Thud, thud, thud.
The three knocks were very rhythmic, unhurried but firm.
Wen Xishu quickly reached the door.
He remembered the rules: he could only observe the visitor through the peephole.
But the peephole was much smaller than Wen Xishu had expected. When he put his eye to it, he found nothing there but a field of white.
He suddenly had a bad feeling:
"Move the hand you're using to block the peephole."
The person outside did not comply and continued knocking, still in a very regular pattern: thud, thud, thud, three knocks.
But Wen Xishu suddenly felt uneasy.
The sound was like footsteps coming to claim his life.
He felt a chill spread through the room. It was summer; by all rights, he should not have felt cold.
Wen Xishu did not open the door. He truly did not dare.
Through the peephole, all he could see was white. He and the "thing" outside seemed to have reached a stalemate.
He had imagined many things the visitor might say to him. As long as there was a conversation, he could learn what it wanted, and once he knew that, he could exploit it.
That had been Wen Xishu's initial idea.
But now, that "sense of safety" of his had suddenly been torn apart.
The first of "them" he encountered seemed unable to speak at all. It only struck the door: "thud," "thud," "thud."
The door trembled slightly.
Wen Xishu had to take a step back and chamber a round in the gun he held.
He could hear it now: that "thud" was actually different from the crisp sound of knocking.
It sounded somewhat muffled.
As though... as though it were banging its head against the door.
"If this door can be broken down by brute force... isn't that a