Building 6 “Whispers”

“Even before the storm really got going, it had become hard to hear the radio. I was huddled in the basement, like I had been taught to as a kid. Normally storms don't really bother me, but I knew it was expected to be really bad, possibly the worst Wellington Street had even seen. Even in the basement the noise was terrible, the thick pattering of rain on the roof still reaching me. I focused on the radio, which I had placed on a local station. But despite the noise, I began to notice a sound emanating just above the volume of the broadcast.

I couldn't make it out at first, and so I turned down the radio in the hope I would hear it better. But as I lowered the volume, so too did the volume of the strange noise decrease. At first I thought it was coming from the radio, but after I turned it off I could still hear it, if only faintly. I began to look for the source of the noise, but only managed to hear it continuing to grow more distant. I heard the house groan and creak, and I figured it was just the house moving in the wind. I sat back down and turned back on the radio. The DJ was reporting on the storm.

“Original patterns had predicted that the storm would be passing through by around three in the morning, but the storm itself has seemed to have slowed down, making those previous estimates off by close to two to three hours. The storm itself is easily the worst I have ever seen. I can actually see the effects of it outside my window. It’s hard to see due to the rain, but even at this point I can see a heavy buildup of water just around my building. No worries though folks. This place is elevated so I should stay high and dry.

Those who find themselves in their homes would do well to keep a close eye on their basements, as flooding is possible, especially in some of the older home. I will keep you updated, and as a friendly reminder to those foolish enough to think of going outside, just don't. Trust me. You don't want to be out in this...”

I tried to listen in, but I became aware of the sound again, only this time it was much more distinct. I turned off the radio, and found the sound was not fading but in fact increasing in volume. It sounded like someone whispering. I stood up and began looking again for a source, only to realize that the sound was coming from upstairs.

I took out my phone to call the police, but the storm and my basement caused the call to fail. I tried three more times before I resolved to go upstairs. The noise hadn't stopped, but if someone was in the house I needed to get a call out. I headed up the stairs, grabbing the handrails and avoiding the steps that creaked the loudest. Eventually I made it to the top and slowly opened the door.

I looked around, my eyes adjusting to the dark. The sound was still growing louder, and yet despite this I couldn't manage to make out a word of what was being said, like the sound was being muffled somehow. I checked my phone, only to find I still didn't have a signal. I headed down the hall towards my living room, the sound growing louder. I could feel my heart racing in my chest. I grit my teeth and retrieved a bat from a nearby closet before I returned to the entrance to the living room.

The sound had stopped, and when I looked around the corner I saw no one in the den. I checked the kitchen and was going to check upstairs when I heard a sound start up suddenly. It was the sound of the radio in the basement.

I didn't want to check, but I couldn't just ignore an intruder in my home. I headed down the stairs, stepping as slowly as I could in the hope that I wouldn't make a sound. The radio was blaring though, so any sound I made was muffled. At last I made it to the bottom, the basement completely dark save for the light coming through the high set windows. Even with the rain, a pale yellow light continued to emanate from the streetlamps outside. It was still dark though, but it was enough.

In the middle of the floor was a nude figure about the size of a child. It was sitting in front of the radio, rocking gently back and forth. It had long black hair, and even in the dark I could see its yellowed, bloodshot eyes. It stopped rocking the moment I touched the bottom. Then it reached out and turned off the radio before it turned its head and looked at me.

It smiled and spoke, though it had no lips, and no mouth.

“Robert?” It asked.

I was frozen in the spot, my breath coming out in quick gasps. Then it stood up, and with backwards facing legs began to hop towards me. I ran up the stairs, stumbling and cracking my shin against one of the boards. Then I ran out into the rain, the roar of the storm overwhelming all other sound.

I didn't stop until I saw the police station. Then I collapsed onto the front steps, waiting a few minutes to catch my breath, my body exhausted from the run. Lazily, I turned my head and looked to the side, expecting to see the thing coming towards me. But there was nothing there.

I spent the night at the station. They didn't seem to mind since the storm was so bad. They asked me for a statement later and I told them that I was heading home when the storm hit. They bought it fine, and around six in the morning the storm stopped. I arrived at my house, finding several of the windows broken, and the basement flooded. It took weeks for all the damage to be fixed. In the meantime, I stayed with a friend, though I never admitted to them the real reason for leaving the house.

To this day whenever someone mentions the storm I have to leave the room. I know they are just being friendly, but whenever they do I can see that thing staring at me again. So I try to shut it out and distract myself. It doesn't always work. And honestly the one thing that bothers me the most was the way it smiled at me.”