Whispers In The Walls
Chapter 1: The House
Elena Voss stood at the edge of the gravel path, her boots sinking
slightly into the damp earth. Coldwater Hollow was quiet—too quiet for a
town that once buzzed with summer tourists and antique hunters. The
trees had grown wild, their branches clawing at the sky like fingers
reaching for something they’d long forgotten.
The house loomed ahead, its windows black and blind, the porch sagging
like a broken jaw. Paint peeled in long, curling strips. The front door
hung slightly ajar, as if waiting.
Elena V.
💭I haven't been here in 18 years...the house has gotten even creepier...
Elena V.
*Her hands slightly tremble, as she takes out the key and fumbles with the lock*
Naomi H.
📲Elena? You there?
Elena V.
📲I'm here, Naomi...it's so much worse than I remember!
Naomi H.
📲You sure you want to do this?
Elena V.
📲 I don't want to. I have too. Unfortunately.
Naomi H.
📲 Just.. be careful, okay? That house has a history.
Elena V.
📲*sighs* yeah...I know better than anyone. *hangs up, as the door opens*
The air was stale, thick with the scent of mildew and something
metallic—like rust, or blood. Wallpaper curled like dead skin. The
floorboards groaned beneath her feet, each step a protest
Elena V.
*Stops walking and pauses in the foyer. She glances at the mirror above the fireplace- cracked, shattered, and yet, it still reflected the light in glittering rays*
Unknown
*a low whisper* Elena...
Elena V.
*Blinks, stumbling back. Her brown eyes widen in shock*
Elena V.
What the actual...
Elena V.
*Turns around sharply, heart thumping wildly, as she knows the best way to stay safe sometimes, is to ignore creepy stuff*
Elena V.
Nothing happened, Elena. It's just...the wind.
She walked through the living room, past the dusty piano and the
armchair her mother used to sit in. The cushions were torn, the fabric
stained. A child’s drawing lay on the floor—crayon lines depicting a
girl with no eyes, standing in front of the house.
Elena V.
*Picks it up* Huh...?!
The Caption on the drawing reads- "She lives in the walls."
Elena V.
*freezes. The voice came from upstairs.* This.. it's my mother's voice...
Elena V.
That can't be possible...
Elena V.
She died a year ago in the fire!
Elena V.
*gulps, and grabs a metal rod*
Her legs moved before her mind caught up. She climbed the stairs slowly,
each step creaking beneath her weight. The hallway was dark, the
wallpaper scorched in places. At the end stood the nursery door—painted
white, untouched by time.
Elena V.
💭 I don't remember this being here...
Unknown
*the voice reduces to a whisper- sad, pitiful, and utterly vulnerable* Elena...please...
Elena V.
*opens the door hesitantly, gripping the rod tighter*
Inside was a crib. A doll lay
in the crib, its eyes gouged out, its mouth stitched shut.
Elena V.
*her hands fly up to her mouth, as she lets out a scream. The rod clatters down to the floor as she steps back, looking at it horrified* No..no..no..NO!
Elena V.
What kind of pathetic trick is this?!
*She trembles, her body shaking as she stares at the doll*
Elena V.
💭 I swear... I saw it smile. What have I gotten myself into?
Chapter 2: The First Night
Elena stood in the nursery doorway, frozen. The stitched mouth curved
upward in a grotesque parody of joy, its eyeless sockets staring into
nothing.
Elena V.
I swear to god...this house is gonna be the death of me.
Elena V.
*turns around sharply, stiffling a scream*
Elena V.
Whoever's playing this damn trick..
Elena V.
*backs out of the
room, pulling the door shut behind her. *
Elena V.
💭 I don't remember this nursery being here...but I remember this room.
Elena V.
💭 How could I ever forget it? it's like the memories are etched onto me.
She went downstairs, trying to shake the feeling. The house groaned
around her, settling into its bones. The floorboards creaked with each
step, but she couldn’t tell if it was her weight or something else
moving beneath.
In the kitchen, she found the old rotary phone still mounted to the
wall. It hadn’t worked in years, but the receiver was off the hook.
Elena V.
I should probably call Naomi here...a little company would be better.
Elena V.
*picks up the phone. Then sees the the plug isn't connected* Tsk. I'll just call from my phone. So much for a landline.
Then suddenly, like the faintest whisper, a broken voice glitches through the receiver.
Unknown
Why are you ignoring me?
Unknown
It's been so long since we united... remember all those times I've supported you during your darkest days?
Unknown
D-don-t-for-get-m-me..
Elena V.
*Slams the receiver down onto the table, as if it had burned her hand*
Elena V.
💭 I'll just go to sleep. I think I'm so exhausted that I'm imagining stuff.
She turned to leave—and stopped.
On the kitchen table lay a photograph. She hadn’t seen it before. It was
old, faded, the edges curled. A family portrait. Her mother stood in the
center, smiling tightly. Elena was beside her, maybe six years old. But
something was wrong.
Elena V.
💭 They're missing...
Elena V.
💭 Maybe it's because of wear..?
She stared at the photo until her vision blurred.
What her friend had been telling her about.
Scratching.
Faint. Rhythmic. Coming from inside the wall.
Elena V.
*presses her ear to the plaster, her heart thumping wildly as she dares not to make a sound*
Unknown
*Tap..tap...tap..*
Mhm. That night, you could say, Elena didn't sleep.
She spent the night pacing the hallway, her bare feet silent on the
wood. The house whispered around her—groans, creaks, the occasional thud
from somewhere deep below.
Elena V.
*mutters to herself* if the hall already feels like this creepy mess, then I can't even think about how bad the basement must be..
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