My New Home's Uninvited Guests

Brazzers

Billy Glide, Jennifer Dark Pic(s)

The first night in our century-old Victorian, I was jolted awake by a sound like a dozen marbles rolling across the attic floor. Investigating with a trembling flashlight, I saw nothing but dust motes dancing in the beam, yet the air felt thick with a watchful presence. A few nights later, the distinct, rhythmic squeak of a rocking chair began its nightly vigil from the master bedroom, a room we never used. My rational mind searched for explanations, blaming the house’s settling bones or the ancient plumbing, but the fear was a cold stone in my gut. Then, one evening, I saw him clearly in the hallway’s gloom—a tall, gaunt silhouette I’ve since named Billy Glide for his unnervingly smooth, silent movement. He would simply appear, a shadow detaching from deeper shadows, only to vanish when I dared to blink. The oppressive atmosphere he brought was nothing, however, compared to the chilling arrival of the second presence, Jennifer Dark. She never showed herself fully, preferring to linger just at the edge of my vision, a wisp of black taffeta and a scent of faded roses. Her specialty was a soft, sibilant whispering that seemed to coil directly into my ear, speaking words just below the threshold of comprehension. These two spectral roommates, Billy with his silent patrols and Jennifer with her haunting murmurs, have fundamentally changed the meaning of home for me. Our beautiful new house is no longer a sanctuary, but a stage for their perpetual, unsettling performance.