Dead Animals in the Wall: A house That Never Sleeps

Dead Animals in the Walls

Prologue

The old farmhouse on Briar Lane had always been the subject of hushed conversations in the village. Its weathered wood siding, sagging roof, and gnarled tree branches clawing at its windows gave it an air of desolation. Rumors spoke of bizarre noises at night—scratching, thumping, and faint whispers. No one stayed in the house for long.

The house came into their lives when a distant relative left it to Elise and her husband, Martin. They had dismissed the tales as superstitions. Happy to be leaving the city's pandemonium, they moved in with their two small children, never knowing what terrors lay hidden behind its walls.

The Discovery

The first few weeks were uneventful. Elise took pride in cleaning and decorating the dusty house, while Martin worked on fixing the creaky floorboards and leaky taps. But soon, a foul stench began to permeate the air. It was faint at first, a whiff of decay that came and went.

Elise assumed it was a dead rat in the wall-one of those things that happened in older homes. As the days went by, the smell got worse and became unbearable. The children started to complain of headaches and nightmares, waking up screaming about moving shadows in their room.

Desperate for a source, Martin began to tear into the walls. What he found made his stomach roil. Behind the drywall lay the rotting bodies of small animals -rabbits, birds, and squirrels arranged in twisted, unnatural patterns.

“It's some kind of sick joke,” Martin said, though his voice belied his unease. Elise stared at the grotesque display, her skin crawling. Who would do such a thing?

The Noises Begin

That night, the house came alive. The soft thudding that Elise had dismissed as settling wood grew louder. It was accompanied by scratching sounds, as if something were trying to claw its way out of the walls.

Martin tried to rationalize it. “Probably rats,” he said, though he avoided looking Elise in the eye. But deep down, they both knew this was no ordinary infestation.

Their daughter, Lily, started talking to someone who wasn't there. When Elise asked her who, Lily said, “The little animals. They're sad. They want to come out.”

Elise's blood ran cold.

The Old Journal

While cleaning the attic, Elise found a tattered leather journal hidden beneath a floorboard. Its pages were filled with the ramblings of someone clearly unhinged.

“The animals are the key. They listen. They watch. Not only that, but they protect the house from those who don't belong.”

The journal was from Jonathan Briar, the original owner of the farmhouse. His entries increasingly became dark, detailing various rituals of animal sacrifice. He felt that the house asked for offerings to keep “the others” away.

One entry chilled Elise to the core:

“The walls are their home now. They keep the peace, but only if we honor them. Without the offerings, they grow restless. They'll come for us.”

The Haunting Intensifies

That night, Elise woke up to the whispering. She poked Martin, but he didn't budge-he was sleeping solidly. The whispers became louder, an unmistakable chorus of voices. Following the sound of it into the children's room, she found Lily up by the wall, leaning her hand against it.

Lily calmly informed Elise, setting her nerves on edge.

“What do you mean, sweetie?”.

“The animals. They’re not alone.”

Before Elise could respond, a loud bang echoed through the house. The walls shook, and the foul stench returned, stronger than ever.

A Desperate Search

Terrified, Elise and Martin decided to leave the house. But as they packed, the doors refused to open. The windows, too, were stuck, as if the house itself was trapping them inside.

Martin grabbed a hammer and began smashing the walls, revealing grotesque displays. But this time, it wasn't only animals. Hidden among carcasses were human remains-skewered hands and skulls that grinned with empty eye sockets, almost staring at them.

“The house is cursed,” Elise whispered. “We need to put an end to this.”

The Final Confrontation

Elise remembered the journal's last entry:

“Only fire can cleanse the house. Yet it will also fight.

The next night, Elise and Martin approached the house armed with petrol and a box of matches, ready to raze the residence. They're pouring gas around the premises, he growled-it was like alive. Screaming from the whispers on into the start of hemorrhaging dark liquid from their cuts.

The house was suddenly retaliating as Martin struck the match. Objects whirled around the room, and a shadowy figure writhed into form in the corner, it's shape-shifting. It lunged at Elise, its hollow eyes ablaze with fury.

Summoning her courage, Elise lit the match and tossed it onto the gasoline-soaked floor. Flames roared to life, consuming the room.

The Aftermath

The family barely managed to escape as the house burnt to the ground, screaming into the night. The neighbors came, attracted by the conflagration, but no one could explain the moving shadows within the flames.

Elise and Martin moved far away, promising never to speak about the house again. Yet at night, in the dead of night, Elise could still hear the soft scratching of claws in the wall, the whispers of voices that would never be silenced.