WALL MEN: A Haunted House (The Wall Men 1)

“I’ll be sure to let my boss know you were thinking of him.” I’ll leave out the part about him being a useless fuckhole or lighting his dick on fire.

“And,” Grandma Rain adds, “you be sure to read that speech at my funeral. Word for word. No sugarcoating. I want those pieces of shit to know how little their lives mean.”

Doubt anyone could miss the meaning. The speech literally says, You’re all useless pieces of shit. Rot in hell.

I want to roll my eyes. How’s it possible to be filled with so much hate in one’s final moments? Also, she and I both know that no one from town is going to her funeral.

“Shouldn’t you be thinking about things that make you happy, Grandma? Your garden? Master? All your books?” Me?

“You think I’ve been hanging on for hours just to take a piss down memory lane? Get your head out of your ass, child. I’ve got something important to say, so you listen and listen good. From this day forward, there is no place in your life for happy thoughts. Put it out of your stupid head.” She grabs my wrist, digging her nails into my skin.

“Ow. What are you doing? Let go.” I try to pull away, but she digs in harder.

The nurse said she’d be out of it, but Grandma Rain seems disturbingly lucid, her pale blue eyes intense.

“Lake, I broke the rules. Once and only once. It cost me your mother’s life. Your father’s, too. Not that I gave a crap about him. Useless prick. But you loved that man. And you lost him because of me.”

Outside, the sun is suddenly eclipsed by a dark cloud, casting a gray shadow over the room. The air around us instantly chills, and the fine hairs on the back of my neck stiffen.

“Are you saying you had something to do with their disappearance?”

“I had everything to do with it,” she spits. “I turned my back on the rules for one minute, and the Wall Men took them. They did it to punish me because I wouldn’t set them free.”

What the…?

My horror turns to deep sadness as I realize she’s fallen into a delusional state. Grandma Rain has always marched to her own beat—hanging lavender sachets over doors, lighting massive sage bonfires on the front lawn during full moons, and planting quartz crystals all over the property. But this is different. This is crazy talk.

I pry her hand off my wrist. “Just try to relax, okay? I’ll call the nurse.” I reach for the cord with the button by her side.

“No!” She smacks my hand away.

“Grandma! You can’t hit—”

“You must hear what I have to say, Lake. You must listen. The monsters on the other side of my bedroom wall are nothing like in the fairy tales. They will strip the flesh from your bones, slice by slice. They will drain your blood to fill their goblets. They will rape you, rip the child from your swollen belly, and eat it while you watch.” Her voice lowers to a chilled whisper, her eyelids twitching with emotion. “They don’t just want to end us, Lake. They want to hurt us first. They want to watch humans scream.”

I cover my mouth. I don’t know how to process the disgusting thoughts coming from her mouth. I get that she’s not of sound mind, but where is all this coming from?

“Stop, Grandma, just stop,” I say in a firm but calm tone. “I don’t want to hear any more.”

“Foolish girl. I’m trying to tell you something. The only thing protecting the wall between us and the pain are the Wall Men. The monsters fear them because they are a thousand times more vicious than anything else. Which is why you must never unchain them from the wall. Do you understand? You must never give in. They will use threats. They will use your fear against you, and if that fails, they will try to seduce you.”

Seduce? What the hell?

She continues, “But they are violent, soulless men, Lake. They only feel hunger—for bloodshed, fucking, food. It is their hunger that feeds their blind rage and keeps us safe. Never forget that. And above all, girl, you keep that damned bedroom door closed. Do not go inside. It is too dangerous.” She points a shaky finger in my face. “Promise me you’ll read my journals. All the rules are there. I’ve left them for you in my office.”

“Grandma, I—”

“Promise!”

“Okay, I promise.” I know she’s dying and on meds, but I’m suddenly realizing her words are not the result of either. She’s disturbed. Grandma Rain has always kept the master bedroom door locked. She’s never stayed in there once that I’m aware of. Always slept on the couch in her study.

So this is why? All these years, she believed there were men chained to the wall inside, guarding us from monsters?