The House on the Hill
A house stands upon a shady hill
The wind not blowing, the trees all still
There is a story, though one not oft told
Of this very house, now aged and cold
A woman lived here, her husband too
They had two kids and one more due
It was late one night, when they were abed
She heard a sound outside in the shed
She roused her husband to go and see
From what manner of creature this sound did be
He headed downstairs, a gun in his hand
Snuck out the door and passed over his land
Outside of the shed he drew up short
For inside the structure he heard a snort
Carefully he opened the door to look
Though in truth he was scared so his whole body shook
Inside was a demon, there was no other word
With horns and a tail and a body all furred
The door squeaked on its hinges and the demon whirled
To look at the man with his claws unfurled
It took but an instant for the claws to reach home
Slicing the man right down to the bone
He screamed for an instant, then fell down dead
His body askew, blood a river from his head
The woman inside heard the terrible noise
And in her fright, she lost all her poise
She shouted out loud for her husband to answer
But the demon grew louder, its voice spreading like a cancer
It raced through the shed and entered the house
Seeking its prey like a cat hunts a mouse
It found the woman there and her children too
And there was nothing at all they were able to do
She pleaded and begged, but the beast didn't care
Stripping their flesh and tearing their hair
The neighbors found them the following week
But the demon was gone, even though long they did seek
About a year later, the house was all rotted
Yet in the debris a neighbor claimed that he spotted
A ghostly figure moving through the yard
And this tale did he tell, as if he were a bard
The figure was a woman in a white dressing gown
With trickles of red running down from her crown
In her hands was a child, though not yet a full form
As if he were growing and had not yet been born
She gave a loud wail and called out for her mate
But there was no answer, though long she did wait
The ghost reappears every month at full moon
When there is bright light to reveal all the gloom
Now no one will visit the house on the hill
And aside from the hauntings, all remains still