House For Sale

So this is another Jimmie prompt that I wrote some time back, but got pushed in posting due to camp nanowrimo, and then my August event. It was based on the picture below, and once again my microfiction is horror, is it just me or does the genre call for it?


She stepped into the empty Victorian house, and remembered what Savannah had said. “Perfect restoration except the bathrooms and kitchen. Compromise is necessary for convenience.”   

It was lovely, but it felt wrong walking through alone like this. Could she really live here? It was supposed to be her sister’s fresh start.  Savannah who had lived a few hard years moved in here two months prior. It seemed like everything was looking up, and then…

She shook her head to clear it as she stepped into the kitchen and saw the bulletin board.  The movers must have missed it.   It was covered in blank post-it notes except one in the center. It said “Make things happen” in her sister’s handwriting. 

She stifled a sob as she ran her fingers over it, and as her finger brushed the next note she realized it wasn’t blank at all. 

In a flash she remembered Savie’s love of mystery novels, specifically the invisible ink.  She fumbled in her purse, hoping she still had a spare blacklight from work. She did.

She turned off the lights, and flipped on the flashlight.  The post-ts all had the same message “Help Me”. 

It was on the walls too. Dozens of different types of writing, most of which looked finger painted. Then she realized that it wasn’t paint splattered, and smeared on the walls.  The black light went dead.

She stumbled blindly to the door and flung herself out onto the porch gasping. She was selling the house.

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