Day 3 – Night Noises
Alone in The George, Keith hears strange noises in the night. Fear grips him as silence breaks, leaving him unsure if it’s wind, survivors, or the dead.
THE WIGNALL DIARIES
Keith Wignall
1 min read
Didn’t write much yesterday. Couldn’t. Too bloody tired.
Last night the noises came again. Not just the creaks and groans of this wreck of a pub, but heavier. Footsteps? Furniture dragging? I sat in the office, pen in hand, heart hammering like a drum. Light out. Door locked. And still, the sounds came closer.
Could’ve been nothing. Could’ve been the building settling, or the wind. But it didn’t feel like that. I swear I heard something shuffle past the office door.
I thought about Janice. About how she used to laugh at me when I jumped at horror films. “You’ll never cope in a real apocalypse, Keith,” she’d say. Well, here I am, love. You were right. I’m bloody hopeless.
At some point, the noises stopped. No banging, no dragging, no footsteps. Just silence again. And that was worse.
I didn’t sleep. Sat with the pen all night, listening. Wondering if I’d have the guts to open the door if it came to it. Probably not.
Morning’s here now. Sunlight leaking through the cracks. Feels like a trick. Quiet again, but it’s the kind of quiet that makes your stomach twist.
Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe I’m losing it. But I’ll keep writing. This book might outlast me, and someone should know what happened here.
Keith