She wasn't wrong.
When Ray looked at this house the hairs on his arms stood on end and an icy shiver ran up and down his back, like slender fingertips tracing the length of his spine. It was creepy as hell, and he couldn't imagine anyone buying it, let alone standing too long to look at it. Children probably avoided it like the plague, crossing the street in an effort to escape it's spooky gaze.
But...but no, it was more than that.
"This house feels haunted," he said in a low voice, anxiety gripping his throat with unease, and it only got worse with what he said next. He swallowed hard and forced the words out.
"We have to go inside. They could have been here, and even if they weren't...this place...it's...it's dangerous." His instincts were screaming at him, telling him that this place came bundled with a big ol' side order of harm. It was practically dripping with blackness, and all the negative emotions that came with it. Hate, anger, jealousy, grief and misery. Powerful emotions, the kind that overwhelm and smother, the kind Ray had become familiar with over the last six years.
"We have to," he said again to himself as he took a deep breath and took the first nerve-wracking step towards the door.