The Weird Home

I remember when I first saw the house. It was a decrepit old thing, with peeling paint and broken windows. It sat on the outskirts of town, nestled deep in the woods. People had always said that it was cursed, that strange things happened there, but I had never believed them.

That was before I inherited the house from my great aunt. I had never met her before, but apparently, she had been living in the house for years, alone and reclusive. When she died, I was the only one left to inherit the property.

At first, I was excited about the idea of owning my own home. But as soon as I stepped inside, I knew something was wrong. The air was musty and thick, and there was a strange smell that permeated the entire house. It was a mix of mildew and something else, something rotten.

The first night I spent in the house was the worst. I had set up a sleeping bag in one of the upstairs bedrooms, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched. Every time I closed my eyes, I heard strange noises coming from the walls, like scratching and tapping.

The second night was even worse. I woke up to find that the door to my room had been locked from the outside. I tried to force it open, but it wouldn't budge. I was trapped.

It wasn't until the third night that I saw the thing. I had woken up in the middle of the night, and when I opened my eyes, I saw a figure standing at the foot of my bed. It was tall and thin, with long arms that reached down to its knees. Its face was twisted and grotesque, like something out of a nightmare.

I tried to scream, but no sound came out. The thing just stood there, watching me with its dark, soulless eyes. And then, as suddenly as it had appeared, it was gone.

After that, I knew I couldn't stay in the house any longer. I packed up my things and left, never looking back. But even now, years later, I can still feel the weight of the house's curse on my soul.

I've heard rumours that the house is still standing, that people still try to live there despite the stories. But I know the truth. The house is cursed, and it will never let anyone escape its grip. It's a weird, twisted place, full of horrors that no one can even begin to imagine. And I hope, for the sake of anyone who stumbles upon it, that it stays abandoned forever.

Years went by, and I tried to forget about the weird home and the horrors that lurked within. But it wasn't until one day, when I was walking through the woods, that I stumbled upon it again.

The house looked just as I remembered it, with the same peeling paint and broken windows. But there was something different about it this time. The air was no longer thick and musty, and the strange smell was gone.

Curiosity got the better of me, and I approached the house cautiously. As I stepped inside, I was shocked to find that the once-decrepit home had been completely renovated. It was now a beautiful, modern house, with all the latest amenities.

I spoke with the real estate agent who had listed the property and learned that the house had been completely remodelled and was now the home of a young family. They had no idea about the history of the house, the strange happenings, and the curse that had once plagued it.

As I left the house, I couldn't help but wonder if the curse had truly been lifted, or if the family would one day discover the horrors that lurked within. All I knew was that the weird home had once been a place of darkness and fear, but now, perhaps, it was a place of light and hope.