*The Secret of Elegance Hostel — Part 2: The One Who Knocked*  

“...let me in. I'm cold.”  

The words slithered under the door like smoke. Adaeze’s phone torch shook so hard the beam jumped across all six faces — Fatima, Chisom, Tolu, Kemi, Amaka, and Zainab. All present. All accounted for.  

“No be joke o,” Kemi whispered, clutching her rosary. “Everybody dey here. So who dey outside?”  

_Knock. Knock. KNOCK._  

The third round rattled the hinges. The sound wasn’t from knuckles. It was too heavy. Like someone was using the back of their wrist. Or a heel.  

Zainab’s eyes darted to the floor. Her red heel. Only one was on her shoe rack. The other had vanished 3 days ago after that weird power outage.  

“Maybe na dream,” Tolu said, but her voice cracked. “Pinch me.”  

“Shhh!” Adaeze hissed. The torch beam snapped to the bottom of the door.  

Water was seeping in. Not rainwater. This was dark, slow, and it smelled like rust. Like old pipes. Like…  

“Blood?” Amaka breathed.  

Then the voice changed. It dropped an octave, older, rougher. It sounded like Mrs. Ijeoma. But Mrs. Ijeoma was 60, had arthritis, and slept in the BQ behind the generator house. She couldn’t climb the stairs this fast.  

“Open this door, Zainab. You have something that belongs to me.”  

Zainab’s throat closed up. The note from last night. The red dress. The missing heel. How did it know?  

Fatima stood up, iron rod shaking in her grip. “If you be human, talk with your chest! If you be spirit, Holy Ghost—”  

The doorknob turned. Slowly. 360 degrees. But the bolt was still locked from inside.  

Then came the worst sound: a _wet_ laugh. “You locked me out once before, 1973. Won’t happen again.”  

1973.  

Lightning cracked and for one split second, the phone torch caught it — a shadow under the door. Not feet. The shadow was on _all fours_. And it was crawling _backward_, away from the door, into the dark corridor.  

The lights blazed back on. Too bright. Blinding.  

The knocking stopped. The water was gone. The floor was bone dry.  

But in the middle of their room, placed neatly on Zainab’s bunk… was the missing red heel.  

Soaking wet. And ice cold.