It was another normal cursed afternoon at Ramelan House.
Lady Eugenia was teaching Mr. Floofers how to waltz.
Ba'zaroth was trying to microwave a burrito with dark magic. (Again.)
DJ Deadbeat was livestreaming himself building a haunted IKEA chair.
Tia was napping peacefully on the couch when—
DING-DONG.
She jolted upright, flailing like a startled jellyfish.
The doorbell echoed again.
Ba'zaroth peered through the blinds.
"...It's a realtor," he said in horror.
"A what?" Tia croaked.
"A man in a nasty beige suit. Holding a clipboard. Smiling WAY too much."
Tia felt immediate danger.
Because nobody smiled that much unless they were about to destroy your soul — or sell you a pyramid scheme.
They opened the door cautiously.
The man beamed at them.
He was shiny.
Too shiny.
Slick hair.Blinding white teeth.A nametag that said:
"Hi! I'm BRANDON! :)'YOUR FOREVER HOME' Realty!"
Tia squinted suspiciously.
"Uh... hi?"
Brandon's smile widened creepily.
"HELLO, NEIGHBORS!What a LOVELY old property you have here!FULL of charm!SO much... history!"
His eyes gleamed like he knew every dark secret buried in their backyard.
Tia stepped protectively in front of Ba'zaroth, who looked five seconds away from incinerating the dude.
"What do you want?" she asked tightly.
Brandon chuckled.
"Ohhh, nothing big!Just... offering you a LIFE-CHANGING OPPORTUNITY!A cash offer for your delightful little house!"
He whipped out a glowing contract.
It was written on what suspiciously looked like human skin.
Lady Eugenia floated closer, peering at it.
"...Is that blood ink?"
Brandon smiled even harder.
"Organic ink! Very trendy!"
Deadbeat pulled Tia aside and whispered, "This guy's giving me Flesh Merchant vibes."
Tia agreed.
Big "sells haunted mansions to vampires" energy.
Brandon kept talking.
"Imagine it — moving to a NEW, fresh, UN-cursed property!No midnight ghost raves!No surprise portals to the nether realms!No suspicious smells from the walls!"
Ba'zaroth growled low in his throat.
"I like the suspicious smells."
Mr. Floofers (still a bit see-through from last chapter) phased through Brandon's leg and hissed.
Brandon didn't even flinch.
Instead, he reached into his shiny briefcase.
"To sweeten the deal... I'm authorized to offer you..."
He dramatically pulled out a MYSTICAL KEY.
It glowed faintly blue.
"This key opens a NEW house! Custom-tailored to your deepest desires!"
Tia stared at him.
Hard.
"Custom-tailored... like... built to match your soul?"
"Exactly!" Brandon chirped.
Lady Eugenia gasped.
"That's old forbidden magic. Housebinding."
Ellis, appearing from the kitchen with a half-eaten sandwich, muttered, "Housebinding is illegal in seventeen dimensions."
Ba'zaroth crossed his arms.
"It's literally how cursed castles are born."
Deadbeat whispered, "You sell your soul... but in, like, an open house way."
Tia took a deep breath.
"No offense, Brandon," she said sweetly. "But we're gonna pass."
Brandon's smile twitched.
Just a little.
"Are you... sure?" he said in a voice that oozed syrup and nails.
"We're sure," Tia said firmly.
Brandon's eye twitched.
The air around him shimmered.
For a split second, Tia saw something underneath the slick human skin:
Glowing black veins.Eyes like voids.Teeth too sharp.
Definitely not human.
Brandon recovered instantly, smoothing his hair.
"Well! That's disappointing.But remember:I always leave a business card!"
He handed Tia a slim black card that buzzed unpleasantly in her hand.
Then he bowed — deeply, mechanically — and walked off down the driveway, whistling a tune that made Tia's hair stand on end.
They watched until he vanished into thin air.
Silence.
Mr. Floofers coughed up a tiny ghost hairball.
Deadbeat broke it first.
"...So that dude was 100% a soul broker, right?"
"Yup," Ba'zaroth grunted.
Lady Eugenia nodded gravely.
"Probably works for the Real Estate Underworld.Rumor says they buy old haunted houses and turn them into luxury ghost condos."
Tia stared at the black card in her hand.
The letters rearranged themselves when she blinked.
Sometimes they spelled "Forever Home Realty."Other times, they spelled "RUN."
They gathered in the living room, battle planning.
Ba'zaroth drew a pentagram.
Deadbeat polished his ghost axe.
Lady Eugenia floated dramatically in her Victorian nightgown.
Mr. Floofers sharpened his tiny murder mittens.
Tia paced.
"Okay.This isn't just about us anymore," she said.
"If shady realtors are sniffing around, it means Ramelan House has power they want."
Ellis nodded.
"The walls hum at night.The basement shifts dimensions sometimes.Even the mailbox tried to bite me last week."
Tia slammed her hand on the table.
"We have to protect this place."
Everyone roared in agreement.
THEIR MISSION: DEFEND RAMELAN HOUSE.
Starting tomorrow:
Strengthen magical wards.
Set ghost traps around the perimeter.
Bake a "stay away" pie for passive-aggressive neighbor diplomacy.
Start "accidentally" haunting any realtors who come too close.
Ba'zaroth also suggested "sacrificing a pumpkin in the backyard," but everyone voted him down.
(Sad Ba'zaroth noises.)
That night, as Tia sat on the porch, drinking ghost cocoa, she stared at the stars.
Some twinkled.
Some... blinked back.
She shivered.
Things were changing.
Big things.
But deep down, she knew:
Whatever darkness came knocking next...
She and her crazy, haunted, found family would be ready.
Ramelan House wasn't just a building.
It was home.
It was theirs.
And no soulbroker, no cursed contract, no cosmic real estate agent from hell was going to take it away.