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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Justhegirlnextdoor on 2023-06-27 13:26:23+00:00.
The Lakins home. Upon first glance, it looked like a traditional two story home. In fact, it was very inviting on the outside. The house had a wrap around porch, white picket fence, well established oak trees, cute little flowers dangling in hanging pots. It looked like the normal, suburban, American dream. That’s where the normalcy ended though.
I remember when it first popped up on my radar. It was in the heat of the Summer and that particular day was sweltering. The family that owned it said that it belonged to their deceased grandmother. They didn’t want anything in the house and said that I could sell it with all the furnishings inside. It was rare that I even had clients willing to do this, so obviously I had questions.
“Gretchen, are you sure you don’t want anything from the house?” My words were nothing but sympathetic as I shoved the “FOR SALE” sign into the front yard.
Cool, blue eyes stared up at me before averting to the ground. “I appreciate the concern, but the rest of the family doesn’t want anything to do with this house, and neither do I.”
Curiosity swirled around in my head as I glanced up at her. Swiping the perspiration that began to bead just above my brow, I silently wondered why no one even wanted to step foot inside. Had her grandmother really been that horrible of a person?
“Has anyone come to grab any of her belongings, though? The furniture is fine to leave behind, but what about some of the more personal things?” I questioned.
Crossing her arms, Gretchen sort of shuffled in place before saying, “All of that has already been taken care of. We really just want this house off of our hands, and we heard that you’re pretty good at what you do.”
A small, understanding smile tugged at my lips. I wouldn’t push it any further. I'm sure they had a reason for wanting to get rid of it, and the last thing I was going to do was pry. I was a realtor after all, not a therapist.
“I’ll get it sold.” Reaching out a hand, I shook hers and offered a few words of reassurance before going about my way.
That night when I came home, I kicked my heels off at the front door, tossed my blazer on the couch and listed the Lakins house as I sat down at my kitchen table and ate dinner. The only thing that I knew about the woman that owned the house was that she lived alone for about a year after her husband passed, and that none of her family wanted anything to do with her. For some reason, a part of me felt bad for her.
Looking around my own space, I couldn’t help but contemplate what would happen with all of my things if I passed. I lived alone and my parents were out of state. I visited them a couple of times a year around the holidays, but besides that, I didn’t have a husband or children to pass anything on to. There was a freedom that came to living on your own, but everyone failed to mention that there was an overwhelming amount of loneliness that came with it too. I was successful, sure, but I didn’t have anyone to share it with, and some nights that was an unbearably empty feeling.
Being in my mid twenties, it should have been easy for me to find someone to fill that void, but these days, it was much harder than I’d even anticipated. I’d tried dating sites, but I wasn’t half as good at “listing myself” as I was at listing houses. Cracking open my fridge, I pulled out my favorite cheap wine and poured myself a glass.
As I lay in bed, I couldn’t help but look over at the empty spot next to me. My hand stretched out and brushed over the spot, the fabric cool and smooth against my touch. Sleep didn’t come easy that night, but then again, it didn’t most nights.
When I awoke the next morning, I shoved my feelings aside and got straight to work. Despite the strange circumstances surrounding the Lakins house, I was sure that this would be an easy sell. I wouldn’t have to deal with coordinating with the homeowner to see when they could leave for 30 minutes to an hour so that I could show the house, and from what it looked like on the outside, I didn’t think the house would need any kind of renovations. This sale should have been a piece of cake, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. Hindsight is indeed 20/20.
The second I received the key to the house, I was more than excited to see what the inside looked like. If it appeared as good as the outside, I was really in business with this property! When the key finally twisted and the door unlatched, I stepped inside and was instantly confused. Whipping out my phone, I looked back at the seller’s texts just to make sure I hadn’t misunderstood anything. Sure enough, the proof I’d been searching for was staring back at me on my phone screen.
This place was supposed to be fully furnished. Instead, it was completely empty? Shrugging it off for the moment, I decided to give the house a walk around. Everything was surprisingly up to date and looked to be in good working condition. Whether it really was, would be up to the home inspector though.
The light clicking of my heels on the hardwood reverberated all around the empty rooms as I roamed to and fro between each one. The kitchen was spacious, everything that a young family might be looking for - gorgeous granite countertops, a sizable pantry, double ovens, a large, stainless steel refrigerator and various other appliances. Before I got a chance to really explore the rest of the rooms though, my phone rang. It wasn’t a number I recognized, but then again, I didn’t think much of it. I was a realtor after all, I had new clients reaching out to me every day.
“Hey, this is Eleanor.” Holding the phone up to my ear, I waited to hear a response.
“Hello?” Pulling the phone away from my ear for a second, I glanced at the number and then quickly put it back up to my ear when I heard a crackle of static and then… humming?
Whoever was on the other end of the line was humming some kind of strange little song. I didn’t have time for this. I still had two other houses that needed to be shown, a box of cookies to drop off and some paperwork that had to be signed. Hanging up the phone, I shoved it into my pocket before glancing around the space one last time and leaving.
When the last paper was signed for the day, I reclined back in my office chair and looked at the clock with a breath of relief. Switching on the lamp in the office, I straightened up my desk a little bit and dumped the papers that I didn’t need into the shred box. Glancing out the window, I watched as black, fuzzy moths circled the little lanterns just outside the real estate office, all of them bathing in its warm hazy glow.
Darkness was beginning to envelop the parking lot, and it had been one heck of a busy day. One of the hardest parts of being a realtor was juggling everything. The first thing I wanted to do when I left that night was to grab some Chinese takeout, take a bubble bath and binge watch some American Horror Story.
Grabbing my blazer off of the back of my chair, I snatched my purse and headed out to my car. I was more than pleased that everything ran so smoothly, and that I was able to get everything done. My showings went great and I already had an offer on both of those houses. I was sure those deals would be closed in no time. Both couples were already pre-approved for the loan amount, and the ones that wanted the first house I showed settled on paying the closing costs. It had been a productive day. That was, until I realized that in my hurry to get everything done, I’d taken that call and forgotten to lock up the Lakins home.
The minute my car pulled into the driveway, I threw it in park and raced up to the door with the lockbox in hand. The second my eyes landed on the door though, I stopped dead in my tracks. The lockbox fell from my grasp and my hand rummaged through my purse for my taser. The door was slightly ajar, and the same humming I’d heard from that strange phone call could be heard from within the confines of the house. I really did not have time for this.
Cautiously, I used the pointed toe of my heel to slowly kick the door the rest of the way open. The humming I’d heard from before grew deathly silent. There was a strange sense of tension that seemed to be filling the air, almost like a feeling of dread.
With a quick glance behind me, I surveyed my surroundings for a moment. The sprinkler in the neighbor’s yard was still spitting water, the sound of its spray hitting the sidewalk every time it turned towards the right. The leaves on the oak tree swished and swayed as a slight breeze drifted through them, the sound unnervingly eerie. Right next to me, the little white porch swing screeched on its old rusted hinges, the sound a bit forlorn and sad? The whole atmosphere of this place had shifted since I’d seen it in the daytime. Now, it was unsettling.
When I finally turned and stepped back into the house, I couldn’t help but notice just how much it had changed. It didn’t look like a house at all. It was as if it morphed into something else entirely. My hand fumbled for the door knob, and as I did so, my heart started to race when I realized it wasn’t there. In fact, when I turned around, all evidence of a door was gone. Like it had completely vanished.
Fear began to build deep within me, taking root and spreading throughout my body until it took all I had not to panic. Something about the space was oddly familiar to me. Almost as if I’d seen it before. Except it was different? Diff...
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