Being an agent for Santa Monica isn’t always sunshine and ‘ritas on the beach. Sometimes we run into some homes that offer more than just walk-in closets. Check out a few of our agents’ “spooky” house stories. Names have been removed to protect the innocent.
-Nope, F*** This;
“There was this one house that had a great location, was two stories, kind of secluded, and was just a very nice property overall. I walk into the place to check it out and it just had a terrible vibe. It felt very dark on the inside and I felt sick. I felt like I had just walked out on a stage with millions of people watching me. The whole time I was there, I just wanted to get out as soon as I could. I continued to look around the place and it seemed quite old, but it was still a very nice house. I went upstairs to check it out and it just felt even more intense. It was an extremely hot day, and the place didn’t have air conditioning, but I felt cold in the master bedroom. I walked back out into the main room upstairs and saw something black dart out of the corner of my eye and I was like “nope f*** this” and I left.”
-The Eternal Bachelor;
Not to long ago I was hired by the family member of a recently deceased widower. From the look of the place it became evident that the late gentlemen had many years to acclimate to his bachelor status and clearly, he did so enthusiastically. As agents, we are adamant about making sure the toilet seats are down whenever we do a showing or open house. By the time it was sold there had been multiple reports from my assistant and partners of the toilet seats being up every time we visited the property, even though no one outside of the office had been there! Could it have been the eternal bachelor?
-Serial Killer House;
“A long time ago I was dealing with a very old Cape Cod style house that needed some work. It had a unique layout where each room connected to the next like a maze.
Upon entering the house, it felt very VERY uncomfortable and the air was dense.
The second floor was especially strange. The floor was a collection of cheap children’s gym mats and random carpet pieces and rugs stapled to the wood floors in utter chaos. There were crude drawings and paintings of a 1930s Mickey mouse and elephants, everything there was just creepy.
The basement was the worst. The stairs to the basement extended down below a level of dirt under the stairs– literal earth. You couldn’t tell how deep back under the stairs went because of the darkness. The ground I stood on, once off the stairs, was below this dirt floor. So the earth level was about mid chest high. In this weird basement there were two residential refrigerators and one industrial one. There was also a steel work bench with knives.
The basement felt like I was surrounded by a thousand bodyless eyes staring at me.
I now call that house the “serial killer house.”
“I had a few odd occurrences that couldn’t be explained easily:
When I was alone in one of my listings, I once heard heavy footsteps walking around the house, only to have them stop at the door of the room I was in and then it went dead silent.
In a beautiful old Spanish we were renovating, I had neighbors tell me they saw a small boy walking in and out of a particular bedroom at night.
Another house we were updating, our repair crew told me they saw an old man wandering around the house. Thinking it was a nosey neighbor, they would go looking for the man to tell him to leave, but he was nowhere to be found. He didn’t even show up on the security cameras.”
-The Case Of The Demonic Garage;
We were representing the seller of a multi-unit, tenant-occupied property, when we got a rather odd response while trying to set up inspections. One of the tenants was strangely insistent that no one should enter the garage because of what he referred to as a “demonic presence”. He said he heard it making all kinds of non-human noises and loud banging from the garage. We scheduled the inspection but when we arrived the tenant was more adamant than ever about no one going in there. It was hard to ignore the subtle smell of tequila in the air during the interaction. We of course moved forward with the inspection- because it had to be done. Come to find out the “demonic presence” was actually a family of racoons living in the garage attic that were making all the “demonic” racket.