House Of D

Once there was a cozy little house that wanted nothing more than to be lived in and loved. By a family, a couple, or bachelor, it didn't matter to the house, as long as it could fulfill its purpose; to give warmth and shelter to those that would love and appreciate it in turn.

Yet, for all its quaintness and charm, the little house could never keep an owner for very long. For you see, through no fault of its own, the cozy little house was haunted.

Over the years, the spirits of those that had once lived and died within its walls, came back to the house that they had called home and now filled its rooms with a cold dread that anyone who stepped foot inside could feel; an icy chill up and down their spines.

Whispering voices, flickering lights, phantasmagorical furniture moving on its own, and spectral images in the dark, all driving any new, living, owners away in a fright; leaving the little house sad and alone.

Over the years, the neglect of not having any owners had left the once pristine little house run-down and dilapidated. So much so, that after going so long being unloved and uninhabited, the house gave up any hope of ever again having anyone to call it home.

That is, until the day a well-groomed man in a dark suit came one evening with the realtor to look over the property.

The house became anxious as the saleswoman nervously took the man through its dust-filled rooms; all the time hoping that none of the ghouls and ghosts would manifest themselves and scare him off.

Just as the house thought nothing was going to happen and it might potentially find a new owner, the walls began to bleed and a troupe of the nastier spirits started to wail and knock shelves and chairs about.

The poor house's hopes fell before they even started to rise, yet, even though the young realtor screamed in terror and ran out into the street, the handsome yet pale young man stood stoically inspecting the finely-made valour valances above the bedroom window.

Continuing to walk through the rest of the house on his own, the man finally exited through the front doors, all manner of paranormal activities happening inside behind him as he stood on the creaking wood of the porch's floorboards; none of it fazing him even slightly.

The realtor called to him from the other side of the street that she would show him some other houses, but he simply regarded the house itself; a slight flash of embarrassed heat came over the house as the man looked it over and a tiny sliver of hope started to build.

Then man turned quickly to face the realtor, flourishing the tailored cape around his shoulders dramatically.

"No, madam," Said the man with a thick accent. "I believe I will quite, at home here."

A smile slid across his face, showing a flash of white fangs that caused the realtor to run screaming once again, throwing the deed paperwork into the air; presumably for him to sign later.

But the house took no notice of the horror on the fleeing saleswoman's face; it was filled with so much exuberance that the spirits and their blood within nearly bust through its rafters.

It was going to have an owner again; a handsome, foreign young owner with a full and wonderful laugh that filled the air as lightning streaked across the darkening night sky, and would hopefully fill the house with life for many, many years to come.