This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.
The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/TheBatBelfry on 2024-09-25 09:37:13+00:00.
I was 8 years old when I last saw my mother. We lived in a somewhat big house out in the countryside. A decent drive from the nearest towns and cities.
One night, I heard cries and screams coming from the walls. I yelled for my mom who burst in worried. The voices didn't stop but my mom didn't seem to notice.
She banged on the walls and ordered the voices to stop and to let me sleep. They did as she asked.
Three nights after, I got in the shower and turned on the water. Blood, boiling hot blood spit out of the showerhead. I screamed as it slowly burned my face and body.
My mother pulled me out quickly and dried me off with a towel. The white towel turned red as she wiped away the blood all over me.
A week later, I went back into the bathroom to brush my teeth. The lightbulb overhead began to flicker and in the quick instances that the room was dark, I saw a man staring back at me through the mirror.
He looked pale and skinny, as if he hadn't eaten in days. The light stopped flickering and I almost played it off as an illusion until a bloody handprint appeared on the mirror.
It was the last weekend before school starts. I laid in my bed and must have snoozed off for a good few minutes to half an hour when my closet door opened.
Inside stood a woman, pale and skinny like the man in the mirror. I didn't know what I was seeing at first from how dark it was but it became clear once the woman rushed to my bed and began to strangle me.
Her cold grip tightened as she accused me of killing her husband. That's when my mom burged in and with an axe in hand, swung it at the woman. The woman's head came completely off and landed on my lap.
I screamed in absolute fear as my mom told me to hush. “It's time I showed you something,” I remember her saying.
She took my hand and escorted me into my closet. She led me through a narrow tunnel that connected to every room in the house, behind the walls.
My memory on everything I saw is still fuzzy. Maybe I chose to forget from how horrifying the sights were. I do remember however, following my mother into the basement.
Not our primary basement but another one hidden and tucked underneath the first. Her exact words I rather not repeat. Just know that she was very disappointed in me and that I should just have kept quiet like a good boy.
I don't know why. If there is a why. She began to bite into my neck, then my shoulder. She trailed her teeth down my arm, ripping away as much flesh as she could hold in her mouth. I cried and pleaded with her but she wouldn't listen.
In a movie, in this exact moment. Someone would burst through the door at the last second to save me. Maybe a cop. Perhaps a relative. A friend.
The only reason I lived to tell my story is because for whatever reason, in that twisted psychotic mind my mother had. Whatever little motherly love and instinct she held onto, kicked in.
She let go, apologizing in a calm manner. She left me laying on the ground as I could no longer scream and instead gasped for air as I stared at the open wounds she gave me.
She snatched the phone from the wall and called 911. I know it was 911 because she told whoever answered the phone everything, and everybody she killed. And how I was now lying on the floor on the verge of death and that if they don't arrive in 20 minutes, she would put me out of my misery.
The cops showed up some 15 minutes later and raided the house. They took my mother into custody and rushed me to the hospital.
I didn't get to hear the report on her until I finally got to my 20's. Even with all the details, I still didn't get what was the purpose. Why did she do all that.
The voices in the wall belonged to people she buried inside, using their skin as wallpaper.
The blood in the shower came from the bleeding bodies that she used to 'fix the plumbing'. It was hot because my mother thought if she left the water boiling they would disintegrate.
The mirror was two way with the inside looking into the restroom. The flickering light was just a standard faulty lightbulb.
The woman that came out of my closet went nuts after potential weeks of little to no nutrition. She attacked me thinking I was aware and helping my mother.
To this day, I don't know what was going on in my mother's head. The cops can't find any logical explanation for such drastic crimes.
I just tell myself the house was haunted and she was possessed to move on with my life. It's the only thing I can really do...