Skylle Buys a House

Come feel the cold, the bitter chill That creeps across the floor. Come see the bell that, clapperless, Swings silently by the door. Come hear the little footsteps As they tiptoe up the stair. Come smell the reek of murders past That lingers in the air. Come see the horrors manifold In corners hid away. If you've the stomach for the game, Then come inside and play.