the house was a recluse, with a mood-swing of it's own. it kept itself squeaky clean, come rain or storm... and not even the swingy spider could gain entry into the house, to build one of its own. insect-y crevices, hiding corners, dusty attic - the house would have none of it. it was as immaculate as it's builder had imagined it'd be - the builder who rested at the bottom of the pristine lake in the neighbourhood ever since.
off late, it was it's temper that was being tested time and again. a handful of hikers passing through the woods came to look at the house... they took pictures and fortunately for them, they did not stay around long. but the word had spread and people came in droves for a look and a buy. nobody liked it - not the house, nor the woods, nor the pristine lake in the neighbourhood - this breach of their privacy.
when all attempts to cajole people back to where they came from failed, the house sent them all to the bottom of the pristine lake in the neighbourhood.
* Three Word Wednesday prompt: cajole, recluse, temper