[ WP ] You are a realtor tasked with selling an obviously haunted house .

I stood in the house going over my notes. I heard footsteps above my head, coming from the top floor. No one was on the top floor, no one was in the house but me. I sighed and put away my notes, I began to think about my morbid existence. I am a realtor and I make my living selling houses, but not normal houses, no, houses where darkness and mayhem lay. Most of the houses I sell are often the scene of some terrible crime, forbidden ritual or some old asshole who use to threaten kids to get off his lawn. I hate my job, but right now i get all I can take, these student loans are n't going to pay themselves. 
 The house I was trying to sell was owned by 10 generations of the Franklin family. The Franklins were a very affluent family who went to church, partook in the occasional bake sale, and made semi-annual sacrifices to their god and savior Ambruk. People, small animals, and garden soil went missing for over 150 years, no one could find them and no one could figure out why. That is until 6 months ago when the the Franklins were found massacred in their home by some wild beast. It was an unusual event as no one could identify the creature that presumably committed the gruesome act. The hair samples could not be matched with any earthly creature and the hair was thick and wool-like, the teeth marks resembled that of a sabre-tooth tiger, the claws were theorized to be bear-like, the hand prints were distinctly human and the creature was at least 8 ft and over 500 pounds. Weirdest thing though was the fact the damn thing ate Jim Franklin's heart with a knife and fork and used a fucking handkerchief. Imagine that for a second, laugh and then come back to the story. Police were baffled and did their best to cover up the incident. They found a random bear, killed it and claimed that the bear caused the carnage. They also falsified records and destroyed evidence. They then called me in to use my abilities of quick wit and bullshit to sell the house off and return everything back to normal. I do n't see why they just could n't condemn the house or destroy it but I guess they just figured dumb-asses would some how find it anyway, they always do. I heard a knock on the front door and went to go answer it. `` Hello there, glad you could make it.'' I said in a facade of hospitality and fake smiles. Sally and Skip Parson ( Who the fuck names their child `` Skip'' ) were the first candidates for victims of the Franklin's humble aboard. `` Hello,'' Said Sally and Skip `` This is the place?'' they asked. `` Yup, this is it.'' I responded. `` It's beautiful!'' they said. At that moment I had found the perfect idiots to take the lovecraftian palace from my cold cynical hands. `` Well, come on in and I'll show you around.'' I said eagerly. I led them to the living room where Phil Franklin, the youngest, was watching TV before his throat was removed from his body and used to make a strawberry blood shake. `` Oh my god, the living room is so spacious honey, it would be great for your super bowl parties.'' Said Sally. `` Yeah bitch, you'll have a fucking party you'll never forget...'' I thought. `` Oh, this place brings the party like it's 1999.'' I said. They both cackled like a pair of hens. Suddenly a big thump was heard on the top floor in the master bedroom over head. They were both startled but I assured them `` The house is just settling.'' We continued onward to the kitchen were Pam Franklin was making her famous award-winning meatloaf before being used to paint the walls red. `` I love the marble counter top in the center and the traditional oak wood cabinets. Oh and is that a wood fire stove!?'' She said with great excitement. `` Righty-oh, it gives the food a great unique flavor, I much prefer wood stove's myself'' I said with pretentious delight ( Disclaimer: I have never used a wooden stove. ) `` Wow, I did n't even know they still made these things.'' said Skip with naive ignorance. We continued onto the upstairs, which is where things got a bit more complicated. The Upstairs had 5 bedrooms, each one had sigils etched at the center of each bedroom, the end of the hall way and in the attic. The sigils seem to be the source for all the weird events in the house, I had no idea how the sigils worked, I was sure there were more in the house but the sigils upstairs were the only ones found because they had been activated during the Franklin massacre. As we walked upstairs I prepared for literal hell. For those not magically literate, Sigils are symbols or pictorial signatures used for magical purposes like curses, demon summoning, etc. If a sigil is n't removed properly or the person using it is n't powerful enough to control them your basically screwed. I tensed up as we slowly walked up the stairs. I showed them the master bedroom where Jim had his heart eaten. As I talked about the room in loving terms Skip suddenly noted how cold it was. `` Shit'' I thought. And no sooner did that thought pop up in my head did I notice a shadow figure standing in the corner. As I spoke of the house and it's imaginary mystique I directed the Parsons attention to the fabulous bathroom and the incredibly spacious bathtub, the figure floated behind them toward the window as I walked around the room making sure they never took their eyes off of me. I then led them to what use to be the kids room, where Kate and Randell were both decapitated. As I spoke about the wonders of raising a family a loud screech was heard in the room itself. It was like a cat organ but some how worse because it happened in the midst of me trying to get rid of this damn house. `` Wow, that was loud, and it sounded really close.'' Said Skip. `` My ears are ringing, Jesus what was that.'' said Sally. I then activated my bullshit powers `` It was probably a fox outside of the house.'' I bullshitted. `` Foxes sound like that?'' Asked Sally. `` Yup, they make really high pitched noises like a screaming woman or child.'' I said eagerly. They both bought into it like like Indiana Jones at a hat shop. Weird creaking noises and odd sounds continued as we walked around the upstairs. Just when I thought it was over, they asked a question that filled me with dread and fear, `` Can we see the basement?'' I almost shit myself in that moment. ``... sure..'' I said reluctantly. The Basement was the worst place in the house, it had no obvious sigils but it had a hole covered by a trapdoor, no one could see the bottom of this hole, there was no ladder where the hole was and it was filled with only the greatest of despair. I tensely led them to the empty confines of the basement, they noticed the trapdoor immediately. The trapdoor became the source of a sinister banging noise, accompanied by an odd hissing noise. Sally was livid `` Oh my god what is that?'' she yelled. I grabed her before she could rush at it. `` Do n't, just leave, now.'' I told her. She stared at me for a second, looked at the trapdoor and rushed back upstairs to leave. Skip looked at me and said `` How much?'' 

