A Little Death Never Killed Anyone

The Fifth

"Thanks" Hugo said to me
"Oh no problem, it's not everyday someone asks to come over to discuss a scary ass neighbor."
"The Dark Dieter house" He corrects me.
"Oh wow there's even a name for it and everything."
"I'm not telling you anything with a sass-atude like that" he pouts
"Im sorry, just tell me."
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"In the 1870s the Dieter family lived in that house. There was Mr. Dieter and Mrs. Dieter and their two daughters, Adeline and Wendy. My family has lived in my current home since it was built so according to my grandpa, they were an odd bunch especially the father. My grandpa being Adeline's age was always trying to befriend Adeline, and one day she started crying and asked for his help. He got kind of concerned and went to his parents about it. The next day Adeline told him she was kidding around and she's fine. She started to sniffle and walked back in her house. My grandpa swore he saw Mr. Dieter in the window glaring at him. My grandpa never saw much of Adeline after that." Hugo was quiet for a minute. "That's a nice and all, but some weirdo family doesn't really explain a haunting..." He looks at me "Well this is where that comes in, see my grandpa didn't know this at the time but Mr. Dieter was known for his temper and stood for no bullshit. Mrs. Dieter was a lovely lady whom Adeline adored, Mr. Dieter thought she was too nice and they bickered often. Suddenly Mrs. Dieter went missing. After that Mr.Dieter did some serious renovations. The whole town thought Mr. Dieter killed his wife, but no one wanted to say it. During the renovations the youngest Dieter child, Wendy, went missing also. This is about the time Adeline asked my grandpa for help." He pauses for a minute. "Shit really went down there... I can understand why there might be some spirits lingering in that house." I reply. "Yeah well, now kids used to dare each other to spend the night in the haunted Dieter house. They all say the same things happen." "A ritual haunting?"  I offer. "Exactly! They hear knocking on the walls and footsteps, then they hear crying and yelling. Then they get a smell of paint, wood, and faintly of blood. Others say they get stuff thrown at them. People stopped intruding on the property when a young girl about the age of eight named Emily died in the house, the police shut it down and now it rots away." A tear rolls down his cheek. How the fuck do I comfort this asshole. "Um... Hey it's not your fault or anything...so like...it's okay." I awkwardly say as I put my hand on his back. He chuckles lightly.
"I was the one who let Emily in that goddamn hell hole. I knew she could die and I let her in anyway."