This past summer, Derek and Maria Broaddus found their dream home in Westfield, New Jersey—$1.3 million, 4,000 square-feet with six bedrooms, more than enough for them and their three young children. The “grand, turn-of-the-century home” is described as having:
“High ceilings, coffered ceilings, elegant foyers, built-in window seats, fireplaces and more. The stunning master suite boasts a custom dressing room / closet and a renovated bath. Two porches, a covered, open front porch and an enclosed side sun-porch (27 x 11) with stone fireplace add to the inviting appeal. An open staircase leads to the third floor with sitting area, two bedrooms and renovated bath with skylight. A finished playroom is located in basement.”
The community, too, was idyllic, with mom-and-pop shops lining the streets downtown, and an abundance of decades-old trees.
But the new owners are too afraid to move in, and no one is willing to take the luxury home off their hands.
Three days after the Broadduses purchased the house, they received their first letter from an entity calling himself “The Watcher.”
“Why are you here? I will find out.”
“The Watcher” claimed that the house had been “the subject of my family for decades,” and that generation after generation watched it—and the people in it.
“My grandfather watched the house in the 1920s and my father watched in the 1960s. It is now my time. I have been put in charge of watching and waiting for its second coming.”
The letters continued, each more sinister than the last.
“Have they found out what is in the walls yet? In time they will.”
They referred to the Broadduses three children as “young blood.”
“Do you need to fill the house with the young blood I requested? Once I know their names I will call to them and draw them out to me.”
“I am pleased to know your names now and the name of the young blood you have brought to me. Will the young bloods play in the basement?
And then they became threatening.
“Who has the bedrooms facing the street? I’ll know as soon as you move in. … It will help me to know who is in which bedroom then I can plan better.”
The Broadduses became “consumed daily by stress, anxiety and fear” regarding what the “Watcher” would do. They relisted the house, desperate to sell it, but to no avail.
Then the Broadduses discovered that the previous owners of the house had received similar letters, and had failed to disclose the home’s strange history when they sold it. Now the Broadduses are suing the previous owners.
The police are conducting an exhaustive investigation, but the “Watcher”—and his identity—continue to evade them.
Forget horror movies. Reality is where the scary stuff really happens.