text: There it was, at the corner of Linden and Mulberry, the Heishardt House, ripe for the selling. An 1839 mansion built in Gothic style. 6 bedrooms 1 bathroom, two floors, on a double lot. You can’t find beauties like this anymore. Just as I was about to get out of my car and walk the hundred feet or so to the house, I got a call from my boss. It was the usual thing: I’m $300,000 below quota for the quarter and If I didn’t make it... Hell, the house could be possessed by a demon for all I care, this has to be the one. As I got to the front door, it opened just a crack. A girl with bubble gum pink streaks in her hair poked her head out. She had big eyes which were accentuated by her excessive use of black eyeliner. “What do you want?” I was taken aback at that. “I got an email from Mr. Heishardt asking me to visit. I’m here to help him sell his house. Is he home?” “You mean, Dick? Yeah come in, but take your dirty-ass shoes off.” she said. I can’t say I’m the biggest fan of her attitude, but as long as the house sells, she can spit on my shoes for all I care. I walk inside to see an immaculate home. It looks like the kind of thing that Martha Stewart would have designed if she lived in the 1800. The ornate central staircase dominates the foyer. A grand chandelier seems to hold hundreds of real candles as well as thousands of pieces of delicately cut glass. This could easily be a half-million dollar home. Maybe more depending on what kind of renovations are needed. A woman with short silver hair enters wearing a polka dot dress and a red frilly apron that says, “Kiss the Chef.” “Oooooh!” she cooed. “I thought I heard someone enter. We’ve been expecting you. I’m Susan Heishardt, but you can call me Suzy. Stephanie, you haven’t been rude to our guest, have you?” The girl with pink streaks in her hair rolls her eyes, “Ugh, no mom.” “Well don’t be a stranger, come on in,” said Suzy. “I’ve just pulled out a fresh batch of cookies. Richard is waiting for us in the kitchen.” The kitchen looked thoroughly modern for the 1950’s. It would certainly need a new stove, fridge, and dishwasher. New counter tops wouldn’t hurt either. I was practically salivating as I sat down at the dinette kitchen table and handed over my very last business card to Richard Heishardt across from me. We made the usual small talk for a few minutes until the cookies cooled and Suzy placed a plate between us along with a tall glass of whole milk. I was in the middle of explaining the current housing market, and that’s when I heard it... A rumbling sound. Some sort of deep shudder echoed throughout the house. “What was that?” I said. “What was what?” “That rumbling sound. You didn’t hear it?” Richard looked confused. He looked to Suzy. They both shrugged and looked back to me. “I must have imagined it. Anyway, as I was saying-” I then went on to explain the best way to price a house in order to maximize profit. In my head, I was chanting, “This has to sell. This has to sell.” over and over. In the middle of my spiel, I heard... a thump. The plate of cookies jumped slightly off the table. I couldn’t tell where it was coming from. It sounded like it was coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once. “Did you guys hear that?” Richard looked to Suzy who looked equally confused. “Hear what?” they said to me. My Ex-wife always called me crazy, but not this kind of crazy. Maybe if I walked around the house I could tell where it was coming from. Maybe it was “water hammer” from someone turning the faucet off suddenly. “You know, I think I’d like to take a tour of the house.” “Actually, I don’t know about you Suzy, but I’m ready to sign the paperwork.” I was shocked at that. In all my years of being a real estate agent, I had never had a seller so eager. “I haven’t even told you what my fees are.” I said. “Oh, I’m sure they’re reasonable. I’m sure we can trust you. There’s no reason why we can’t trust you, right?” “No! No reason at all.” I said, perhaps a little too emphatically. I whipped out my briefcase and popped it open. I pulled out page after page and had them sign each one. It took about 15 minutes. The whole time, I had this bad feeling, like I ate something rotten, except it was all over my body. When we were finished, I insisted on a tour of the house. “Why don’t we start with the basement?” suggested Suzy. “Actually, I’d like to see the ground floor, then the 2nd floor, then the basement, because that’s generally how potential buyers will tour the house.” Suzy looked to Richard for his approval. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea...” Richard said hesitantly.” “It should be... fine.” said Suzy. I’d already seen the foyer and the kitchen. They took me to see the Dining room, Living Room, Parlor Room, the Study, and the Servant’s Quarters. The wood was polished so that the rich mahogany stood out against the moss green of the carpet. The rooms were filled with plush chairs and ornate tables. Ancient paintings adorned the walls, honoring the illustrious line of Heishardts throughout the ages. Back in the foyer, Stephanie was sitting on the bottom stair, playing on her phone. We ascended the stairs to the second floor and I admired the delicate pattern of the runner under my feet. It’s those little touches that bring a half million dollar house to a six hundred and fifty thousand dollar house. At the top of the stairs was the master bedroom. To the left was the only bathroom in the house. Adjacent to that was the second bedroom. A corridor led around the corner to the remaining three bedrooms. We toured them all and I was deeply impressed by the excellent condition of the house. I was starting to calculate the commission I would make, when I heard it again. That thump sound. I could feel it in my bones and it made me feel nauseous. Again Richard and Suzy didn’t seem to notice it. I told my hosts that I was ready to see the basement now. As we descended the stairs, I noticed something wasn’t right. Behind me should have been the Master bedroom, the bathroom to the left of it, and then the second bedroom. Instead the three bedrooms were behind me. But there was only one staircase in the whole house. I retraced my steps through the corridor to the Master bedroom, and there before me... was the stairs again. Stephanie was still sitting at the bottom and still playing on her phone. “Is something wrong?” asked Suzy nervously. “No no. I’m just... I think I ought’a sit down.” I said. “You don’t look well at all. Let’s go back to the kitchen. I’ll have Suzy make you some tea.” I sipped on some Earl Grey and felt much better and ready to see the basement. Suzy flicked on the only incandescent bulb that lit the stairs down into the deep, dark, basement. She led the way, then me, Stephanie, and Richard at the rear. I swear I could hear a munching sound, like a tiger gnawing on a bone. But no one else seemed to hear it, so I chalked it up to another imagination. Once we were on solid footing, I heard a deep grumbling, and a heavy metal chain dragging across the floor. It was still dark. The only illumination came from the single bulb upstairs. “You got him, Richard? I need to find the light switch” said Suzy. Richard grabbed me by the neck and one hand on my wrist. I was so shocked that I froze in place. I had no idea what was going on. “Gosh. It’s so hard to find. Sometimes it’s just easier to cast the spell.” Then she said something that sounded like Latin and Russian combined. A glowing white orb appeared out of nothing and floated a foot above our heads. Then I could see what was making those noises this whole time. An eyeless, hairless, grey monster. It didn’t have lips, just two jagged rows of vicious teeth that protruded outwards in every direction. A thick rope of saliva dribbled out of it’s hungry maw. It snarled and took a step closer. I tried to back away, but Richard had me firmly in his grasp. The beast took another step closer and Richard squeezed harder. It opened up it’s jaws, much wider than any human would be able to, and lunged at my face. A heavy gauge chain that was wrapped around the beast’s neck and tied to the wall snapped taught and saved my life. The beast snarled and chomped at the air hungrily. Suzy began chanting in that strange language. Stephanie interrupted, “Dick, I don’t want to go through with the ritual after all. “We already have a sacrifice. We should complete the ritual and then we can talk. Now help your mother with the chanting.” said Richard. “You can’t tell me what to do, Dick.” “I’m your father, and you’ll do as I tell you.” “You’re my step-dad and I’m 78 years old! I’ll do whatever the hell I want to do.” Stephanie said. She walked up to Richard and shoved him much harder than I would have expected from a girl her size. Richard let go of me and fell on the floor and I could hear a little, ”snick” sound. Richard grabbed his hip and winced like he’d been stabbed through the heart. Suzy was just as shocked as Richard and just as speechless. Stephanie grabbed my arm and pulled me towards the stairs. I didn’t need any urging. I raced up those stairs like my life depended on it. She walked me out the front door. “You forgot your briefcase in the kitchen.” “That’s ok,” I said as I wiped the sweat off my forehead. “I don’t think I’ll need it.”