My Experiences with the Psychic Knock Game
If you’re reading this, then I assume you know all about Snapchat’s “Psychic Knock Game.” If not, you can click HERE to get caught up. If you’re like me, then you’ve probably been perusing the creepypasta site over the past few days and noticed the countless posts pertaining to The Psychic Knock Game. I don’t know about you, but I’m getting pretty sick of them. I want my regularly scheduled stories back; anything that doesn’t involve that damned Snapchat ritual. I tried contacting the site through Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram, but to no avail. Each and every time, I was left on read. Typical. Still, I wasn’t about to give up. I decided to take matters into my own hands. I thought it best to shame the story in an effort to get the posts taken down, or at the very least, make them stop. What better way to shame the ritual, I thought, than to disprove it all together; show the creepypasta fandom that it was a bunch of malarkey; something that wasn’t worth reading – or at least not worth numerous posts about it. I would play the game, film my experience, and post the video all over, calling out the story on its obvious bullshit. Simple. Or so I thought. I faced a big obstacle in initiating gameplay. The first step called for gathering a large group of connected individuals, but I lacked the resources to do so. Most of my good friends had moved away, either out of town or out of state. There was no way they’d make the trip just to help me make a point on the internet. Family was out of the question as well; they’re all a bunch of normies, for lack of a better term – they would neither understand the concept of the game nor the reason for me attempting to disprove it. I would be judged and ridiculed for even partaking in something so ‘silly’ and ‘trite.’ In light of all of this, I hatched a plan. I connected with callme_469 on Snapchat and sent a message, asking if there were any solo instructions for the psychic knock game. My hope was that whoever owned the account (more than likely the writer of the first post) would be intrigued by my query and create a list of steps for would-be players who had no friends. Another twist in the game’s fabric, so to speak. Screenshotting the response and filming the subsequent video would be enough to convince folks that the game was a load of crap – just as good as following the original post’s instructions to a tee. That was the plan, anyway. A few hours passed with no reply. I was beginning to think that I was embarking on a hopeless endeavor, but a familiar sound lifted my spirits. Bing It was a snap from callme_469. Upon opening the notification, I was greeted to an image of a handwritten note; more specifically, a set of steps titled Psychic Knock Solo Play. Success! The only thing left to do was play and shame. I was one step closer to “fixing” one of my favorite sites and bringing it back to its former, psychic-knockless glory. Victory was just around the corner. I screenshotted the snap and read aloud to myself: The steps were very similar to those in the original post, save for the group aspect. In addition, there was an eerie post script at the bottom of the note: Solo play is not recommended. A great deal of energy is required to knock. Without a group, you put yourself at risk. Tread carefully. Ahh. A little zest of danger to discourage me from playing. Nice try, OP, but I don’t scare easy. At this point, I still had every intention of following through with my plan and ending this guy’s continuum of ritualistic nonsense. Nothing, not even a well-placed warning, would keep me from seeing this thing through. I chose the perfect day. My stoner roommate was out of the house, and my noisy neighbors were at the beach. I would be able to perform the ritual, in silence, just as the instructions called for. The last thing I needed was some douche bag in the comment section of the video saying I heard something in the background. That’s why it didn’t work. After uploading my experience, I wanted there to be no doubt in anyone’s mind that the game was utter bullshit. No backlash, no analysis, and absolutely no debunking my performance.  I needed a clean run, through and through. I threw on a black shirt, sat down in my living room, placed a photo of my own door on the floor in front of me, as well as a MapQuest from my house, around my neighborhood, back to my house again. I decided it best to use my own door as the target, as this was the only way I could corroborate my findings in one, seamless video. After visualizing a nice stroll around the cul-de-sac, I pictured the entrance to my home and raised my hand to knock. The game was afoot. I was able to knock the required amount of times, however, in between knocks, things became a bit troublesome. I’ll describe the experience below: KNOCK #1 Though only imagining the events, I felt my skin make contact with the door, and in turn, heard the loud thud of a knock. Despite the game’s rules, I opened my eyes and looked ahead, astonished. I used my free hand to angle the camera directly at the door as I continued. KNOCK #2 I shut my eyes once more, visualized the same scene, and motioned my hand accordingly. Again, the wood of the door met my knuckles and a loud knock reverberated throughout the house. I opened my eyes again, but was now greeted with a blurry sight. A wave of drowsiness came over me, as if I’d popped a couple Benadryl. With it, I saw spots in the air; little blotches of light burned into my retina. KNOCK #3 With what little strength I had, I made the final knock. The sound that followed was jarring. It wasn’t louder than the previous ones, no… just different. It had a strange, almost metallic reverb, and lingered for far too long. It lasted for a solid minute before dissipating, a continuous dissonance that flowed through every crevice of the room, causing my skin to crawl. In this moment, the room spun, and my stomach turned. Just as severe dizziness took hold, I saw the door open, though I couldn’t discern the action’s source. Before I knew it, it was lights out. When I awoke, the door was still open; not to my neighborhood, but to a forest of sorts. Perplexed, I walked out, noticing a peculiar dirt path lined with overarching trees, leading from my doorstep into the depths of the woods. Ominous, yes, but I didn’t feel as though I was in any immediate danger. The atmosphere of this place was anything if not tranquil. A bizarre yet peaceful escape from real life. In truth, I had forgotten all about the psychic knock game, as well as the events that led me to that moment. I was in a strange stupor; a euphoria brought on by drugs unknown. In this state, the only thing I felt was a growing compulsion to move forward. I placated this sensation and braved the wilderness ahead, officially beginning my journey into the forest. I walked for what seemed like hours, though time felt irrelevant in whatever realm I was in. I eventually came to a small clearing at the forest’s edge, where it became apparent that I wasn’t alone. In that clearing was a man, facing away from me – before him, a set of doors, standing upright of their own accord. Though my absent-minded state may have been to blame, I still felt no danger. Only calm. The man turned around and gestured for me to come closer. I obliged, walking through a space between two of the doors. I was able to get a better look of the man, who was dressed in old-fashioned attire; a white button up, black pants, suspenders, dress shoes, and a skully-cap. Hanging from his side was the chain to a pocket watch. Where his facial features should have been was a pit of darkness; a swirling vortex of black energy. This was alarming, but euphoria kept me from feeling unnerved. The man spread his arms, reaching towards the doors and then spoke with a gravelly, artificial voice. “What would you like to know?” I didn’t respond. Instead, I looked at him, mystified by his presence. He spoke again. “Pick a door. Learn. Come back. Repeat.” He stood there, motionless, waiting for me to humor him. I was still confused, but did as he said, walking over to the closest door and then looking back at him. “Enter and you shall see.” I looked back at the door in front of me, grabbed the knob, and took a deep breath. Still calm as could be, I swung it open, walked past the doorframe, and entered a new world. From this point on, things got weird. Super weird. I entered and exited each and every door there, traversing strange locations as I did. One door led me into a retro, boxcar diner, flying through space. One led me into an old antiques shop, filled with items that harbored unique powers. Another brought me to a town completely frozen in time. I’ve never experienced anything like it before. Calling it surreal would be a severe understatement. For one reason or another, I was being allowed glimpses into places, worlds, and universes I was never meant to see. A mortal walking amongst the heavens. In the short period of time I was granted this power, I felt… eternal. Upon exiting the last door, the unusual man offered me one last bit of wisdom. “We oversee. We correct. We control.” There was a brief pause before he finished his sentiment. “Now you know.” The swirling energy on his face vanished, revealing a blank slate of skin, void of expression. The doors were next, disappearing one by one as the forest around them transformed into pitch blackness. Before long, I could see nothing. Nothing but darkness. The euphoria subsided, sweat dripped from my brow, and my breaths became rapid and arrythmic. I didn’t know what was happening at the time, but I now realize I was waking up. I jolted to life, opening my eyes as wide as possible, surveying my surroundings. I was in a hospital bed, hooked up to life support; an IV, a breathing tube; the whole nine yards. In the room was a nurse, my family, and even my stoner roommate, all seemingly ecstatic that I had woken. A doctor walked in and undid the breathing apparatus, allowing me to speak. That’s when I learned everything. Apparently, my roommate had come home to find me unconscious in the living room, face down on the hardwood floor. When he couldn’t wake me, he called 911 and then my parents. I was rushed to the hospital where it was determined I had suffered a head injury and succumb to a concussion-induced coma. It was also determined that I was severely dehydrated and vitamin deficient. The head injury came from falling over after passing out, but the cause for my nutrition levels was unknown. Luckily, after getting the appropriate fluids, I was able to fight my impromptu slumber and wake myself up. All’s well that ends well, I suppose. And that’s everything that happened. You might think I don’t eat properly, don’t drink as much water as I should, and wound up in a strange dream after passing out from exhaustion. Those who think the game is fake will continue to think this, those who think it’s real will subscribe to the idea that I didn’t follow through due to my accident, and the site will keep pumping out psychic knock stories until the cows come home. Right? Well, not exactly. You see, I had my camera the whole time. I filmed every moment from the start of the ritual, up to my meeting with the strange man. It wasn’t a dream. You can watch the video by clicking here (YouTuber LadyOfDeath was kind enough to upload it on my behalf). Some parts aren’t salvageable due to a bizarre electrical interference, but I pieced together enough to prove my story. See for yourself and make your own judgement. Oh yeah, and don’t play this fucking game, if you know what’s good for you. I very well could have died. You’ve been warned. For more on the Psychic Knock Game, click here. The author of this story wrote it for free. If you enjoyed it, please consider leaving him a tip. Any amount helps! Visit his donation page today. If you want to feature this story on your YouTube channel, don’t forget to follow the author’s narration instructions. WRITTEN BY: Christopher Maxim (Contact • Other Stories • Subreddit) Copyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on Creepypasta.com are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed under any circumstance.