THE HOUSE THAT SPOKE BACK

A Novel of Witnessed Events and Recorded Voices

EDITORIAL REVIEW

THE HOUSE THAT SPOKE BACK is not a haunted-house story. It is something far more unsettling: a procedural account of how a modern city learns—too late—what happens when attention becomes consent.

Told through police reports, institutional responses, and the quiet collapse of public trust, the novel replaces jump scares with inevitability. The horror does not escalate through spectacle, but through reassurance, optimization, and belief. When the cost finally arrives, it is public, undeniable, and irreversible.

Cold, intelligent, and deeply unsettling, THE HOUSE THAT SPOKE BACK reads like a classified file that was never meant to be finished. This is psychological horror for readers who want consequence instead of comfort—and an ending that does not let the world reset.

In the late 1970s, a quiet suburban house became the focus of one of the most documented paranormal investigations in modern history — not because of belief, but because too many witnesses reported the same impossible events.

Police officers watched furniture slide across floors without being touched. Journalists recorded voices speaking from empty rooms. Investigators captured audio of something that answered questions, mocked disbelief, and insisted it had always been there.

As more people gathered, the activity escalated.

The house did not respond to prayer.
It did not respond to reason.
It responded to attention.

THE HOUSE THAT SPOKE BACK is a supernatural horror novel based on the Enfield Poltergeist case, drawing from recorded testimony, eyewitness accounts, and unexplained audio evidence. It is a story of public disbelief, escalating violence, and a presence that learned how to perform once it realized it was being watched.

Some hauntings want silence.
This one wanted an audience.