Everyone Showed Up in Red Gloves: The Housewarming Surprise We Never Saw Coming

We Gathered All Our Neighbors for Our Housewarming Party and Were Shocked They All Showed up in Red Gloves

The initial tap on the door appeared harmless enough. However, the evening took a dark turn as additional neighbors showed out for our housewarming celebration. They were all hiding something in plain sight while donning the same unnerving red gloves.

Do you recognize the sensation when everything seems flawless? That’s how Regina and I felt when we purchased our ideal home, a stunning Victorian mansion in a charming neighborhood full of nice people and tree-lined avenues. We were ecstatic, believing we had won the lottery. We had no idea that this charming neighborhood had a sinister side that still gives me the chills, until our housewarming celebration.

“Gabby, honey, can you grab the cheese platter from the kitchen?” From the living room came Regina’s call.

Excitement mounting at the prospect of getting to know all our new neighbors at the housewarming party, I made my way to the kitchen. “Coming, babe!” I replied, returning with the heavy platter balanced.

Regina smiled, her eyes gleaming. She squeezed my arm and said, in a whisper, “This is going to be perfect.”

“It’s true,” I replied with a smile. It’s unbelievable that we now have a place of our own. And in such a lovely area as well!”

When the doorbell rang, we looked at each other thrilled before answering it and letting our first visitors in.

Everything was going well at first. The laughter and chatter of neighbors mixing, enjoying wine, and exchanging local anecdotes filled our home.

Our elderly next-door neighbor, Mrs. Harper, told us, “You’re going to love it here.” “It’s such a close-knit community.”

I took a sip of my drink and nodded. “We currently do. Everyone has been so hospitable.”

“Oh, please just wait,” Mrs. Harper winked. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

As the evening went on, I became aware of something strange. It started very subtle but quickly grew unavoidable. Each and every visitor had on red gloves.

Whispering, “Hey, what’s with all the gloves?” I gave Regina a gentle prod.

Glancing around the room, she scowled. “Oh. That’s peculiar. Perhaps it’s a regional issue?”

I said, “But it’s the middle of summer.” “And they’re all the exact same shade of red.”

I dismissed it, but the uneasiness that was beginning to grow inside me persisted. Not even to eat, drink, or even when it grew warm inside did anyone remove their gloves. When we scrutinized them too closely, a few even appeared to cover their hands.

My curiosity overcame me. I went up to Mrs Harper, who was enjoying a canapé.

“Mrs. Harper, those are some interesting gloves,” I remarked teasingly. “Are they for a special occasion?”

Her smile faltered for a fraction of a second before returning to its warm glow as she stiffened. “Ah, these? They’re just… customary in the area. It will grow on you.”

“A tradition?” I applied pressure. “What’s it about?”

Mrs. Harper lowered her voice and nervously looked around. Let’s just say that it’s something that we all decided upon a very long time ago. You’ll get it eventually.”

“But why red?” I didn’t give up. “And why gloves specifically?”

Mrs. Harper glanced quickly around the space. “God, Gabriel, right now. Everything on schedule. Would you please go check on the rest of your guests?”

She ran off before I could ask any more questions, which only made me more perplexed.

I looked worriedly at Regina as the visitors started to leave. We couldn’t quite place it, but something didn’t feel quite right.

“Thanks for coming, everyone!” Regina called as she bid farewell to the remaining few survivors.

With heavy breaths, we closed the door. As I mumbled, “Well, that was… interesting,”

With a troubled brow, Regina nodded. “Did you notice how they all avoided talking about the gloves when we asked?”

Yes, it was strange. And did you notice how fast Mrs. Harper brought up another topic?

“I did,” Regina admitted while biting her lip. “And did you observe that nobody removed them? Not even one time?”

That evening, we debated hypotheses regarding the gloves and the mysterious remarks we had overheard late into the night. While cleaning the next morning, Regina discovered a little message that had been tucked beneath our door. She read it out loud, her face going pale:

“You’re welcome to the area. Remember to bring your red gloves. You’ll quickly require them.

She exclaimed, “Gabby, what does this mean?”

I took the note and read it several times. “I don’t know, but I’m starting to wonder if moving here was the right choice.”

“Should we call the police?” Regina wrung her hands and made a suggestion.

I gave a headshake. “And tell them what, exactly? That our neighbors left us a mysterious note and matchbox gloves? They would laugh us out of the city.

Our neighbors kept hinting at us to purchase our own red gloves as the days went by. It was uncomfortable, to put it mildly.

Mrs. Harper came up to me one morning as I was getting the mail, her eyes serious.

“Gabriel, sweetheart,” she murmured. “It goes beyond custom with the gloves. They keep you safe from the spirit that roams this land, the Hand of the Forgotten. To be safe, everyone wears them.”

I blinked in surprise. “Hand of the… what? I apologize. A ghost?”

Mrs. Harper gave a solemn nod. You will see in due course. Aim to obtain your gloves as soon as possible.

“Mrs Harper, this is not acceptable. There isn’t anything like it.

“Silence, young man,” she snapped. “You have no idea what you’re getting into. You risk dying if you ignore this.

I stood still, trying to take in what I had just heard, as she shuffled away.

I told Regina about the conversation later that night. We both dismissed it with a laugh, attributing it to superstition in a tiny town. But odd things began to happen over the course of the following few days.

Small events started it all: strange symbols were etched into the earth surrounding our home, and garden tools moved inexplicably. Then the nighttime footsteps and murmurs outside our windows began.

Regina beckoned me out into the backyard one morning, her voice trembling. “Gabby, look at this.”

I looked after her till I saw a crude painting in the dirt of a hand with long, spindly fingers.

With wide eyes, she inquired, “Did you do this?”

I gently shook my head. “No… I thought maybe you did.”

Regina gripped my arm and said, “Gabby, I’m scared.” “What if Mrs. Harper was right?”

I tried to sound more confident than I actually was as I put my arm around her. “It’s most likely simply a few youngsters having fun. There is nothing to be concerned about.

The tipping point was when we discovered a tiny voodoo doll with red gloves resting on our front step. Regina and I gazed at it, feeling a shiver go down our backs.

“That’s it,” I firmly stated. “We need answers.”

We invited everyone over for a neighborhood meeting that we had called. I inhaled deeply and spoke up as our living room filled with red-gloved neighbors.

“All right, tell me, what’s up with the red gloves? It’s frightening us that we’ve been discovering strange objects all over our house. Is this a joke of any kind?

Our neighbors, to our astonishment, looked at each other sarcastically and then burst out laughing. Mrs. Harper moved ahead while continuing to laugh.

“Oh, Regina and Gabriel, you two were such terrific athletes. I believe it’s time for us to be honest with you.”

Mrs. Harper clarified that everything—including the gloves, the “Hand of the Forgotten,” and the eerie incidents—was a sophisticated local practical joke.

“Every new couple gets the same treatment,” she smiled. It’s how we welcome you and test your ability to have some fun. And I have to admit, you two performed admirably!”

Regina and I were taken aback. We couldn’t help but chuckle with them as dawn came to us.

“So, all of this was just a prank?” I questioned, shook my head in shock. “The gloves, the whispers, the creepy symbols?”

Mrs. Harper continued to smile and nodded. “Exactly! You two passed this small test of resolve with flying colors. “Officially, welcome to the neighborhood!”

“But why go to such extremes?” Still appearing a little startled, Regina questioned.

Neighbor Mr. Richards added his voice. Over time, it’s evolved into a little rivalry. We aim to outdo the previous pair every time they move in.”

Mrs. Harper continued, “And you two have been our most entertaining victims yet!”

After several weeks, Regina and I determined it was time for a little light-hearted retaliation. We pretended to be a casual get-together and asked all the neighbors over for a “thank you” supper.

They had no idea that we had a plan. We had purchased several lifelike imitation insects and placed them thoughtfully throughout the house.

As the evening wore on, our neighbors began to discover the “surprises” we had hidden.

Mr. Richards yelled, “What the—! “as he leaped back from his seat. “My napkin has a spider in it!”

Mrs. Harper took a phony worm out of her glass and giggled. “Oh, both of you! You truly did have us covered.”

“Payback’s a bug, isn’t it?” I made a joke that caused giggles and groans from everyone in the room.

Everyone realized they’d been pranked in return, and the room burst into laughter. We bonded through our lighthearted back and forth that didn’t exist previously.

Mr. Richards responded, wiping tears of amusement from his eyes, “I have to hand it to you.” “This was brilliant.”

“We took advice from the best,” winked Regina in response.

There was a warmth in the air that transcended the summer heat as the night wore on and our guests got ready to leave. We had transcended an intangible barrier, authenticating our membership in this peculiar society.

After the final visitor departed, Mrs. Harper smiled broadly at us. “You know, Gabriel, Regina, I think you two will fit in here just fine.”

I smiled in return at her. Mrs. Harper, I’m glad to hear that. We’re keeping our red gloves, so don’t worry. Just in case.

“That’s the spirit,” she said, laughing. “You never know when they might come in handy.”

With red gloves tucked under their arms, Regina and I watched as our neighbors vanished into the night, feeling, for the first time, that we had finally found our place in this oddball, amazing neighborhood.

With a loving sigh, Regina snuggled into me as we watched Mrs. Harper go.

“You know,” she replied, “I think we’re going to be very happy here.”

Grinning, I gave her a head kiss. “I believe you are correct. However, perhaps we should inquire about any local “traditions” before signing the paperwork the next time we relocate.”

We chuckled as we made our way back inside our house, which was now home to many new acquaintances and developing memories.