Our house used to be joined to another until the owner went off the rails, stole a bulldozer and wrecked the place beyond salvaging. They'd been going on about the little handprints all along their walls and the crying behind the wallpaper for years but we thought they were just hearing out TV through the thin brick walls and mistaking his own wallpaper pattern for something else entirely, what with his failing vision and all.
After he'd had a go at his home with the bulldozer and all was settled he was taken to a retirement home far away from the "cursed" house he'd been "forced to stay in by malicious, lingering souls" and the house itself was safely brought down which left us as a single home, no longer semi-detached. With the promises of a thicker wall being built to accommodate these new changes until the other half could be rebuilt and sold onwards we thought nothing more of it.
Then a storm came, blowing the heavy tarpaulin off the demolished side and revealing countless black outlines that looked like they'd been spray-painted on. There must have been almost a hundred of them and all were so tiny and so distorted. They'd been hidden behind the brick for god knows how long, too long for our neighbour to have done it himself.
It was only made worse when the mass grave was found while the new foundations were being dug.
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