The Haunting - Part 2

Crossing the Threshold

Fueled by eagerness and curiosity, David followed Brandi inside.

The foyer swallowed him whole, the air cool and still, carrying the faint scent of aged wood and something deeper—almost metallic. His footsteps echoed, amplifying the silence.

The house was waiting.

A magnificent staircase rose before him, twisting like an ancient vine, its polished banister gleaming despite the years of neglect. Shadows clung to the corners of the high ceiling, where intricate molding traced forgotten designs.

Brandi’s voice broke the hush.

“The place has been waiting for someone special.” She glanced at him with an almost wistful smile. “Someone who can bring it back to life.”

David’s fingers brushed the carved wooden pillar at the base of the stairs. The detail was remarkable—a twisting design, almost like roots burrowing into the house itself.

The House Speaks in Silence

They moved into the den, where Brandi pointed out the vintage fireplace.

“These tiles,” she mused, “they don’t make them like this anymore. A true piece of history.”

David crouched, running his fingers over the intricate mosaic. The craftsmanship was exquisite. He could almost picture himself here on a stormy night, a book in hand, the fire crackling…

But there was a heaviness in the room, like the walls held their breath.

Brandi led him back to the grand staircase.

“This is the heart of the home,” she said.

David placed his hand on the banister, cool and smooth beneath his fingers. He hesitated.

Something felt… different.

The Stain on the Runner

The second floor greeted them with a shift in the air—thicker, heavier.

Brandi’s steps slowed.

David followed her gaze—and stopped cold.

A dark stain spread across the runner, thick and glistening against the faded fabric. His stomach twisted.

It looked fresh.

There was a scent in the air, faint but unmistakable.

Metallic.

Brandi inhaled sharply. “I apologize for this,” she murmured, her voice tight. “This… shouldn’t be here. I’ll have someone take care of it.”

David frowned. “What could’ve caused something like that?”

She forced a smile. “Old houses have their quirks.”

Her fingers gripped the banister a little too tightly before she led him away.

The Master Bedroom and a Lingering Chill

Sunlight flooded the master bedroom, catching in the carved details of the tray ceiling. It was beautiful, elegant—even inviting.

Brandi gestured toward the large windows, her voice more confident here. “The natural light in this room is amazing. Anise would’ve loved this, wouldn’t she?”

David hesitated, the mention of his ex-wife bringing an unexpected pang of emotion.

“She always wanted a house with windows like these,” he admitted.

Brandi nodded knowingly, then gestured toward the attached bathroom.

David stepped inside. The air here felt… different. Cooler.

His skin prickled.

Shadows pooled in the corners, thick despite the narrow window filtering in the afternoon light.

He turned on the shower tap. The pipes groaned before releasing a steady stream of water, droplets catching the light.

Brandi lingered in the doorway. Her gaze flickered toward the steam rising from the glass enclosure.

Then—she stiffened.

Her breath hitched, her brow furrowing as she took a small step forward.

David noticed. “Something wrong?”

She hesitated. “No, I—”

The steam shifted.

Not dramatically—just enough. A shape flickered within the mist, there and gone in a breath.

A face? A figure?

Brandi’s pulse quickened.

She forced herself to look away, pushing down the irrational fear crawling up her spine. “These old houses play tricks on you,” she said lightly.

David chuckled. “All part of the charm, right?”

Brandi nodded, but something in her expression had changed.

Something she wasn’t ready to say.

The Scent of Lilacs

They continued the tour, passing the stained runner once more. David’s gaze lingered on it.

It almost seemed darker now, as if it had soaked deeper into the fabric.

Brandi’s cheerful commentary took on a slightly forced edge as they descended back to the foyer.

She pointed toward the kitchen, pushing forward with her usual enthusiasm. “It’s a bit dated, but the space is fantastic. You could do wonders with it.”

David nodded, though his mind drifted back to the stain upstairs.

And the chill in the bathroom.

And the way Brandi had hesitated at the shower.

He turned to her. “What about the neighbors?”

Brandi’s expression shifted just slightly. “You’ll find a balance here—privacy when you want it, community when you need it.”

She gestured out the window. “Maude lives next door. She’s been here forever, knows everything about the neighborhood. She might have some… interesting stories about this place.”

David raised an eyebrow. “Stories?”

Brandi’s smile flickered. “This house has… history. Layers. If you’re looking for a home with a past, you’ve found it.”

David’s interest deepened.

A thud echoed from upstairs.

Brandi’s posture went rigid, just for a second.

David glanced up. “What was that?”

Brandi’s smile returned too quickly. “Squirrels on the roof, most likely.”

David wasn’t convinced.

The Final Decision

Brandi led him into the sunroom, where warm sunlight spilled across the floor.

“Imagine having coffee here in the mornings,” she said, her voice a little brighter. “A peaceful way to start the day.”

David glanced toward the backyard, where the wind stirred the tall grass and crepe myrtles.

Then Brandi pointed toward the side of the house.

“There’s a crawlspace under the house—good for storage.”

David caught the slight tension in her voice.

“Crawlspace?” he echoed.

“Oh, they’re standard in old homes.” She waved a hand dismissively, but something in her expression betrayed unease.

David filed the thought away.

As they walked back toward the foyer, Brandi slowed.

“So,” she said, watching him carefully. “Are you ready to make an offer?”

David hesitated.

The house had captured him, that much was certain.

But something else lingered here, unseen.

His skin prickled again—that same whisper of a feeling.

Then, a breeze stirred.

A faint scent drifted through the air.

Lilacs.

David stiffened. It was so distinct—almost as if someone had… breathed it into his ear.

He turned to Brandi. “Did you feel that?”

Her smile faltered—just for a fraction of a second.

“Just one of the many charms of these old houses,” she said lightly.

David wasn’t sure he believed her.

Still…

He exhaled and nodded. “Yes. Let’s do it.”

Brandi’s fingers moved quickly over her phone.

“I knew this would be the one for you.”

She reached for the door, then hesitated.

“Houses like this,” she murmured, almost absently, “they’re more than just wood and stone.”

Her eyes flickered toward the stairs.

“They remember.”

With that, she was gone.

David stood alone in the hush of the house.

And the house, patient and waiting, seemed to hold its breath.