I keep hearing it… those bells?
Oh, you probably have no clue what I’m talking about. Have you ever been past a church and you hear those annoying bells? The ones that ring at the new hour? Yeah, annoying.
I’ve always hated them as a child and when I was forced to move right next to one on account of my job, I was not a happy camper.
The church was located right across the street from me, it was painted fully white and had pink stained glass windows. It was also very very large, it looked about 4000 square feet from the outside. It looked like any basic church, beautiful, tall and mysterious. What really was odd was the lack of people who entered that church.
I would sit by my window from time to time just to see if anyone would enter.
Nothing.
No cars
No stander-bys for some post service discussions
Nothing.
It was clean and didn’t necessarily look abandoned, but no one would ever set foot in the church. In the famous words of Grandpa Joe from WIlly Wonka & the Chocolate Factory, “Nobody ever comes in, nobody ever comes out.”
It was kinda creepy, not gonna lie
It was around 5:58 pm when I entered into my house one early evening. I set my things down and walked into the kitchen when I heard it. 6 long chimes coming from the church across the street from me
Pause.
Then 6 more.
Another pause again.
Then 6 more..
Below is the video I recorded:
https://drive.google.com/file/d/15dQGFzf3dZfqWn-pVH_hQRx9TB1CiiQ8/view?usp=drivesdk.
I sighed and looked out the window for some sign of anyone or some car that was parked in the church’s parking lot. To my surprise, there was nobody there. It was strange how those bells were on some sort of delay as well, that was 18 chimes it just didn’t seem quite logical considering it was only 6pm..
I decided to shrug it off and go to bed. I had an early day tomorrow and needed to get some rest.
It was around 12am when something woke me up from my sleep. I looked around in a dazed confusion before I went and peeked out the window, looking at the church across the street. It was pitch black outside, but I could still see the silhouette of the church. I couldn’t see any movement nor see anyone. The lights were still off in the church.
I figured whatever woke me up wasn’t anything too serious so I decided to just shrug it off and go to bed. During the next few weeks however, I noticed a pattern. Everyday at 6 or 12, the bells would ring.. abnormally. Every other hour it seemed fine but anytime 6 or 12 hit it would always ring in a loud cacophony of musical talent.. if you could even call what I keep hearing, talent. No matter what day it was, it always rang. 6am or 6pm. 12am or 12pm. Night and day, day and night, this was the routine for the church.
It was only another week later when I was walking home from a night of clubbing. I was staggering up the path to my house: intoxicated, tired and just wanting nothing more than to crash into my bed. I pulled out my key and drunkenly attempted to open my door, when I heard those same ringing bells.
It was like damn clockwork..
I sighed and counted out the malformed tintinnabulations of the church, as per usual with my routine with the decrepit church.
6
Pause.
6.
Pause.
9.
Pause
I chuckled lowly and opened my door, only to suddenly hear something from behind me. It was coming directly from the church.. I don’t know how to describe it, but instead of it’s usual overlapping bell chimes… it was a melody. Oh, it sounded so beautiful.. it sounded like what I would imagine inner peace would be like.. a serene and comforting feeling that wraps around you like a motherly hug. I was completely enthralled by this and just sat on the porch, closing my eyes and letting the music overtake me..
I even recorded it just so I would have something to look back on: https://drive.google.com/file/d/15rkJj3_aoeCR2aZRXS7EvhIZTijgRBeE/view?usp=drivesdk
Looking back on it now, I wished I never would have stay on that porch.
Rather then a red flag implanted in my mind to remind me of how weird it was that a clearly empty and dark church was playing music at 12am, I felt the need to walk over to the church. It’s music was pulling me forward in a trance like state, or like a lamb to the slaughter
I had no idea what I was doing and I couldn’t stop myself, I didn’t even try. I walked right up the steps and was right outside the doors. They were unlocked as I expected, the knob was easy to turn and the church door opened wide. The music was loud, louder then I ever anticipated it could have been. It was heavenly and I felt a calm wash over me as the music wrapped around me like a warm blanket, I entered the church.
Everything was white.
The pews, the floor, the walls, the ceiling, everything. The glass stained windows had a pink hue to them that almost made the inside of the church look completely straight from heaven. I could still hear the bells ringing, the music was slow and peaceful.
I could feel it.
It was like it was coming from inside of me, wrapping around me in a loving embrace. I sat in one of the pews and let it fill me to the brim, as if I were being overfilled with something I could not explain. A lesson? A curse? I didn’t care..
It was so quiet in there, I couldn’t hear anything other then that beautiful, beautiful music. It was almost like it was playing directly inside my head, it was such a beautiful song.
After a few more minutes, the music started to change.. It began to become less and less melodic and more and more chaotic.
The music soon became erratic and loud, to the point where it was deafening.
I covered my ears, but it didn’t help.
I fell off the pew and onto the floor, groaning as the music began to become painful and distorted.
I looked around, slowly watching as the white interior of the church turned into a black hue. The black dripping down the walls and onto the floor and just about anything in it’s path. My eardrums felt like they were exploding from the music, and yet I still couldn’t move. My entire body was paralyzed as I felt the black goo cling onto my legs, inching and moving up to my chest. The only thing I could do was close my eyes, and pray for it to end.
The pain was indescribable as I felt it dig into my chest, sinking it’s black claws deeper and deeper into it and making its mark.
I tried to scream, but I couldn’t hear it.
I could feel myself shaking, but I couldn’t see it.
It was all loud, overwhelming and too much.
Then, as suddenly as everything had come, it stopped.
The music was gone.
So were the bells.
All that remained was the silence.
And the silence was deafening.
I slowly opened my eyes and looked around at the church. The walls were no longer godly white, nor were they pitch black. They just looked old, rundown and slightly mildew. I sat there for a moment, dumbfounded, before getting up and slowly walking back to my house. I was as sober as a priest after that experience…
I tried to go back to take pictures of the inside of the church but it was locked. In fact, it was boarded up as well..
I’ve tried to get to the bottom of this mystery.
I’ve tried to call the landlord,
I’ve tried to contact the church to ask them about the bells.
Nothing.
Nada.
Zip.
It’s like they have no clue what is going on, nor do they care. I’ve even talked to the few people who live nearby. They say the same thing, that the church has long been abandoned and it’s been locked since 1935 after something happened there.
There was never anybody ringing those bells at the top of the church.
The only thing I can think of is that the church is haunted. It’s the only explanation that makes sense. How else could you explain the fact that I seem to be the only one to hear the church bells? I seem to be the only one who witnessed the horrors that that church held.
I like to think that in a sense, it chose me.. it chose me to hear the bells, it chose me to share its secrets. And it chose me to inhabit when it plunged its spirit into my chest.
I’m its next victim.
It’s not that I’m scared about it.
It’s that I’m worried,
Worried about my sanity.
Have you ever been driving along and the next thing you know your car is being pulled by an unseen force. You try to put on the breaks but you can’t, as the force keeps pulling you forward?
Probably not, but that is how I feel every time I look at the church.
My car is being pulled forward, and there is nothing I can do.
I can’t stop. I can’t slow down. I keep telling people I trust dearly about the bells but everyone is slowly starting to think I’m crazy.
I’m starting to think so too..
But all I can do is pray. Pray for some sort of salvation. Pray for someone to help me. Pray for whatever dark spirit attached itself to me.
The church has become a part of my life, and I’m not sure I’m able to live with this.
I have decided to take this last resort. I will end it myself. I can’t think of any other solution.
It will be tomorrow, as the bells once again toll.
I will be taking my car and driving it straight into the church’s walls, destroying it so that I may have peace.