The House of Whisperss
Chapter Title:
Chapter 1: The Whispering Walls
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The storm had not stopped for three nights.
In the silence between the thunder, she could hear it again — those faint whispers inside the walls.
Helena gripped the edge of her hospital desk, eyes locked on the cracked plaster just above the patient bed. Room 313. No one lasted long in it.
St. Delora’s Mental Asylum had been standing since 1892, tucked away beyond the woods outside Black Hollow town. People said it was cursed. Helena didn’t believe in curses. Not until she met Patient 47.
He was quiet, pale, and watched the walls like something might crawl out any moment. And every night, at exactly 3:13 a.m., he whispered one thing:
“They’re waiting in the house.”
When she asked him which house, he simply smiled and said,
“The house that listens.”
Then he scratched a drawing onto the padded wall. A house. Long windows like eyes. And dozens of ears, carved into the bricks.
The next morning, he vanished. The staff blamed it on a clerical error. No one else remembered admitting him. Not even the security cameras showed anything.
But Helena had the drawing.
And a voice had started whispering to her, too.
In her sleep.
In her walls.
She knew she had to go to the house.
The same house from the drawing.
The one no one dared talk about.
The one that appears in the dreams of madmen.
The House of Whispers.
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The House of Whispers2025-05-24 10:13
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