Pretentious Bullshit, something like that

“Hello?” I let out in a low, precarious call. “Is anyone ...?”  The words were lost in my throat.  Letting the question hanging in the air, I began to rise.  All around me, the house seemed to creak in response.  I opened the chamber door and looked through the empty halls, now seeming to rise too high, to spread too wide.  For the first time, the walls of the house seemed more than the uncanny heights they had been when I had inherited it years prior, uninviting now to even one so familiar.  Again the sound echoed throughout, seeming to come from every direction, but much more audible now than before.  Remembering the fluttering of paper, I started, left toward the study.
The hallways seemed much longer as I walked along the edges.  Between each break of noise, I would count the seconds.  Only a half-minute passed between them, only two times it came as I went forward, and yet it seemed as if much longer had been spent walking.  I approached the threshold of the room and once again the crackling came from within, but was more dulled than before.  I waited outside the door for a moment, heat crawling up the nape of my neck.  No movement was heard within, thus with a heart pounding like a peal of thunder, I rounded the corner of the doorframe and came to a still.
And then, I laughed.  Within the room there was no intruder, no late night critter.  Inside there was naught but an open book and window.  Marching over the the window feeling embarrassed, placed my hands upon the frame and leaned out.  Looking out the second story window to feel the chill air, looking over at the town lights, I couldn’t help but be amused.