I don’t know if people have noticed a similar occurrence, but everywhere I live, there is one house that I pass by (either while driving or on walks) that gives me an epic creepy vibe.
When I was a kid, it was the house at the end of my street, it had had a handful of owners, but nobody really stayed for long. It is in the midst of a swamp and backs up against a lake that is less than clean — so that may be the reason it was unpopular. On its own, it’s nothing too noteworthy; it’s a big two-story house with a walkout basement. But something about it just feels off. It has always creeped me out, and still does whenever I go for walks when visiting my parents.
When I lived in a house in college, it was a house the street just south of us. Looked like a crack house…probably was. I would run whenever I had to pass it.
We lived in an apartment complex with no nearby houses, though there was the one apartment on the other side of the complex where some creepy guy lived. He liked to stand at his balcony window and stare at the people below. So very, very, creepy.
In our new place, these is a house in the neighborhood behind us that sits in a very wooded year. The house is an old, two-story house with blueish-gray paint. It sits as a spooky little house next to all the McMansions with immaculate lawns that surround it. While the McMansions are large, hulking figures that lack souls or comfort, this smaller house has a soul — a dark, creepy, spine-chilling soul. I refuse to look at it while I go off on my wandering adventures.