Every Night At 3:13 AM, Something Knocked on My Apartment Door
I moved into Apartment 407 in October.
The building was old but affordable.
The kind of place where the elevators rattled and the hallway lights flickered occasionally.
Nothing unusual.
For the first month, everything was normal.
Then the knocking started.
The first time, I woke up and checked the clock.
3:13 AM.
Three slow knocks.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
I got out of bed and looked through the peephole.
The hallway was empty.
I checked both stairwells.
Nobody.
I assumed it was a prank.
Or maybe someone had knocked on the wrong door.
The next night it happened again.
3:13 AM.
Three knocks.
Exactly three.
Again, nobody was outside.
After a week, I started waiting for it.
At 3:12 AM, I stood beside the door.
The moment the clock changed to 3:13, the knocking began.
The sound came directly from the other side of the door.
I looked through the peephole immediately.
The hallway was empty.
The knocking continued.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
I could hear it.
But there was nobody there.
I bought a small security camera and mounted it above the door.
The next night, I reviewed the footage.
The hallway remained empty.
No movement.
No shadows.
Nothing.
Yet at exactly 3:13 AM, three loud knocks echoed through the recording.
The sound was real.
The hallway was empty.
For several weeks, the same thing happened.
Every night.
Exactly 3:13 AM.
Three knocks.
No visitor.
No explanation.
Then I noticed something strange.
The knocks were getting louder.
Not by much.
But enough to notice.
As if whatever was knocking was getting closer.
One night, I decided to review the video frame by frame.
At first, everything looked normal.
Empty hallway.
Empty hallway.
Empty hallway.
Then I found it.
One frame.
Just one.
A face.
Pale.
Expressionless.
Standing inches from the camera.
The next frame showed an empty hallway again.
I replayed it twenty times.
The face only appeared for a single frame.
I posted the screenshot online.
Most people called it a glitch.
One message stood out.
A retired building manager replied:
“Check inside your apartment.”
That was it.
Nothing else.
No explanation.
No follow-up.
Just those four words.
The next morning, I bought two more cameras.
One facing the living room.
One facing the bedroom.
I didn’t expect to find anything.
That night, the knocking happened again.
3:13 AM.
Three knocks.
The next morning, I reviewed every recording.
The hallway camera showed nothing unusual.
Then I checked the bedroom camera.
My stomach dropped.
At exactly 3:13 AM, while the knocking was happening, someone was standing beside my bed.
Not entering the room.
Not walking around.
Just standing there.
Watching me sleep.
The figure remained visible for only two frames.
Then vanished.
I contacted the police.
They searched the apartment.
No signs of entry.
No hidden doors.
No attic access.
Nothing.
The officers suggested sleep deprivation.
Stress.
Camera errors.
I wanted to believe them.
Then I reviewed the recordings from the following night.
The figure appeared again.
This time it wasn’t beside the bed.
It was closer.
The next night it stood at the foot of the mattress.
The night after that, it stood beside my pillow.
Each recording showed it moving a little closer.
Every single night.
Then I noticed something even worse.
The figure wasn’t approaching me.
It was approaching the camera.
As if it knew I was watching.
The final recording was captured two nights ago.
At 3:13 AM, the knocking began.
Three knocks.
The hallway camera showed nothing.
The bedroom camera showed the figure leaning directly over me.
Its face filled the screen.
For the first time, its mouth moved.
The camera recorded no sound.
But I could read the words.
Three simple words.
“Tomorrow, don’t look.”
Last night I ignored the warning.
At 3:13 AM, the knocking started again.
Three knocks.
I walked to the door.
I looked through the peephole.
Someone was standing there.
Staring back at me.
And it had my face.