The Thing in the Kitchen is a scary story about a young woman who suspects that someone or something is trying to get into her apartment.
It was Friday and after I finished work, I went home to my little apartment. I opened a can of dog food for my pet dog, Mr. Poopington and then cooked myself some dinner. Afterwards, I made myself a cup of tea, then settled down on the couch to watch some TV.
It was just before midnight and I was waiting for my favorite show to start when the doorbell suddenly rang.
“Who could that be at this time of night?” I thought.
I went to the front door and looked through the peephole, but there was no one outside. I was about to open the door and check the corridor to see what was going on, but something stopped me in my tracks.
It was like some kind of sixth sense screaming at me, “Do not open the door”. Maybe my head was filled with too many horror stories written by superstitious teeangers. Instead, I just laughed it off and went back to the TV.
As soon as I sat down on the couch, the doorbell rang again. This time, it was more insistant. I went out and looked through the peephole again. I didn’t see anybody outside, but the doorbell kept ringing. When I opened the door the ringing suddenly ceased.
Outside, the corridor was pitch black and I couldn’t see a thing. I checked the bell, but there didn’t seem to be anything wrong with it. All of a sudden, as I peered into the darkness, a chill ran down my spine. I felt a presence in the hallway, as if I was being watched and it frightened me. I quickly ran back inside and slammed the door.
I tried to shrug it off and told myself it was just my imagination. Shaking my head, I went back to the living room and sat down in front of the TV.
After a while, I began to doze off, but I was suddenly awakened by a low growling noise. It sounded like it was coming from the kitchen. At first, I thought it was just my pet dog, Mr. Poopington, but when I glanced over at the armchair, I saw he was curled up, asleep. The growling sound was definitely coming from the kitchen.
I went to the kitchen door and listened. The noise suddenly stopped. Just as I was about to open the door, I heard heavy footsteps walking across the kitchen floor. I was very scared and I quickly grabbed a chair and wedged it under the door handle so it couldn’t be opened from the other side.
All night, I sat there in the living room, trembling with fear and keeping one eye on the kitchen door. I felt like I was trapped in my own apartment. I was afraid of what was outside in the corridor and I was afraid of what was inside in the kitchen.
Around 9:30 AM, the doorbell started ringing again. I was petrified with fear and I tried to ignore it. Then, all of a sudden, my cell phone began to ring. It was my friend Ludmilla. I picked it up and sighed with relief when I heard her voice.
“Are you home?” she asked. “I keep ringing your doorbell. Why don’t you answer?”
She had come to visit me and was waiting outside. I opened the door and let her in. I was so glad to see her, I gave aher a big hug. Then, we went into the living room and I told her everything that had happened the night before.
“Oh come on, Melania,” she said. “You’re just too stressed out. Your mind is playing tricks on you. Maybe you’re working too hard in the office.”
“Well I have been working very long hours,” I said. “I guess you’re right.”
But just in case, I decided to spend the night with her.
The next morning, when I returned home, I was feeling much better. I took the chair away from the kitchen door and opened it. The kitchen was empty. I breathed a sigh of relief and make myself a cup of tea. In the cold light of day, all my fears seemed so silly and unfounded.
I spent the rest of the day sitting at the kitchen table, going through some papers for work. I had to prepare a presentation I was going to give in the office the next day.
Around 11 PM, I was feeling tired and it was time to go to sleep. Just as I was about to get up from my chair, the electrictiy suddenly went out and I was plunged into darkness.
I sat there in the pitch black and I didn’t move a muscle. In the farthest corner of the kitchen, I saw something moving. It looked like a person’s silhouette.
I jumped out of my chair and rushed out of the room at full speed. I slammed the door behind me and propped a chair under the door handle. Then, I took out my phone and called Ludmilla.
“I beg you!” I cried. “Come quickly! I’m afraid! There’s something in the kitchen!”
It was around 11 PM and I was just about to go to bed when my phone started ringing. It was my best friend Melania. She was in a panic ands she was crying into the phone. It was difficult to make out what she was saying. She was babbling about some thing in the kitchen.
I tried to calm her down, but she was just so frightened she couldn’t. I told her I would come over right away.
Then, all of a sudden, she let out a horrified scream and the phone went dead. It made my blood run cold. I tried to call her back, but there was no answer. So, I grabbed my keys and drove over to her apartment.
When I stepped out of the elevator, I noticed that her front door was standing open. Cautiously, I went inside. All of the lights were off and there was an eerie silence. Taking out my mobile phone, I used it as a flashlight and made my way to the kitchen.
As soon as I opened the kitchen door, I froze in my tracks. My heart stood still.
Melania was hanging there in front of me, her body swaying softly back and forth. There was a rope around her neck. Her face was purple and her tongue was hanging out. I burst into tears. It was clear she was dead.
Then, I noticed a note clutched in her hand. I opened it up. It read: “You’re next”.