Real estate can be a scary business. When you buy a home - or any property - you inherit more than the mortgage. You inherit its history. Agents will gladly talk square footage, school districts, and upgrades, but there’s one detail most listings never mention: does the place have a reputation? 

 Disclosure laws vary by state. In Texas, sellers aren’t required to volunteer ghost stories, rumors of hauntings, suicides (unless the event physically affected the property), or deaths from natural causes unless a buyer asks directly. 

 Murder is different. If a seller knows a homicide occurred on the property - or that someone died because of a defect in the house itself - that information must be disclosed. 

 So that suspiciously affordable Victorian with the charmingly creaky floors might be a bargain… or it might be priced that way for a reason. Either way, it helps to understand what Texas actually requires sellers to reveal - and what they’re legally allowed to keep to themselves. 

 Recently, Fidelity National Title hosted a three-hour workshop, Haunted Histories: Understanding and Managing Properties with Dark Pasts, for local real estate professionals. 

 Dustin Orlando of 1st Rate Inspections led the session, drawing on fifteen years of firsthand experience with stigmatized properties - including the day his team discovered an actual body during an inspection. 

 Stigmatized properties can arise from far more than haunted reputations. They may be linked to past criminal activity, unnatural deaths, or even historic ties to slavery. 

 

 One of the biggest challenges is that a property doesn’t need documented facts to earn a stigma. Persistent rumors - or even an overly theatrical tour guide spinning fictional tales on the sidewalk - can shape how a home is perceived. 

 Buyers can review public property records, but they should also talk with neighbors, local historians, and archives to get a fuller picture of a home’s past. Websites such as Housecreep.com and DiedinHouse.com (which also outlines disclosure rules by state) can offer additional context. 

 The workshop took place inside 2417 Avenue M, a home currently for sale and long rumored to have ghostly inhabitants. Realtor Mari Berend, who represents the property, has become well-versed in its history and reported activity. 

 Residents and visitors have described knocking on walls, the sound of a ball bouncing across the wooden floors, and even sightings of an ethereal nun - a nod, some say, to the building’s connection to the Ursuline Academy. 

 Stories like these are intriguing, mostly harmless, and, under Texas law, not something a seller must disclose unless a buyer asks directly. 

 Orlando explains that a haunted property is generally defined as a home where a death - natural, accidental, or violent - is followed by reported activity. But he’s quick to note that many incidents people label as paranormal have far more ordinary explanations. 

 Flickering lights often trace back to a weak breaker. Doors that slam when the air conditioning kicks on usually result from a sudden change in room pressure, not a poltergeist. 

 “If there is a haunting,” Orlando laughs, “I’d want to know whether it’s a Casper-type ghost or something from The Shining. A lot of people I talk to wouldn’t mind having Casper as a roommate.” 

 Survey data suggests he’s right. A 2025 Rocket Mortgage poll found that 65% of Americans would consider buying a haunted house - with 39% saying “definitely” and another 26% saying they’d consider it. 

 A separate 2025 study from Clever Real Estate reported that 72% would consider the purchase if it came with a lower price, reinforcing the idea that the cost of home repairs may be scarier than most ghosts. 

 But attitudes shift when disclosure enters the picture. A 2025 LendingTree survey found 73% of Americans believe sellers should be legally required to disclose a suspected haunting, even though 37% admit they wouldn’t disclose one themselves. And that’s where things can get legally sticky. 

 Texas law separates causes of death when it comes to disclosure. A peaceful passing - someone dying naturally in their sleep - doesn’t need to be mentioned at all. 

 Deaths that result from violent or self-inflicted acts are treated differently. If the incident physically affected the home itself - flooring, walls, or other structural elements - that information must be disclosed. And a verbal answer during a walkthrough isn’t enough, even if a buyer asks directly. 

 To get a legally reliable response, a buyer’s agent needs to ask the question in writing, typically by email (texts rarely hold up in court.) Once the written question is sent, the seller is required to answer truthfully. 

 Of course, if an incident occurred more than fifty years ago and isn’t part of well-documented history, sellers may genuinely have no knowledge of it - and can’t be held responsible for that lack of awareness. 

 One San Antonio case illustrates how disclosure can go wrong. A family buying a home asked the sellers why they were moving out so soon after arriving. 

 The sellers claimed a job transfer. In reality, they were leaving because of a reported haunting they had already discussed with neighbors. 

 When the new owners learned the truth from a neighbor, they sued - and won. The court found the sellers liable for lying on their disclosure, not for the haunting itself. 

 In another case Orlando described, a homeowner spent years publicly promoting her house as haunted - telling neighbors, hosting paid tours, and speaking to the media. 

 She later sold the property to an out-of-town buyer who began experiencing strange events himself. He sued and won, arguing that the seller’s long-publicized claims should have been disclosed. 

 Orlando notes that stigmatized properties aren’t always harder to sell - and they aren’t automatically discounted. 

 In places like Galveston and New Orleans, residents often embrace colorful histories and local lore. Older homes are seen as “history rich,” a perspective that inspires curiosity and appreciation rather than dread. On the island, a house with a story can be a selling point. 

 Occasionally, buyers seek out properties because of their dark pasts, marketing them as short-term rentals for thrill seekers. Some websites and national brokerages even specialize in these kinds of listings. 

 Marketing historic homes sometimes leans into that attitude. One realtor, after six months without a single offer on a reportedly haunted home, hosted a Halloween-themed open house - complete with red Jell-O and spooky decorations. The house sold shortly afterward. 

 Another agent at the workshop shared that her friend’s stagnant island listing suddenly drew showings once a “Possibly Haunted” topper was added to the yard sign. 

 Not everyone is comfortable moving into a home with any kind of stigma, whether historical or imagined. But fans of older homes know that the very fact a structure has survived for generations means it has likely lived many lives - and witnessed at least a few deaths - along the way. 

 That doesn’t mean those deaths were violent, or that ghosts linger on the property. 

 When asked whether he’s ever felt uneasy while working in a home, Orlando admitted, “There are times when you walk into a house and just get an eerie feeling. You walk into a situation, start feeling uncomfortable, and find yourself talking out loud because somehow that makes it seem better.” 

 “The home is still the home,” Orlando says. “It’s not about who lived there - it’s about the house itself and whether it has good bones.” (The “bones” part may have been an unfortunate choice of words.) 

 A past incident doesn’t automatically mean a haunting, and a haunting doesn’t automatically mean a bad investment. If you’re buying or selling a property with a history, know your state’s laws, ask the right questions in writing, and don’t expect a seller to volunteer more than the law requires. 

 With all this in mind, when asked for any final advice for buyers, Orlando joked, “What did they say when one door closes and another one opens? It’s time to move.”