It all began on what seemed like an ordinary evening. Anika was sitting in the living room with a cup of tea in her hand. The silence of the house was broken only by the slow ticking of the clock. Suddenly, her eyes caught sight of something on the wall, in the corner of the room. A tiny gray dot was moving. At first, she thought it might be a small moth or a piece of dust, but when she moved closer, she noticed that the thing carried a small protective case, like a pouch, attached to it.
“What is this?” she wondered, and remembered the words of her close friend Julien. He had once told her about an unusual insect called Phereoeca uterella, known in France as the “mite des murs” and in Indonesia as the “kamitetep.” Anika crouched down and looked more carefully. Yes, she wasn’t mistaken. It was indeed that insect—the “bagworm,” a tiny creature that carried its little case everywhere it went.
In the following days, Anika began to notice that the little insects were not alone. On the walls of her house, near the bookshelves, even in the corner of the kitchen, small tubular cases kept appearing. No matter how much she tried to clean them away, new ones would show up again. Julien came to visit her. When he heard the story, he laughed and said, “Don’t worry, Anika.
They’re harmless. They just love dust, old papers, spiderwebs. All you need to do is clean more often.” But Anika was not satisfied with that explanation. She felt there was something unusual about all this.
The house where Anika lived had once belonged to her grandmother. It was an old stone house, built in the 19th century. Her grandmother often used to say, “These walls keep secrets.” Anika had always taken those words as a joke, but now, seeing the strange insects multiplying in the cracks of the walls, she began to doubt.
One evening she picked up a flashlight and went down to the cellar. The air there was damp, and dozens of little cases clung to the walls. But more striking was the fact that one section of the wall seemed weak, almost loose.
Driven by curiosity, Anika touched the wall. To her surprise, some of the stones shifted. She managed to open a small gap. She called Julien, and together they started moving the stones aside. And there, before their eyes, appeared a narrow door hidden inside the house.
The door led into a dark corridor. Her heart was pounding fast, but curiosity outweighed fear. They took the flashlight and stepped inside. The corridor walls were covered with dust and those same insects. Their little cases hung everywhere by the dozens. Anika had the strange impression that they were showing her a path.
The corridor led to a small room. Inside stood an old wooden chest, sealed with a rusted lock. Julien struggled but finally managed to open it. Inside the chest were old papers, letters, and photographs. The letters were written in her grandmother’s handwriting. They told stories about the years of the Second World War and, more importantly, about a secret love affair.
What shocked Anika even more was that in these letters her grandmother mentioned the same insect. She had written: “These little creatures are guardians. They always appear where secrets are hidden. If you see them, know that something lies concealed.”
Anika stared at Julien in disbelief. Could it be that the insects had actually led her to this hidden room? Beneath the letters there was a small metal box. Inside it lay a golden ring and a photograph of a young woman with an unknown man. On the back of the photo were the words: “Our secret will be kept by the guardians within the walls.” Anika had no idea who the man was, but she realized her grandmother’s past contained a story that no one had ever known.
As they were about to leave the room, the flashlight flickered and the shadows began to move. Suddenly, dozens of insects crawled out of the walls. But these were no longer the ordinary Phereoeca uterella. Their cases were larger, and from within came a faint metallic rattling.
To her horror, Anika noticed that some of them emerging from their cases had small wings shimmering with an unnatural light. Julien tried to laugh it off, saying it must be just a trick of the flashlight.
But at that moment, the insects began to gather around the photograph, as if guarding it.
Then a muffled voice, like a whisper, rose from the walls: “Do not reveal.” Anika screamed, but her voice was swallowed by silence. The photograph slipped from her hand and fell to the floor. The insects swarmed by the hundreds, covering the chest and sealing it again. When the light flickered once more, the room was empty. No letters, no ring, no photograph. Only new cases clung to the walls.
Anika and Julien fled in terror. But when they reached the living room, Anika noticed that on the wall there was already another fresh case. A single insect was crawling slowly, almost mockingly. That day she finally understood that her grandmother’s words had been true. These insects were not just harmless invaders of a home.
They were guardians. Guardians of something greater, something hidden. But what exactly were they guarding? And why had she been the one to discover the room? The questions remained unanswered. Only one thing was certain: the walls of this house held much more than dust and dampness.
About the Author
