“Whispers in the Walls”

When Sarah and Daniel moved into the old house on Hollow Creek Road, it had been raining for days. It was isolated, covered in creeping ivy, surrounded by thick woods. The locals whispered about the place—how no one stayed there long, how strange things happened inside those decaying walls. But to the young couple, it was perfect: quiet, cheap, and full of character.

The first night was uneventful, save for the wind howling through the broken shutters. But as the days passed, things began to change. Sarah would hear soft murmurs late at night, like voices whispering from inside the walls. She initially laid the blame on the wind or her imagination. But one night, Daniel heard them too.

“Did you hear that?” He asked while rising from his bed. Sarah nodded, eyes wide. “It’s coming from the walls…”

Their ears were pressed against the icy plaster. They heard muffled, but clearly human, whispers in a language they couldn't understand. As if the house was aware that it was being listened to, when they made noise, the whispers stopped. They searched the walls, the attic, and even the crawlspace beneath the floorboards. Nothing. There are no signs of pests or hidden speakers. Just dust, cobwebs, and silence.

But the silence didn’t last.

One night, Sarah woke to find Daniel standing at the corner of the room, facing the wall. His body was rigid, his hands twitching at his sides.

“Daniel?” she whispered.

He didn't say anything. She got out of bed and gently touched his shoulder. He turned around slowly, eyes wide and unblinking.

“They’re inside,” he whispered. “They’re waiting.”

The next morning, he remembered nothing. He laughed it off as a dream, but Sarah wasn’t so sure. From the walls, Daniel had begun speaking in his sleep—long, strange sentences in the same foreign language. She recorded him one night. When she played it back the next day, the voice on the tape was not Daniel’s. It was deeper, raspier… not quite human.

Sarah got in touch with the previous owner, a reclusive woman who was now in a nursing home. She was terrified. When Sarah mentioned the address, the woman went pale.

“You should leave,” she said. “That house was never meant to be lived in.”

“What happened there?” Sarah asked.

The woman hesitated, then whispered, “My brother and I grew up in that house. We heard the whispers too. He… he changed. He was compelled to act by the house. “Like what?”

But the woman only shook her head, eyes filled with sorrow and fear.

Daniel was becoming more distant at home. He stopped going to work, stopped eating, stopped speaking English. He carved strange symbols into the stone walls for hours in the basement. When Sarah tried to stop him, he screamed in a voice that wasn’t his.

One night, Sarah found a hidden room behind a loose panel in the basement. Inside were dozens of old photographs—black and white, faded with time. Every photo showed different people standing outside the house. But all their eyes were scratched out.

A journal that had been written by the house's original builder was in the room's center. He had been a spiritualist who was always trying to get in touch with the dead. He believed the house was built on a thin place—a tear between the world of the living and the dead. The walls, he claimed, were “alive with memory,” capable of absorbing the voices and wills of those who died within.

Sarah realized the whispers were not ghosts—they were the remnants of souls, trapped and fused into the house itself. And now, they wanted Daniel.

That night, she tried to leave. She packed a bag and begged Daniel to come with her. But he just stared at her with black, empty eyes.

“You can’t leave,” he said in a voice layered with dozens of others. "You are now a part of the house." She ran. She didn’t stop until she reached the nearest gas station, barefoot and soaked from the rain. The police went back with her the next morning.

The house was empty. Daniel is not visible. No signs of the photos, the journal, or the symbols in the basement. Just silence.

They searched for days. There is no body. No hints. Sarah left town and never looked back. But in her new apartment, she sometimes hears whispering at night—soft, familiar voices that seem to come from the walls. And in her dreams, she sees Daniel, standing in the corner, watching… waiting.

Thank you.