Wamuzi News Ke
Genre: Horror, Paranormal, Comedy, Romance
Format: Episodic Fiction Series
💔 Episode 1: “Welcome to Honeysuckle”
No one sane would move into Honeysuckle House.
But sanity had never been Mercy Kamara’s strongest trait.
After a painfully awkward breakup and a series of unfortunate life choices—including yelling at her boss during a Zoom call and dramatically quitting her job while dressed as a giant taco for a failed marketing stunt—Mercy needed a fresh start.
So when she stumbled upon a bizarre online listing titled: “FREE VICTORIAN HOUSE – NO STRINGS ATTACHED”, she laughed, sent an email (with a subject line that said “YOLO”), and promptly forgot about it.
Two weeks later, she was the proud owner of a seven-bedroom, three-story mansion in the middle of nowhere: Bloodmere, a town so tiny it wasn’t even on Google Maps. Population: 146. Probably.
Her friends thought she was insane. Her mother prayed over her with anointing oil. But Mercy? Mercy was too excited by the idea of her own creepy Scooby-Doo house to be scared.
Mercy stood at the wrought-iron gate, suitcase in hand, the wind blowing dramatically through her braids like she was the star of her own indie film. The crow on the gate squawked at her like it disapproved of her outfit.
She rolled her eyes. “Didn’t ask you.”
The gate creaked as she pushed it open, revealing a gravel path leading to the grand, looming Victorian structure. Ivy choked the walls, the windows looked like tired eyes, and one shutter banged lazily in the breeze.
“I’ve seen worse,” she told herself, lying with confidence.
The house exhaled as she stepped onto the porch. It wasn’t a sound, exactly—more like a feeling. Like the walls were holding their breath. The doorknob was ice cold as she turned it. It opened with a groan that sounded like someone waking from a long nap.
Inside, it was dim and dusty, the air thick with old secrets and the faint scent of rosewater and mold. Mercy took one cautious step in.
“Hello?” she called. “Is this where I get murdered? Because I left my pepper spray in the Uber.”
A shadow moved at the end of the hallway. Then a voice: “You’re early.”
Mercy jumped back. “Who the hell—”
A tall, shadowy figure emerged. He wore a velvet bathrobe, fluffy pink bunny slippers, and a monocle. He looked like a Victorian vampire who’d gone slightly off-brand.
“Ezra,” he said, with a dramatic bow. “I’m part of the house.”
Mercy blinked. “You’re part of the what now?”
“The house,” he repeated, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Bound. Haunted. Cursed. Pick one.”
He turned and walked into the parlor. Mercy, being both curious and mildly reckless, followed.
The parlor was… weirdly cozy. A roaring fireplace. Velvet couches. Tea service set out like he’d been expecting guests.
Ezra poured her tea. “Earl Grey. I don’t know why ghosts love it so much.”
“You’re a ghost?”
“Of sorts.”
“That explains the robe.”
Later that night, after an oddly charming dinner made by a fridge that stocked itself (and insisted on labeling her meals with notes like “DO NOT EAT THIS IF YOU VALUE YOUR SOUL”), Mercy wandered into her new bedroom.
It was huge. Four-poster bed. Antique mirror. A bookshelf full of dusty volumes with titles like Summoning Spirits for Dummies and Hauntings: A Memoir.
She lay in bed, exhausted, but sleep didn’t come easy.
Then the sleep paralysis hit.
She couldn’t move. Couldn’t scream.
The room grew colder. Shadows gathered. And then—a weight on her chest.
Something was sitting on her.
Mercy’s eyes darted around the room in panic.
Then the shadow leaned down. She could see it. A girl. Pale. Dead eyes. Blood-soaked prom dress. Lipstick smeared across a sneer.
“You don’t belong here,” the ghost hissed.
A whisper in her ear: “Leave now… or fall in love with a demon. There is no in-between.”
Suddenly, the paralysis broke. Mercy gasped and bolted upright.
Standing in the doorway was Ezra, holding a glass of milk.
“Oh, ignore Dahlia,” he said with a casual wave. “She likes to make a dramatic first impression.”
“She tried to kill me!”
“Romantically.”
Mercy blinked. “What does that even mean?”
“You’ll see.”
By morning, the house had… changed.
Or maybe Mercy had.
The wallpaper was a shade brighter. The sun filtered through the dusty windows like golden syrup. A cat she didn’t own lounged on her windowsill, blinking at her as if she were the intruder.
Downstairs, Ezra was reading a floating newspaper while drinking something suspiciously red from a teacup.
“You’re still here,” he said. “Most people leave after Dahlia tries her whole ‘vengeful ghost’ bit.”
Mercy sat down, grabbed a biscuit from the table, and took a bite. “She said I’d fall in love with a demon. That sounds like the start of a romance novel.”
Ezra raised an eyebrow. “You should be careful with that sort of thing. The house listens.”
“Oh yeah? What’s it saying now?”
Ezra paused. Then he leaned forward, voice low: “It thinks you’re interesting.”
Mercy laughed. “Good. Because I’m not leaving. Not until I get some answers.”
Ezra nodded slowly. “Then you should probably meet the witch in the basement.”
Mercy blinked. “I—I’m sorry, the what in the where?”
Ezra stood, brushing biscuit crumbs off his robe. “Try not to wake her. She bites.”
Mercy sighed. “This is going to be the weirdest year of my life.”
The cat blinked once. And then vanished.
End of Episode 1: Welcome to Honeysuckle
Next Episode: “Don’t Feed the Witch in the Basement”
Author’s Note:
Welcome to The Haunting of Honeysuckle House, where every episode brings you horror, humor, heart, and a touch of chaos. If you enjoyed this episode, get ready for cursed objects, questionable romance, a demon with a killer smile, a ghost prom gone wrong, and a house that might just be alive.
Stay tuned for Episode 2, because Honeysuckle is just getting started…
