Page 59 of Where the Dark Things Bloom

Hearts can break but still beat on,

So sleep, my love, till the pain is gone.”

“Roses bloom where no one sees,

Ghosts still hum beneath the trees.

So hush now, darling, time to rest—

With broken dreams against your chest.”

And as she darted down the hallway, I chased after her. Something about her was too familiar. I reached out, almost grabbing her sleeve, but she vanished behind the door of a room I was never supposed to enter. Dad had always forbidden it.

I slipped inside.

The room was still, dust-heavy. Shelves lined the walls, weighed down with framed memories—photos of smiles, laughter, lost time.

At the center, a woman sat in a wooden chair, gently rocking a child in her arms. Her voice rose soft and sweet, humming the same lullaby I once sang.

“Mom?” I whispered. “Mom... is that you?”

She turned.

Her face was breaking, skin sagging, rotting away in slow motion. Bone peeked through. A hollow eye met mine. I screamed, the sound ripping from somewhere deep, shaking my ribs, rattling my soul.

“Run,” she whispered, barely audible.

The room shoved me out, walls breathing, floor trembling, and I stumbled back into the hallway.

Dorian stood by the attic door.

He was still. Watching. His eyes were stark white, blank like glass. Something inside him wasn’t him anymore.

His face sagged in slack terror, lower lip trembling. Drool spilled from the corner of his mouth. And in his hands was an axe.

“Kill. Kill. Kill,” he murmured, again and again, a twisted smirk blooming across his face.

I shrieked, pinching my arm, clawing at my skin to wake up—please let this be a dream.But the pain was real, sharp, nerve-deep.

I ran.

Down the stairs, feet slipping, heart thundering. I missed steps, stumbled sideways, and nearly fell.

This isn’t him,I repeated.It’s something else. Something inside him.

I reached the front door. Yanked it open.

And I ran.

Into the night, lungs burning, eyes stinging. My vision blurred, but I didn’t stop. The air tore through me as my heart pounded like war drums in my ears.

No matter how fast I ran, I always ended up back inside.

The house looped around me, folding in on itself—an endless circle I couldn’t break. Door after door, hallway after hallway,and every time I thought I’d reached the exit, I found myself in a different room. A new memory. A fresh nightmare.

I was trapped.

Haunted.

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