Chapter 3: The Things You Buried

Adrian couldn’t move.

The boy—himself—sat on the edge of the bed, smiling like he had been waiting for this moment his entire life.

“…now you can stay forever.”

The words echoed, not just in the room—but inside Adrian’s head.

“No…” Adrian whispered, shaking. “No, I’m not staying here.”

The boy’s smile widened.

“You said that before.”

A sharp ringing filled Adrian’s ears.

“Before?” he repeated. “What do you mean before?!”

The lights flickered.

The walls began to pulse again—that slow, sick rhythm like a heartbeat.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

The boy slid off the bed.

Bare feet hitting the floor softly.

“You don’t remember?” he asked, tilting his head. “You always forget.”

Adrian backed away.

“I’ve never been here.”

The boy stopped.

Then slowly—

His expression changed.

Not anger.

Not sadness.

Something worse.

Disappointment.

“…you always say that too.”

The room shifted.

The drawings on the walls began to change.

Crayons dragging across paper without hands.

New images forming.

Adrian turned, his breath catching.

Stick figures.

A house.

A tall figure.

A smaller one beside it.

And then—

Red.

Everywhere.

The smaller figure scratched out.

Over and over again.

“No…” Adrian whispered. “I didn’t draw that…”

The boy stepped closer.

“Yes, you did.”

The temperature dropped.

“You just don’t remember why.”

Adrian clutched his head.

Fragments—images—flashed through his mind.

Rain hitting windows.

A voice shouting.

A door slamming.

His mother crying.

“Stop…” he groaned. “Stop it…”

The boy leaned in, his voice soft and almost gentle.

“She was angry that night.”

Adrian’s eyes widened.

“No.”

“You locked the door.”

“I didn’t—”

“You left her outside.”

“STOP.”

The room trembled violently.

Furniture scraping across the floor on its own.

The boy’s voice grew louder.

“She was calling your name.”

“I WAS A KID!” Adrian screamed, tears streaming down his face. “I WAS SCARED!”

Silence.

For a moment—

Everything stopped.

The boy stared at him.

And then—

“…and she never came back.”

The lights went out.

Darkness swallowed the room completely.

Adrian gasped, reaching out blindly.

“I didn’t mean to…” he whispered, voice breaking. “I didn’t know…”

A hand touched his.

Cold.

Too cold.

“You knew,” the boy said from the darkness.

And then—

Something else grabbed him.

From behind.

Then another.

Hands.

Dozens of them.

Clawing.

Pulling.

Adrian screamed as he was dragged backward across the floor.

“No! LET GO—!”

The walls split open.

Revealing something beneath.

Flesh.

Rotting.

Moving.

The house wasn’t wood.

It wasn’t brick.

It was alive.

“You see it now,” the boy’s voice echoed everywhere.

“This is what remembers.”

Adrian was pulled deeper, his fingers scraping against the floor, trying to hold on to anything.

The surface peeled away like skin.

Beneath it—

Faces.

Hundreds of them.

Frozen in silent screams.

Eyes wide.

Mouths open.

All trapped inside the walls.

“They all tried to forget,” the voice continued. “Just like you.”

A face near Adrian’s hand suddenly moved.

Its lips trembled.

“…help… me…”

Adrian froze.

“They didn’t leave,” the boy whispered.

“They became part of it.”

Adrian thrashed violently.

“I’M NOT LIKE THEM!” he screamed. “I’M NOT STAYING HERE!”

The pulling stopped.

Suddenly.

Completely.

Adrian dropped hard onto the ground.

Silence.

Heavy.

Oppressive.

Then—

Footsteps.

Slow.

Deliberate.

The boy stepped into view again.

But he wasn’t the same anymore.

His face was… wrong.

Cracked.

Like something was trying to break out from inside him.

“You don’t understand,” he said quietly.

The cracks spread.

Darkness leaking through.

“You already belong here.”

Adrian shook his head, backing away.

“No… no, I can leave… there has to be a way out…”

The boy smiled again.

But now—

It stretched too far.

Splitting his face open.

“You never left.”

The world snapped.

Adrian stood outside the house.

Breathing heavily.

The fog rolled around him.

The gate behind him.

His car still parked where he left it.

Everything… normal.

He stumbled backward.

“I got out…” he whispered. “I actually got out…”

The front door of the house stood closed.

Silent.

Still.

Like nothing had ever happened.

Adrian let out a shaky laugh.

“Okay… okay, I’m done… I’m leaving… I’m never coming back…”

He turned toward his car.

Took one step.

Then another.

Then—

He stopped.

Something felt… wrong.

Too quiet.

Too familiar.

Slowly—

He looked down at his hands.

They were covered in dust.

Dark.

Almost like ash.

His breath hitched.

From behind him—

The front door creaked open again.

“…Adrian…”

He didn’t turn around.

He didn’t want to.

Because deep down—

He already knew.

He hadn’t escaped.

The house had just…

Let him leave.

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