The sobbing you hear is a lady ghost, whose husband left as she lay there dying. Out at the back, that’s the cat, and that’s the baby, fighting in the garbage bin. Some time back, a man lost all his children gambling in this kitchen. Don’t play cards. The pots and pans go mad, and the crockery completely crazy.
The loud knock-knock coming from the cupboard is only a hand, from fingertip to about halfway up the elbow. If you keep the door shut, it won’t come out, but keeps knocking politely. The creaking on the ceiling, was a broken man with no experience with suicidal hanging. He watched his sweetheart, as she packed and left, like a fish on a hook, still alive and dangling. His grandma slipped on what he dripped, halfway up the stairs. She fell too hard, all the way down, that’s her head forever thumping.
Attracted by something, vampires often come to party. Spitting, slobbering, pissing on the floor, yelling, singing. breaking things. When vampires get drunk, vampires keep on drinking. Outside, the werewolves howl nonstop. Zombies bang the front door constantly. When Mummies break in, they turn the hi fi on and off, and on and off and on.
Souls from Hell turn up, mistaking you for dead, trying to take your body.
Why would you want to live in a place like this? Find another place, pack your bags and move.
You heard it yourself. This is a place where every sound – the cursing, screaming, moaning, crying – and every story – the hurting, beating, killing, dying – is for real. No smoke, no mirrors, no hallucinations.
This is a place where no one needs to lie to you.
This is a place where every word you hear is true.
There must be a million places safer.