Photo by Max Kleinen on Unsplash
The walls are bleeding, again. Not the typical horror haunted movie with the slow run of what is actually chocolate syrup but looks like blood on camera starting from the ceiling and dripping down the plaster in long streaks. That would be doable.
No, my haunted house gets splatter patterns in the dining room. A screech of metal and *splush* – a dozen of bright red dots, which starting running just a little where the drops were the heaviest before drying in place.
I roll my eyes. “Is it that time of month already?”
The house moans in response, the floor shivering underfoot as I set the table for dinner. A louder high-pitched scream follows and another connect-the-dots pattern appears beside the first, a little lower. A bit of a void is on the left side, as though blocked by a head and part of a shoulder.
Built in the double-oughts for an up-and-coming executive, the house witnessed the end results of the tech-bro who borrowed “just a little” money from his company’s coffers to cover things after a slow month. In the end, the embezzlement toppled into investigations when an audit showed missing millions for which the man blamed his wife “wanting good things” according to his murder-suicide note. He took out the kids first because he didn’t want to leave them orphans but was vindictive enough to make his wife watch. Bastard.
What a way to baptize a house’s first year. That sort of thing leaves an impression on brick and mortar.
“I feel you.” I said with sympathy, putting out the bowls. Tonight was going to be tomato soup with grilled cheese. Returning to the kitchen, I ignore the clinking china in the other room, She is good at avoiding breakage. Sighing, I put a lid on the pot of simmering red soup and move it off the heat. I’ll repackage it for the freezer to be eaten later, once the monthly bloodfest is done. After pulling down another pot, I go to the pantry to see what other cans are in there. Carrot soup should work. And Mercy likes it better anyway, though Wolfgang will complain before digging in.
The gunshot makes me jump, like normal, but it gave me the extra push when opening the soup can, so the lid came off cleanly for once with the can opener instead of having two small burrs opposite sides of the can which prevent the actual removal of the lid. A thud reverberates out of the dining room into the kitchen as though a heavy body just hit the floor. The soup glopping into the pot makes a similar thud.
The timbers moaned and the floor creaked as wood shifted.
I pat the counter after I add water and set the soup to heating. “It’s okay.”
And it is.
A real estate investment firm snapped up the house from the foreclosure company after the quadruple homicide plus suicide. But, surprise surprise, they couldn’t find reliable renters. The firm kept dropping the price until a single mom with two kids – plus “sure you can have pets without a deposit, it’s not like the downstairs has carpet” desperation got Prince Albert, our Siamese, Doofus, our loveable but extremely dumb lab, and Cunningham, my ex’s last purchase to try and regain Wolfgang’s favor after missing yet another track meet – without consulting either me or Wolfgang if we wanted a second dog, which we didn’t but Cunningham is a better bed partner for me than my ex ever was, even if the German shepherd hogs the covers.
I liked the price. I fell in love with the house after the first time the ex picked up the children for the weekend. She did not like him. I thought she was dramatic BEFORE. The glass paperweight didn’t actually hit him, but that is only because Mercy caught it in the baseball glove she was showing off to her dad. The squishy puddles of blood did ruin his shoes, though, and I know from experience the blood splatter does not come out of clothes, not even with iodine.
We now do the exchange at the local McDonalds like reasonable adults, and I no longer worry about him breaking in and keeping any of the threats he made during the divorce.
“I’m going to buy you.” I promise while pulling the grilled cheese from the oven. “It might take until the kids are grown, but I will find a way to buy you.”
(words 749; first published 9/29/2025)