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Whispered Secrets

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All my life, I will never forget that dreadful night. It is seared into my memory…irrevocably and permanently. They say we are made by what we remember. To put it in another way, memories construct the human self. And the memory of that night has changed who I am…unfortunately, for the worse.

After my graduation, I finally secured a job in a telecommunications company. The pay was decent, so I rented myself a lovely apartment near my workplace. Although the building was quite fancy, I got the flat cheap. Because of my non-existent savings, I was thrilled to get such a fair price. But a tiny part of me, the rational part, was a bit suspicious of the low rates, which was about half of the usual rent for other apartments in the building. A little curious, I began asking around the building about the apartment. The residents fell silent when I told them my apartment number, but the vendors and shop owners around the area told me something bizarre.

“Oh, apartment thirty? I am not sure what to tell you, sir. That place is trouble, I tell you! No one lasts a month there. They say a dark shadow lies over it, driving away any tenant silly enough to move in!”

At the time, I smirked and waved away this “hocus-pocus, superstitious” theory.

Then one day, I came back from work particularly tired and exhausted. My bones ached, and my head pounded. After a quick hot shower and a hasty dinner of leftover pizza, I collapsed on my bed, turning off the lamp and dozing off.


I awoke with a start, blindly peering into the darkness. It took me a few seconds to remember that I was in my bedroom. Rubbing my eyes, I fumbled for the switch of the lamp when…


Another banging on the door made my heart jump as I held my breath. Straining my ears, I heard the eeriest whispers outside the door. It was like someone weeping and mumbling. A sob punctuated incomprehensible words now and then. Beads of sweat broke out on my arms and face despite the chill. My heartbeat rang in my ears. The whispers were scattered in the air in a terrifying voice; it couldn’t have been a human’s voice.


A whimper escaped me as terror crept up my spine, making me shiver and pant in that pitch-black darkness. Again, someone or something was banging on the door…harder and harder. A screech wail from hell itself erupted in my ear, making me flinch my head on the wall…

I sat up straight in bed. Short of breath and my shirt drenched in sweat, I looked around while reaching for the lamp. Once the lights were on, the yellow warmth and radiance flooded the room. I carefully scanned everything before realizing that I had been dreaming. A wave of relief washed over me as my breath finally eased into regularity. I collapsed onto the bed and buried my face in my palms, grateful that it was just a dream. But something was still unnerving me: the nightmare had been too vivid to have been a dream.

But all those worries disappeared when a yawn escaped me, and I slowly snuggled again under the covers. The light from the lamp was on as I slipped into unconsciousness.


I awoke with a start. The lamp’s soft radiance had extinguished, but the room wasn’t dark because the curtains were drawn…

The moon’s pale light, cold and buttery, trickled into a long column on the floor. Squinting and peering, I tried to figure out what was happening when…the whispers resounded in the air. Gently, slowly, softly, they bounced off the walls.

It was like a vice had gripped my heart in its crushing clench. My entire body reacted to the whispers as if struck by a rolling boulder. My teeth clattered as I sat up, looking for the source of the horrifying sound. My blood ran frigid as I realized the sound came from within the room.

Convulsing and shivering, I could hardly hear anything over my thumping heartbeat. But in the shadows, there was something or someone. This much I knew. They whispered incessantly, breaking off only to let go of a sob. It was only now that I realized that the outcry was in a human voice, unlike the whispers. As if a woman wept over a tremendous loss.

My voice quivered as I called out to the shadows…the whispers ceased, and all was ghost-quiet.

Then, I saw something that would haunt me till my dying day. Two eyes materialized in the corner of the room as if etched into the darkness. They were dark-yellow, menacing, unblinking. I beheld them for a moment before an almighty wail burst out of my mouth.

I was lying on the floor, trapped in bedsheets like a fish in a net. I flailed about helplessly, my lungs aching with every breath. Finally freeing myself, I sat at the edge of the bed. The lamp was on again, and the curtains were closed. The vividness of my vision eliminated the possibility of a dream. I was sure the whispers were not in my head. Melancholia gripped me as I wept, tears trickling down my cheeks.

I wanted to get out of that apartment; something devilish and hellish resided there; this much was for sure. Getting up, I resolved to pack a bag and go to my friend’s place.

But then…it happened.

The lamp went out, and the room was engulfed by darkness. Something wept and whispered near me.

The curtains were slowly drawn on their own accord…the cold moonlight illuminating the demon itself.

Its face was ghostly pallid and partially curtained by the blackest hair. The devil wore a white cloak, ragged and stained by blood. Her shoeless feet were pointing backward. Blood-shot eyes peeked from behind her hair, and blood trickles oozed from her eyes instead of tears.

I must have hit my head as I stumbled backward…because I only remember waking up in the morning after getting a brief glimpse of the terrifying sight.

I ran out and refused to enter that hellish abode. Everyone asked me what was wrong, but I didn’t tell people anything.

What could I have told them?

Who would have believed me even if I did?

If you liked this story, please also check out “Blood Bath and the Weeping Woman” : https://simily.co/all-stories/fiction/fjwriter/blood-bath-and-the-weeping-woman/

Recommended2 Simily SnapsPublished in Fiction, Flash Fiction, Horror, Mystery/Thriller, Paranormal, Young Adult (YA)