it began with a creak,
low and hollow,
as if the staircase exhaled a secret
meant only for me.
at first, i told myself it was nothing—
just the old bones of the house shifting,
just the wind brushing the eaves.
but then came the whisper:
soft, deliberate,
threading through the night like cold fingers.
“come closer,” it said.
i stayed still.
the air thickened.
my heart tapped...
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