“So, this is your haunted house, Peter?” Melissa shakes her head while she looks over the one-story garden home.

I say, “Look, I don’t need your commentary tonight. My whole newsroom mocks me for this assignment; they know there’s no real chance of my success here. But this is my shot, so I’m going to take it. I will find some story here to move me up in the ranks.”

Melissa walks around the car, joining me on the driver’s side. I appreciate that she stifles a laugh; though, I can’t disagree with her. This place is laughable. This house could be in any subdivision built in the last 20 years. Brick front, vinyl siding around the rest, and one tree in the front yard. The creative license needed to make this place the scene of a horror movie would be incredible.

Yet, this is supposed to be the most haunted location in town. A former owner, who was murdered with his family by Union troops, and some prostitutes from the steel era make this home uninhabitable for over a century. The stories are wild. Voices, apparitions, and all kinds of objects moving. The former owner is even credited with the suicide of a former mayor. So, I get to investigate it for my company’s Halloween coverage.

Melissa and I walk across the driveway to the front door. She says, “Not a problem, I’ve got your back. I know you’ve waited a long time for this, so let’s do it. I can’t believe we’re going to stay a month here, but at least I won’t have to worry about our internet connection.”

“Yes, dear,” I say, “you shouldn’t have any problem achieving your latest bonus. We all know that you’ve been noteworthily better at selling logistics than I have stories, but I’m going to find something here to debunk this whole thing.”

Melissa grabs my wrist before I can put the key in the lock. She says, “All right, let’s reign it in. I agreed to come out here with you. I know you’re under some pressure for this assignment, but don’t take it out on me. I’m not your challenge here. Focus on your assignment; tell me what you need, and we’ll make this happen, Peter.”

After a deep breath, I put a hand on her shoulder. “Thanks,” I say, “I appreciate you saying that. I think I’ve been set up to fail, so it’s a tough night for me. I know I’ve got a month to figure this out, but I just don’t know what I can do. You’re right though; let’s just see what happens.”

Getting In

What happens is none of the lights in the front area of the house work. After I unlock the front door, Melissa and I step into the world’s smallest foyer. A single panel with three switches is on our left, but not one of them operates a light either inside or outside the home.

Melissa cannot suppress her laugh at this point. She says with a chuckle, “This is a good touch by Renewable Rentals. Or maybe it’s the ghosts.” I can feel her add a wink to the elbow in my side.

“I suppose Renewable Rentals did set this up,” I say. “After all, they told me during a phone call that only so-called ghost hunters stay here anymore. So, I would guess they’ve added some features to enhance the legends.”

Our phones come out in the next instant with flashlights at full brightness. After only two steps, the foyer branches into a couple hallways. A side hallway leads to a couple bedrooms while the main one goes to the kitchen and living room. The light in the main hallway actually turns on, so Melissa and I turn off our phones.

Melissa observes the varying shades of off-white that cover the walls of every room. “Well, Peter, the painting certainly doesn’t lend itself to comfortable. This is patently institutional. It’d be pretty easy to get the sense of someone watching you in here.”

Before I can answer, the heater cuts on with a belabored rattle. Pops accompany every one of our steps into the kitchen. Now, it’s my turn to see the ghosts. I say, “Huh, Melissa, is it just me or does that give the distinct impression of hearing footsteps?”

Melissa walks into the kitchen with a nod. She reflexes a point to a book on the counter. “Did you see that? The book just opened by itself.”

Manufactured Haunt

Sure enough, Renewable Rentals made a guidebook for the house with history and some of the legends. They placed the book beneath a vent, and it opened to the page about the original owner who had a plantation house on the site.

I say, “You’ve got to give the property company credit; they’ve certainly exploited the situation well.”

“You’re right about that, Peter.” Melissa says, “They know what they’re doing, regardless of anything actually going on here.”

I shake my head while Melissa moves into the living room. About the time she sits down in one of the tan recliners, “Get out of here” from a deep, male voice echoes around the living room. My eyes jerk to the living room with a raised eyebrow.

Melissa’s arms spread out from her seat. She asks, “Alright, Mr. Skeptic, how do you explain that one?”

My tongue makes a few clicks as I scan the room. Outside of one of the windows, I see a neighbor sitting on his back porch. I say, “This place is even more of a joke than I imagined. My month’s assignment is going to be a bigger waste of time than the dog park story.”

Melissa smirks in my direction. She asks, “You know what your problem is?” After I throw my hands over my head, Melissa answers her own question: “You just need to have some fun with it, dude.”

An Idea – At Last

My eyes narrow at her, and I plop down on the sofa. My thoughts struggle to move past the ridiculousness of my situation. There is no fun here – only another waste of my time and skills as a reporter. Somehow, I have to get a daily video update and a full-length article written, but I can’t imagine any reader being interested in any of this – unless I show how Renewable has exploited this place.

I wag a finger at Melissa before saying, “You know what? You might be onto something there. I could alternate the videos between a scare of the day and an explanation of the day while mixing in a bit of the actual history of the house. Then, I could write an expose on Renewable Rentals exploitation.”

Melissa points at me with her whole hand and a single nod. She says, “See there: You got it. People love stories about greedy companies. I’ll get my next bonus, and you’ll make a breakthrough. Staying in this boring house still doesn’t excite me, but we’re together in this, and you’ve got a plan.”

I take a deep breath. “All because of you,” I say. “It’s like my senior project in journalism school. I had a mountain of evidence for that piece, but you convinced me to remember that people need a story around all the facts. Hopefully, this project will be as successful; thanks for being my partner in all this.”

I bounce to my feet and say, “Alright, I think I’ll get started by getting our luggage and make my first video about the lights not working.”

Melissa smiles as I walk over to her chair and give her a hug before going up the hallway to get started.

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