House on Haunted Hill

“Welcome to this psychologically impacted house, everyone. Let’s play a game. The aim of the game is to be alive in the morning, and whoever survives come breakfast time gets the house at a ridiculous discount. It’s just like Top Chef but with fewer close-ups of melting cheese and significantly more blood sport. The house boasts two hedge mazes. One has no escape. The other one is for tea and lighthearted murder. Do I even have to say it at this point? FUN!!!”

House of 1000 Corpses

“Crazy family of inbred maniacs, am I right? Anyway, you probably noticed when we pulled up that next door is a Subway—the incredible artisan sandwich shop representing the pinnacle of customer service and flavor, not the life-saving transportation. The odor is from their chopped salads. Stop rubbing your eyes. It’s a quiet neighborhood apart from the roguish huntsman who was buried alive in the backyard and still rises out from his grave to remind everyone that death will find us all.”

The House of the Devil

“This adorable, remote mansion is conveniently located near the town’s library and is equal walking distance to the cemetery with tombstones already bearing your names and a 7-Eleven. There are occasional moans coming from the attic, but let me assure you that there is no toxic mold in the basement.”

Monster House

“I know what you’re thinking: Why this house? Why me? Well, this one’s interesting because this house has a rustic feel to it. Rustic? I mean, radioactive. It comes alive to attack people. Especially children. Very specifically: your children. Blame the bogeymen. I don’t make the rules. Henry and Emily have no chance. I’m sorry. You were such a beautiful family.”

House at the End of the Street

“’Gruesome double murder’ is an exaggeration invented by a jealous newspaper reporter who also happens to be the wife of my rival, Tim. Pay no attention. The dismemberment was bloody, sure. But so is flossing your teeth. I have it on good authority that the previous owner said ‘nothing weird ever happened here.’ Yes, I was the previous owner.”

The Last House on The Left

“This lovingly designed property is cursed. I’ve heard chainsaw noises coming from the master bedroom, so you should stick to naps. People have described stepping out of the shower and being bear-hugged by a spirit or whatever. If an apparition hugs you while you’re naked and dripping wet without your consent, I am prepared to slash the asking price. Get it? Slash. A little realtor humor. Wait until you see the outdoor swimming pool. Just be sure to stay on the marked path.”