The three Loud knocks

When I was a junior in College I lived in a fraternity house with 40+ other guys. As you can imagine, getting any personal time for studying, relaxing or just peace and quiet was beyond rare. That December before Christmas break one of my friends suggested we drive a few hours North (I went to school in Michigan) to their family's cottage where we could all just unwind before final exams and the much needed winter break. As we drove up to the cottage it was picturesque: snow softly falling, beautiful trees surrounding the property, frozen lake illuminated by the cottage exterior lights - it was just what we needed. Think of a Thomas Kincade painting. As cliched as it sounds, his family had been coming up to this lake for a number of years and had only recently (within the past five years or so) purchased this place from an elderly couple that has passed and had lived there their entire lives. Throughout his child hood, they would alway pass by this house and remark that it was haunted. Since the folks that lived there were retired they weren't as active as the other lake dwellers, and being that their home sat a little further off the water and was canopied by trees, it always seemed to be in the shadows and never in the sun which gave it that additional spooky look and feel. When the couple did ultimately pass, his family purchased it with the intension of building a more modern lake house in its stead. But I digress. So we pull into the driveway and trudged up the walkway through six inches of soft, powdery snow. Once we got inside, we immediately start to unload our groceries and start the dinner process of which I was in charge of. The place was cozy, warm and something you'd expect an older person's home to look and feel like. A fire was started warming the place and I had just started cooking some steaks and shrimp in the kitchen. As college kids, you can imagine the excitement and luxury we felt when we opened their freezer and saw it was stocked with steaks, shrimp, chicken...we had been living on mac and cheese so this was something we were even more excited about! I had just mixed a drink, the fire was warm and the radio was on. We couldn't have been happier. To set the scene and layout of the property: the house was sitting about 50 yards from the water and on a slight hill. The nearest neighbor was over 1/2 a mile away and the drive up was about 300 yards from the road. So we were nestled back in relative isolation. There had also been a steady snowfall that evening so there was about 6-8 inches of snow surrounding the house and covering the deck - so if, let's say, a squirrel had walked up to the house its tracks would have been easily seen as the exterior lights illuminated the entire exterior - even sensor lights were installed along the side walkway. We felt as safe as one could be. It was nearing 9pm and we were starting to really feel it and unwind. We poured another drink and the food was nearly done. The smell of cooked steak wafted through the house. We all had these smiles on our faces knowing we were living the life while the other guys back at school were living on top of each other and dealing with the nightly chaos only a gaggle of college boys living under one roof can create. The juxtaposition was stark and we couldn't have been happier. Dinner was nearing being finished and The Police's "Every little thing she does is magic" was on the radio. This was 1994 so no iPod etc. We were old school and tuned into the local radio station. The days when you felt that extra tingle when the station played a song you loved. Like you and the DJ were on the same page with what good music is. We were feeling it right when the song was feeling it too. We cranked the volume and started dancing around. Life couldn't get any better. A nice buzz, a great meal on the way, in a cozy tucked away cabin, holiday's on the way, a roaring fire...as a young man who grew up modestly it was one of those moments. Until it wasn't. As we cranked the volume up to, we'll just say pretty loud, we heard the three loudest knocks on the back door it stopped us (and The Police probably) right in our tracks. It was so obvious someone was at the back door we all just stared at each other with scared, confused looks. Who in their right mind was out on a winter night and at our door? Who could we possibly be disturbing? A chill ran through me immediately because no matter who was at the door it wasn't a good thing. My friend - who's family owned the place - ran to the back door and came roaring back and with a look of sheer terror on his face and said, "someone's in the house." The back door was slightly open and someone had slipped in the house. I can't describe the fear that gripped me. We panicked and froze. What should we do? Grab the fireplace poker? A kitchen knife? What was this person's intension? What were they armed with? Why had they knocked and announced their presence only to slip into a hiding place? I can't stress how loud the knocks on the door were. It wasn't one of those, "did you hear that" moments. It was a needle off the record moment when you all arrive at the same thought at the same time and realize something bad is about to happen. We all caught our breath and did a room to room search armed with household items like mentioned above. By the time we got back to the main room with the fireplace we glanced outside to see where the snow tracks originated from. Expecting to see snow prints from the road - or heaven forbid the woods - we were stunned to find that the snow was undisturbed. The back deck where the door was slightly open showed no sign of anyone that had walked up. The steps, the deck itself, the walkway leading up were all covered with the 6-8 inches of fresh snow. No one had approached the house from any direction. What the heck was going on here? Whatever it was, there was no person in the house. We were stuck in a cabin with something that was very upset about us disturbing them. We quickly all surmised that the old couple that had once lived there wasn't happy about their nightly routine being replaced with loud music and dancing kids. This insight offered us little comfort. After we finished dinner, we all slept in the master bedroom on the same bed. The idea of being alone and disturbing whatever lurked in that house was too frightening. The night came and went without incident. Almost as if the ghost had made its point and was smug in knowing how much we were afraid. In the morning we packed up and drove out of there in a hurried manner. In the daylight we all looked back at the snow surrounding the house. It was as pristine as the night before. Not a flake seemed out of place. I will never forget those three knocks.