A Pretty Bleak Future:

The house might have some new victims. A real estate agent unlocked China House’s doors. Her clients, a young couple, held hands with bated breath. The neighbors watched from their houses, praying that they wouldn’t buy the house.

“We can’t have any more blood on our hands,” they said to themselves. They watched as the real estate agent opened the front door.

“This is the oldest house in the neighborhood,” she began. “You will never see another one like it in these parts.” The young man nodded in approval.

“It’s kind of creepy,” his pregnant wife commented. He put his arm around her shoulders.

“Aw, I think it looks great,” he said. “It adds a nice touch of history to the place.”

“Oh, you’re a history fanatic?” the agent asked.

“That’s right,” the husband bragged. “I have my bachelor’s in the subject itself.”

“He’s trying to go into grad school now,” his wife added.

“That’s good to hear,” the agent said. “Shall we go inside?”

“Yes, please!” the husband said. He took his wife by the hand and followed the agent into the beautiful death trap. The tour started out benignly enough. The realtor flipped on the light switch.

“My company’s been giving its all to restore this house to its former glory,” she informed the couple. The husband looked around at the painted ceiling.

“I love the theme of this living room,” he said. “I can almost hear the pastime of a lazy summer in the 1700’s.” His wife opened her mouth to speak, but she froze when she herself heard a voice over to her left. She looked over, but no one was there.

“Is something the matter, dear?” her husband asked. She turned her head, shaking it.

“It’s nothing,” the wife answered. “I just thought I heard someone whispering.” The realtor froze at her statement. The young man rubbed on his wife’s shoulder.

“Aw, that’s just the sounds of home greeting us for the first time,” he said. The realtor tried to relax when he said that. The wife shook her head.

“That’s not it,” she said. “It sounded more sinister.” The realtor clapped her hands together.

“Alright!” she cut in. “Shall we look at the rest of the house?”

“Yes,” the husband answered. His wife looked over her shoulder as he led her further into China House. The whispers that she heard gave her a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. She put her hand on her five-month belly. Her husband pulled her closer to his side.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “It’s just a house, the stories aren’t real.” Her gut instinct wouldn’t let her believe it. During the whole time, the realtor prayed that she would finally make a sell with this house.

Once they cleared the first floor, the realtor led the couple up the stairs. By this time, the wife’s nerves wouldn’t settle down. Her husband was too engrossed in the history to take full notice. The young mother-to-be closed her fists at her sides. I just want to go home, she thought. What really done her fears into her was when she walked further up the stairs.

When she took one more step up, the wife felt a sharp pain stab her in the abdomen. She sank down, gasping in pain. Her husband whipped around.

“Dear?” he asked. “Dear, what’s wrong?”

“They’re killing our baby!” she screamed. “They’re killing our baby! Make them stop!”

“What are you talking about?” her husband asked. The realtor backed up the stairs with the color draining from her face. The young man reached for his wife.

“Dear?” he asked. “Dear?”

“Don’t touch me!” she cried. The wife rose to her feet and ran down the stairs. She didn’t even hear her husband or the realtor calling out to her.

“Dear?” the young man asked before running after her.

“Wait!” the realtor shouted. “We still have to tour the rest of the house!” The door slamming shut told her that that wasn’t going to be a possibility today.

The wife ran all the way to the street. Her husband managed to catch up with her once she stopped. He grabbed her on the shoulder.

“Honey, what’s the matter?” he asked. The young pregnant woman turned around with wide eyes.

“That’s strange,” she said. “The pain is gone.” Her husband raised an eyebrow at her.

“What happened to you back there?” he asked. She grabbed him by the shoulders.

“Baby, we mustn’t buy this house!” the young mother cried.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Couldn’t you feel it?”

The young man shook his head. “Honey, I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“That house is evil!”

“What are you talking about? Are you feeling okay, honey?” He about leapt out of his grasp when she grabbed him by the shoulders. “Baby?”

“We can’t buy this house!” his wife screamed. “I don’t care if we end up looking for a whole year for a new home! We just can’t buy China House!” The young man drew his mouth closed when he saw the desperate look in her eyes.

“Alright,” he said. “We’ll keep looking.” His wife sighed in relief.

“Can we just go now?” she asked in a soft voice. As the young couple left that neighborhood, they were lucky to escape with their lives. To this day, China House stands alone and decaying at end of the street. How long will that long? How before it claims another victim? How long before the house meets it end? The only thing that the neighbors know that the best thing to do for China House is to leave it alone where it stands in its slowly dying state.