The House That Listens
horror◐ TeenI wanted answers, so the next morning I drove to the library to dig up records on the house. The old clerk knew the address before I finished saying it. She slid a thick folder across the desk and whispered, "Read it here. Don't read it out loud."
Tucked in the folder was a faded photo of the house being built. A man stood out front holding a brass cone, like an old hearing trumpet. On the back someone had written: "He buried his listening machine under the floor so it would never go deaf." My stomach dropped. The thing wasn't the house. It was under it.
What happens next?
2 ways forwardWe pried up the floorboards in the basement and found it: the brass machine, half-buried in dirt, slowly turning toward the sound of our shovels. I dropped the shovel. "It hears us digging," I whispered. Mara was already pouring the gasoline. "Then let's give it one last thing to hear," she said, and struck the match.