Rhed and Valley Dean were looking for a nice home to raise a family. They looked and looked until they found a gorgeous, black and white mansion, with a broken down, white picket fence. The house clearly needed work, but the Deans were set to clean it up. After all, the real estate agent was only asking two hundred thousand, with a down payment of five thousand per month. What kind of deal was that? Of course, little did they know, the mansion was haunted. Sheila, the real estate agent, knew that. That was the reason. Right there. Sheila actually had a daughter who lived there and strange things happened to her, before her death. Yes, she came into that house in 2005 and never came out. It was now 2018. Three years of planned vengeance and no one to seek. It was finally time for someone to pay... Unfortunately it had to be the Deans.
The inside of the house was even more beautiful than the outside. It was brilliantly decorated, everything was in its place, and on top of all everything looked brand new, as if nobody ever lived there before. "New furniture?" Valley asked Sheila. "Why, yes, Mrs. Dean. Dollhouse Realty pays for everything! You just have to pay for your expenses.” Valley didn't seem to convinced. But she thought hell, it's worth a shot. After all, what is there to lose? So the Deans did it; they bought the house.
"Okay, for starters we need to think of a color. What do you think, Rhed: Blue? Periwinkle? What about yellow? Or even-" "Val!" Rhed interrupted, "enough. Don't you think this is just a little crazy? We can't ignore the fact that she sold this house for that cheap." "So what are you implying, Rhed? That this house is a bad idea? Because if you remember correctly, you wanted it. Not me..." Valley said. "You need a job. We need a job. Let's get this place cleaned up..." Rhed had ignored Valley like she was some sort of walking and talking mannequin. He always did, though. It was like they weren't even married sometimes. Oh, she felt so loved by him... Not.
Searching for a job, Valley walks through the doors of 'Newborough News', which Newborough was the city they lived in. Such a fucking ghost town, but whatever. She asked the front if they were hiring. He simply asked back, "hey, you from that new house? I seen that same old car at the Needham Mansion." "Um, Needham Mansion?" Valley asked. "You don't know?" He asked. "No," She said, "pray tell." He stared into her eyes and explained, "well, tales be told that a 21 year old woman named Tilda Wilkinson moved in on January 21st of 2001. She died on October the 8th of 2005. Police investigators found her deceased body in her bathtub. She was chopped up and sliced into pieces. They also found, in her bedroom walk-in closet, three dead bodies, also chopped up and sliced..." He said, looking around. "What the fuck... Are you some kind of psycho or something!? You really think that'd change my mind about moving here? Is that why the house is so cheap? Because people like you. That's it. You crazies, trying to run us normal people out of town... Well I'm not giving it one second thought. Goodbye!" Valley yelled, as she slammed the door.
Sitting in a room with a newspaper, Rhed saw Valley walk in. "Hey, find a job yet? I've been looking all day and nobody is hiring. But these newspaper ads are insane!" Valley looked at Rhed and slumped in an armchair across from him. "Val, penny for your thoughts?" Rhed asked. "Oh, nothing," Valley sighed. "Just heard some bullshit story about this house today; apparently there was this young woman who died here... Blah, blah, fucking blah..." Valley started to deadpan. "Wait-I want to hear it. What about this house?" Rhed asked Valley. "Well, I guess this house was called the Needham Mansion, don't know why. But here's the story, this-" Suddenly she stopped by both of them being startled by a bang in the master bedroom. They both looked in and found nothing.
That night, while Valley was sleeping, Rhed was awake and reading a book. He noticed a dark shadow walking across the room and unto the closet. He looked inside the closet and saw a huge pool of blood on the linoleum floor of the closet. He looked up and saw the words "RUN" All written in capital letters and in blood, with blood streamed across the wall, as if someone ran their fingers through it. He immediately woke Valley up. "Valley, wake up, wake up! He yelled, shaking her vigorously. " What is so goddamn important you have to disturb my slumber for? It better be a good reason." Valley yawned, irritated. "Look! In the closet!" He yelled, freaked out. Valley, then, looked inside the walk-in closet. Yes, the same walk-in closet that the supposed deceased bodies were found in. "Oh... My... God... We have got to get outta here!" Valley yelled, suddenly panicked. Then, all the doors started shaking and lock up. All the chandeliers collapsed. Every inanimate object in the house was thrown around; glasses breaking from afar. They were screwed. And the worst part was that Valley could've avoided it just by listening to the man at the desk.
"Slaughter my daughter... Slaughter my daughter.. Slaughter my daughter..."
The chant went on. It sounded much like Tilda Wilkinson. Valley and Rhed followed the voice. It lead them to the bathroom. They found her in the bathtub, chanting. The entire bathroom was filled with streaks of blood and the bathtub was filled with a pool of a mixture of blood and filth. Tilda was cut up, just like the man said.
"Welcome to my world. Welcome... Welcome... Welcome..." She kept laughing in a crooked, demonic voice.
"Tilda...?" Valley asked. Suddenly Tilda got quiet and just grinned and her head turned around and around again. "Shit, Val. Why you gotta say her-" Then Tilda screamed out dark vomit all over them and the room. It was sticky and smelly. It was the most disgusting smell anyone could ever imagine. Kind of smelled like Rotten eggs that have been sitting in a tanning bed for three weeks covered in dog piss.
"You're not alone anymore..." Tilda smiled. She then raised her arms up and a bunch of deadly demons rose from the ground. "These are my friends, you see. They just want to be friends with me. And they want to be friends with you. Soon, you'll be joining us too," She laughed. They tried to run, but the vomit stuck to them, like some freaky monster tar. "Please, Tilda. Let us go. Just... Just tell us what you want..." Valley pleaded. "I want you to know what happened to me..." Tilda said. "What happened??? Please, tell us!" Valley pleaded, again. "Mmm, mmm, mmm," She started humming as she picked up Valley's brush and started brushing her hair. "Little ones to him belong..." Then everything is quiet. For about 7 seconds. "YOU ARE WEAK, BUT I AM STRONG!" A satanic male voice screamed out of her, sounding like ghostly possession. And she looked in and pointed to the mirror.
Suddenly, the mirror opened up a portal, showing Tilda Wilkinson's past...
Flashing back to the day Tilda was killed, Sheila's husband, Frankie Needham, was sitting in the same exact armchair Valley was sitting in that day; with a knife in one hand and hacksaw in the other. Tilda was casually taking a bath and Sheila walked in. "I've been waiting for you, my dear. Waiting for so long..." He cried, still sitting down. "Frankie, what are you doing...? Put.. Down... The saw. Slowly... Please..." Sheila asked. "Hmm, what about the knife?" He laughed. Frankie headed upstairs to the master bathroom. "What are you going to do? Our daughter is taking a bath in there. Don't go in there! Don't hurt our daughter, please, Frankie. You can hurt me all you want, but-" Then he slammed the door open with his bare foot. Tilda had headphones in and was sleeping in the tub. She had woken up, strangled by her own father. He cut her to pieces, one by one. "You slaughtered our daughter!!! You slaughtered our daughter!" All that was left of her was her chopped up body and a doll, lying beside her in the bathtub...