Later, though confounded, the boy hit the road back home. As usual, upon arrival at the doorway, he put away his shoes, passed through the long, narrow hallway, and walked up to his room. It seemed that today was nothing different from any other day. After shower, as he dried his hair, the boy started to review the day's happenings. Although he believed in no supernatural entities, however, he still crossed his fingers, hoping that what happened to him, just as the wish he made, would not fall on stony ground. At the stroke of midnight, when the boy was sleeping sound and deep, the noice of turning the doorknob jolted him awake. He stepped downstairs, walked through the dark, lengthy gallery, and came up to the door. He asked who it was, but there was no response. He drew near the door, all ears, and then heard the sound of drops hitting the floor. Next, along with mud and sand, a puddle of water, blending with dark, coagulated blood, slowly flowed into the door crack underneath. --

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