Late one evening, Lily moved into an old, creaky apartment she found for a steal. The rent was cheap, the location was perfect, but the building had a dark history. The previous tenants had vanished without a trace, leaving behind only whispers and cold shivers.

On her first night, Lily noticed something odd. The walls seemed to murmur. At first, she dismissed it as the groans of the old building, but as the night deepened, the whispers grew louder, almost urgent. They seemed to be calling her name.

Terrified, she pressed her ear against the cold, damp wall. Through the layers of plaster and brick, she could make out voices, desperate and pleading. "Help us? Trapped? Never leave?"

She recoiled, heart pounding, and tried to sleep, but the whispers kept her awake. They grew louder, more insistent with each passing hour, until they were all she could hear.

The next day, Lily spoke to her neighbors, but they denied hearing anything strange. Determined to uncover the source, she searched the apartment, tapping on walls, pulling back wallpaper, until she found a section that sounded hollow. With trembling hands, she pried it open.

Behind the wall, she discovered a small, dark space filled with decaying bones and matted hair. The sight was horrific, but what terrified her most was the realization that the bones belonged to children - previous tenants, forgotten and trapped.

As she stared in horror, the whispers became screams, echoing from every corner of the apartment. The walls seemed to close in, suffocating her with their cries. She tried to run, but the door wouldn't budge. The walls pressed closer, cold and unforgiving.

In her last moments, she understood the truth. The apartment wasn't haunted by spirits; it was the building itself that was alive, feeding on those who dared to live within its walls. And now, it had claimed her too.

Days later, the apartment was quiet again, ready for its next tenant. The walls remained silent, for now, but the whispers would return, hungry for new blood.