Do you hear the owl hooting,

Can you hear the wolves howling?

The song of the ghosts ringing silently,

The music of the phantoms whispering in pain and anger,

The melody of the shadows slithering determinedly,

Crawling an gliding smoothly in the darkness.

Brushing, barely touching the surface.

You hear a little girl crying and you enter the house.

You call out and creep toward the sound.

All is quiet.

Deathly so.

You are pale and shaking,

Sickly, scared.

Terrified of the seemingly empty house.

Is it haunted?

No, you think vehemently.

Yes, breathe the wispy specters.

You follow a path, a trail of fallen rose petals.

Down a lonely corridor, the child’s sobs echoing eerily in the gloom.

You call out again, but there’s no answer.

There— Can you see it?

A light at the end of the dimness.

You slink forward warily, cloaked by the unknown.

You call out once more.

There’s still no answer.

You catch the sound of footsteps behind you.

You turn to look,

But you’re alone.

A floorboard creaks overhead.

You stiffen, paralyzed, listening, tense,

Waiting…

Silence.

Just your imagination, you tell yourself.

Wrong, breathe the wispy specters.

You take another step forward cautiously.

You’re almost to the door now, cracked open and spilling light.

A soft evil laugh scrapes your ears.

The crying stops.

A silhouette passes in front of the leaking light.

The light flickers and fights to hold steady.

Another floorboard creaks overhead.

A rapping, scratching noise from the wall to your left.

A hissing from behind.

There’s a knock from somewhere in the house.

Then all resembles a tomb again.

Something caresses your neck.

You jump and whirl around, your skin tingling.

The dying light fades to black.

Someone grabs you and drags you into the room.

You fall and they catch you, placing you gently on a couch.

“Are you scared?” he asks.

You shake your head no, but you both know you’re lying.

“Don’t be afraid,” he tells you. “Relax. You’re safe now.”

The man picks you up and carries you out of the house,

The child wailing again and the wispy specters trying to prevent your escape.

But you get out, break free,

You’re no longer trapped in that house of horrors,

With blood dripping down the walls and coating the floors.

“Are you still scared?” Your savior whispers in your ear.

“Only in ghost hall,” you say.

Your savior laughs and finally, you see his face.

You scream. He is pale and wraithlike.

He smiles, showing see-through teeth. “I can teach you to fear everything,” he says. “To fear life.”

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