The Hook man

On the day of terrors, T’was a dark, stormy night, For terror and fear,
Were nye to take flight.
In a haunted house, so dark and drear, A small girl shook with fear,
She lay whimpering, dirt to her shin, As the light outside grew oh so dim.
Hesitant she was, she creaked up the stairs,
At the back of her nape, stood up all her hairs,
She heard a faint thud as she was struck with fear,
At the door to her right, she heard, “Oh honey, I’m here!”
She wanted to run, but couldn’t move,
As the footsteps neared, she was doomed,
She felt a presence behind her, wielding a hook,
And she flipped around studying every cranny and nook.
She sighed with relief, there was no one there, But then she felt something slashing at the air, She ran away as the hook man stood poised, Her rapid feet made a nasty noise.
He chased her through the empty halls,
His hook glinting as she crawled,
She got to the balcony with nowhere to run,
As the man stared her down, she knew she was done.

 He grabbed her by the throat and pushed her off,
And left the room with a weary cough,
He clutched the handle and slammed the door,
And whispered to himself, “I won’t be seen again, nevermore!”
But somehow she survived the fall,
And woke up safe, safe from it all,
She wondered and pondered, who was the hook man that now lurked near, Well it was her own father whom she’d once held dear.