I was so ecstatic and proud. I got the big, classic old house at a bargain price. I couldn’t care less that some earlier owners, an older couple, died in the house, and that people claimed it was haunted. I also didn’t care that the previous owners were “highly motivated” to sell. Being a professor at the university, I didn’t believe in anything supernatural, so the haunted rumors were a bunch of crap, and didn’t bother me in the least. They accepted my lowball offer and I knew I had scored big.
A bunch of friends helped me move in the day after the closing. They also helped me get the living room organized enough that I could treat them to pizza and beer. They agreed that I had made out on the house. It had two floors plus dormers in the attic and a dirt floored basement. It pissed me off though when the box that contained my prized Chinese vase suddenly fell to the floor, causing the vase to shatter. I blamed it on a friend suggesting that he must have left it teetering on top of other boxes.
After everyone left, I dug out a box of bedlinens and prepared to spend my first night in the grand old house. Once I had my bed ready in the master bedroom upstairs, I settled into the cozy covers for the night. I had trouble falling asleep though due to being both excited and stressed from the move. There were also noises, some from the attic above and others coming from below. I got up and determined the sounds were from the pipes and maybe some mice. I also secured all the windows and doors. Eventually I fell asleep.
At maybe three o’clock or so in the morning something woke me up. Then I heard a door slam, likely the bedroom door at the other end of the hall. Soon afterwards, another one slammed, likely the bathroom door. What the fuck? Then my bedroom door slammed shut.
I became concerned, so I got out of bed. Since it was dark, I made my way to the light switch by the door, but nothing happened when I turned it on. I opened the door and found that the hallway was pitch dark too. Unfortunately, I hadn’t unpacked any flashlights and had left my cellphone downstairs. I started down the hall, feeling around for the stairway opening along the right-side wall. I tried turning on another light switch, but the stairs and ground floor stayed dark. I started down the staircase but tripped over something on one of the top steps, even though I knew I hadn’t left anything there. I screamed and started tumbling. About halfway down, the lights suddenly came on and I saw the landing approaching my face.
When I came to, I dragged myself to my phone. I ended up in the hospital with a concussion, a broken leg, and a recognition that it couldn’t have all been bad luck or coincidence. So now someone else is going to get a great deal on a nice old, haunted house.