Dear Barry: You never do columns that recognize holidays. Even at Christmas time and the Fourth of July, your articles are always about property defects, real estate disclosure, and home inspections. Now that Halloween is here, how about a spooky house story. Something in keeping with the season. Surely you’ve inspected a few creaky old houses. How about it? –Bram

Dear Bram: Home inspections tend to be business-as-usual events: checking the foundations, roofing, plumbing, electrical wiring, etc.

But there was one inspection that I recall with dread and discomfort; an inspection where property defects ceased to be of concern, where routine was overshadowed by fear, where disclosures were eclipsed by a frenzied struggle to flee the premises.

And it just so happened that this inspection occurred on the eve of Halloween.

Dear Barry: You never do columns that recognize holidays. Even at Christmas time and the Fourth of July, your articles are always about property defects, real estate disclosure, and home inspections. Now that Halloween is here, how about a spooky house story. Something in keeping with the season. Surely you’ve inspected a few creaky old houses. How about it? –Bram

Dear Bram: Home inspections tend to be business-as-usual events: checking the foundations, roofing, plumbing, electrical wiring, etc.

But there was one inspection that I recall with dread and discomfort; an inspection where property defects ceased to be of concern, where routine was overshadowed by fear, where disclosures were eclipsed by a frenzied struggle to flee the premises.

And it just so happened that this inspection occurred on the eve of Halloween.

The house was an old, neglected, two-story Victorian, with leaning fences, tangled vegetation, and dense vines engulfing the walls, windows and roof. The property, in escrow as a probate sale, had been the subject of headlines when the owner was found hanging from the rafters of the foyer.

The police investigation had not determined whether death was from suicide or foul play, and the body’s subsequent disappearance from the local mortuary had unsettled the community.

The buyers and agent were unable to attend the inspection, but the agent had left a key under the mat. Bracing myself, I pressed open the massive door, entered slowly, and commenced what I had hoped would be a routine inspection.

But then, beneath the lofty ceiling of the dark interior, I beheld the silhouette of the noosed rope, still attached to a high, dusty beam. A foul odor of decay permeated the stagnant air, and I recalled reading that the man had spent many days at the end of that rope before the neighbors had found him.

The prospect of working alone in those dim, silent rooms unsettled me, and my foremost thought was to complete the job and get out of that ominous place.

A steep stairway descended to the unpaved basement, where I proceeded to inspect the old stone foundations, but the sounds of creaking timbers echoed throughout the building, disrupting my attention.

So I busied myself and tried to dismiss my uneasiness. But then there seemed to be a different sound, somewhere upstairs. At first, it blended with the incessant creaking of the structure, but the difference was unmistakable.

This was not the sound of timbers. It was the slow but steady cadence of footsteps. Someone was in the house. Hoping to hear the voice of the real estate agent, I called out, "Hello, is someone upstairs?"

No one answered, but the footsteps continued down the hallway and stopped at the dark entrance to the basement stairwell. I called again, "Hello, who’s there?" Again, no answer. Then, a shadow appeared on the stairs and moved slowly, silently downward.

A dark, disfigured form gradually took shape, the head laid awkwardly against the left shoulder. Yet my attention was drawn from this to some shadowy, indistinct object that dangled from his left hand.

As he reached the basement floor, a putrid foulness filled the room, so that breathing became forced and repugnant. Gripped with horror and disbelief, I was unable to move.

But then, the eyes of that disjointed head found me, the lips formed a sardonic grin, dripping with thick gray saliva, and my mobility was wakened by a wave of terror.

Clawing my way up the basement wall, I squeezed into the narrow space between the ground and the floor framing, seeking desperately for any way of escape. But the advancing form appeared atop the foundation wall and steadily pursued me into the dark crawlspace.

Scrambling breathlessly past rows of old piers, I reached a dead-end corner where the foundation walls joined, and I realized with desperate finality that I could flee no further.

Somewhere in the nearby darkness I could hear that half-dead form crawling toward me. Clutching at my flashlight, I found the switch and was startled by the impending nearness of the face: the glare of cold eyes, the glint of gray teeth, the viscous fluid that dripped from grimacing lips — and that mysterious object gripped in his left hand.

Terror pounded in my chest as I faced those final, hopeless, remaining seconds. The feet between us became inches. His right hand gripped my ankle with frightful force as he drew forward.

Then his left hand extended the old gunny sack that he held, and the acrid smell of cold breath filled my face, as he cried, "Trick or treat!"

Happy Halloween.

Show Comments Hide Comments
Sign up for Inman’s Morning Headlines
What you need to know to start your day with all the latest industry developments
By submitting your email address, you agree to receive marketing emails from Inman.
Success!
Thank you for subscribing to Morning Headlines.
Back to top
Only 3 days left to register for Inman Connect Las Vegas before prices go up! Don't miss the premier event for real estate pros.Register Now ×
Limited Time Offer: Get 1 year of Inman Select for $199SUBSCRIBE×
Log in
If you created your account with Google or Facebook
Don't have an account?
Forgot your password?
No Problem

Simply enter the email address you used to create your account and click "Reset Password". You will receive additional instructions via email.

Forgot your username? If so please contact customer support at (510) 658-9252

Password Reset Confirmation

Password Reset Instructions have been sent to

Subscribe to The Weekender
Get the week's leading headlines delivered straight to your inbox.
Top headlines from around the real estate industry. Breaking news as it happens.
15 stories covering tech, special reports, video and opinion.
Unique features from hacker profiles to portal watch and video interviews.
Unique features from hacker profiles to portal watch and video interviews.
It looks like you’re already a Select Member!
To subscribe to exclusive newsletters, visit your email preferences in the account settings.
Up-to-the-minute news and interviews in your inbox, ticket discounts for Inman events and more
1-Step CheckoutPay with a credit card
By continuing, you agree to Inman’s Terms of Use and Privacy Policy.

You will be charged . Your subscription will automatically renew for on . For more details on our payment terms and how to cancel, click here.

Interested in a group subscription?
Finish setting up your subscription
×