Friday Short Story #1: Selling the Fear

Prompt: "a comedy about a realtor trying to sell a haunted house"

Tandra had her work cut out for her today.

She couldn’t believe she was getting to show a home like this so early in her career. One of the oldest houses on Galveston Island, it was one that had been raised up after the hurricane of 1900. It looked the part too, with its white washed columns and walls. Ancient, but well-kept because of its historical value, the square footage and history alone meant that she would walk away with an amazing commission if she pulled off the sale.

As she paced between the large windows in the foyer, she noted that the furniture and art from the previous owners still adorned the place and, oddly, it looked like they were all 1960’s mod style. The juxtaposition was quite jarring. Regardless, it upped the value and the new tenants could do whatever they darn well pleased with the crap. Her appointment was running a bit late. A relief, because she had been too… but now she was here and ready to sell this house!

Turning her pace to loop around the rest of the first floor, suddenly Tandra heard a banging at the back kitchen door. They were here! Speeding up a bit, she quickly reached the yellow tiled kitchen, which still brandished hanging brass pots and gleaming knives. Reaching the door, she could see their silhouettes outlined in the tight grids of wire on the old screen door.

Pulling it open, she started to greet them. But no one was there. Only the wall of wet Galveston heat waited for her on the other side of the screen. Spanish moss drifting in the bows of the oak trees out back.

To unnerved to even whimper, Tandra simply closed the door slowly and turned her back too it.

“My horoscope was right.” She thought to herself nodding slowly, eyes wide. “I knew that lady in the mall was legit. I mean, how else could she get away charging so much and still be in business?!”

Lost in thought, she actually did jump when the knock at the front door finally came. Hitting her head on a chandelier in the dining room and sending dust falling all about. Running back to the front of the house, she screeched to a halt at the blinds by the front door and slowly spread them to peak through. She wanted to be sure this time.

What waited for her on the other side was the most preppy couple she had ever seen.

“Did that man actually have on an ascot?! And she has pink and white stockings? I wonder who does their hair? That’s impressive.”

Pulling her thoughts together, Tandra took a deep breath and opened the large oak door.

“You must be the Charlestons!” Tandra greeted grinning widely, dust from the chandelier still drifting from her hair.

“We are!” the young lady began. Her voice sounded like what a Pomeranian would sound like if was a member of Alvin and the Chipmunks, “I’m Amy and this is my husband Brett!”

“Hello.” Was all he said, but that one word changed pitch so many times it came out, “I have money.”

“Wonderful! Well, my name is Tandra, we spoke earlier on the phone. Are you ready to see the property?”

“Oh yes,” the man called Brett jumped in “we’ve been waiting for this our whole lives.”

Starting to feel her stride again, Tandra quickly began leading them around the first floor. They didn’t seem to notice the furniture, or pots and pans, or the dusty chandelier in the dining room. In fact, they generally seemed distracted. Oh, they looked at everything and commented. But Tandra could not shake the feeling they were just making small talk.

Finally, Amy chirped up, “Is there a bathroom on this floor?”

“Oh absolutely!” Tandra replied, excited to up any energy at all to help the sale. “It’s actually a bit of a marvel. You see, when they lifted the house, after the hurricane like I told you earlier, they made sure all the original plumbing came too! I can’t imagine why, since they clearly had money to get nicer new pipes. Must have been a reason though because they have never had any problems in the history of the property.”

Reaching the bathroom door before them, Tandra turned the porcelain knob and swept the door wide, only to immediately slam it shut.

In the brief second she had glimpsed the bathroom, a nightmare-scape of blood, broken teeth, and gobs of long black hair, dripping from every surface, burned itself into her retinas.

“What’s wrong?” Brett’s moody voice asked from behind.

“Nothing!” Tandra blurted as she tired to hide the door with her back, the color drained from her face. “Do you want to see the upstairs?”

“Well what’s wrong with the bathroom?” Amy yipped.

“Oh nothing! I just think the contractors have some paint drying in there, yeah, that’s right. Sensitive stuff what with all the historical molding.” Tandra replied in a flurry, ending with a nervous tight laugh.

“Hm, well ok, I guess we can see the upstairs.” Any said, seeming appeased for now.

The walk up the stairs was one of the longest moments in Tandra’s life. Somewhere in between her last root canal and waiting for her friend to catch her top when it came off on that waterslide.

“Oh, man this is getting intense.” She thought on the way up. “How am I supposed to sell a house this clearly haunted? It’s a good thing I already believed in this stuff or I would have passed out at the kitchen door.”

“I love the handrails on the stairs and overlook, don’t you dearest?” Amy said, finally seeming to notice things.

“Indeed” Brett replied, “A few more things to check and I might start to get interested.”

Not wanting to squander such clear progress, Tandra raced as far ahead of them as she could without looking suspicious. When she reached the door to the master bedroom, she was sure to open more cautiously this time.

Bathed in afternoon light through gauzy old curtains, the room seemed totally fine. No bodies on the bed, check. No faces made of vapor in the standing mirror, good. Feeling assured, Tandra spread open the door for Amy and Brett to marvel at the grandeur of the wide room.

“Ooooh!” They exclaimed in unison.

“Oh, Brett, the curtains are so eerie!” Amy said.

“I know, and that dresser is just IT!” Bret replied as he crossed the room in a few eager strides to gape at the brazenly orange dresser in the corner.

Tandra was starting to get excited from their enthusiasm, oddly triggered though it might be, when suddenly both of her clients grew quiet. Brett slowly walking to stick his head in the dark bathroom and Amy looking underneath the bed. Each taking a moment to stare before returning the other’s side. It was Amy that spoke first.

“This is a really nice place, but it doesn’t quite have it for us.” She said.

“Yes, it really is a shame. It’s almost perfect.” Brett confirmed.

“They saw something.” Tandra thought immediately. “They have to have. Their mood just changed so suddenly!”

“Maybe I can show you the-” Tandra was cut off by Brett.

“Oh, that won’t be necessary. We’ve seen all we need.” He said. Already walking out of the room with Amy in tow.

By now Tandra’s heart was racing. Trying to think of anything she could do to save the sale, she followed their rapid stride down the hallway and back to the stairwell. What waited there was exactly what she had been trying to avoid.

Hovering in the space between the stairs and the vaulted foyer were two ghastly specters. What looked like the grizzly remnants of a drowned man and woman hung motionless in the air, cloaked in tattered sails and crusted in barnacles.

Everyone on the stairwell froze.

Then, the mouths and the eyes of the specters gaped suddenly open, black and hollow. Fast as a candle being blown out, their ghostly forms zipped through Amy and Brett. Pinning them to the wall in a moment of pure wide-eyed terror. All Tandra could do was cover her head in her hands and scream.

A few moments after her scream had faded, Tandra felt hands shaking her to look up. Raising her head, she met the gazes of the happiest preppy couple she had ever seen.

“We’ll take it!” They both blurted out in unison, tears still in the corners of their eyes.

“Excuse me?” Tandra sputtered.

“That’s all that was missing!” Amy squeaked. “We were so worried it was another hoax house.”

“I told you we have been waiting all our lives for this.” Bret went on. “Every home we’ve seen has been a fake until now.”

“Well in that case,” Tandra said with a growing smile. “I can’t wait to show you the downstairs bathroom.”