An Introspection of a Shrieking Shack

The walls shuddered and heaved. Nearly thirty winters had heaved and buckled its walls, causing them to crack and splinter. Its hollow rooms had housed pain, fear, hunger, hatred, and bloodshed, the nightmares and horror of a boy inflicted with an unimaginable disease. Its floors had also seen tumbles, playful romps, happiness, the unyielding loyalty of four friends. For the first time its old wooden planks were witness to death, blood seeping through the floorboards and dripping to the tunnel below, taking with it the life, memories, essence, and final being of an unsung hero, black-haired, sallow-faced, strong.