Hundreds of black wings smashed into more black wings. His eyes locked on what should have been a white wall. Flies latched onto panel, moving as one, thick and twitching.
Thud. his hand smacked the wall.
Thud. a black smear bled across it.
He blinked. Still the buzzing persisted.
Thud. more flies fell to the floor.
“What the hell are you doing?” the voice came with a pressure on his shoulder like a hand.
“You’re ruining the walls.”
Ben looked at his hand. then at the man behind him. Then at the wall, still pulsing with flies.
“Hello? Can you hear me? Am I talking to myself?”
More flies came to replace their fallen family.
“Why the hell are you beating the walls kid?”
The buzzing of the flies hammering into the panel became too much for Ben to bear. He turned and rushed into the house and down the stairs. The buzzing was still in his ears even as he walked, not wings, now thoughts. In the basement he found a room, white walls, bare of any furniture and sun pouring through a high window.
This will be my room he decided.
***
Above him, the floors creaked under new weight. a man and woman carried boxes into an empty bedroom.
“We’re finally here, huh?” the man said with a smile. “Doesn’t it feel good to have a house to call our own?”
The woman didn’t smile back. “We’re renting, Jerry,” she said, setting a box down with a thud.
Jerry’s brow tightened. “You know, your son was already trying to make a mess of the house.”
She paused, looking at him. “I’m sure he’s just stressed out about this whole process. It can’t be easy for him.”
The man rolled his eyes. “I had to move plenty of times as a teenager and I never complained as much as he does, and I certainly never tried to ruin the damn walls.”
The woman sighed and stared up at the ceiling “I’ll go talk to him, make sure he’s alright.” she said as she walked away and down the stairs.
***
In Bens room the silhouette of a woman stood in the doorway.
He looked towards her, his mother. The light from the hallway cast her in shadow, but he knew it was her. For a moment she said nothing as she stepped inside and sat beside her son.
With a delicate touch, she ran her fingers through his brittle hair.
“how ya feelin’, kid?”
He shrugged.
Her hand lingered for a moment more.
“It’s gonna be okay” she murmured
“You know, I heard the only seasons around here are winter and construction.” she shot to her feet and looked out the window. “But I don’t know, it looks pretty sunny out there to me.” her eyes met Ben’s, a soft smile crossed her face. “Go explore the new yard, let me know what you find.”
***
Inside the house felt isolated, bare and comfortable
The outside, hot loud and unknown.
The grass scratched his ankles, warm and dead. Something smacked into his hand. A grasshopper, all its legs clamping onto his finger like a ring that fit just a little too tight. After a pause it launched and spread its wings. Beautiful.
The sun bore down, not too much to handle but, some shade sounded nice. He scanned the yard. A shed sat at the far end, shadowed in pine. He stepped towards it.
The shed grew disheveled as he approached. The window opaque with a film of dust, paint peeling off revealing dry, grey wood.
Jerry’s gonna make me repaint this one day.
The door was thick, with a steel latch and a metal rod jammed through where a padlock should’ve been.
Ben removed the rod and blinked. He swung the door open.
Maybe it was the cobwebs. Maybe it was a healthy aversion to dark, musty sheds. But something sent a tingle from his spine to the lobes of his ears.
The shed let out a breath, thick musty and old. A scent so vivid it might’ve wilted the grass if it weren’t already dead. He stepped inside. The dark swallowed him whole. Blind, he pawed at the walls, fingers brushing dust and splinters.
Flick.
A single dust covered bulb buzzed on, lighting the room in patches. A saw, buckets of nails, inanimate shapes that he couldn’t quite identify cluttered the room.
Then,
“Turn that off please.” A voice. Not angry. Not loud.
But present.
Ben froze, that same tingle in his ear lobes.
He bolted out the door, across the grass, down slanted steps, past his mother, right past Jerry, and into his room. He didn’t close the door or turn on the lights. Just took in the cool air.
The cold concrete floor comforted Ben’s body. The blank, predictable walls comforted his mind.
Am I that far gone? I didn’t hear a voice in a shed. obviously. It must’ve been… Something else.
He tapped his fingers in a rhythm he’d worked hard to replicate.
Slow at first.
Then too fast.
Missed a beat.
Start again.
I don’t believe in ghosts. Or maybe I do. But not in my shed.
I do believe in people trying to kill me and living in my shed, though.
Or maybe… someone in need of help.
The sun sank behind the mountains, and stars blinked awake.
Red flashlight in hand ben unlatched a heavy door and stepped outside.
The yard was alive with noise:
crickets creaking, coyotes whining,
pine trees rustling at the whims of the wind,
though none rang louder than his feet, creeping through the dry grass.
The shed towered over him now, bigger than he remembered. Or maybe it was the way the flashlight shined in his hand, swaying back and forth with his steps. The lightbulb still glowing from before. The door hung open. The air clear and cold.
Ben stopped. Breathing in 4 seconds and out for 6 seconds. From the bottom of his lungs came a voice, deeper than he knew possible. “Hello”
The wind hit the back of his neck, pushing him forward.
“Anybody in there?” Ben turned the corner into the shed, lighting every corner. The same tingling feeling reached his ear lobes, this time with urgency.
He wasn’t expecting much. Maybe a wanderer, he had even accepted the idea of a ghost.
But this…
This never crossed his mind.
Her bones were barely covered in flesh. Her eyes too big for her skull, too tired to fear him, skin as pale and smooth as paper.
“Stop shinin’ that thing at me,” she rasped.
submitted by /u/Balindajobs
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