The house looms in the mist.
Birds circle round its turrets.
Light flickers from the top window.
It flashes on and off.
Then all goes dark.
A screech tears through the air.
Lifting the hair on my arms.
It echoes inside my head.
A frightening sound
I don’t ever want to hear again.
Should we ignore the signal?
The flashing light could be for us.
We were invited to this hell hole.
Who waits for us inside?
Time to find out
before I chicken out.
We go in and out quickly.
The door is opening on its own.
The Dead and their lousy games.
THE DEAD GAME
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