The real estate agent smiled at the pondering phantasm. She took a few notes as it floated up and down, studying the decrepit house’s inner mold and obvious rot. “How long has it been abandoned?” the undead monster asked as it studied outdated writing and rusted pipes.
“Forty years this month. We have been holding it open to let in the elements and it has just passed inspection for hauntings.”
“How are the local cemeteries?”
“Corrupted Shadowpine to the east was founded in 1814 and is home to a delightful coupling of animated shadows. They’ll welcome you to the neighborhood during the first full moon. On the west, about four miles down yonder, are a candle of zombies. Quiet and keep to themselves, they run a small poison ivy co-op,” the agent answered. “Goes fantastic with black lemonade,” she added. Drusilla is the top agent at Black Heart Realty because she knows every haunted corner of the community.
“The price is a bit high,” the phantom paused, “but it is perfect. Let’s do it. I’ll take it, lets make an offer.”
“You’ve made the right choice,” Drusilla smiled. “We’ll put in for a bit below the asking price and negotiate as needed. You’re going to be very happy here.”