The Whispers in the Walls

It was an old house, tucked away at the end of a forgotten road, surrounded by overgrown woods that seemed to twist and stretch in unnatural ways. When Emily and her family moved in, the locals warned them that no one had lived there for more than a year before leaving. People whispered about the house being "cursed," but Emily’s parents didn’t believe in ghosts, and she tried not to either. After all, they had gotten the house for a great price. What could be wrong with that?The first few nights were quiet, save for the creaking of the wooden floors and the howling wind rattling the windows. But then Emily began to hear something. Late at night, when the rest of her family was fast asleep, there was a faint sound—soft whispers, barely audible, but undeniably there. It wasn’t the wind, and it wasn’t the house settling. The whispers seemed to come from within the walls.One night, unable to ignore it any longer, she pressed her ear against the cold plaster of her bedroom wall. The whispers grew louder, clearer, and she could make out fragments of words: "Help us… don’t leave… he’s coming…"Terrified, she ran to her parents, but they dismissed her fear, chalking it up to her imagination. Frustrated, Emily decided to investigate on her own. The next day, she explored the house’s attic, a dark and dusty place filled with forgotten relics of the past. There, she found an old journal, brittle and yellowed with age. The journal belonged to a woman named Margaret, who had lived in the house decades ago with her husband and children.The entries started off mundane, but as Emily flipped through the pages, the tone changed. Margaret began to write about her husband, how he had become obsessed with something hidden in the walls—something ancient and malevolent. The last few pages were frantic scrawls of fear: "He’s trying to keep them quiet… the voices… they won’t stop. He won’t stop… he’s part of it now…"That night, the whispers returned, louder than ever, filling Emily's room. But this time, they weren’t just whispers. There were other sounds—scraping, scratching—like something trying to break free from within the walls. The air grew thick, heavy with the stench of decay.Suddenly, her bedroom door slammed shut, and she was plunged into darkness. The whispers turned into agonized screams, filling her ears, drowning out her thoughts. Something was moving in the shadows—something dark, looming, and twisted. It whispered her name, calling her closer.Terrified, Emily scrambled to the window, trying to escape, but the glass wouldn’t break. Behind her, she could feel the presence getting closer, the cold breath of something ancient against her neck. She turned to face it, and in the flicker of moonlight, she saw it—the twisted, decaying figure of a man, his eyes hollow, his mouth stretched into a grotesque grin."You shouldn’t have come here," he whispered, his voice blending with the screams from the walls. "You’re mine now… just like the others…"The next morning, Emily’s parents found her room empty. The bed was untouched, her belongings exactly where she had left them, but Emily was gone. No one ever saw her again.Years later, a new family moved in, unaware of the house's dark history. And once again, late at night, the whispers began…