Don’t Scream… It Already Knows

Don’t Scream… It Already Knows

The house had stood for many years,
Abandoned on the hill alone.
Its windows stared like hollow eyes,
Its walls were built of splintered stone.

They said no soul should cross the gate,
When daylight finally disappeared.
For something woke inside those rooms,
That fed upon the ones who feared.

I laughed at every warning given,
For ghostly tales were just pretend.
I carried only one small torch,
Certain logic always wins.

The hallway stretched impossibly,
Far longer than it should have done.
Each doorway opened to another,
As though the house weighed more than one.

My footsteps echoed back at me,
But not quite matching where I’d been.
A second pair walked half a step…
Behind me, though I’d seen no thing.

The torchlight flickered once… then twice.
The walls began to softly breathe.
My shadow slowly left my feet,
And disappeared beneath the stairs.

A whisper drifted through the dark,
Too quiet for the ears to hear.
Yet somehow every word was clear…

“You’ve taken far too long, my dear.”

The front door could no longer open,
The windows vanished one by one.
The silence wrapped around my throat,
Until I couldn’t even run.

Then laughter filled the empty rooms,
Not cruel… just patient… old… and slow.
The kind that waits a thousand years,
For someone curious to show.

At sunrise they found only footprints,
Leading through the dusty hall.
Mine went in…

But none came out.

Now people hear a voice at night,
Calling softly through the rain.
If someone whispers your own name…

Don’t answer.

It already knows you came.

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