Forgotten Home
キミの記憶
Near soundless footsteps echo through the rickety house, daring to collapse it as each one passes. The house, distraught with the fear of falling, groans in response, and keeps itself up. The groan is quiet so that only the sole resident can hear it - it doesn't want more people to come and hurt it even more. There used to be two people living in this quiet home, but they both left one day and now just this old man with no love for it stayed, bruising and abusing it.
The old man walks through the home quietly, not taking any care in the cracks or creaks the house has. He does not care about the house anymore. The one he had cared for is gone, now trapped in a sea of dirt out in his backyard, drowning in worms and maggots, never able to escape the horrible fate that he now wishes for himself.
Feeling tired, the old man walks over the squeaking planks and into his bedroom, where he finally relaxes in his cozy bed. The house let out a groan, finally glad he is not walking around anymore today. The house wants him out. It wants revenge for how poorly it's been treated by the man. And revenge it will get, for there was one who resided in the house also, but it was no normal resident.
A groan sounds through the house but this time it is not the house - the house is dead silent as it silently anticipated the happenings. The old man knew the sounds of this house intimately and the eerie groan makes his skin crawl. It was not just that this sound is unfamiliar, it is also because the groan had come from right under where he rested his weary bones.
He sat up, the covers rustle under him. His frail body shakes in fear as the groan becomes louder. Despite the fear, he dares to look over the side of the bed. At first, there is nothing, then there is something - a grimy, rotting hand reaches out from underneath. Another hand reaches out from the bed, but it looks like the same hand. Then another hand that looked the same. And more. And more. Groans filled the room, as does the smell of a rotting corpse and death. The old man quickly shot out of bed and flees the bedroom, knowing full well this is not a hallucination.
A loud crash sounds from the bedroom and many growls sound behind him. He keeps running and running, his dry bones wanting to crack underneath him. He crashed out of the backdoor and fell off the stairs of the back porch. Pain shot through his back as he lands, forcing itself out of his body in a loud cry of anguish. Just behind his head, inches away from hitting it, is the gravestone of his dear beloved. It was her, he thought to himself. She's come to take me with her!
Groaning came from the porch where he just was and he looks up, unable to move. The rotting, grotesque creature sat watching him. It has so many arms, like a centipede made of human remains. Faces seemed to move along its skin and blood dripped from its mouth. It grinned at him with horrible, bone-crushing, gnashing teeth made from human bones and jumped at him. It gnaws against his old bones and he could hardly let out a scream as he was ripped to shreds on that grave.
The house groaned loudly as if laughing.
The old man walks through the home quietly, not taking any care in the cracks or creaks the house has. He does not care about the house anymore. The one he had cared for is gone, now trapped in a sea of dirt out in his backyard, drowning in worms and maggots, never able to escape the horrible fate that he now wishes for himself.
Feeling tired, the old man walks over the squeaking planks and into his bedroom, where he finally relaxes in his cozy bed. The house let out a groan, finally glad he is not walking around anymore today. The house wants him out. It wants revenge for how poorly it's been treated by the man. And revenge it will get, for there was one who resided in the house also, but it was no normal resident.
A groan sounds through the house but this time it is not the house - the house is dead silent as it silently anticipated the happenings. The old man knew the sounds of this house intimately and the eerie groan makes his skin crawl. It was not just that this sound is unfamiliar, it is also because the groan had come from right under where he rested his weary bones.
He sat up, the covers rustle under him. His frail body shakes in fear as the groan becomes louder. Despite the fear, he dares to look over the side of the bed. At first, there is nothing, then there is something - a grimy, rotting hand reaches out from underneath. Another hand reaches out from the bed, but it looks like the same hand. Then another hand that looked the same. And more. And more. Groans filled the room, as does the smell of a rotting corpse and death. The old man quickly shot out of bed and flees the bedroom, knowing full well this is not a hallucination.
A loud crash sounds from the bedroom and many growls sound behind him. He keeps running and running, his dry bones wanting to crack underneath him. He crashed out of the backdoor and fell off the stairs of the back porch. Pain shot through his back as he lands, forcing itself out of his body in a loud cry of anguish. Just behind his head, inches away from hitting it, is the gravestone of his dear beloved. It was her, he thought to himself. She's come to take me with her!
Groaning came from the porch where he just was and he looks up, unable to move. The rotting, grotesque creature sat watching him. It has so many arms, like a centipede made of human remains. Faces seemed to move along its skin and blood dripped from its mouth. It grinned at him with horrible, bone-crushing, gnashing teeth made from human bones and jumped at him. It gnaws against his old bones and he could hardly let out a scream as he was ripped to shreds on that grave.
The house groaned loudly as if laughing.
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