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THE STORY OF SEVEN DAYS WITH BIRDY — SDWB 1
An experiment meant to help the world collapsed into something unnatural.
Two scientists worked together, trying to create mechanical birds. The project was simple at first, until one of them pushed the technology into dangerous territory. Whatever he did corrupted four of the creations, twisting them into something that behaved more like spirits than machines.
Once the damage was done, the corrupted birds had to be contained.
They were hidden away inside an extremely old house — a structure abandoned for over 150 years. Its walls were falling apart, its windows fogged with age, its rooms frozen in time. But it was far enough from civilization to serve as a cage.
Inside that house, one of the corrupted birds — the one sealed in a reinforced music box — needed constant pressure to stay dormant. If the music stopped, the entity inside would break free. The other three, positioned near the windows, reacted to darkness and had to be handled by controlling the lights.
To prevent the house from collapsing into chaos, someone had to stay inside for a short period, maintain the systems, and keep the corruption from spreading. So an outsider named Dave was brought in. He wasn’t told much. Just instructions:
• Watch the windows
• Control the lights
• Keep the music box wound
• Survive seven days
Dave received guidance through nightly phone calls from a voice identifying itself as “David.” Over time, it became obvious the caller was not a person but a damaged machine created long ago. Its memory and speech drifted, but its warnings were real.
As Dave continued his shifts, the house began to feel alive.
Sounds echoed where nothing moved. Shapes appeared behind the windows. The music box shook harder every night. The atmosphere grew heavier, as though the building itself remembered what was locked inside it.
Each passing night made the corruption stronger.
The house pushed back.
The windows fogged with movement.
The music box thumped like something inside was testing the walls.
The patterns of the lights began to fail.
By the seventh night, Dave understood that he wasn’t just maintaining an old, haunted building.
He was holding back something waiting to escape.
Seven days was not a work contract.
It was the limit of how long the containment would hold before the house — and everything inside it — tried to break free.
