The below article identifies as Horror. Reader Discretion is advised.
Tick Tock. Tick Tock.
As the clock struck three, darkness shadowed the light of the moon. Silence crawled through the halls within, and the only sound I would hear was that of their fear. They came here with expectations of embarking upon an adventure. They always do. How foolish of them. They never learn, do they? They never realise that their mindless obsessions for venturing into the unknown lead them to their own demise. In this case, perhaps, an obsession to solve the unresolved mystery that is, The Hill House.
I lay low, amidst the hills shrouded in the dark, quiet and seemingly alone. At least that’s what they think. They assume that a place as old as this has nothing but huge doors, empty corridors, broken windows panes, high ceilings or perhaps even an unconventional architecture. But what they don’t hear, is the thud of those doors closing shut, trapping them in. The empty corridors filled with footsteps of those trying to escape. The broken window glass impaling through the eyes of someone who saw what they weren’t supposed to. Their lifeless bodies hanging from the high ceilings like wind chimes in a storm. The unusual stature of the house, holding them captive, dooming them to roam these halls for eternity.
You see, I don’t like silence. I prefer hearing the cries of the lost souls, writhing in agony. I may seem calm and dull on the outside, built with strong bricks and firm floors. I am all of it, and so much more. The splatters of blood on my bricks make it colourful, their screams make it musical. Because of them, I am whole.
Despite the fear of the unknown, curiosity is what drives them, drives them right towards me. Not knowing that they’re destined to stay. I get into their weak minds, play a little with their fears and make their worst nightmares come true. I lead them to madness and they do the rest on their own. It was all in their minds. But I control their minds, leave their bodies to rot and trap their souls. So they never leave………..
Who are they? They are the weak ones and sad ones. They can be controlled, manipulated, even commanded. They seem so broken that anything enchanting draws them in. That’s all I have to do, lure them in. As my doors open up for them, deceiving a warm welcome, they lose themselves in my halls, in an effort to find what’s hidden beneath. My bricks and walls tell them stories of the unknown. My walls trap their souls and all that comes with it. They become one with my darkness, completely hidden away from life as I wait for the next one. They’ll come in search of an adventure and once again, curiosity will lead them to me. It always does.
Because journeys end in lovers’ meeting.
One just needs to wait for the clock to strike three again.
Tick Tock. Tick Tock.
Inspired by the book, ‘The Haunting of Hill House’ written by Shirley Jackson.
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