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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Rongtern Mansion By M. Taha Effendi (Verse Libre) The front door of the mansion mysteriously creaks open, I freeze. Hoping to hear a welcoming voice, But all I hear is the wailing of the cold wind, The pitter-patter of rain outside, And the roar of lightning, The room reeks of damp, decayed wood and dusty furniture, I enter. The hall is dark, I can only make out countless ornate mirrors glittering on the walls all around, And a tiny candle that flickers on a table at the far end of the hall, An old telephone sits beside it, Squinting around nervously for any sign of life, Groping through the darkness, I reach the table, An ornate frame is perched on the wall there, An old man, balding, with a heavily creased face, firm jaws, and blood shot eyes, bearing a somewhat sinister smile, Looks back at me from it, A strange macabre feeling suddenly engulfs me, I pick up the cold receiver with a trembling hand, holding it to my ear, about to dial, When suddenly with a flash of lightning, I catch the smile of the old man in the portrait falter, And hear the sobs of a little girl on the phone, "H-h-h-hide me f-from d-d-daddy... H-hide m-me f-from d-daddy," Terrified, a cold shudder trickles down my spine, fogging my mind and senses, The phone slips from my grasp and hits the floor with a thud, And instantly the echoes of the girl's sobs get louder, They seem to be coming from behind a closed oak door a few steps away, As I reluctantly make my way towards it, The constant howl of the wind seems like an evil cackle, I can't help but feel that someone is breathing down my neck. I swallow a nervous whimper, Finally I am at the door, I turn the knob, It is locked. Just then I hear a floor board creak inside the room, Confused, I crouch and peep through the keyhole, I see nothing but darkness, But I wait, Perhaps my eye will adjust to the dark, It does, And what it beholds makes the very blood in my veins curdle, From the other side of the keyhole was peeping, A bloodshot eye... Winner of contest: "A Creepy, Scary Haunted House Poem, Please" by Constance - My Dear Heart
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