When I was house hunting with a realtor, I found this perfect place. Great neighborhood, amazing condition, and ridiculously low price. Like, TOO low. I kept searching for some sort of catch—mold, foundation issues, ghosts (okay, kidding… sort of). Everything checked out, but there was this MASSIVE lock on the basement door.
It didn’t fit the vibe of the house at all. When I asked the realtor about it, she legit blushed and awkwardly said she didn’t know why it was there. But THEN she dropped this weird line like, “If you buy the house, I’ll send you the key later.” Weird, right? Still, she kept pushing how it was “the deal of a lifetime,” and honestly? It looked like a dream home. Against my better judgment, I went for it.
Fast forward to my first night there. Around midnight, I was jolted awake by this strange, muffled noise coming from the basement. My heart dropped. I grabbed the nearest “weapon” (a mop, lol) and headed downstairs.
I was tired of renting and ready to fulfill my dream of owning a home. The house seemed perfect—charming, affordable, and full of potential. But something felt off, especially the locked basement door.
The first night, I heard strange giggles and whispers. Even the police found nothing, brushing it off as my imagination. The next day, the previous owner, Margaret, called, offering to buy the house back, her tone full of unease. Suspicious, I installed a camera.
That night, the truth came out. The footage showed Margaret planting a speaker and fog machine in the basement to scare me into selling. She was caught red-handed and arrested.
At last, the house was mine—not haunted, just hard-earned.
