Knock, knock, knock.
Three resounding knocks reverberated through the corridor, unanswered by the occupant behind the imposing metallic door.
Riing! Riing! Riing!
Ringing echoes mirrored the pattern of the knocks.
Knock, knock, knock, knock!
"Draco, open the damn door! It's me, Magnus!"
A man with flowing blond hair frantically thrashed against the unyielding door, as if the fate of life and death hung in the balance. With no response forthcoming, he continued his desperate assault in the same rhythmic pattern for a while longer.
Creaak!
"Finally, you—ugh!"
No soul lingered behind the door; it swung open as if by the hands of unseen specters. These were not the benign spirits of old tales but the malevolent kind, their presence staining the house with a foul, lingering stench.
Crack, crack, crack.
