet you did. Oh, Bob. When will you ever learn?”


It was then that the world before Bob turned scarlet red, like the rock he had pulled out of the bag. The red slowly faded away into nothingness.




Six months after the encounter, Bob sat in a dark room, still trying to get a grasp on what had happened. The girl was right; he did know who she was. It just took him time to realize it. He hadn't seen the girl since the encounter, and he didn't want to.


The young child had won. But she wasn't just a young child. He could sense that all along. He let his stupidity get the best of him, and now he just doesn't know what to do. Oh, why did he make that stupid deal? Now here he was, all alone. Not a single soul was beside him. All alone.


Bob closed his eyes as more tears began to stream down his face. Somebody! He pleaded silently. Help me!


Then the weirdest thing happened. Bob's eyes shot open. His heart began to pound through his chest. Sweat dripped down his face as he listened. H-how? I thought I was alone! Oh, but Bob was wrong. He's not alone. Somebody else was with him, watching him, listening to him. And now, this somebody else was at Bob's doorsteps. Here this somebody stood, knocking on the last man on earth's door.


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