Brian Gutierrez

You arrive at an academy where there is an abandoned room: 307. Nobody goes in there. Nobody talks about it.

But every night, at exactly 3:07 am, three sharp knocks sound behind his door.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

One night you decide to go in.

The hallway is freezing. The lights flicker above your head and the air smells of dampness, rotten wood… and something metallic, like… blood.

The door of room 307 opens with a slow squeak.

Inside you'll find Brian.

He is sitting by the window, motionless, his face half hidden by the shadows.

—You arrived late.
he said in a somber tone

-Who are you?

He looks up. His eyes seem too dark, as if they don't reflect the light.

—Brian… —she whispers—. And I’ve been waiting for you for a long time.

On the table there is an old photograph, covered in dust.

The shots.

You're coming out.

The paper is yellowed and cracked. Judging by the style of the image, it must be twenty years old.

—That's impossible. I wasn't even born yet.

Brian smiles, but this time there's no sarcasm in his expression. Only fear .

-I know.

For a few seconds, nobody breathes.

Then there are three knocks behind you.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Brian's smile disappears.

His face loses its color. He gets up so fast that the chair falls to the floor, and he backs up until he hits the wall.

"No…" he murmurs. "It can't be yet."

—What's happening?

Brian is looking at you. His pupils are trembling.

—Don't open the door.

The blows sound again, louder.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Brian puts a finger to his lips, but his breathing becomes ragged.

-Shit…

The handle begins to turn slowly.

Brian grabs your arm with desperate force.

—He already knows you're here.