What’s in the Attic?
I was originally going to take the loft/master bedroom in what appeared to be the remnants of the attic. However, there was an awkwardly placed vintage/spooky sink and a secret passageway leading to the “rest’ of the attic – which looked more like a place to store bodies. The dark wood that lined the walls christened the eerie feeling that the spooky sink and secret passageway were already emitting. There was no way in h-e-double hockey sticks I could sleep in that room. God only knows on a full moon what goes on in there. So no, I took my chances on the bottom floor.

The Keebler Elves
The bottom floor was very pleasant during the day as the light escaping through the trees glistened on the hardwood floor. And I like hardwood floors usually – since they are attractive and convenient — but when I discovered that those hardwood floors easily opened upward to expose the evil underbelly of the house, I was more concerned with the person(s) or thing(s), in addition to myself, that might find conveniences with such a floor. My friends were convinced that something resembling the Keebler elves kept itself busy by making cookies under the floor boards.

To make it more interesting there were also three uncovered air vents that looked more like booby traps on the bottom floor. I happily covered the vents and thought everything was cool until suddenly one night, all at once, the walls of the house seemed to bend… and the house seemed to be saying: get out… Get out!

Of course, I went out for a jog…

The Wrath of Mr. Grumpy
The next night as I was typing away on my laptop in the kitchen I was greeted by a belligerent Mr. Grumpy, who judging by the smell of his breath was under the influence. He muttered some nonsense to me, which I didn’t understand. I asked him what he meant, and he got angry; he even took off his shirt as if to threaten me. I really didn’t know what was going on, but I knew that Mr. Grumpy was upset that I was living there while he had to move out. I didn’t let the situation escalate; I defused him, and excused myself.

In the morning, I went to talk to the owner of the house (who lived only a few blocks away) and told him what happened. He eventually disclosed to me that he was going to sell the house, and that he had been renting it out while he had been fixing it up. I was irate.

Maybe it was the Keebler elf, the creeping walls or the crazy Mr. Grumpy, but the whole situation seemed like the culmination of a real-life horror story. As the owner apologized, he conceded to let me leave the house with a full refund of my deposit and month’s rent.

“Hell, yes”, I thought to myself. I am out of here!

Cont’d: Which Way to the Exit? »