Two weeks, he’d been on this job. Two weeks, and already it was beginning to get to Max.

“It’ll be easy!” His new coworker, Greg, had insisted. “You can just sleep all night, and no one will know. Hell, I wish I still worked the overnight.”

But from the first night he’d come in to work at that old house full of creaky stairs and peeling doors, Max had found himself unable to sleep a wink. It was supposed to be simple, make his rounds, then sit and read a book until it was time to make his rounds again. The noises though. Soft moans throughout the building. Bumps and jolts in the night. Dripping water, clicking heaters. Greg, who was always on time to relieve him in the morning, had warned him about the building’s ghost. About its insatiable appetite for unsuspecting souls. Max didn’t believe in ghosts.

Max held his flashlight tight, gazing over the waist-high banister to the first floor landing, three stories down. Vertigo set in, making that tattered old carpet below zoom in and out of focus. He closed his eyes and waited for the nausea to pass.

Three minutes.

Like clockwork, every night, he’d hear a sound in the distance. The ringing of a bell, exactly three times, always at 3:05AM.

Two minutes.

It had shocked him the first night, but he’d quickly put it to the back of his mind. When it happened again the next night, he’d scoured every inch of the house looking for the culprit. He’d even tried opening the last door on the top floor where he could swear the sound was coming from. The door was enormous, with just a hint of light peaking out from under it. It wouldn’t budge.

One minute.

Max sucked in a deep breath as he checked his watch. He was determined to find the source tonight. His one job was to protect the house, and that was what he was going to do.

Ding ding ding

There it was! He turned his flashlight toward that great big door, cautiously stepping toward it. He placed his ear against it. There was a sudden skittering, and something slammed into the door from the other side. Max cried out, dropping his flashlight, which rolled down the stairs.

Bang

His breath hitched as he felt the door actually move.

BANG

Max stumbled backward with a yell, his heart in his throat as he tripped, unable to catch his balance. He felt like he was falling in slow-motion, over the wooden banister, down three stories, landing with a sickening crunch on the bottom floor.

Hours later, Greg arrived for his morning shift.  Upon seeing Max’s body, Greg shook his head.

“So young.  I warned him.” He glanced up at the door on the third floor, which was swung wide open. 

“Well, I hope you enjoyed your meal,” Greg muttered, grabbing the shovel.