In the suburb of Zwartkop, there is an old abandoned house. No one ever goes near it, because everyone says it’s haunted.

One day, myself and a few friends went to a coffee shop. We sat there for hours talking about haunted houses. Three of us boasted that we were not afraid of anything.

“Oh yeah?” asked one of my friends daringly. “Since you’re not afraid of anything, why don’t you go and spend a night in that old abandoned house!?” Too proud to admit that we were afraid, we agreed to spend that very night in the old abandoned house.

We arrived at the house at dusk. Giggling and terrified. We checked every room together and found nothing out of the ordinary. We spent most of the night talking nonsense to each other. When we all grew tired, we decided to spread out our sleeping bags on the floor of the main bedroom upstairs.

Sleep did not come easy. We all managed to doze off, but not long after slumber called to us, we heard a noise from downstairs. All three of us sat up, clearly we had all heard the noise. The hair on my neck was raised and I was terrified.

We shushed each other and then we heard a voice:

“I am bloody knuckle! I am in the living room!”

We looked at each other and decided it was one of our friends playing a prank on us. We attempted to laugh it off.

But then we heard it a little bit louder:

“I am bloody knuckle! I am at the bottom of the stairs!”

“Let’s just ignore it and go to sleep, soon it will be morning” I suggested to my friends. We all agreed and attempted to go back to sleep.

But then even louder we hear:

“I am bloody knuckle! I am at the top of the stairs!”

We all huddled together at this point, and we could still hear this figure come closer.

“I am bloody knuckle! I am in the hall!”

Fear-ridden, we attempted to hide in the cupboard.

“I am Bloody Knuckle! I am at the bedroom door!”

Frozen in fear and eyes wide, unable to blink. We hear the bedroom door creak open.

“I am Bloody Knuckle! I am in the bedroom!”

The figure paused in the middle of the room, confused. I sneezed and the figure approached the cupboard and slowly opened the door…

“I am Bloody Knuckle!” he paused “Do you perhaps have a plaster? My knuckle doesn’t seem to want to stop bleeding.”