Now

Culverton house had been empty for at least another two decades and with each passing year it got harder to look at. The wood blackened, shingles came off the roof and paint chipped off. It was hard to get steady up keep on the house, because no one ever got off the property without getting hurt or scared off in some way.

Gardeners ended up lost for days in the maze, only to be found talking riddles about talking lilies and poisonous roses and the angry woman in the tree.

People who went into the house heard voices, footsteps on the floorboards behind or above them, or creaking of something in the attic. The basement had an unnatural chill and a heaviness, which was problematic because that was where all the electrical panels and boilers were.

The house was draining, both emotionally and financially. And it most likely would never sell again.

Every year, the realtors of Crystal and Joe Realty would hand this estate off to one of its younger staff as a sort of right of passage/hazing ritual. Though sometimes it would be passed off as a punishment. That was how Sally had gotten it again.

Sally had only been working with Crystal and Joe for three years. She wasn't new but she wasn't senior either. She had made the mistake of entering a relationship with a married man... who had been friends with Crystal and Joe themselves.

When the affair was found out, Crystal had been livid, as it was her friend who had been cheated on. She couldn't fire her outright, as that would have grounds for an unlawful suit, so she had settled with punishing her.

She had all her listings pulled and she was given one house to sell.

Can you guess which house it was?

Sally refused to be defeated by a house though, even if it was haunted. She had taken a different approach from all the others in the past who had sort of given up once they were handed the house. She had paid a video crew to go in and take pictures and video-maps of all the room that they could and then put all of it up on the company website and a few off-brand realty websites hoping to find anyone who might be interested.

Even to just buy the land and bulldoze the whole place.

God if only someone could do that. Unfortunately the place was so old, and a half-confirmed stop on the Underground Railroad, the Historical Society would pitch a fit over it's demolition.

Sally had assumed it would be another year and this house would still be in their listings. She just had to hope that she could garner favour with Crystal now that she had ended things with her married Beau, at least enough to have Culverton House given to someone else.

She was starting to give up hope and then this single woman from New York called about purchasing the house.

She had called up all excited, asking questions about the place, the space, what of the land was included, was the furniture included too? Sally had answered all of those questions and then reluctantly asked if she knew about the history of the house.

This was the part of the call where most people changed their minds.

They would ask Sally what they meant, and she would have to go into the—literally—bloody background of the house. They'd ask all the regular follow up questions and then they'd say that they'd get back to her. And they'd either drop off the face of the earth, or, call back and say that they weren't interested.

Instead, when she asked this prospective new owner that question, she got: "Oh you mean the murders and weird deaths? Yeah, that's fine. So how many bathrooms are there in total? The listing says 15 but that can't be right."

It was right. Each room had its own bathroom. This was done when the Walker's had turned the place into a boutique hotel, and they had been redone again when the White's wanted to make it a bed a breakfast.

Then she asked where she could send the file about the history and the hauntings so this woman couldn't say she hadn't been properly informed about the situation before purchasing the house.

The woman got the file by express mail and put in an offer the next day.

It was the only offer they had gotten in almost twenty years, they accepted it right away. Even though it was less than half of what they were asking.

They just wanted that house sold and off their books.

They sent over all the paperwork, which the woman signed right away and then she asked when she would be able to move in.

They said whenever she wanted and she gave them the date that she'd be coming down.

She had some things to close up in New York after all, her own sale to finalize, bank accounts to close and transfer, government forms to fill out, you know normal moving stuff.

News spread fast that the Culverton House had sold. Bets were made about how long the new owner would last, and how she'd go.

They wondered what level of weird she was.

Was she a non-believer who figured all the tragedies to be coincidence, or a believer who wanted to see the horror with her own two eyes?

A month later, a car they didn't recognize drove into town and everyone knew who it was. The new owner was finally there, and all her neighbours, the whole town actually, were in a tizzy about her arrival.

She hadn't booked a hotel, which meant she planned to stay in the Culverton House her first night, despite not having come with any of her stuff.

Yes the house came fully furnished but that didn't mean it was aired out. It wasn't like Sally could get anyone to come in to dust and clean the house like she had wanted, not without paying a massive deductible to cover any paranormal activity.

She would just have to hope that the new owner wouldn't care.

On the day in question, Sally met the new owner at the house as she had called her on the way in to give Sally her ETA.

Angelica Foster was an average looking girl with almost white blonde hair and sparkling green eyes. She was of an average height, an average weight, and of average looks. The most spectacular thing about her was the necklace she wore around her neck. It was this blue stone wired into place onto a copper medallion. Lapis Lazuli maybe. Though the metal combined was weird.

Not that any of that mattered, though. As the new woman in town all the single men and many of the married were going to make a pass at her. They were always like that with fresh meat.

No the problem was, this poor new owner was looking up at that house with the wide smile of excitement that many new home owners had. Except she was looking at a house of death with that smile and Sally felt a little bad about it.

Just by looking at her, she could tell that Angelica Foster was a non-believer. She no doubt thought she'd move into that house and get her happily ever after.

What she was going to get was a casket.

She handed over the keys to Angelica and tried to smile, even though she felt like she was leading a lamb to the slaughter.

They exchanged pleasantries, but she refused to open the door. They stood on the porch, finalizing everything. Angelica signed everything else she was supposed to sign about getting the keys and having the estate for the house transferred over to her and all of that.

And then Sally could go.

She could wash her hands and let this poor little white woman live out her horror movie ending. She just couldn't stop feeling bad for this poor unsuspecting new owner.

So before she left she turned back to Angelica.

"Uhm... and... you looked over those files I sent you?"

"I did."

"All of them?"

Angelica pinned her with a bit of a dry glare as if she didn't understand why Sally kept harping her on this. It clearly wasn't welcome. "Yes. All of them."

"And you're not... uhm... you're not... I mean this place is haunted. No one who moves in survives the year."

The blonde turned to her, a smile twinkling in her green eyes. "Oh trust me. I can handle it."

And then she turned back to the looming house of death, that smile never leaving her face.

Sally shook his head but left. Her payment had cleared and that was all that mattered. In a year this house would probably be back on the market.

Asusual.