Haunted house:- short story/ poetry

Haunted house:

The garden,  as barren as the houses lifeblood, cold and untouched. A cobblestone path, a tree marked with thousand crows perce the night’s veil.

The mansion was tall and expansive as well as brooding with planks of rotted wood astrew, the cliff at the edge of the street has a drop long and sharp . The tall dark building is just out of the touch of sunlights holy rays. At night the halls were dark as it seems as, the creaking floorboards mark an entrance.

The interior is of period dating, with dust and mold avast on the ceiling , cobwebs  latching onto the dauntingly high staircase, inhuman noises follow. Cold patches  make an appearance in a  dark brooding room.  Terror and fear  arise as the door once on it’s hinges falls to the floorboards.
Only the crows can hear the screams as the night silences all.

– Danielle Parrish


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