The Walls That Spoke

Part 1 of 1

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There was once an odd house with creaky floors that could break in any moment with windows that stayed stuck, refusing to open. The neighborhood was quiet and still. The neighbors were hardly home. They would go to work from 5:00 am to 10:00 pm.  How do I know this? Well,  because I lived in that odd house. Moving in was always the easiest part for most people but,leaving was the challenge.  

When I first saw the house, I thought to myself, "Ah, this one yes, with it's smell of Plumeria and old paint." As a lover of the antique, it fit well with my standards. When I entered the house, it felt just right. 

The first night was cold yet welcoming. Luckily that meant that during the hot days  the house would be cold on the inside, strangely, there was no ac. Noon through night was when the noises began.

 First there would be scratching along with soft noises within the walls. At first I thought it was rats. so I payed no attention and adopted a cat, Jaeger. Jaeger often heard the scratches and would run to them. He would just stare at the wall and cry to me hysterically. It was the same cycle until he began to do the opposite. He would run away every time a slight hint of that particular noise started. Why did I not run away? I had no where else to be. I had no friends and no family left.

Every day it got worse. The scratches and soft noises had vanished but were replaced with inaudible whispers; which grew louder every time and more comprehensible. They would whisper stories about the history of the house. They would mock me in my sleep and they would vanish in my awake. I could no longer go to the bathroom or eat without them speaking their minds with their low and raspy voice. Some were clearer than others. Eventually I was driven insane with insomnia. I had green and purple eye bags. My body grew thinner for I did not wish to eat, I smelled terrible and my appearance was too gruesome that Jaeger refused to approach me. I stayed stuck in my chambers. I used the restroom with a bucket that was near my bed, I threw up in the same bucket and  dumped the remains in a corner opposite of my room. 

On a certain night, I tried to cut off my ears to free myself from the sounds. When I had no more energy I passed out. When I awoke, It was dark again but the voices were  dead silent. I was relieved to hear nothing. My ears were bleeding from the small cuts but that didn't matter. I took advantage of this silence and headed to the bathroom to shower. Slowly walking back towards the bedroom I heard a screeching scream. My legs weakened and I dropped to the floor. They made my ears bleed even more and my skin started peeling off. Jaeger hissed at me and ran out the window. While in immense pain, I wondered, "Who opened the window?" I was frightened to my core while laying down on the floor, half soaked in my own urine covering my ears wondering if I would die here. I cried and begged to be taken away from the house. The screams settled down and I stayed on the ground. Soon I remembered that there was no window where Jaeger had run out before. The windows were in the kitchen, not across the hallway.  The house itself seemed to change it's form. The walls were much cleaner but the mess in my room stayed the same.

When morning approached, with the last drop of energy within me, I got up and used the walls for support. My body ached, hands full of blood stains, legs sore of the fall that I took. I  felt myself sink deep into the wall with every step that I took. It felt as if there was quicksand on it.  With no energy to scream or cry for help,  soon I became  one with the wall. I looked around and was horrified with what I found. 40 or more corpses were in the same condition as me; thin with their skins somewhat peeled off. Their ears slightly cut off  and all lined up in a row inside the wall, supporting it. I could see the whole house. These poor people saw everything I did. They knew who I was and it was terrifying. Their whispers and noises were cries of help.

After 5 months, the police came to investigate  why I had not payed a single bill. Disgusted by the smell the inside gave; they were able to pass towards the hallway that contained my dried up blood and peeled off skin. They called for back up and came into my room. Soon forensics came and investigated the bucket filled with feces and vomit, the floors smelling like urine, the bed damped with  dried blood next to a piece of my ear. They broke the walls and searched for any clues, but found nothing. They cleaned the mess and resold the house, they never bothered to tell my story for there was no story to tell. They still don't know that I live in these walls. That we live in these walls. There will be more victims soon. Very soon.