Ghosts Next Door

Ghosts Next Door
by Lopaka Kapanui

May 3, 2022

Waiting 2022

 It's an old house sitting empty at the end of the road just before the Wiliwilinui hiking trail.

In its day, it was a fabulous home. It was the place to see and be seen. The owners hosted many parties, galas, and cotillions, where a young woman was introduced to proper society, such as it was in the nineteen seventies Hawaii. At its height, the home had well-known celebrities, political figures, local entertainers, and the occasional underworld crime boss as its guest. However, one evening a few photographs were taken and leaked to the six 'o clock news. One showed a city representative doing a line of cocaine with the head of the refuse department. Another showed a board member of the DOE in a drunken state of undress with a handsome firefighter. Both were married to other people. The home and its hosts suddenly became like the plague, where no one of any importance wanted to be seen. The house itself was plastered all over the newspapers and the news stations. The homeowners refused to be interviewed on camera, and needless to say, they were constantly harassed. Eventually, they moved away and ended up somewhere in Las Vegas, never to be seen or heard from again. The house had occupants here and there, but no one seemed to live there for any length of time. After that, the domicile sat there, empty. It became a looming presence at the end of the street and gained a reputation that only urban legends are made of. Here's the story as it has recently come across my desk.

Wannabe paranormal investigators sneak into the abandoned home in hopes of finding a ghost or recording a disembodied voice, or at the very least a shadow moving across the room. They don't expect to see a beautiful young local girl, made up and dressed for a prom or a kind of formal. But there she is, saying the oddest thing. "There you are; I thought you wouldn't make it. Come," she reaches out, and most times, the unwitting victim, already smitten by this beautiful girl, takes her hand and follows her. " I can finally introduce you to everyone as the young man in my life."

There is no question where the girl leads this person; they simply follow. Survivors said they were led into a sunken living room laid with a red carpet. The girl introduces them to people who look very important, all dressed in formal aloha wear with pressed slacks and slicked-back hair. The women wear mu'umu'u with hair piled high like cotton candy. It is there that things turn ominous because the girl whisks them off to her bedroom, where she carefully closes the door and lays her victim on her bed. When she begins to undress, they see her flesh rotting with chunks of it falling away to the floor. Her face is also losing its beauty and being replaced by a bare skull with eyes rolling out of the sockets. The intruder, whoever they may be, is never seen again. Perhaps because they are too mortified to move from the spot. Others who experience the fight or flight syndrome have the wherewithal to flee, which is an intelligent choice. An odaisan and a kahuna once told me that the collective energy of all the nefarious deeds in that home manifested into something purely evil. "It waits," the kahuna told me. The odaisan agreed, "It waits to take more energy, more souls."

"I can't understand why the city hasn't torn it down?" The kahuna pondered.

"If what the both of you say is true, then maybe the city is using that house for that exact purpose," I offered. "Getting rid of political rivals and otherwise, but we'll never know for sure."

Credit: Matthew Meyers. Yokai.com

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