A spooky story about an old house:
The last owner left without taking her plants.
That should’ve been my first clue.
I found them when I moved in—three succulents on the kitchen windowsill, still alive. Plump and green. The realtor muttered something about “left in a hurry” and changed the subject when I asked why.
The plants thrived. I’m normally a serial plant killer, but these things were indestructible. They grew fast—too fast. Within a week, they’d doubled in size. I moved them to bigger pots.
Then I noticed something odd. Each morning, they’d be facing a different direction. Not toward the light—toward the bedroom door. All three of them, leaves angled like they were watching.
I laughed it off. Plants don’t watch things.
But I started closing the bedroom door at night.
Last week, I woke up at 3 AM. The house was silent except for a faint… rustling. Scratching. Coming from the kitchen.
I crept out of bed and pushed the door open.
The plants had moved. They were sitting in the middle of the floor—not knocked over, but “relocated” and arranged in a triangle. And in the center, spelled out in potting soil:
FEED US
I packed a bag that morning. Put the house up for sale that afternoon.
I walk by that house sometimes. Someone’s already moved in. I thought about warning them, but what would I even say? The new owner seems excited—she mentioned she loves gardening.
🎃 🌱
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Today and this weekend only, you all have been cursed.
Jump in the thread 🧵 and tell me a spooky story, community-related or otherwise. Then give at least 1 draculotter / get 1 draculotter in the thread 
