Want Your Supernatural Story to Stand Out? Start With This Demon in the Spare Room

Your Next Scary Story Could Come From Craigslist

🕯️ Spooky Greetings from the Vault 🕯️

Greetings from the dark side, friends.

It’s Bill — your Vault Master, chaos-wrangler, and reluctant roommate-exorcist.

This week’s been one for the books. The gremlins knocked some wires loose. I’ve been using duct tape, holy water, and caffeine to fix things up. We’re crawling back toward normal.

Hope you’re all staying spooky! Read those spine-tinglers. Write thrillers. Avoid Craigslist like it's a matter of life and death. Spoiler: it just might!

Tell me in the comments:

● What are you writing?

● What are you reading?

● What’s the last scary movie that got to you?

Now let’s get into something real today. A personal tale. A warning. A story you might just want to steal and run with. Because this one? This one wrote itself. Or maybe… something else wrote it.

⚠️ Demon Roommates Are Real (and They Don’t Pay Rent) ⚠️

Friends, this isn’t fiction. It should be. But it’s not.

Once upon a dark patch of my life, I opened my home to two different roommates.

Two different people.

Same dark energy.

And I don’t mean “they played loud music” or “left the dishes in the sink.”

I mean: Pentagrams. Threats. Dark rituals. A priest on speed dial.

Let’s start at the top.

Roommate #1: He came from Craigslist and possibly hell.

First mistake: Craigslist.

Second mistake: Letting this guy move in.

At first, he was just... weird. He said I had a “feminine voice” and should answer phones as Wilma. (Seriously?)

But then came the real red flags:

● Racial slurs toward my partner.

● Walking out at midnight to “hunt Pokémon” (in a cemetery)?

● Screaming threats like “I’ll stab him in the throat!” — shirtless, in the rain, no less.

After we kicked him out, we found things.

Dark things.

I won’t post pictures — I deleted them out of spiritual self-defense — but there were symbols. There were objects. There was a vibe you could taste in the air, and it tasted like rot.

I called a priest. Holy water everywhere. Prayers in every room.

I thought that was the end.

It wasn’t.

Roommate #2: Smiled like a saint, moved like a shadow.

This one came wrapped in Christian talk. Said “God bless” a lot.

But the dark wasn’t gone.

This woman was a walking contradiction.

● Claimed I was racist (my partner is Black — we had been together 20 years)

● Said gays were “unholy” (I’m gay. She knew this.)

● Hardly paid rent and ran up bills.

● Spread mean gossip to a friend who hated white people and the LGBTQ community, even though this roommate’s son was part of the LGBTQ community.

And the energy? Friends, I’ve lived through flu seasons. I’ve been tired. But this was different.

When she lived with us, I was sick all the time. No energy. No joy. Just... a void.

She never wanted her picture taken. Always turned her head. Almost like she knew the camera would catch something she didn’t want shown.

Was she possessed?

Was she something else?

I don’t know. But here’s what I do know:

When we moved, her own family wouldn’t take her in.

Not her son.

Not her mother.

Not a single soul.

That’s a red flag the size of Texas.

My Final Thoughts: Demons Come Dressed Like Roommates

Call me paranoid. Call me spiritual. Call me dramatic.

But both of those people? They weren’t just “bad energy.” They were entities.

And not the kind that goes away when you block their number.

I’ll never take on a roommate again. The rent isn’t worth it. The spiritual cost was way too high.

🔥 WRITING PROMPT: The Roommate Wasn’t Human

Let’s turn this trauma into story fuel.

Prompt:

A young couple looks for a roommate after the wife’s harsh, maybe-witchy mother passes away. A nice young woman shows up. Rent is paid. Smiles perfectly.

But after she moves in...

● Friends vanish

● Lights flicker

● The wife sees her dead mother, who whispers, “She serves me.”

What’s going on? Is the roommate a vessel? A summoned servant? A willing apprentice?

And how far will the wife go to break the curse before her husband ends up next?

Take it. Twist it. Make it scream.

Tag me if you post it — I’d love to read your take.

⚰️ Want tools for writing stories like this?

Templates. Courses. Weekly story-building meetups. All waiting for you in the Vault of the Supernatural.

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