The Gap in the Wall

"That is so cool! Your parents got you the whole set?!" I asked her.
"Yeah, they said it was cause I've been so brave lately. I'd never seen my dad cry either, it was weird."
She paused for a moment. Just for a moment though, Kris is always so quick to get back to fun things.
"Hey Em, let's build them into the two giant ones!" She beamed.
My friend Kris has been sick lately. At least that's what her parents said. She sleeps a lot, but apart from that she seems the same to me. Her parents aren't as funny as they were before she became ill. Daniel, her brother, is the same though. He's a couple years younger and so annoying.
Despite all that, I was excited. We were finally having a sleepover like normal! We hadn't had one for months. Probably not since my 10th birthday. Their new house is so cool looking. Kris' bedroom is up two sets of stairs, which are all super creaky, by the way. It's a really old house. They said it's Victorian.
We were getting ready to sleep after a really fun day. Super full from pizza! Her room is pretty awesome. The stairs come up right in the middle of the room. The weird thing about it though is there's this wall that looks like it cuts the room in half. Her parents said they keep meaning to knock down that wall to make the room bigger, but they just can't get around to it. It looks like they started at some point though, because there's a tall, thin gap in the wall. A few bricks lay on the floor around it.
It's dark in there and the wind makes a sort of howl.
After dinner we head back up to her room. We talk for hours. I love sleepovers, at least with Kris anyway. There's basically no sleep! Why even call it a sleepover? Just loads of time with my best friend!
"Have you seen Veronica's Life?"
"No, what's that?"
"Only like, the best show ever!"
More time passes. Her dad comes up and asks us to quieten down as he was struggling to get to sleep. I think maybe he was worried I was keeping Kris up too late, too. I get it though, she does sleep a lot more and she said she's really tired. Eventually she's asleep. I'm close to her bed in the rollout mattress thing. I'm looking up at her and, well, she doesn't seem in pain or anything. She looks peaceful. I can't figure out how she's sick at all.
I can't sleep yet. The gap in the wall is howling quietly again. That large tree in the garden is making sharp, creepy shapes on the wall. Kris always likes the curtains open.
The howl from the gap starts to rumble and becomes a low growl. I freeze, my eyes fixed on that corner of the room. From just under the covers, I see it.
Long, shadowy arms emerge from the dark gap. It's fingers splayed and strained as it clings to the wall. Those arms hauled a tall, thin, bald man in a black suit out from that dark place. Horrendously elongated in every aspect. Every aspect except for his head, which is so massive and circular it’s a wonder his emaciated frame can hold it up. His eyes are a pure white; glowing even.
I watch him as he stoops to avoid hitting the ceiling. Despite his awkward form, he moved slowly. Effortlessly. His arms and hands searching the room and clinging to pieces of furniture as he glides towards us. All of this done in near silence. Only the gentle creaking of floorboards and furniture as he moves.
He's very close to us now
I whimper, I couldn't control it. He stops and looks around the room. I freeze again.
Barely a moment later he is stood over Kris' bed, leaning directly over her. One of his arms creeps down from its grip on the lightshade and into his jacket. He takes an antique-looking syringe from an inside pocket. He's injecting it into her arm. What do I do? Do I do something? I don't know what to do!
His bony fingers pull back on the syringe and the room begins to light up. Except… that's not her blood. Blood is red. This is… bright!
Kris squirms weakly. She groans. But she isn't waking up.
The syringe goes back inside his jacket. He lumbers towards the wall, takes a thick red pen from the small desk and crosses the day off on her wall calendar. The month is filled with red crosses. He places the pen back, precisely as it was, and slowly strides back towards the gap in the wall.
Standing in the gap. He turns his head. Slowly. It twists further than a neck should. He's looking right at me. I shrink into the sleeping bag as much as I can. I'm terrified.
A few moments pass and for whatever reason, fear of him creeping up to me while I'm not looking, or some fleeting sense of bravery, I peek out from the cover of my sleeping bag. He's still right there. Staring. Motionless.
A creeping chill runs up my spine as a vicious smile spreads across his entire face. Teeth all jagged and filed into points. The corners of his mouth reach far up to the space between his eyes and ears. Bright eyes staring at me. His head stays perfectly in place as his body twists away and into the pitch black of the gap. His smile static as the rest of him disappears. A hand swims out of the dark to his face, gesturing me to remain silent. He holds for a moment. Then sinks away completely
I swear that I could hear a menacing laugh gently echoing away after he was gone.
I don't sleep. I watch the hole in the wall. I watch it until I can hear birdsong. Until I can see that faint glow of the Sun coming in to the window.
Finally, I hear Kris' parents downstairs. Crockery and pans rattling for breakfast. It's safe to get up, right? Monsters don't come out in the day. I walk over to check the calendar on the wall. Red crosses every single day. I flip back through the months. Not a single day missed. It started the day after her birthday…
I sneak over to her bedside, keeping a watch of that horrible monster's home.
"Kris, Kris, wake up…" I whisper, afraid there might be someone else listening to me.
She stirs.
"Kris, you've gotta sleepover at mine tonight."
She mumbles, "Okay Em, sounds fun."
Later on we tackled the harder part of that plan, convincing her parents to let us do it. They were really hesitant about it, but either persistent urging on our part, or giving them some time to think it over seemed to be enough. It's a good thing we're on summer holidays. My mum picked us up, and on the way, we make all our plans about how to spend the day.
At my house we have fun, watch films, play games, and I briefly manage to forget about my mission. I've brought her here to keep her safe from that… thing.
After dinner we watched some animated film, nothing scary. I was scared enough. Eventually Kris says she's feeling pretty tired, and while we're talking she falls to sleep mid-sentence. I don't remember what we were talking about.
I don't sleep. I watch over my friend. I don't want her to be hurt again. I try to stay awake. It's almost pitch black. I keep drifting. I'd be suddenly jerked awake by some small thing. A far-away siren. The motion-sensor light outside the neighbour's house.
I fall asleep.
A metal clunk and squeal immediately wakes us both up. It's my bedroom door, sunlight bursting in from the hallway, and my window. Mum's there cheerily sounding off in that very particular voice she reserves for the first thing in the morning.
"Get up, you pair of lazybones! You're not teenagers yet!"
At breakfast Kris seems a lot better. Not as tired as she has been. In fact, we spend most of the day together and she didn't need to stop or lie down once.
The time comes when she has to go home. "It's the holidays, mum!" I plead as I ask to go over to Kris' again. I don't want to go there, but… I know I can't leave her alone. I win her over, and about 30 minutes pass before her dad arrives.
He pulls up outside in that old maroon minivan they've had forever. It's started to rust in places, and the exhaust pops every now and then.
Kris bounds back up to her room, and I follow her cautiously. I don't even know if she has seen it. Do I tell her?
As I catch up to her in her room I look around. Nothing seems out of place, though that doesn't mean anything. Importantly I have to check the calendar. There's no red cross for yesterday. I look to the gap and I swear I hear the lowest growl rumbling from the dark. I have to tell her.
I turn to Kris and whisper, "I think we should sleep at my house again tonight."
No sooner than I finish my thought, something bangs against the central wall and all the picture frames bounce against it. One hits the floor and the glass shatters. We both jump in fright. It's the picture of us from last summer. Kris picks it up and turns to me. She whispers back, "You're not safe here," and hands me the picture from the broken frame.
My face has been scratched away, and the same frantic white etches spell out two words on it.
NOT YOURS
The wall bangs again and the picture frames bounce with it. Two more frames drop from the wall. We run down to the living room as quickly as we can.
Kris holds my arm and states very matter of fact, "You can't stay here tonight."
I protest, "I can't leave you here! You know what's in that hole in your room?"
She stops and looks towards the staircase.
"…Yes," she eventually replies. "It talked to me once. I didn't see it, but… I heard it from the darkness. It told me it would get what it wants, and if I refused it'd take my brother."
"But he's okay. You weren't here at all yesterday and it was fine! Sleep at my house again tonight! You've gotta!"
"… Okay."
With her anxious word, I swear I could feel the entire house rumble. Something crashed upstairs. Heavy footsteps charge up the stairs, and a few moments later we hear her dad "Jesus Christ!"
"Dad, what's wrong?" Kris asks, as he stomps back down.
"Nothing, honey, it's fine. You and Em stay down here, okay?" and off he went to the kitchen. "Never should've bought this stupid old house…"
A couple of phonecalls later he's arranged Kris to stay at my house again. He said it wouldn't be safe to sleep upstairs and we should wait for my parents to pick us both up.
After we arrive to my house, we don't play. We worry, and we wait.
It's lights out. Mum and dad have said goodnight. Kris climbs up onto my bed and we're sat next to each other staring out at my room. It's familiar, but I don't think either of us feel safe. We've locked the window. We've closed the curtain. We've put my small desk chair over the cupboard doors.
We're sat there for hours, almost dozing off. A thud. Something hits the floor. I look down to find my diary; I've been keeping it all year. It's opened near the start.
I turn on my bedside lamp and look at it. I've mentioned Kris on this page. Except, it doesn't just say Kris. It's been scrawled over the top of her name: Not yours.
We look at each other, unsettled. I turn the page. And I keep turning. The howling wind from Kris' room whines and whips up in my own. Over and over I turn the pages, and every time I'd written her name those same angry letters are written again. Not yours. Not yours. Not yours.
I turn to the next page. I've not gotten this far, but the pages aren't blank. Four giant words are across both pages.
NOT YOURS
FOUND YOU
A bang wobbles the wall where my window and wardrobe are. And again. Louder this time, the wall seems to push inward. We clung to each other at the top of the bed.
That howling wind surrounds the room. The cupboard creeps away from the wall. Long fingers burst out from the wall behind it, clutching and digging into anything they can find. I know what for. To pull that terrifying nightmare out from beyond and into my bedroom.
Words appear on the pages of the open diary, still in my hands. Loud scratching as if from an invisible pen.
COME TO GET WHAT'S MINE
TAKE YOU BOTH
Kris grabs me, "Emily! Take my hand!"
We lunge out of the bed, standing opposite the cupboard. The wind shrieking at us, still growing louder. The arms getting longer from behind the cupboard as its fingers crawl outward.
"Come on!" she screams at me, and we both charge at it, knocking the furniture backwards.
Its fingers curl up, and its fingernails grind into the wall as its pushed back to the gap. We're pressing against the front with all our might. It growls and scrambles back out as far as it can. The air is screaming around us like a nightmare. The wardrobe splinters and cracks. One of the hands has been clawing forward along the wood and is a hair's breadth from me. I was unaware it was even reaching for me until Kris yanked me away from it.
We back up and charge again. This time, that thing's syringe drops onto the floor. Barely a second passes and Kris is already bolting to the other side of the room.
She grabs my lamp and rips it away from the wall, smashing it against the syringe.
The wind stops. The wardrobe rattles to a standstill. Those long arms disappeared back behind the wall.
The little pile of brass metal and glass in a small mess on my floor.
We look at each other, before creeping around each side of the wardrobe. There's no gap; no hole in the wall. It's like the creature was never there.
All we can hear is paper scratches. My diary, again. The page is blank except for four words.
YOUR FAULT
YOU CHOSE
Everything was calm. Until blue flashing lights started outside my window, and we saw a police officer coming to the house…