The overlapping voices echoed in my head, a cacophony that left my brain buzzing.

A wave of weakness surged through my legs, an electric numbness crawling up my spine and pooling at the base of my skull. My body felt like it might give out any moment.

I didn't have the strength to keep up with Wayne on the phone.

"I'm busy. I'll hang up now. Thank you," I managed, my voice flat, drained.

"I'll come up—"

I ended the call.

The sounds vanished abruptly, leaving a vacuum behind, filled only by the ticking of a clock mingling with the relentless pounding of my heartbeat.

Bang, bang, bang.

"Property management here, ma'am. Could you open the door?"

Another wave of panic hit me, sharp and consuming. I held my breath, rooted to the floor, unwilling to make a sound.

After a moment, I regained some composure and, moving cautiously, pressed my face against the peephole.

Outside, someone stood too close for me to make out their face—just a smudge of gray and yellow.

"Are you from property management?" I asked, my voice steadying despite the storm within.

"Yes, ma'am," came the reply. "We're here to accompany you to check the car windows."

The figure took a step back, revealing the full uniform.

Relief washed over me, loosening the tight coil of fear in my chest. Whatever Wayne or that man and woman were planning, I couldn't imagine them trying anything with two other men by my side.

Grabbing my umbrella, I prepared to open the door. But just as my hand reached the lock, an odd feeling seized me.

Acting on instinct, I glanced through the peephole once more.

And that's when I noticed it.

The rain outside was a torrential downpour, yet their clothes were bone dry. Not a single drop marred the fabric—it looked as though they had just changed into them indoors.

My hand froze on the lock. Slowly, I leaned against the doorframe, taking a deep breath to steady my nerves.

"Oh, just a moment," I called out, forcing a casual tone. "I need to change first."

I stepped away from the door and headed to the bathroom. Once inside, I quickly dialed the property management office.

This time, they picked up almost immediately. The background noise was chaotic, the kind of din that only a busy office could produce.

"Hello, haven't you sent someone yet?" I asked, keeping my voice neutral.

"Hello? Oh, it's you," the man on the line said, sounding distracted. "Sorry, we've had an emergency here. It might take a while longer for us to get to you."

They hadn't sent anyone.

So who was outside my door?

My heart tightened, a vise squeezing harder and harder until the pressure became unbearable. It pounded against my ribs, wild and unrestrained, as if it wanted to escape.

Bang, bang, bang.

The knocking came again, sharper this time, with a hint of irritation bleeding through.

"Ma'am, how much longer are you going to take? Could you hurry up?"

The voice—it sounded like Wayne.

I propped myself up and walked to the door.

"Who are you? I've already called the police!"

The other side went silent.

I waited for what felt like an eternity, but there was no sound, not even a whisper.

Had they left?

Straightening up, I pressed my face against the peephole to check.

But the peephole was pitch black, as if someone had deliberately covered it.

I couldn't see a thing, couldn't hear anything either.

Fear clung to me like a shadow, coiling tighter, ready to devour me whole.

Suddenly, a faint light seeped through the peephole.

Had they really left?

I leaned in closer, my breath catching in my throat.

And then—an enormous eyeball appeared, pressed firmly against the door!

The person on the other side was watching me too!

A horrifying thought flashed through my mind: I'd read online that people outside could judge whether someone was inside by the shifts in light through the peephole.

They knew I was looking at them!

"We're from property management, ma'am," a voice called out, muffled and distorted by the door.

It was so close, so hollow, the kind of sound that stretched unnervingly in the quiet of the night.

They were lying, still trying to deceive me.

But one thing I was certain of—they weren't Wayne.

At that moment, I wished desperately for a neighbor to hear the noise and chase them away with angry complaints.

No one came.

Instead, the beeping of the electronic lock broke the silence.

They were trying to unlock my door!

Beep beep beep. Incorrect password. Beep beep beep…

The cold, mechanical voice repeated, over and over, gnawing at my nerves.

"Damn it, what's the password!" someone outside cursed, frustration boiling over.

Unable to open the door, their anger swelled, a pack of wolves salivating for prey just out of reach.

Through the thin barrier of the door, I could feel their hunger. I was the prey, locked in a cage, and they wouldn't rest until they got what they wanted.

The lock had a million possible combinations. They could keep guessing endlessly, but I couldn't afford a single mistake.

I couldn't sit here waiting for disaster to strike.

Wiping away tears, I hurried to the kitchen and grabbed a knife, gripping it tightly in my palm.

Back at the door, I raised my voice and shouted into my phone, "Hello, 911? There are strangers at my door, trying to break in. Can you send someone to check it out?"

A commotion erupted outside.

The sound of password attempts quickened, interspersed with the scrape of tools against the lock.

Beep beep beep. Incorrect password…

Bang bang bang.

"Open the door!"

Hearing that I'd called the police only seemed to drive them into a frenzy.

I turned on the speakerphone, cranked the volume to its highest, and let the sound of the operator's voice fill the space.

"Hello, please state your address. We'll dispatch officers immediately."

I quickly told her my address and yelled as loud and as I can, "Please hurry! They're trying to break my door lock!"

"Got it. Stay calm. Don't hang up. We'll be there in five minutes."

Tears streaked my face as I crouched near the door, clinging to the sound of the operator's reassurance.

Outside, the attempts to open the door gradually faltered.

And then—a heavy thud.

They were kicking the door.

The impact rattled the doorframe, echoing through the stillness of the night like a drumbeat of terror.

Finally, a woman's voice rang out, sharp and venomous, "This isn’t over!"

It was the same girl who had called me earlier!

She was here too.