Vent

This story takes place on July 2nd, 1998. A little boy by the name of Eric Gimble was being babysat while his parents went out for their anniversary. The babysitter, Sarah, was informed earlier that evening by his parents that he claimed to have been hearing things and wasn't getting much sleep because of it. He said that there is someone living inside the air vent in his room and that they talk to him. Obviously, Sarah thought, that's not possible. The air vents in this house are far too small for someone to be living inside of, also, how could they? Air vents are not habitable. However, they told her he's been staying up late on his Ipad and they've had to take it away to try and make sure he gets some sleep.

After Mr. and Mrs. Gimble left, Sarah and Eric had a night full of pizza and Shrek. Then, Sarah told Eric it was time for bed. After she walked him to his room and tucked him into bed she saw the Ipad sitting on his nightstand and unplugged it.

"Do you mind if I borrow this for the night?"

Eric shot up.

"I'd rather you didn't." He says. "I don't want it to get lost or broken."

"Oh, it's okay. I'll take good care of it."

Sarah stands up to leave the room and then Eric yells for her to stop.

"Please, don't take it." He says. "It helps distract me from the voice."

This is what Sarah secretly wanted. For him to mention the voice.

"What voice?"

"Look, I know you won't believe me. Mom and dad don't. But there's a voice that speaks to me from there." He points at the air conditioning vent to the left of his bed. "It keeps me up, but the Ipad helps distract me from the things it says. It says awful things."

"Awful things like what?"

"I'd rather not repeat it."

Sarah looks up at the air conditioning vent.

"Is it speaking right now?"

"No. It only talks when the air is blowing."

"Hmm. And what do you think is up there? A person can't fit in there, Eric."

"I know that."

"Then, what? A ghost?"

"A monster." He says.

Sarah felt bad for him. This little boy really thought there was a monster inside of the vent in his room and she wanted to help him overcome it.

"What does the voice say to you?"

"It mostly just begs me to take off

/

Eric opens the window when they come in the room to make it cold so that the cold air won't blow, also, canonically, in the winter, idk if this will fullly work, but we dfont want the heat on either. same thinking.

/

The hallway has two of them. Slotted demons. I know that the voice is coming from behind those metal slats, but I don’t know what it looks like, so I associate the monster with the slats themselves. I pass one and feel a chill run down my spine. It’s breath.

I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn to see Sarah, my babysitter.

"Eric? What's going on?”

“There's a voice. It's coming from up there.”

I point up to the air conditioning vent.

“You think you hear a voice in the vent?”

“Yes. It wants me to ‘come to it’ it says.” I keep my eyes fixed on the slotted demon behind her.

She clearly notices where my attention lies because she turns around to see what I'm staring at.

“Mm-hm and it wants you to come to it?”

“Yes. I'm scared."

“And what do you think is behind there? A monster? A ghost?”

She makes a noise that makes it clear to me that she's not taking me seriously. The sound of a stereotypical ghost.

“I don’t know. I just feel like it watches everything I do, say and think. Like I'm its version of reality TV. It makes me uncomfortable."

“Hmm. Well, let's test your theory.” This takes me by surprise.

She gets off the edge of my bed and walks out of the room. There's some loud shuffling coming from another room downstairs and then she comes back with a screwdriver in hand. Then, she goes over to my desk and slides the office chair over until it’s level, underneath the vent.

“There's nothing to be afraid of, Eric.” I stay where I am. Very unsure about that.

Then the voice.

Yeah, Eric. There’s nothing to be afraid of.

I look at the slats above her. They all look curved, like it’s smiling, 18 little evil smiles at me.

She gets up on the chair and begins to unscrew its evil grin from the wall.

“DON’T DO IT”

“Eric, it will all be okay. I promise. You’ll see in a minute.”

She turns back to the wall and I watch one of the screws come off into her hand. And then another. Then, she removes its smile to reveal a vast empty hole. She peaks around inside.

“Is the monster still speaking to you Eric?”

I listen but I don’t hear the voice, just the sound of my own heart thumping inside of my ears.

“Nuh-nuh… no.”

“That’s good! What if you came over here and took a look inside.”

“Uh… no thanks.”

She gets down and walks over to me.

“Eric? I want you to see that there is nothing to be afraid of. Please come with me.”

I stand up, hesitantly, but bravely and I follow her over to the chair, keeping my eyes fixated on the dark hole in the wall in case it tries anything. I step up onto the stained wood and lift up to where my head is just underneath the hole.

No taunting voice. No air coming out.

I lift my head slowly, my heart now trying to escape through my left temple, giving me a headache, and then I’m face to face with it. Nothing. Nothing at all to see. Nothing at all to ‘come to’ except a metal tunnel. It doesn’t breathe. It doesn’t speak. It is nothing.

I get down from the chair and feel a sense of relief wash over me. I listen for the voice, nothing.

“How are you feeling, Eric?”

I smile. “A lot better actually.”

“That’s great! Go ahead and lie back down and I'll put this back on and then we can talk more about it.”

I walk back over to the bed and plop down, the weight I've been carrying disintegrating into the soft beige comforter. She climbs back up on the chair, fiddling with the screws and then I hear a thump. The air suddenly becomes very, very cold.

That’s great, Eric. The voice returns, mocking me. You’re cured.

I can’t tell what it is from here, just that it’s very dark and it pulls her by her hair. She screams for me to help, but I'm frozen watching her lift into the air along the wall.

“HELP, PLEASE”

I watch as her body folds in ways that I couldn’t have imagined possible before. First, her left leg goes in, and I hear an audible crack, her leg breaking in two. Then, her body folds into a child's pose yoga position, creating another crackling sound as it takes her spine out too. She’s no longer screaming, just wide eyed, and then her body is fully sucked into the abyss.

There’s no blood. No evidence left behind. She’s just gone.

I look around the room, trying to process what just happened.

Her phone rings on the floor below the vent. It must have fallen out of her pocket when she was grabbed. I walk over to it, slowly.

I pick it up and walk it over to her desk, I sit it next to a picture of her with her husband and daughter. Then, I search the floor for the screws and the screwdriver, grab the vent lid, and replace it.

I push her chair back over to the desk, gain my composure, and then walk out into the hall.

As I pass by the vents, they’re quiet.

The receptionist doesn’t look up from his phone as I pass through the lobby.

I’m sure they’ll know I was the last one to see her and they’ll likely question me after she’s reported missing, but I'll just tell the truth. The vent ate her.

They might search the vent, thinking that I did something to her and put her up there, but there won’t be anything left of her for them to find and they’ll just think I'm crazy.

I don’t know if it’s the shock or what, but I can’t help but laugh the second I shut my car door, the first genuine laugh I've had in months. I really liked my psychiatrist, but there’s relief in my body that it wasn’t me that it took, that it doesn’t have to be me.

I wonder if the vents in my car can hear me laughing. I wonder if they’re laughing, too.

I know it’ll start talking to me when it’s hungry again, but I'm not worried.

Next time I'll know how to feed it.

I watched her limbs twist and contort.

Legend has it that Sarah Southerly is still considered missing and a cold case.