The table growled at him.
More accurately, it grumbled. Sort of a put off noise, surely directed at him and not the chairs, or else why would it have been so loud? After all, the table and the chairs seemed to have a sense of camaraderie about them; surely they had plotted against him more than once.
He walked past the dining set warily, keeping an eye on the belligerent piece of cursed wood, and hoping nothing jumped out to stub his toes. Again.
Oh, yes, it all seemed crazy when you said it like that, but living in a cursed mansion can in fact take someone's sanity and test it like nothing else. He was only opting to roam about in the wee hours of the morning as he was because his bed had dumped his gracelessly on his ass, and left. So, now he was without a bed in his room, and gods knew where his bed had actually trundled off to—pun not intended in the least.
He grimaced as he skirted around the edge of a particularly nasty counter with an affinity for biting, and continued through the door that he knew would hit him as hard as it could on his way out. So, he did what any normal human would in such a situation: he booked it the second he was through the doorway. And lo and behold, the second his big toe left the threshold the malicious door began its swift way inward to scathe his ankles. He managed to jump out of the way barely in time. After the near miss, the door hissed and creaked angrily, flapping wildly as though in a torrential wind.
All of this used to scare the ever-loving piss out of him. Now, it was merely another sleepless night in what he supposed he could call his home. He had certainly been living here long enough.
He kept walking until he came upon another doorway (this one thankfully devoid of bewitchments), and approached the lock. "Hey little buddy. Want to open up for me?" he cooed lightly, leaning forward over his knees to peer with a saccharine smile at the silver contraption. A singular, slit-pupiled eye opened from within the center, blinked at him a few times, and began clicking and snarling at him. "Stingy little bastard..." he darkly muttered, countenance right back to his brooding, haven't-slept-in-two-nights self.
Of course, now he was going to have to find the key to the library, all so he could find another book to read before it flew away from him. But, the key also having a life it shouldn't have, that was going to take forever. As usual.
I haven't gotten any further in this yet, but here it is, whatever 'it' may be. I don't know if I like it yet or not, or if I can actually go anywhere with it. Lol So, lemme know what you think?