I lie in fear,
There’s no one here.

The house is dark inside, no light
of moon or lamp from street, the night
is still, but I'm on guard, cut off.
With no one home, I hear a cough.

A hidden memory is rattling in my brain,
or someone dank and foul, who’s twisting knives for pain?
There was a woman years before who once dwelt here,
her necromancy made her neighbours live in fear.
The rumours said they murdered her but were not clear.
I thought her buried ‘neath the floor amidst the dirt,
but now she climbs the stairs, to repay all the hurt.

I listen for a sound to tell me if this body is alive
The slightest breath, a quiet sigh, to indicate that they still thrive.
A second cough foretells the coming of a cold and blighted thing,
a barking hack, inanimate, as low-pitched as a creaking swing.
An airless rasp that comes pretending past her throat from hollow lung.
I squeeze my eyes to stifle thoughts, bite down the scream upon my tongue.
The door jamb shudders, creaks, and grates. I wonder, will it hold or crack?
I wait and tremble, hold my breath, if doing so will turn her back.

With that, her anger starts to build, comes to the fore,
I hear each thud of rage, her body slams the door
incessantly. I fear that even if it lasts,
the frame itself will shatter to her grave-strong blasts.
I draw away towards escape, the window frame
appears my only hope, my candle flame.

But like a moth, I’m in a trap,
I see they’re barred, it’s like a slap
across my face. Within the room
there’s no relief, but only doom.

The door swings wide
I cannot hide

I scream.
I …
 

                                   28 December 2023 
                            updated 20 January 2024