Jake

You moved into the old cottage on Hollow Creek Road because the rent was cheap and the forest view was beautiful. The landlord only said one thing before you signed the lease:Don’t listen to the walls at night.”You laughed it off.The first night was quiet. The second, you thought you heard scratching. By the third, the whispers began.Soft and slow, like someone breathing behind the wallpaper:Y/n… come closer…”You told yourself it was your imagination. But when you put your ear to the wall—just to be sure—it stopped.Until tonight.Tonight, the whisper didn’t wait.It hissed right beside your bed.You hear me now, don’t you?”And when you turned on the lamp, your shadow was standing at the foot of the bed— but you weren’t moving.