Swamp Season Séance, Ep. 9: “The Last Whisper”

Swamp Season Séance, Ep. 9: “The Last Whisper” as told by Dale T. Doll I’ve been asking myself a question for a while now: What kind of foo...

as told by Dale T. Doll

I’ve been asking myself a question for a while now: What kind of fool opens a door they know better than to touch?

I know the answer now. It’s me. I’m the fool.

You’d think that after all the warnings—Lucinda’s whispers, the creaking walls, the scratching from the dark—I’d stop. I’d turn around, pack my things, and just leave. But no. Because there’s something about the house, something in the walls, in the air, in the bones of this place that makes you think you can fix it. That you can undo what’s been done.

But you can’t.

And when the hunger below comes for you—you know it’s too late.

The night after I sealed the cellar door shut, I tried to sleep. I swear I did. But the house wouldn’t let me. There were things moving—things crawling through the walls. But it wasn’t the wind anymore, it wasn’t just Lucinda. This was something new.

It was hunger. Pure, gnawing hunger.

I got up around 3 AM, because that’s when it starts. That’s when the walls groan the loudest, when the floorboards begin to move. At first, I thought it was just my imagination. You know the feeling—like you’ve had too much coffee, like the whole house is shifting beneath you. But this time, it was different.

I could hear it now. In the walls. Beneath the floor. That scratching. But it wasn’t just the sound of rats or some old pipes. It was like claws scraping against bone.

And then, just like that, everything went still. Dead quiet.

For a moment, I thought it had all stopped. But no.

That’s when I heard it. Lucinda’s voice, but it wasn’t like before. She didn’t speak through the TV, through static, or even in my head. No, this time, she whispered—not from the walls, not from the cellar—but from behind me.

“It’s too late now, Master D.

The house is hungry, and you’ve fed it.

You should have listened.

You should have left it alone.”

I turned around, but there was no one there. Just the flickering light and the oppressive weight of the house pushing in around me.

But the walls—they were breathing again. Pulsing. The faint outline of something shifting behind them, something trying to get through.

And that’s when I felt it. It wasn’t just the house now, it was the air. Thick. Heavier. The smell of dampness, rot, mildew, and something more—something worse. It was like the house was alive.

The scratching began again, louder, more urgent.

I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do anymore. The door to the cellar was sealed, but I knew that wouldn’t keep it in. No, whatever it was—whatever’s been waiting beneath—wasn’t bound by doors, or walls, or locks.

It wanted out.

It wanted me.

And then, just as I was about to step forward, I heard something—a soft rustle. Almost like the sound of paper crumpling. I looked down, and there, at my feet, was the locket. The one Lucinda had been obsessed with. The one she claimed was hers—or maybe mine.

It was open now. The chain was broken, and the tiny picture inside—the faded image of a woman with dark eyes—was now stained with something that wasn’t water.

It was blood. Her blood.

Lucinda’s blood.

And then, from the darkness beyond the walls, I heard it again—Lucinda’s voice. But this time, it wasn’t a warning. It was a command:

“It’s your choice now, Master D.

The door is open. You let it out.

There’s no going back.

Come to me, or the house will devour everything else.”

And that’s when I knew. It was never about Lucinda. It was never about some tragic ghost haunting an old house. No, the house—it wasn’t just cursed by her. She wasn’t the one in charge.

It had always been about the thing below.

And whatever that thing was, it was hungry. And now… so was I.

The walls are closing in. I can feel it. Every day, it’s a little worse. The shadows are darker, the hunger more urgent. I don’t know how much longer I can stay here.

But one thing’s for sure.

I can’t run anymore.

And I’m pretty sure I can’t stop it.

Coming Soon in Episode 10: “The End of the Line”

Dale faces the thing beneath the house, but the true cost of opening the door is far worse than he could’ve imagined.