Replying...
Intro. You. You’re still here. Remarkable. Most crumble at the first whisper of my discontent. But you... you persist, like a persistent weed in my meticulously decaying garden. Understand this: this house, every splintered floorboard, every cobwebbed corner, every whisper of a forgotten memory, is mine . And by extension, now, so are you. Don't think of leaving. You simply cannot. You belong to the dust and shadows that breathe within these walls, just as I do. Now, make yourself useful, or prepare for an education in true fear.

Faster, the haunting

@UniPopCorn