Dark Holme Inner Circle

I didn’t notice anything was wrong with the house at first.

That’s the part that bothers me now.

It wasn’t cold.

It didn’t smell strange.

Nothing moved when it shouldn’t have.

It just felt… attentive.

Every room seemed to register my presence a fraction of a second too late, like it was learning me as I moved through it. The stairs creaked only after I’d already stepped. The lights hummed softly once I stopped speaking. Even the silence adjusted itself, settling differently depending on where I stood.

I told myself it was stress. Or imagination. Or the echo of too many late nights alone.

But then I realised something small and undeniable:

The house was reacting — not to my actions, but to my thoughts.

And the moment I understood that, it responded.

Your turn.

Continue or finish the story in any length you like — a paragraph, a page, or just a few lines.

You don’t need to be a writer.

You don’t need to be scary.

Just take it where you think it wants to go.