The first couple of weeks in a new house, you have to get accustomed to so many things. Little differences that scatter your day, jarring you from a certain status quo. As I eased my way around the fresh house that day, I made a point of taking note of the little things that stood out. My partner was away on business for another two weeks, leaving me to learn the ins and outs on my own, which was fine by me – I relished the personal time. Without too many new furnishings decided upon, the place was sparse. Naturally, I spent a good twenty minutes dancing around the free space, in a way only I could. It helps to get to know the place.
There are other things than just the décor to get used to though. The speed of the taps, for example, or the springiness of a new bed. The general feel of the place; the atmosphere of the way the sun shines during the day, and the specific noises in the night. Especially the noises in the night.
It had been a long day moving a load of stuff, so I decided to have an early bed time, around nine thirty, and it wasn't until around eleven that night when I was woken. A banging and a struggle sounding from downstairs that felt utterly frantic. It was accompanied by some kind of raised voice and I figured it was just my luck for next door to have a domestic, and ruin my first special sleep in the new place. It continued for a fair while, but I managed to drift off again – although I'd barely woken up at all – and slept through the night.
I woke, startled as to where I was, naturally. Then followed that first proper breath of fresh air that felt like the joy of a new beginning, a fresh start to a long and happy next part of my life. It wasn't until around midday I thought about those strange sounds I had heard from my bed, and then it came to my attention that I did not even have neighbours. When I remembered that the place was detached, a shiver ran up my spine. I really didn't want to disturb my partner on business, so I just left a message instead. Though, it was just one time, so I forgot about the odd noises until later that night.
It was around eleven when I heard the first thud. I was walking through the living room and a dull boom engulfed the silent space, definitely coming from the wall. I stepped closer to examine the wall, and it happened again, a stirring feeling built up inside of me. I knocked on the wall, not sure whether I'd be happy or not to hear the scattering of rats, then the thing in the wall screamed at me. A muffled screaming of someone with their mouth clamped shut burst from the wall accompanied by the urgent thudding, as if whatever was inside wanted to get out.
Adrenaline was the only thing that carried me out of my house, hyperventilating and totally not in control of myself. After an hour, having calmed somewhat, and no replies on my phone, I realised that I would need to go back into the house. If I could just sleep through the night and sort it out in the morning, though I don't know what I could do. Needless to say, I didn't get any sleep through either the adrenaline, or periodic screams of someone trapped, and eventually I couldn't take it any more. I got up at around three in the morning, sought out a claw hammer that I had only unpacked that day, and readied myself for the wall to wail again.
The second I heard the thing in the wall scream, I screamed with it in retaliation. I wrenched my arms back and struck a small chip into the plaster wall with my hammer. It wasn't enough. I smashed the same spot again and again until there was a visible hole, and the screaming stopped. An eerie nothing embraced the room, I approached the hole, no larger than a once folded post-it note, and cautiously looked inside. The room's light didn't give much illumination, so I grabbed a torch. Flashing the light inside, everything was still. Cracked lips smiled at me. I panicked and fell and everything went black.
When I woke, I woke in shock. I tried to look around, but my head felt completely restricted. Everything was pitch black and my throat was dry, though my arms had a certain amount of freedom. I balled my hand and punched forwards, my fist met with a dull thud. I started hyperventilating, scratching the back of the plaster, and screamed the muffled scream of a mouth contained.
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