The house we lived in...

...was big and adventurous! The house had seven rooms that were decorated with comely enrichment, they were commodious and each had a different interior layout. Each of the fifteen rooms shared a distinct semblance. One room would be esoteric and alluring, such that only those who truly embrace death would venture into the room. The second was effervescent with a sharp vibe of whimsicalness; the third was felicitous for only the upmost women and men. The fourth held a somber mood, of course, it would only make sense that a lugubrious person wold open the door so effortlessly. The fifth was temperate and effulgent, almost any visitor would be instantly attracted to this blissful room. The sixth room was known as the "devil room". Many people avoided this room and created all sorts of myths that could have occurred. Its doors creaked every time someones curiosity got the better of them; In spite of frequent admonitions, the young would still sneak in and every time, if caught, had to dissuade their elders with countless excuses.  The seventh room was like a playful adventure for children and anyone else who still enjoyed youth. It's feeling was similar to that of the second room, but had an eminent feel of happiness. All seven rooms have they're own distinct feel. They tend to satisfy the needs of certain people and are sometimes known to be therapeutic. Though, what I have revealed is only partly true. At night is a whole other story. The house owner does not know of this and neither does his guest nor his staff. As omniscient as I can be, I will tell you the side of both stories. In the mist of darkness, the house can never be seen -- and I mean never. Not even the animals, who's senses surpass that of a humans, can not detect its whereabouts at night. It has completely vanished. I wish not to describe it as "scary" but as fact and truth of the supernatural. Inside everything is quiescent, there is no demonic glow or ghost of any sort as you may have come to expect. No slamming of the doors, no whispers from the deceased, no walking into the abyss, no bloody writings or threatening claw marks, and no insane killers lurking from behind. Inside is pitch black. Nothing can light the candles to show you the way; the best one can do is hold out a hand and feel one's way through.