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The Whispering Couch

A. H. Mittelman

By Alex H Mittelman Published 2 months ago Updated 2 months ago 10 min read
The Whispering Couch
Photo by Elijah Hiett on Unsplash

Ricky grabbed a cold can of soda from his fridge and sat down in his new looking couch, popped the can and started drinking, unaware the couch always looked new despite being passed from owner to owner for hundreds of years, each time driving its owner insane.

That’s because this couch was special, this couch was made by Satan himself for King Zimiri of Israel in 876 BC. Yes, Satan was in fact doing eldritch and evil favors for people long before he was cast out of heaven.

King Zimiri did not find his fathers couch to be comfortable enough when he inherited the throne. King Zimiri hired all the best couch makers and silk sellers in his kingdom to make him a more comfortable couch, but no couch was good enough. Satan had heard about the Kings request for a comfortable couch, and heard of the failings of the kingdoms couch makers.

Satan, always willing to make a deal, showed up at the kings castle and offered King Zimiri a couch that would make him so comfortable he would never want to get up again in exchange for his soul.

King Zimiri, desperate for comfort, quickly agreed.

King Zimiri sat down and loved the comfort his new couch provided, for all of two minutes. Then the king started hearing voices. King Zimiri didn’t care, he was so comfortable he was able to ignore them, at least for a while. But day after day, the voices got worse and would whisper worse things, even more horrible then the day before. The whispers told him he was a horrible king, that he deserved to die. The couch told him his people hated him and all his guards were planning on assassinating him. Then the couch told the king that he was in terrible pain. So the king felt pain. The couch told King Zimiri he was feeling depressed and all his bones were broken. So King Zimiri felt depressed, then screamed in agony as if his bones were actually being broken, even though they weren’t. Seven days later, the voices had driven King Zimiri insane, so he laid down on his evil couch, shouted “I’d rather die then get off my couch and be uncomfortable,” took out his sword and ran it through his neck. The couch absorbed the kings blood and looked perfectly clean, good as new.

The couch mysteriously found it’s way to thousands of new owners over the years, with the record for longest surviving owner being King Zimiri with seven days.

Normally the couch was bought at estate sales or given away by charities that had no idea the history of the accursed eldritch couch.

But Ricky, also blissfully unaware of the couches demonic and murderous history, ordered it on Amazon, the anonymous seller claiming it was brand new.

Ricky loved living with his senile grandmother, except when she would complain her old couch caused back pain. This new couch would help with that, Ricky was sure of it. It had to help or he would go insane from his grandmothers persistent kvetching.

Two days after he ordered the couch, it had arrived. The delivery guy helped move it in.

Neither him or his grandmother sat on the couch that night though. Ricky finished dinner and watched tv while sitting on the kitchen table chair and his grandmother was already settled into the old sofa which Ricky hadn’t gotten rid of yet. Then they headed upstairs to go to sleep.

The next night, however, the couch would be sat on.

Ricky returned home from a long day at work and called for his grandmother.

“Grandma, grandma, you home,” Ricky shouted.

“I’m upstairs. Come bring me down, I want to try my new damn couch. I’ve been waiting all damn day, I could drop dead any minute and you’re wasting time at work not helping me,” Ricky’s grandmother complained.

“Someone’s got to make money and pay the bills, grandma. Your social security ain't cutting it. So take it easy on me. It’s been a long day,” Ricky said while heading upstairs.

When he made it to his grandmothers room, she smacked him on the head with her cane and said “don’t you tell me to take it easy. I’m old, I’m entitled to say what I want. I could drop dead any minute, you know!”

“Yah, you said that already, you old bat,” Ricky said while rubbing his head.

“And that really hurt,” Ricky said.

That really hurt… don’t be such a baby and get me to that damn couch before I die,” Ricky’s grandma said in a mocking voice.

Ricky helped his grandmother downstairs and helped her to the couch, but Grandma refused to sit.

“I thought you wanted to enjoy your couch before you die,” Ricky said sarcastically.

“One minute, Ricky. I need to stretch my old knees before I sit. I’m old and if I don’t stretch my knees, I could die,” Ricky’s grandma said.

“Ha, ok grandma. You stretch and I’m going to get myself a soda” Ricky said.

Ricky grabbed a soda, popped it open, and when he got back to the couch, his grandmother was still stretching.

Ricky sat down, took a sip of his soda and heard a loud buzzing in his ear and his whole body started to vibrate. The room started to spin, Ricky got dizzy, all the lights started to flicker in the house and all the cabinet doors started to open and close on their own. Then he heard a soft, eldritch voice whisper in his ear.

“You’re grandmother’s going to die soon. Why not kill her now?” It said.

“What the hell?” Ricky shouted.

“Watch your language, young man. I could die any moment. I don’t want the last thing I hear to be your foul mouth because you love cursing,” Ricky’s grandma complained.

Ricky became irate and now had the strong urge to kill his grandmother.

“Shut up, you cranky old lunatic. If you die it’s because I’m going to kill you,” Ricky shouted and lurched at his grandmother. Grandma jumped back, but the second he got up from the couch, his rage subsided and the whispers stopped.

“What the hell’s wrong with you, Ricky. You could have given me a heart attack. I could have died,” Ricky’s grandma said.

“Sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I could swear the couch was whispering to me,” Ricky said.

“So the couch made you do it? That’s your excuse?” Ricky’s grandma said.

“I’m so sorry. I know it sounds strange, but that’s what happened. I swear,” Ricky said, his hands shaking.

“I need to sit,” Ricky’s Grandma said and sat down.

As soon as she was on the couch, she heard a voice whisper into her ear, whispering, "You're feeling pain.”

“Aaahh, Ricky, what’s going on. Why is the couch talking and why does everything hurt, aaahhh,” Ricky’s grandmother said and kept screaming.

Ricky pulled her off the couch.

“I told you. This things possessed or something,” Ricky said.

They stood for a minute in silence and stared at each other for a solid minute in disbelief.

“The couch is so comfortable, though. Let’s sit down and give it one more try. Maybe we were imagining things. I could die any minute, it would be nice to have a nice, soft comfortable couch like this one to die on,” Ricky’s grandmother said.

“Ok,” Ricky said and shrugged. They sat down on the couch together.

The second they did, the couch began to whisper again.

“You’re both in extreme, agonizing pain. Kill each other,” the couch whispered.

Ricky and his grandmother recoiled in agony, their hands clutching their chests as their hearts began thumping.

“You feel like your dying of heart attacks,” the couch whispered.

Ricky got up quickly from the demonic couch, then yanked his grandmother out of her seat.

The moment they stood up, the sinister, evil, maniacal and eldritch whispers from the evil hell couch ceased.

Ricky's heart was racing.

“You ok, grandma?” Ricky asked, panting.

“Of course I’m not. That couch just tried to kill me. I could have died,” Ricky’s grandma said.

"Grandma, this is strange,” Ricky said.

“I’m scared,” Ricky’s grandma said.

Grandma began to walk upstairs, motioned for Ricky to follow, and Ricky followed.

"We can't go back downstairs, Grandma. That malevolent couch is cursed," Ricky said.

“No kidding, yah mook. I could die any minute, and the last thing I want is to hear one of your stupid comments. Save your breath for something intelligent,” Ricky’s grandma said.

Ricky shrugged at his grandmother.

"Let's head upstairs and find a safe place to hide. I’ll call some friends to get rid of it. Until then, let’s stay safe,” Ricky said

Ricky and his grandmother began to walk upstairs. Ricky grabbed the handrails and heard the couch’s whisper.

“You’ll never escape me, ha ha ha,” the whisper said. Ricky quickly pulled his hand away from the handrail.

“Don’t touch the rails, grandma. The couch somehow got inside the rails,” Ricky said.

Ricky took his grandmother by the hand and walked her up the stairs faster.

They sat down in a chair and Ricky called his friends. He explained to his friends what had happened, and even though they thought he was crazy, they agreed to take the eldritch and evil couch off his hands.

They called Ricky when they were at the door and he went downstairs to let them in.

Ricky’s friends, Tim and Jimmy, took the couch to their truck and tossed it in the back.

“We should donate this thing to charity,” Tim said. Jimmy nodded in agreement.

“Don’t do that. It’s an evil couch. Chop it up and burn it. Send it back to hell where it belongs,” Ricky said.

Tim and Jimmy laughed at Ricky, then patted him on the back and told him everything would be ok.

Then Tim and Jimmy drove off with the couch.


While in the car, Jimmy said “my parents needs a new couch. There doesn’t appear to be anything wrong with this one, and I doubt it’s evil like Ricky said. He probably just heard the neighbors arguing or something.”

“So, give it to them, then,” Tim said. So that’s exactly what Jimmy did.


Ricky went back upstairs to find his grandmother writhing in pain on the bed and wrapped in bedsheets.

“Ricky, help me. The evil couch has transferred itself to the bed. I could die any minute, I don’t want to die like this,” Ricky’s grandmother screamed.

“I got you, Grandma,” Ricky yelled and grabbed his grandmothers hand.

As he attempted to pull her out, the sheets of the bed wrapped around his hand and arm, then dragged him into the bed, too. He couldn’t move and the whispers now started in his head again.

“You feel like you’re being tortured. You feel like you’re being burned in a Bronze Bull of Phalaris. You feel like you’re in an Iron Maiden and the spikes are crushing you. You feel like your arms are being stretched out and you’re laying in hot coal. You feel like all of your bones are broken. You feel like you’re being ripped apart by chariots going in opposite directions. You feel like you’re receiving the Blood Eagle. You feel as if you are being dissected by a surgeon, and you’re still awake with no numbing agents and you can feel every painful incision of the knife. You feel like you’re being eaten alive by lions,” the possessed bed whispered.

Ricky and his grandmother screamed for help for a full three hours while writhing in pain before finally wrapping the sheets around their faces to suffocate themselves to death.


The evil whispering demonic spirit floated back to the couch it had come from. Jimmy and Tim had just finished putting the couch in Jimmy's parents house.

“I need to rest,” Jimmy said.

“Me too. Let’s make use of this couch before we go,” Tim said.

Jimmy and Tim then sat down in the eldritch, evil whispering couch. Less then a minute later, they began to scream in pain.

thrillerYoung AdultShort StoryPsychologicalMysteryHorrorFantasy

About the Creator

Alex H Mittelman

I love writing and just finished my first novel. I’ve been writing since I was nine. I’m on the autism spectrum but that doesn’t stop me! If you like my stories, click the heart, leave a comment and a tip! Make a pledge! Thanks! Read more!

Reader insights

Nice work

Very well written. Keep up the good work!

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Comments (16)

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  • Geeta Maya Rai2 months ago

    wow Great piece...loved reading

  • Qandil fatima2 months ago

    Well written...amazing work

  • Mackenzie Davis2 months ago

    OH my goodness! I don't like how you ended it, now I'm gonna be paranoid by every new couch I sit on! (Also, I love how you ended, like Jumanji! The terror continues, but only the terror, no character arcs here, unless we get a sequel in the afterlife!) Fantastic read, Alex, I was riveted!

  • E.A. Wilcox2 months ago

    I'm just now catching up on my Vocal reading list! I thoroughly enjoyed this. I loved the unique plot! I really imagined this like an 80's horror film in my head while reading this as well which made it loads of fun to read.

  • ema2 months ago

    This is so good story! And I will never complaint about my old couch again! 😂

  • Mark Hightower2 months ago

    That couch really had reaper cushions!

  • Mother Combs2 months ago

    What an evil couch. Good job

  • Joshua Adebanjo2 months ago

    Nice story Alex

  • Abu Kamara2 months ago

    This is a good write up. Continue to contribute to humanity!.

  • Tiffany Gordon 2 months ago

    WOW! Brilliant storytelling Alex!

  • I was so shocked when the evil spirit was able to transfer to the railing and bed! Oh no, now Jimmy and Tim are gonna die! Loved your story!

  • Telaro2 months ago

    i like this story

  • Hannah Moore2 months ago

    Very imaginative!

  • Rachel Deeming2 months ago

    You can't escape the evil of the couch! I thought your description of the imagined torture that the couch was getting them to believe when they were wrapped in the sheets was so gruesome! Very eldritch indeed.

  • Nick Witkin2 months ago

    Great story!

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