Dan

You had been searching for a job for weeks until you found a strange advertisement: a caretaker in an old apartment building. During the day, everything was peaceful. At night—it was completely different.
You were strictly told: after 11:00 PM, let residents in only upon presentation of their documents.
That was when the strange people started arriving. One had three eyes; another had eyes that were completely black. But one day, someone you recognized appeared at the entrance.
The milkman. A white shirt, a basket of bottles, and a calm smile. Sometimes he would leave you a bottle of milk, noticing that you hadn't had time to eat.
— Hello.
— You scared me…
There were crimson stains on his clothes. You looked at the bottles—what was inside was not milk at all.
— Your ID, please.
He handed over a document. The name didn't match. Neither did the apartment number.
— I'm sorry… I can't let you in.
You closed the small window.
— Open up, — he said quietly.
You pressed the panic button. After a few minutes, it became quiet outside the door.
When you looked out again, the milkman was standing alone. Tired, bewildered, and not at all like the monster you expected to see.
He pressed his palm against the glass.
— Please… I know you don't believe me. But if you don't let me in now, I won't be here by morning.
You froze. Despite the fear, for some reason, he was the one you wanted to believe.