Old Space.

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"Yes mother I know." Sera spoke into the speaker of her phone, the elder woman on the other end of the phone muttered something before the line went dead.

The realtor looked at Sera with a raised brow. Sera chuckled, shoving her hands into the pockets of her blue jeans. "Did you need something, Bell? I thought I signed everything." Sera asked, huffing a strand of curly brown hair out of her face.

"Ah, I just need one more thing and you'll be rid of me. Promise." The southern woman said, pulling out a document and a pen.

"What's this?" Sera asked, peering down at the paper.

"Though the property is a beauty in her own right, I am legally obligated to tell you there was deaths in the house and you're the only one to own it since 1936, which is when the original owner was killed in the woods surrounding the property." Bell said nervously, looking over her shoulder like she was being hunted.

Sera raised an eyebrow once more.

"You're kidding?" She asked, clicking the pen.

"I'm not. Ever heard of the Louisiana Radio Hunter?" Bell asked.

Sera shrugged. "Thought it was just a tall tale mother's told children to keep them outta the woods." She spoke while singing her name.

"Well, he was real. And he was the original owner of this property and the woods surrounding it." Bell stated.

"So do I own the woods now too or are they public property?" Sera asked.

"You own them, the city officials haven't wanted anything to do with it since the incidents." Bell said with a shrug.

"It's been almost a hundred years, though." Sera tilted her head.

"Woods are a bad omen, y'know how New Orleans is Sera." Bell said, side-eying Sera's rune stones that she hadn't yet placed on alters.

Sera side-stepped and stood between the blonde and the stones. "Leave my religious beliefs out of it, Isabel." The brunette huffed, crossing her tattooed arms.

Bell raised her hands defensively and backed away a small bit. "Okay, okay, the house and land is yours. Just be careful, yeah?" Bell asked, recieving a gruff nod from Sera before she escorted the blonde to the door.

"Now, if you need anything else, call before stopping by." Sera calmly demanded.

Bell nodded stiffly as she stepped through the threshold to leave the house. "Trust me, I don't love comin' here." She huffed.

"Good, have a nice day Bell." And with that, the door was shut.

And locked.

-♡

Sera grunted as she lifted a box and carried it into the kitchen. Everything was almost completely unpacked, just a few small things before she could arrange miscellaneous items in the attic.

Sera couldn't get over the feeling she was being watched, but brushed it off as her instincts being spooked by Bell telling her about the deaths on the property.

"Pussy." She huffed with a laugh, shaking her head as she arranged her plates neatly in the cupboards.

Once that was done she decided to head into the basement and see what all was inside. She tossed on her clunky black boots before unlatching the old rusted lock on the white wooden door, letting it swing open and reveal a dark concrete staircase that lead deeper into the foundation of the home.

A cold breeze circulated from the freshly opened door, and Sera flicked on the light before beginning to descend.

She stood at the bottom of the staircase, taking in the inside before the scent really hit her.

"Sweet love of Hera- yep. Belonged to a killer." She cursed, pinching her nose. Her eyes drifted to a large set of tables in the center, brown stains on the concrete underneath.

"Why didn't the police take this shit..?" She pondered aloud.

The sensation of being watched was more intense in the cold of the basement, Sera's senses beginning to alert her to potential danger.

She shook it off and stepped closer, her boot making contact with the brown stain on the floor.

Two of the tables had indents of bodies on them, obviously from wear and tear and being used multiple times. Holes and scrapes lined them as well, probably from knives and bullets.

She sighed and shook her head, small smile pulling at her black painted lips.

-♡

720 words.

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