• A cool breeze from the depths of the black night creped in through the broken glass windows carrying the faint odor of long passed death along its path. Overturned chairs gathered dust. Whispers of the past became silent as they reached the dark and ancient stains. All was dull and forgotten. Never to be seen. Never to be known.
    The house began to creek and groan as the cold of the night started setting in. The cool breeze became a cold gust before it died into complete stillness.
    Then there came the knocking.
    Knocking.
    Knocking.
    Knocking.
    No one to answer, no one to hear the insistent knocking.
    And the knocking will die.
    And then it will return.
    Forever knocking.
    Forever waiting.
    No one to answer, no one to hear.