THE HOUSE

THE HOUSE.

People tell tales about haunted places, and such places are always dark and sinister, like an warning to any eventual trespasser that something evil lurk in It’s dark corridors.

But maybe its just how things reflect the feelings of what wanders in shadows, sadness, regret, anger, all of them together, covering the haunted place like mold.

That house, today abandoned, is one of those places.

Dark, humid, cold, even in summer… And no one live there.

Some people tried, but they were too afraid to stay, “something” they would say “is not right in that house”.

The young, the brave and bold youth, always challenge the house. It’s like a initiation, after all everyone who enter that house left it a little bit different.

Tonight they gather inside it, inside the house, they talk laud, laugh and giggle, they mock it, they challenge the house, and when only silence responds, they think they are victorious in a battle against something they never saw, and even doubt that exists.

Soon they are too drunk, and they feel sleepy…it’s so late…

They get into the haze that lay between dream and reality, and finally the time arrive.

Now shadows crawl off the walls, through the floor, and over the silly children, hands cold and invisible, pulling one after the other to a different place of the house. They scream, they try to scape, but now all doors to the outside are locked, all windows shut.

One after the other, they cry like children as those invisible hands molest, punch, twist.

They are now separated, split inside that house, alone in the shadows, victims of sick demons who pray on them, violating bodies and minds.

But here, no one die, no, they goal is that they live with that.

In the next morning they get up, they cry, they are scared, they are confused and never will be the same again, now they are tainted, damaged, broken.

And the house, it will wait for the next, after all, always will be a next one.