Short Story

Chills In The Night

Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶

Written for Today’s Writing Practice #4
where we’re given today’s prompt.
Here’s where the prompt took me.

The Prompt: A man wakes up in the middle of the night to the sound of whispers. At first, he thinks it’s the radio, but when he checks, it’s turned off. The whispers grow louder, until he realizes they’re coming from inside the walls. One voice cuts through the rest – and it knows his name.

© iStock

Something woke me up from a dead sleep. I was groggy and unsure of where I was. Slowly, as the cobwebs started leaving my head, I became aware of a soft rustling sound, not unlike leaves blowing in the wind, but the windows were closed. It was probably just the remnants of a late night radio show I’d been listening to. I checked the time; it was 3:17AM and the radio was off.

I fell back onto my bed, staring up at the ceiling. The rustling noises no longer sounded like leaves; they were more like whispers. An uneasiness fell over me as the whispers intensified. Indistinct murmurs and mumblings echoed from my bedroom walls, almost as if the house itself were alive.

I closed my eyes and covered my ears to block out the whispers but one voice rose above the others, clear and chilling, and my eyes flew open in a panic. The voice was calling my name. Why was this happening to me and how did this voice know my name? I had to get the answers or I would go crazy.

As I sat on my bed in the dimness of my room, something caught my eye. It was the palest shade of blue light peeking through the bottom of my closet door. Slowly, I got off the bed and walked to the closet. I reached out for the doorknob and recoiled in shock; it was ice cold. Steeling myself, I pulled open the door and looked inside. The chorus of whispers grew ever louder, the closet walls pulsating and calling out my name. Taking a deep breath, I walked into the closet.

The moment I stepped inside, the loud whispering stopped and I stood there with my eyes closed, at peace with the silence. It was then I became aware of a change in temperature inside the closet. In a matter of seconds, I felt like I was standing inside an icebox. That’s when one piercing whisper said my name; it was the voice of death. Frozen in place, the closet door slammed shut behind me and I screamed even though I knew no one would hear me.

NAR©2025

This is “I Hear Voices” by Lazer

Today’s Writing Practice


All text and graphics are copyright for Nancy Richy and are not to be used without permission. NAR©2017-present.

46 thoughts on “Chills In The Night”

  11. Your scary and mysterious story, inspired some words, Nancy

    The walls coolly whispered, “we were framed”
    Then coldly proclaimed
    “Life’s a twisted game and it’s an inflamed shame
    that you’ll be the one to wear the blame”

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

Tell me what you're thinking. 🖊️