Dark Whispers

The night was deep, and the wind outside howled, carrying a damp and chilling breath that seeped through the cracks. Jamie sat at her desk, staring at the blinking cursor on her computer screen, yet no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't focus.

That unsettling feeling of being watched had plagued her for a week now.

At first, she dismissed it as paranoia. But every night, when silence enveloped her surroundings, she could feel it—that cold, piercing gaze, like an unseen presence lurking just beyond her vision. She had searched every corner of her room, checked the security cameras, yet found nothing.

"Maybe I'm just exhausted…" she muttered, rubbing her temples.

Just then, a faint click came from the wall beside her bookshelf.

Jamie's head snapped up.

The sound was barely perceptible—like something shifting within the wall, or worse, something stirring inside it.

She slowly stood, cautiously approaching the white-painted surface. Pressing her ear against the cold wall, she strained to listen.

Then—drip.

Something wet landed on the back of her hand.

Jamie glanced down.

A single drop of deep crimson liquid.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Instinctively, she staggered back, reaching for the light switch. Before she could turn it on, her phone vibrated violently.

Incoming call: Sandra.

Jamie answered immediately. "Sandra, you won't believe this—my wall—"

"Listen to me first," Sandra's voice was unusually tense. "The old building next to your apartment—there was a missing person case there."

"A missing person?" Jamie frowned.

"Half a year ago, a man named Li Ziran disappeared inside that building. The police investigated but never found his body. What's even stranger is that three years ago—the exact same thing happened in the same building."

Jamie's grip on her phone tightened.

Her gaze drifted to the bloodstained wall.

"You're saying… these people might still be inside?"

A heavy silence followed before Sandra finally murmured, "Did you ever consider… maybe they never left?"

Jamie felt her blood run cold.

Without hesitation, she grabbed her toolbox and pulled out a crowbar. She knew the truth was inside that wall.

With a deep breath, she raised the crowbar—

And swung.

BANG!

Dust and debris flew as a jagged crack split across the surface. Behind the plaster and foam insulation, something had been deliberately sealed away. Jamie struck again, the wall crumbling under the force of her blows.

Then—

A pair of eyes stared back at her.

Jamie's pulse stopped.

But it wasn't a face—just a single bloodshot, disembodied eye, embedded in the wall, staring directly at her.

Then she saw them—dozens of eyes.

They were embedded in the rotting flesh lining the inside of the wall, blinking within the decayed tissue, some still intact, their irises eerily clear. It was as if these things were still watching, still aware.

Her stomach churned. She staggered back, knocking into her desk.

Click.

A crackling noise echoed from within the wall—bones shifting.

Then—the mouth moved.

The thing inside grinned, its lips pulling apart as it let out a dry, whispery breath:

"… You found me…"

"Fck this." Jamie grabbed the paper talisman from her desk and slammed it onto the wall.

The paper ignited instantly.

A screech tore through the room.

The entire wall convulsed, the embedded eyes bursting one by one, oozing foul, blackened fluid. The thing behind the wall thrashed violently, the force shaking the floor beneath her.

Jamie turned and ran.

She yanked open her door—only to freeze.

The familiar hallway outside was gone.

In its place stretched an endless, blood-red corridor, lined with grotesque, pulsing walls. Eyes—hundreds of them—covered the surface, each one fixated on her.

Her chest heaved, panic clawing at her lungs.

She tried to step back—

A breath—cold and damp—brushed the back of her neck.

She turned.

It was behind her.

The thing from the wall stood upright, its skeletal form twitching, its hollowed eyes weeping streaks of dark blood.

Its lips trembled.

"… Don't leave me…"

"Jamie!"

A sharp voice pierced through the haze.

Suddenly—everything snapped back to reality.

Jamie gasped, eyes flying open.

She was lying on her living room floor.

Sandra was kneeling beside her, gripping her wrist tightly.

Jamie's vision blurred. She sat up abruptly, frantically scanning the room. The walls—untouched. The hallway—normal. The floor—clean.

No blood. No bodies. No watching eyes.

But her hands—

Her hands were still stained with fresh, red blood.

Sandra's eyes darkened. "Jamie… you were unconscious for half an hour. When I got here, you were standing in front of the wall, pale as a corpse, mumbling something over and over.** What did you see?**"

Jamie's breathing was shallow.

Her gaze drifted back to the perfectly intact wall.

And yet, deep in her mind, she could still hear that whisper—

"… Don't leave me…"

Slowly, she stood.

Reaching out, she pressed her palm against the wall.

It was cold.

And damp.

As if something was still inside.

In a quiet voice, she murmured, "Sandra… are we sure there's nothing behind this wall?"

Sandra didn't answer right away.

Then, after a long pause, she finally said:

"Let's tear it down and find out."