The (Mis)adventures of Jyl: Villisca Axe Murder House

Jyl takes a stab at Iowa’s darkest house, but is it ax or axe? That is the question…

Welcome back, misadventurers! Some places work hard to look haunted. They loom. They creak. They understand the assignment. The Villisca Axe Murder House isn’t one of them. It looks like a perfectly ordinary house in a small Iowa town. That is, until you notice the sign out front that says VILLISCA AX MURDER HOUSE. And yes, they advertise it as “axe,” but the sign reads “ax.” (Both are technically correct, and yes, I could write a separate article about the evolution of the word and the importance of consistency, but I want you to like my content.)  

In June of 1912, eight people were murdered inside the home. The Moore family and two young guests were killed in their sleep with an axe taken from the house itself. The crime was brutal, deliberate, and never solved. Investigators at the time struggled to piece together a clear suspect, and over the years, theories have come and gone without ever settling into certainty. The case remains one of the most infamous unsolved murders in American history.

What draws people in isn’t just the violence, but the details in the home. The house was restored to reflect the time period, and walking through it now means moving through the same rooms where those events took place, with very little distance between past and present. It’s not at all theatrical; it doesn’t need to be. Although, the creepy dolls on the beds are a nice touch.

That sense of proximity is part of what gives the house its reputation. Over time, reports of unexplained activity began to surface. Visitors have described hearing footsteps when no one else was inside, doors moving on their own, and voices that seem to come from empty rooms. Some claim to hear children, which is the kind of detail that tends to stay with you longer than you would like. Others describe a heaviness in certain parts of the house, a feeling that’s difficult to explain but easy to recognize once it sets in.

Whether those experiences are paranormal or simply the result of standing in a place with that kind of history is open to interpretation. The human mind doesn’t need much encouragement when it knows exactly what happened in a space. Every sound feels intentional. Every shadow carries weight. It becomes difficult to separate what’s there from what you expect to find.

The house is open to visitors, and yes, you can stay there overnight if that sounds like a good life choice to you. Whether you believe the paranormal reports or not, the house itself remains what it has always been. A quiet home in a quiet town, forever tied to a night that never found closure. Sometimes the real things are scarier than any ghost story.

Jyl Glenn is a writer, editor, formatter, anthologist, poet, and a medical-legal writer and consultant. Her lifelong love affair with horror began at a very early age when she was left unattended on the weekend Poltergeist debuted on HBO. And then she figured out she could read any horror book she liked as long as she hung out at the public library, even if the librarian deemed it not to be age appropriate. Jyl was born and raised in New York and now lives in Tulsa with her dog and kitten. She loves creepy art, dark poetry, and pink dinosaurs. When she isn’t dabbling in the macabre—she’s most likely asleep.

PLEASE NOTE: The views and opinions of the staff of Memento Mori Ink do not necessarily represent those of Memento Mori Ink or Crystal Lake Publishing. Thank you for understanding.