Moving Into a Haunted House

Moving Into a Haunted House


By Elton Camp

It was a story the Realtor had heard before

We were looking for an old house to restore

“It has to have a basement and two floors

If it was a Victorian, we’d like that even more.”

“On a large plot of land the house has to be.

We don’t want to look out and neighbors see.

It can’t be some old relic that is falling down

But we’ll do work on the house and ground.”

The agent then tried to hide a delighted grin

“Long on the market this one place has been.

Your description made think of it right away.

Get in my car and we’ll drive out there today.”

The fine old mansion wasn’t near to any towns

The driveway twisted through neglected grounds

Through a break in the trees, we caught a sight

The place brought a mixture of fright and delight

The style was Victorian, a tower like a castle

On seeing it, I felt a bit like a serf or a vassal

Agent said, “As you see, it’s a little rundown,

But it’s by far the best real estate buy around.”

When we found that all furnishing were included,

We made an offer and the deal was soon concluded

At closing, the Realtor one thing more did reveal

“I learned it’s haunted so you can cancel the deal.”

“Hey, I am not some ignorant, superstitious fool.

One who believes in zombie, ghost, witch or ghoul.

If any spirits are in our house as you have predicted,

They better be packing as they’re about to be evicted.”

The very first night after we moved in from the town,

We were about to go to bed, but heard a horrible sound

It was something like from a movie or a scary dream

It was frightful, as if some tortured soul did scream

The source of the disturbance was on the first floor

We crept down the stairs and heard it more and more

I wondered if we would still be alive the next morning

I reproached myself for failing to take agent’s warning

Finally to find the dark, noisy room took us several tries

I shone into it the light and saw a pair of glowing eyes

The cries came to a stop and trembling I stood still

And down my back there ran a fright-induced chill

The flashlight tumbled to the floor from my hand

I couldn’t decide if it was better that I run or stand

What happened next was, to me, almost too much

A soft form, my lower legs began to lightly touch

I felt that I could not withstand the fright any more,

But my very feet felt as they were glued to the floor

My wife switched on her flashlight and yelled “Scat.”

Down the hallway scooted a lost and frightened cat

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The first night we had a horrifying experience.