🧠 Echoes in the Walls

At first, it was just a few insignificant sounds.

It was dark on the first night you moved into the old apartment. The dim light bulbs in the corridor flickered, and the sound of footsteps echoed in the narrow space, hollow and dry.

The landlord left an old key and said that this place was "quite quiet" and suitable for people like you who need to be alone. You thought so too - until late at night.

The walls of the room were thin. You could hear the whispers of the TV next door, as if an old soap opera was playing listlessly and intermittently. But, logically, the next door... should be empty.

You kept telling yourself that maybe it was just the echo of the pipes. There are always such strange sounds in old buildings in the city. But when you turned off the lights and prepared to go to sleep, the sound changed again.

It was not the TV, not the water pipes.

It was a low voice, like someone mumbling in your ear.

- Go fast.

- Go fast.

Over and over again, as gentle as a mother coaxing a baby to sleep, yet creepy.

You suddenly opened your eyes, the whole room was dark, only the occasional car lights outside the window reflected the outline of the furniture, crooked and broken.

You stood up, moved closer to the wall, and listened.

The sound stopped.

Only your rapid heartbeat was left, banging against your eardrums.

You returned to bed and pretended that everything was normal. But somewhere in your heart, a crack slowly spread, like mold hidden in the wall, which could not be ignored.

The second night, it got worse.

The wall not only whispered, it began to "breathe".

You could clearly feel it - the wall was slightly bulging, as if something was buried inside, struggling slowly and painfully. Every pulse was accompanied by a subtle click, like a broken bone or a scratch of nails.

You covered your ears and curled up in the corner of the bed.

You even began to wonder if there was something wrong with your mind. Too much work pressure? Loneliness caused auditory hallucinations? But no matter how you convince yourself, the sound of the wall continues, day and night.

Sometimes, in a trance, you seem to hear your name, being called softly over and over again.

It's not the voice of a stranger, but your mother's voice.

That distant and familiar tone carries the warmth deep in your childhood memories... and fear.

You cover your ears, close your eyes, and silently pray that everything will pass. But a corner of your heart knows that this is not an illusion.

Those voices know who you are and what you are afraid of.

On the third night, you completely collapsed.

The room is no longer just a whisper.

In the dead silence, you see it - the crack in the corner of the wall is slowly expanding, like a black hole.

Silent, but very attractive.

You can't move your eyes away, as if something is staring at you through the crack.

It's not a threat, nor is it anger.

That look is full of deep, disgusting desire.

You stood up and walked towards the wall hesitantly. In your mind, a long-suppressed voice quietly sounded:

——Give up.

——Go in.

At that moment, you finally understood that this apartment was never meant for you to live in.

It was just waiting for you to come, waiting for you... to disappear.

🔦 Thank you for stepping into the unknown with me.

If you enjoyed this story, leave a ❤️, share your thoughts in the comments, or simply keep an extra light on tonight…

Until next time, stay curious 👁️‍🗨️ and stay safe.