I Cleaned the Devil's House(Part 1)

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PostFri Jun 24, 2011 5:06 am » by Thebluecanary

Here's a scary ghost story for ya'll. It happened to me a long time ago. It sounds pretty unbelievable so you are completely welcome to assume that I made it up.

Years ago I was married and working 6am till 2pm at a bakery making very little money. I came home from my shift to find a note from my then husband, informing me that he had found me a gig for that afternoon doing a move-out cleaning for a real estate agent at the office where he worked. Seems that her regular cleaning lady bailed on her at the last minute, and she was now in a bind since the house was closing that following Monday and she needed it cleaned before then. She was willing to pay me 200 bucks, which made me suck up my tiredness, pack up the car with my implements of dirt destruction and head to the office to pick up the keys and the directions. My husband told me that he would come out and help me when he got off if I was still working on the place. Honestly, since it was an empty house, I figured I'd be finished before then.

It was a 60s brick ranch at the end of a quiet street in a nice neighborhood. I let myself in through the back door next to what had once been a garage and was now a closed in workshop area. The workshop was full of flies and it smelled like spoiled meat. I spotted a black plastic bag full of trash on the floor, figured that for the culprit, and carried it outside and dropped it in the big corrugated metal trashcan on the patio.

When I clean a house the first thing I do after I unload my stuff is to take a walk completely around to see what I'm dealing with. Empty houses are easier to clean than houses that have people living in them, but you'd be surprised how dirty even the cleanest house is once the furniture and knick-nacks are gone. This house, I immediately realized, was FILTHY. Not a little messy. Pathlogical. Fucking. Filth.

The walls, blinds and kitchen appliances were coated with a greasy yellow coating that I supposed was years of unadulterated cooking funk and nicotine. The hardwood floors and linoleum were caked with black grime. The oven actually looked like someone had been using it to render lard...the entire inside was thick with charred black ick. The overhead fans looked to be covered in Spanish moss. The one bathroom had a toilet that looked like some prop from a movie about a serial killer, and I was pretty sure that that was actual doody caked and smeared in between the little blue tiles of the bathroom floor.

No wonder the cleaning lady bailed. In fact, it looked like she'd bailed from the actual job site. In the back bedroom, I found her sponge, her bucket (lukewarm, but still sudsy) and a step stool kicked over on it's side. I could see that she'd started washing the wall. There was about a three foot swath of clean, robin's egg blue showing through the nicotine grime, and then a sort of trail out. Like she'd started, realized that 200 bucks wasn't enough for this level of nast, and said fuck it.

Well, she obviously didn't need the money as bad as I did. And it was dirty, but I'd seen plenty of dirty before. I worked as a maid in the last town we lived in, and I'd done my share of icky post-eviction cleanups, and even temped once with a biohazard removal company cleaning up the remnants of a melted fat dude from a hardwood floor. I was hard. I could clean this house.

First, though, I was going to go smoke a cigarette and think about cleaning the house.

I went out through the back door and propped it open with the lid of the big metal trash can so that the spoiled smell might air out a little bit. I sat down at the little picnic table out back and lit up and wondered about the life of whoever had lived in that house. People live filthy, even in the burbs. You'd probably be surprised by how nasty people can be. But this was a little above and beyond. I figured that the previous owner had probably been elderly, unable to clean up the accumulated evidence of daily living for years due to frailty or sickness. They had probably died or moved into a home, and I figured the new owners were well aware of the condition of the house when they bought it but were expecting a professional cleaning and I felt sure I'd have to deliver.

I called my husband, told him that the house was going to take longer than I figured, and that he should meet me out there after work. And bring bleach. After I hung up from talking to him I turned to watch a squirrel chasing a little bird at the edge of the yard behind me. A loud sound of grating metal made me turn, just in time to see the back door slam shut. The trash can lid had rolled away and the wind had blown the door shut.

It was locked up tight. Lucky for me, I'm smart and I remembered to put the keys in my pocket. I let myself back in and got ready to get to it. I was ready, dude. At least, I thought that I was.

(Cue Twilight Zone Theme. That's all for now kiddies. More later.)
Remember, in a real conspiracy, all players are pawns regardless of their rank.
-----Christopher Hyatt

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PostFri Jun 24, 2011 5:14 am » by Lowsix

thebluecanary wrote:I worked as a maid in the last town we lived in, and I'd done my share of icky post-eviction cleanups, and even temped once with a biohazard removal company cleaning up the remnants of a melted fat dude from a hardwood floor. I was hard. I could clean this house.

That was a fucking bad-ass paragraph.
Can't wait, I'm hooked.

warløckmitbladderinfection wrote:blasphemous new gehenna inhabitant makes god sad...

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PostFri Jun 24, 2011 5:20 am » by Quantummystic

Um wtf. dont leave us hanging.. sheesh

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PostFri Jun 24, 2011 5:27 am » by Yuya63

Well, just how long are you gonna keep me waiting? I got into it like a good book. Cant wait to read the rest. I once had a paint job in an apartment that someone blew his head off in. There were still pieces of scalp and hair on the walls and baseboard. I had to clean it all before i could paint. That was in the late 70's, but still remember it all to well. Anyhow, you got my attention, Blue.

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PostSat Oct 13, 2012 10:05 am » by Spock

Around conservatives I sound like a liberal, and around liberals I sound like a conservative.

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PostSat Oct 13, 2012 4:17 pm » by The57ironman

Collapse is a series of events that sometimes span years.
Each event increases in volatility over the last event,
but as time goes on these events tend to condition the masses.

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PostMon Oct 15, 2012 9:40 am » by Jetski

:shock: Another good story to read. :flop:

Thanks for bumping, Spock. And Ironman, thanks for providing the links to part 2 and 3. Off to read them now.. :nails:

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