It was 11:38 p.m. on a Tuesday when Ethan Green heard the knock. Three deliberate raps on the front door of his small rental house in the quiet, forgettable town of Hayfield.
He sat frozen on his worn-out couch, a half-empty beer bottle resting on the coffee table next to a plate of cold pizza. Outside, rain tapped against the windows, soft and rhythmic, like fingers drumming.
The knock came again, louder this time.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Ethan leaned forward, squinting at the door. "What the hell..."
The neighborhood was dead silent at this hour. His nearest neighbor, old Mr. Wilkes, was a shut-in, and the only other house on the street was vacant. Nobody just... stopped by unannounced in Hayfield.
He stood up cautiously, heart thudding in his chest. He wasn't afraid of much, but something about the timing and the sound of that knock—it wasn't normal.
"Who is it?" he called, his voice cracking slightly.
No response.
He crept toward the door, his socked feet silent on the hardwood floor. He unlocked it but left the chain on, opening it just a crack.
And there she was.
A woman in her early thirties stood on his porch, soaking wet. Her dark hair clung to her pale face, and her clothes were plastered to her body from the rain. She didn't shiver, though. Didn't look cold. Didn't even blink.
"Can I help you?" Ethan asked, his voice sharper than intended.
She tilted her head slightly, water dripping from her chin. Then she spoke in a voice so calm it felt rehearsed. "Can you give me a glass of water?"
Ethan blinked. "What?"
"A glass of water," she repeated. "I need a glass of water."
Her voice was flat and emotionless, but something about it made Ethan's stomach tighten. She didn't look like a lost traveler or someone in trouble—she looked like she belonged here like she'd been standing on his porch for hours, waiting for him to answer.
"Lady, it's raining buckets out here. Don't you think you've got enough water?"
Her lips twitched, almost a smile. "I need fresh water."
Ethan didn't know what to say. "Are you... lost or something?"
"No."
"Then why—"
"Just a glass," she interrupted. "It's all I need."
Ethan hesitated, his hand still gripping the door. He thought about slamming it shut. But there was something about her eyes. They weren't pleading. They weren't desperate. They were... hungry.
"Fine," he muttered. "Wait here."
He closed the door and flipped the deadbolt out of instinct, his pulse racing as he headed to the kitchen. The faucet squeaked as he turned it on, filling a clean glass with tap water.
When he returned to the door and opened it—
She was gone.
The porch was empty. The rain continued to fall, but the spot where she had stood was dry. Bone dry.
Ethan didn't sleep that night. Every time he closed his eyes, he heard her voice. "Give me a glass of water."
The next morning, he walked down to the diner where his friend Colin worked the early shift. They were old high school buddies, bonded over beer and boredom, the only two guys who hadn't left Hayfield after graduation.
Colin slid a coffee mug across the counter. "You look like shit."
"Didn't sleep." Ethan sipped the coffee, staring into the black surface.
"Bad dreams?" Colin asked.
"Not exactly." Ethan hesitated, then told him about the woman. Her soaked clothes, her strange request, the way she disappeared.
Colin frowned. "You sure you weren't dreaming, man? Nobody's knocking on doors in the middle of the night around here. Not unless they're crazy or..." He trailed off, tapping his chin.
"Or what?"
"You remember the old story about the Water Woman?" Colin asked, lowering his voice.
Ethan frowned. "No, and I don't want to."
"Come on, you gotta remember. Every kid in Hayfield heard it. Some lady drowned in the river back in the 80s. They never found her body, just her wedding ring floating downstream. Folks say she still shows up on rainy nights, looking for—"
"Cut the crap," Ethan snapped, pushing the coffee mug away. "It was a real person, okay? Not some stupid ghost story."
Colin raised his hands defensively. "Alright, alright. Don't get your panties in a twist. Just saying, if she comes back, maybe don't open the door."
That night, Ethan sat on the couch, staring at the door. He hadn't planned to stay up, but something kept him rooted there. His stomach churned with unease like he was waiting for something.
At exactly 11:38 p.m., the sink in his kitchen turned on.
He jumped to his feet, heart hammering. The faucet was gushing, water spilling over the edge of the sink. He rushed in and shut it off, his hands trembling.
And then he heard it.
"Give me a glass of water."
The voice came from behind him.
Ethan spun around, his back hitting the counter. She was there, standing in his living room, dripping wet.
"How the hell did you get in here?!" he shouted.
She didn't answer. She just stared, her eyes dark and hollow. "A glass of water."
"I... I don't understand what you want!"
"Water," she repeated. Her voice echoed strangely as if layered over itself.
Ethan grabbed the nearest thing he could find—a steak knife from the counter. "Get out of my house!"
But she didn't move. Instead, she pointed to the sink.
Water began to drip from the faucet again.
The water wouldn't stop. It poured from the faucet, faster and faster, until it overflowed the sink and spread across the floor. Ethan tried shutting off the valve, but it wouldn't budge.
"Stop it!" he yelled at her.
She smiled now, her teeth gleaming like pearls. "It's already too late."
"What's too late?!"
The water reached his ankles, then his knees. It was rising unnaturally fast as if the house itself was filling like a glass.
"You invited me in," she whispered, her voice crackling like static. "You let me drink."
"I didn't—"
"You did."
By the time the water reached the ceiling, Ethan was struggling to keep his head above it. The woman floated inches away, her eyes glowing faintly in the dark water.
"You should've stayed thirsty," she said softly.
And then he was underwater, choking, the world dissolving into silence.
Who was the woman, and why did she target Ethan?....
The End
Let Me Come In - A Horror & Action Thriller - https://storylinespectrum.blogspot.com/2025/02/let-me-come-in-horror-action-thriller.html
📜 Copyright Notice & Caution to Readers 📜
© 2025 Abrar Nayeem Chowdhury. All Rights Reserved.
This Story, "Thirst", including its title, storyline, characters, settings, dialogues, and original content, is protected under the United States Copyright Act (Title 17, U.S. Code) and international copyright laws.
⚠️ Unauthorized Use is Strictly Prohibited
Any unauthorized copying, reproduction, distribution, adaptation, or resale of this work—whether in print, digital, audio, or film format—without written permission from the author/publisher is strictly prohibited and may result in legal action under U.S. copyright law and DMCA (Digital Millennium Copyright Act) provisions.
⚠️ No AI, Fanfiction, or Commercial Use Without Permission
- This work may not be used for AI training, machine learning datasets, or automated text generation without express written consent from the copyright holder.
- Creating derivative works, including fanfiction, adaptations, scripts, or spin-offs, requires legal authorization.
- Commercial use, including paid promotions, film rights, merchandising, or translations, is strictly prohibited without a licensing agreement.
📩 For Permissions & Licensing
For inquiries regarding film rights, adaptations, audiobook production, or other permissions, contact:
📧 motivationbeast74@gmail.com
⚠️ Plagiarism is a Crime. Respect Intellectual Property.
Thank you for supporting original storytelling. 🙌📖🔥
Comments
Post a Comment