The House of Crimson Walls

If walls could talk, other than me, what would they say? What could they do? How could such a thing occur? I knew the answers for me, but what about others outside this prison? Is this the only house of talking walls? I wondered about this until my train of thought was interrupted.

Clouds swirled, thunder crackled, and rain cascaded relentlessly in the dark of night. The monstrous orange moon rose over the jagged mountain peeks like a giant malevolent face, peering and grinning as if it gained pleasure from the torture it had witnessed alongside me. It too was there when the boy arrived.

The haunting image was burned into my sluggish mind. I remembered perfectly the twin beams suddenly slashing through the abyss and racing down the mountain. The blinding lights grew brighter and brighter as the roaring automobile approached. I watched closely as it stopped, and two armed men stepped out into the torrential downpour.

Entryway Three spoke to me, "I wonder who they're bringing this time."

Lightning crashed as the muscular men walked around to the trunk, and threw it open with a crunch of metal on metal. They reached for a crumpled figure inside, and were met with frantic begging, screaming, and flailing of weak limbs. Entryway Two sighed, "When will they ever learn that they're never going back home? They're lives are over. Don't they know that?"

Entryway Three spoke again, "I wonder what he did. Or, was it someone he's affiliated with?"

The men painfully kicked my door down, threw the crying child onto the hard wooden floor, then locked the door behind them. I saw them walk away, but the glass on the door was too foggy for the boy to see beyond it. Likely, he had only heard their echoing footsteps disappear. He let out a bloodcurdling scream, banging on the door to get their attention, begging to be released. Eventually he collapsed to his knees, then onto his side.

I vaguely pondered what he must have gone through. The cuts and bruises lining his face and limbs, the bloody and broken fingernails implied that he had been tortured.

I looked at the boy's crumpled form, huddled on the bare floor, Would it be better if I do not say anything?

I decided to calmly introduce myself, "Hello little one."

The boy lurched to his knees, frantically looking around, his voice cracking, "Wh- who's there?!"

I could see the terror in his eyes, he must have endured pure horror. I decided to speak calmly, "It is me, the wall."

The boy scanned his surroundings again, looking at each of our dark blue peeling wallpaper, "Who?"

Wall Four asked, "This again?!"

I added, "Not a who, a what. We are the walls."

The boy's bewilderment was written all over his dirty face, along with his fear and uncertainty, "What?"

"I am the only one that you can hear, and I speak for the others."

"What..."

The boy paused for a moment, "Where am I?"

Living Room Two echoed from afar, "The Gladdion Family Mansion!"

I stated, "They call this place The House of the Crimson Walls, because of the red symbols you see on those of us who inhabit this place."

Living Room Two, ever tedious, "But that's not what it's actually called! That's just the nickname!"

The boy staggered to his feet, staring at each of us one by one. He studied the crudely drawn crimson U on the center of each wall. Then, he asked, "What’s The House of Crimson Walls?"

"It is home to us."

The boy, still shaking, glanced around for the millionth time, still not understanding where my voice was coming from, "Which one are you?"

"I am the one with the door."

The boy turned to the door, scanning my peeling, molding wallpaper. Fear tinged his shakey voice, "Well, it's nice to meet you. What's your name?"

I chuckled, "I am just the wall. But the others call me Living Room One. Or, Living Room Door."

"Living Room Door?"

"Indeed. Now, what is your name?"

The boy hesitated a moment too long before finally whispering, "Merlin."

"What a wonderful name!”

The other walls kept nagging me, but I focused on Merlin. He stood up, locking his timid gaze on the door, "Can... can you help me, mister Wall?"

I tried to calm him, "I know you are frightened, but there is nothing to be scared of. Those men cannot get back inside unless I let them, which I will not."

"Why’d you ever let them in?"

"It was either that, or let you stay with them."

After a moment of silence, I continued, "Anyway, unfortunately you will have to stay here to avoid them."

"Like a prison?"

"Yes. Although, we will try our best to make it the nicest prison possible."

Merlin thrashed his head his bloody fingers gripping his shaggy hair, "I don't wanna stay here! I wanna go back to my dad!"

I tried to calmly persuade Merlin, "It is not safe outside for-"

Merlin interrupted, yelling, "I don't care!"

He dropped to his knees, turning his gaze to the ground, whimpering, "Where's my dad?"

I sighed, "Well, I guess if you really want to, we can allow you to escape."

Merlin looked up at me with glistening eyes, sniffling, "Really?"

"Yes. But, I do believe it would be better for you to wait a while. You should get cleaned up today, and then tomorrow night I will give you instructions on how to leave."

Merlin wiped salty tears with his arm, "Why?"

"Because they are expecting you to attempt escape immediately. Trust me, I know how they think. It would be beneficial to disguise yourself, as well as get some food and rest so you are full of energy for tomorrow night’s escape."

"I want to leave now!"

Entryway Three suggested, "He is only a child. Perhaps he trusts us enough already?"

I considered that, then said softly, "Alright. If it is what you want, I can guide you out. But you need to follow my instructions exactly. Do you understand?"

Merlin nodded.

"Good. Now, in the attic, there is a big hammer."

Basement One chimed in, "Send him to me!"

I continued, "Once you have it, you will need to go to the basement. You will hammer a hole in the wall that is large enough for you to walk through. Not crawl through, walk through."

Merlin tilted his head, confused, "Isn't the basement underground."

"Mostly. But the wall just to the left of the one with the crimson mark is not, it leads to a dark tunnel. Keep walking until you see the light, it will lead you to a path down the mountain. I believe it leads to a village, but I am not certain."

Merlin looked around the room again, "Are there any lights?"

"Unfortunately, no. The moonlight should be enough for you to find your way into the attic, then to the basement. Although the basement will be dark, and you will not be able to see into the tunnel. But if you just keep moving forward, you will eventually find your way."

I saw the uncertainty in Merlin's eyes, but he nodded, "Okay. Thank you!"

Merlin, although doubtful, was willing to follow my instructions. That it all we needed, not optimal, but good enough.

Merlin turned around, staring through the oppressive blackness, finally noticing the opening at the back of the room, "Where's the attic?"

Hammer in hand, Merlin followed my instructions exactly. He started down the long dark stairway to the basement. Basement One narrated his progress.

Merlin slammed the hammer the paper thin wall, easily cracking its surface. He swung again, and again, and again; decayed pieces flying, rotted chunks thudding to the ground.

Then, Merlin was staring at a gaping maw large enough for him to walk through. The pitch black abyss engulfed the entirety of the opening beyond, where anything could be hiding anything inside its malignant mass. I knew perfectly what lurked within the abyss.

I shouted, "Go! Remember to only move forward!"

Merlin dropped the hammer, then stepped inside. Even though I could not witness the event, I was all too familiar with it. I listened intently on Basement One's description, painting a vividly violent picture in my mind.

The slimy carapace emerged from the darkness, plugging the hole behind Merlin as the wall began regenerating. He screamed, fighting through the tendrils wrapping around his body. He managed to thrust a hand through the fleshy mass before the wall fully reformed. He tried desperately to grab hold of something, but grasped nothing. He tried to scream again, but a tendril had clasped his throat and yanked him back.

Merlin's hand was torn back as the wall completed its regeneration. He tried to let out one last scream in his dying breath, but was blocked by the wriggling tentacles. Then, he became quieter; then silenced.

Blood seeped from the wall, accompanied by the tearing of flesh, breaking of bone, and grinding of organs. The blood soaked into the wallpaper. It writhed, swirling into the familiar circular U-shaped pattern. After a moment of silence, Basement One informed me, "I believe it's finished."

I spoke calmly, as I no longer needed to raise my voice for Merlin to hear me, "Merlin... how do you feel?"

After a moment of silence, Merlin replied, "I feel... incredible!"

The other walls cheered as I chuckled, "Indeed. You will now be known, as Basement Two."

"I love that name!"

"But I would like to clarify."

"Yes?"

"I say this with every newcomer. I am the first of the walls, and if anything were to happen, I am going to make sure I am the last of the walls."

Rain, wind, cold. Moon, sky, dark.

I stood still against the crashing storm as I always had. There was, after all, nothing I could do without limbs. Odd how it all worked. I had been standing for many weeks, only making conversation with my fellow walls to pass the time, until I saw twin beams cutting through the darkness from behind the jagged mountain range. I grinned, knowing now that all the others, even the newest member, Basement Two, could feel my pleasure even if they could not witness the sight with me.

I said happily, "We have another one. Everyone, take your positions."