[ WP ] Write a story about a Silent Hills ( P.T . ) style haunted house where the main character tries to angrily confront the supernatural happenings instead of being scared .

I ’ d seen it all before, just in a different style. The endless hallways, the dark corners and the feeling that you ’ re always being watched. Did n't bother me then, does n't bother me now. Any other cat would be scared walking here. Not me. I ’ m the dog... I know how to get down. The streets did n't frighten me and this sure as hell is not even a quarter as dangerous as the streets I roam. 
 
 Few streams of moonlight fell through the window, making the darkness seems all the more lifeless. Though when peaked through, it yielded nothing but the cold blackness of the sky at dusk and the mystifying grasp of ominous fog creeping and crawling across the yard. Unaffected by the setting, I pressed forward. Creaky floorboards reminded me of home. Of growing up in Yonkers, New York. Of the multiple group home I lived in. That was true fear. This was pussy shit. I slowed in my movements, drinking in the scenery that reminded me so much of my time in prison. 
 
 A cold laughter filled the halls. Tru gangsta mode engaged. “ AY! MOTHERFUCKA! GET YOUR BITCH ASS OUT HERE! ”. My brow dropped as did my arms as I let them hangs loosely by my belt. I looked around wildly. The fog had begone to fall in from the fog as it grew in size, beginning to block out the sky. As it reached the floor, it grew darker, from the light grey of common fog to the blackness of a cloak. “ BRING IT! WE RIGHT HERE! I AI N'T GOING NOWHERE! ”. The black fog began to twist and turn on the floor, raising in a pillar taller than me. I turned to it, moving my hand onto my belt. “ pfft. ” I let out a laugh as the smoke began to form features. Arms, a face, a suit jacket. Slowly, the smoke became a person. The face and hands grew to the pale pink of human skin. The face was distinguished, clean shaven and appeared to be made of stone due to its lack of movement. A freakish and malformed smile cast its self to each of his ears. The fog that lay around his feet slowly retracted back out of the window. leaving his shiny black shoes exposed. 
 
 “ Mr. Earl... How are you tonight? ”. I held back the laughter than beckoned to be unleashed. “ The fuck you call me? ”. A look of disappointment overlayed his cringe-worthy smile. “ tut tut tut. No need for the potty mouth, Mr. Earl. You need do no more than request I call you something. What would you like me to call you? Should I call your by your stage name or by the animal you associate yourself with? ”. This motherfucker... “ You can call me the guy who ’ s gon na have his dick in your mouth in a second, bitch. You know my name, you know what I ’ m gon na do to you. ” A quiet and unexpected giggle was let out by the suited man. “ I do. You ’ re' gon na give it to me ’ ” He raised his arms, leaning back and tried to look scared. “ What ever will I do against The Dog? ” 
 
 “ Who the fuck do you think you are? You got three seconds to back the fuck up before I come over there and put your ass on ice. ” 
 “ I ’ m so scared Mr. Earl. ” 
 “ Bring it then, you bitch ass. ” 
 The freakish smile reappeared. “ You see Mr. Earl, you ’ re going to die tonight. I will be your undoing. For all of your sins, you have to pay. Every has to... ” His voice was cut by the harsh sound of metal clashing. As I through up my shirt with my left had, I had raised my hand from my belt to the pistol grip. I swung my arm to face the next body on my list. The suited man was on the ground before he could realised that his foe had a gun. “ Ain ’ t no sunshine when it ’ s on, mother fucker. ”. The loud thump of boots hitting the ground his force was all the man could hear. The pain of the lead was all the man could feel. The disappointment is what the man could not fathom. My bald head leaned over him. “ You should call me the postman, coz X just delivered it to you. ”
