TYLER WODEN | HORROR | A TIMELESS LULLABY | PART ONE: THE LULLABY | HORROR HOUNDS
A Timeless Lullaby— ‘A Disturbing Story Of A Young Woman’s Past Trauma Comes Back To Haunt Her.’
“I toss and turn, my bed sheets twisted around me. An ear-splitting melody seeps through the walls of the bedroom. It’s an ethereal siren song that beckons me to follow in its direction, out into the darkness beyond.”
Warning: The contents of this story are based on a real story, and the content within this story may disturb you. All of the characters are based on the author’s acquaintances but are fictional in their portrayal.
Part 1 — The Lullaby
I toss and turn, my bed sheets twisted around me. An ear-splitting melody seeps through the walls of the bedroom. It’s an ethereal siren song that beckons me to follow in its direction, out into the darkness beyond. My chest aches with terror. Beside me, Josh sleeps unfazed. With each deep breath he takes, I can feel the irresistible pull of slumber drawing near.
Silver moonlight casts a menacing ambience upon the walls and furniture of the room as the unearthly music plays on. A chill runs down my spine. I wait until I’m sure he is sound asleep before I whisper his name softly, ‘Josh.’
Josh stirs, blinking sleep from his eyes. He mumbles something incoherently.
‘Do you hear that?’ I ask Josh cautiously, pointing at the wall behind us where the music originates from. ‘It sounds like a lullaby coming from outside.’
Josh contemplates this for a moment before replying, shaking his head hesitantly, ‘A lullaby? Probably just a dream.’
I shake my head. ‘No,’ I tell him determinedly. ‘I can hear it, and it’s been getting louder and louder for hours,’ I explain solemnly.
Josh rises out of bed with me. With the light on his phone guiding us, we tiptoe downstairs, careful not to wake up his peacefully sleeping parents. The only sound is the faint purring of Josh’s pet cat, nestled in her favourite corner chair. Beyond that, silence envelops us.
Josh gives me an exasperated look as I struggle to close the door without making too much noise. I show him an apologetic smile and grab onto his arm, entwining my fingers with his own as we move through the shadows cast by the night sky, ready to investigate this alluring yet fearful tune.
The door creaks open, ushering in a chill that causes my skin to tingle. I close the door behind us and take a moment to appreciate the beauty of the night. The crescent moon hangs between the branches of a tall tree, casting everything beneath its shadow into darkness.
Josh is watching his phone, completely oblivious to his surroundings. Suddenly, I hear something strange in the air — a lullaby so faint that it could be coming from anywhere. It hangs heavy like an invisible fog as I stand there listening. The wind rustles through the trees, carrying with it a sad melody.
I approach the fence, and the lullaby grows louder. A hole in the fence catches my attention. As I peer through it, I can barely perceive anything but silhouettes of plants. Yet, after some time, my eyes adjust to the darkness, and I catch sight of a door on the far side of the fence.
Josh startles me as he sneaks up from behind. His arms encircle me, and together, we peer through the hole.
‘What do you see?’ Josh murmurs into my ear.
I grip his arm, still gazing at the tall fence. ‘Whose house is that?’ I question.
Josh simply stares at me. The haunting lullaby fills the silence between us. After what feels like an eternity, Josh makes as if to embrace me, but instead, he playfully pinches my nipples, laughing. Reactively, I push him against the fence. It shudders, revealing a gap that wasn’t there before. Josh attempts to lead me away, but I resist.
‘Josh, answer my question,’ I press on.
Josh tries once more to pull me away, but I stand firm. To my astonishment, the house has vanished, leaving only the sprawling fields of Leicestershire in view.
‘Kelly,’ Josh begins, ‘Moments ago, you heard a lullaby. Just before, you saw a house.’ He pulls me close, yet the melody remains, underscored by his heartbeat. Gently caressing my face, he adds, ‘You’re knackered. You’ve not been sleeping properly for weeks. Let’s head to bed.’
I hesitantly ask, ‘So, you don’t see the house nor hear the lullaby?’
Shaking his head, he replies softly. Overwhelmed, I allow him to guide me back into the house, upstairs, and into the awaiting embrace of our bed.
My skin is cold and tingly as he undresses me in the bed. Our sex is fervent and passionate, but something is off this time. I’m distracted by the phantom house, and I can still hear the lullaby. My body starts to tingle, but I can’t finish what we started. Josh turns away from me in the dark, panting. He knows, too. His voice is soft when he breaks the silence. ‘Did you cum?’
I hum a positive response, eyes wide and lips sealed shut. Inside, I’m screaming so loud. ‘Yes,’ I lie. But I can’t enjoy our intimacy now.
I stare out at the moonlight from the bed, mesmerised. Then I lie beside Josh and reach out, wrapping my arms around him. ‘So warm,’ I murmur before pressing closer.
‘You’re cold,’ Josh whispers back and takes my hand.
Sleep is always hard for me after sex, and when I finally drift off, it’s no longer Josh’s bedroom that surrounds me. In a dreamscape of tall grass, a man stares through the fence. Frightened, I stumble back and run upstairs.
I scream as the man follows me into the empty bedroom. He grins at me but stays silent. Naked and with a huge erection, he stands in my bedroom. There is no one here. No one to protect me.
The man’s costume has pointy ears– similar to something I’ve seen before. He’s close enough that I feel his heat, yet I am scared of the familiarity. His hands go to my shoulders, steadying me as he sits on the bed beside me. His voice is like a lullaby, ‘You look good, baby.’ Star-like twinkles in his eyes. He puts a smaller version of the ears on me too. ‘Let’s play a game,’ he says, and my heart quivers in terror. ‘We’ll both be Elves, Okay? You’re my little Elf.’
I freeze as the music box plays its tune in the background.
His actions, the trace of his fingers on my naked skin chill me to my core.
I jolt up and race past him towards the house across the yard. No fence stands in my way this time and a faint light beckons from within the doorway.
The oppressive darkness clings to every corner of the kitchen as I stand here, swallowed by the eerie silence. My breath, shallow and ragged, echoes in the obscurity. The faint flicker of a single candle on the countertop offers meagre resistance against the shadows that press in from all sides.
But it isn’t the darkness that sends shivers down my spine. It’s the insidious lullaby, a mournful tune that begins as a distant whisper but now swirls around me like a haunting spectre. The melody seeps into my very bones, a sinister serenade that seems to emanate from the very walls themselves.
Every corner of the room becomes a potential hiding place for malevolent forces, their presence hinted at by the eerie strains of the music. The flickering candlelight plays tricks on my eyes, casting sinister shapes on the walls, turning ordinary objects into grotesque silhouettes.
I inch forward, the floorboards creaking beneath my every step, as if they too are conspiring to reveal my presence to whatever lurks in the darkness. My fingers brush the cool surface of the kitchen surface, sending a chill racing up my arm.
The lullaby swells, its notes becoming more dissonant, and I can swear it’s coming from just behind the cupboard. My heart pounds in my chest as I approach it, my trembling hand gripping the handle. With a slow, trembling pull, I swing the cupboard door open.
The interior is shrouded in an impenetrable gloom. The music is now deafening, assaulting my senses from all directions. It seems to be emanating from a hidden source, teasing me with its presence. I reach inside, my fingers fumbling through the void, searching for answers.
And then, my fingers brush against a rough, wooden surface. The sound of the lullaby grows louder, more insistent, as if urging me to go further. With a deep breath, I press my hand against the wall behind the cupboard.
The wall gives way, revealing a small hidden passage. The lullaby, now a cacophony of nightmarish chords, engulfs me. With trepidation, I enter the child-sized tunnel.
Crawling through the tunnel, I feel the walls close in around me, squeezing the breath from my lungs. The darkness is absolute, and the lullaby, now a dissonant cacophony, gnaws at my nerves like a relentless predator.
My heartbeat is a drumming mantra in my ears, matching the rhythm of the haunting melody. Each inch forward is a battle against the suffocating confines of the passage. My body trembles, and the panic, a festering knot in my chest, threatens to erupt.
The tunnel twists and turns, a labyrinth of claustrophobic dread. I can barely see beyond the reach of my fingertips. I drag myself forward, the rough ground scraping against my skin, the oppressive closeness weighing on me.
Inside the chamber, the dimly lit space is adorned with twinkling fairy lights shaped like stars and moons. They are lit, but just barely, as if powered by an almost-dead battery. Their faint glimmers cast eerie shadows, and the play of their feeble light dances on the walls, creating an otherworldly tableau.
The tiny stars and crescent moons, once comforting symbols of someone’s childhood, feel like mocking spectres in this long-forgotten place. The air is heavy with memories, and I shiver as the lullaby wraps around me one more, blending with the melancholy glow of the fading lights, creating a haunting atmosphere that sends a chill racing down my spine.
As I explore the chamber, my eyes fall upon a dusty, old music box perched on a small wooden pedestal. It’s exquisitely crafted, and the details of the ballerina on top are unnervingly lifelike. The figure is dressed in a tattered, frayed tutu, and her porcelain face bears a sinister smile. Her eyes, though mere glass beads, gleam with an eerie, malevolent glint.
The ballerina’s origin seems Russian, her features and clothing evoking a sense of Slavic folklore, but there’s something utterly wrong in the way her limbs contort, as if frozen mid-dance, or perhaps caught in some macabre ritual. Her fingers are twisted and elongated, giving her a grotesque appearance.
As I reach out to touch the music box, I notice a seam down the centre of the ballerina. With a careful, trembling grasp, I pull her apart, revealing a hidden key within her hollowed-out form. The key emanates a ghostly glow, casting eerie illumination that flickers in the chamber. Shadows in the chamber, they are with me now. Dancing. Laughing. I never realised how much I feared the shadows.
-End of Part One-
That’s all from me today. Until next time.
~TW~