Chapter 3 Ghost terror

In a black-and-white room with a minimalist style. Several beautifully affixed photo frames adorn the walls. A handsome person with curly eyelashes was sleeping on a soft mattress wrapped in a thick blanket.

The burly man looks like he is squirming uncomfortably, and the sweat on his forehead is also flowing like tears. The sound of irregular breathing seemed to indicate something had happened to his subconscious.

"Aaargh.."

Cristian Andrew is a brown-eyed man with beautiful eyelashes. And curly hair that matches her eye color. He screamed as his consciousness began to return. What kind of nightmare was that? To the extent that Cristian felt trembling with fear and sweat that soaked his athletic body.

"Damn, that dream again," he muttered, hitting his head, trying to shake off the bad thoughts.

Cristian put his hand on his chest, catching his breath to calm down. Having just calmed down, Cristian again felt something unusual. Suddenly he got goosebumps; his body became cold and hot. Cristian looked around his room, a very neat room with very bright lighting. His irises moved restlessly for some reason.

"Aaaa... Ghost." Cristian quickly covered his body with a blanket when he saw a figure he believed was a ghost.

"Gosh, I beg you to go!" Cristian kept shouting to chase away the ghost; his hands were even shaking violently. How could he not? He just got calm, and suddenly a ghost with a pathetic condition appeared beside him. His face was half covered in blood, and his body was even more worrisome, with wounds and blood everywhere.

It's been almost two months since the incident on the road that time, where Cristian accidentally bumped into someone. Since then, Cristian's life has become restless, and his days are filled with fear and anxiety. The ghost of the man he bumped into in the past often appeared suddenly wherever Cristian went, and strangely enough, it was the only ghost that kept roaming around him.

Often, Cristian looks like a zombie with black eye bags; it's all because of the ghost that always bothers him. Not infrequently, Cristian doesn't have an appetite just because he remembers the spirit in that pathetic condition; the blood that flows on his forehead and body is always ringing in Cristian's mind.

"Please go away; don't disturb me!" Cristian kept screaming in fear; his athletic body did not guarantee courage with the figure of a supernatural being. For Cristian, ghosts are scarier than anything, Cristian coward? Yes, that's the truth.

Krieeet...

The sound of the door opening made Cristian's heart beat faster. He continued to say a prayer for the ghost to disappear forever.

After a few seconds, Cristian felt the blanket clinging to his body slowly being pulled down. "Aaaa go! I'm sorry!" Cristian shouted as the blanket suddenly opened up by itself.

"Cris, why are you shouting?"

Hearing a familiar voice in his ears, Cristian opened his eyes. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw his younger sister next to him, but the calmness didn't last long. When Cristian returned to see the ghost standing behind his sister, he wanted to shout but was ashamed of his sister. Finally, Cristian could only look away, swallowing hard. Every time Cristian is asked, he will not answer, making him even more curious.

"Hey! Why the hell? It's so strange," said the girl, raising one eyebrow.

"No, I want to go to the bathroom first," Cristian answered quickly, as fast as the rappers. Then he got up from his bed and ran to the bathroom.

Cristian's younger sister, named Tania Adisti, shrugged her shoulders indifferently, her eyes still staring at every corner of Cristian's room. The chubby-cheeked girl wondered why Cristian's room looked so bright. Even brighter than the photo booth.

"Doesn't his eye hurt?" She muttered as she turned off the switch in the room.

***

A towering building has AT Group written in front of it. A company managed by a young entrepreneur who is known for being firm and cold is a property company that is at the peak of its success.

A man wearing a gray suit got out of the car; his face was very handsome, with a pointed nose and white skin. Not forgetting the sunglasses that were always seen perched on the bridge of his nose, the man walked authoritatively past the employees. No one can deny the good looks and charisma of Cristian Andrew, owner of the AT Group company, which is a branch of Jonathan's father's company.

Cristian walks casually without wanting to greet the employees-not arrogant, but that's his nature-cold and untouchable-that's what people know from Cristian's figure.

"Oh my God, it's the ghost again. Oh god, please, he's gone." Cristian mumbled softly, closing his eyes when he saw the ghost that often bothered him not far from him. Cristian continued walking calmly towards his room, occasionally closing his eyes behind the sunglasses he was wearing.

"Uh, yes, sir, Cristian has always been wearing sunglasses for the past few months."

"Yes, I don't know; don't make any noise. If found out, you can be fired."

Whispers from the employees reached Cristian's ears, but he remained silent, holding back his anger. The most important thing now is to get away from the ghost and quickly reach his room. About the sunglasses that are always attached to his nose, Cristian wears them on purpose to cover the eye bags that are starting to blacken because he often has trouble sleeping at night, and also to keep the ghost curious and not visible in his eyes. Cristian never took off the sunglasses when he was out of the house.

***

In another place, in a room that is not too big, With a blue wall and some items also matching the color of the wall, items that are left messy do not reflect neatness at all.

A beautiful woman with white skin. Pointed nose and beautiful eyes, accompanied by curled eyelashes and black hair that was parted high, showing off her long neck. The woman with thin bangs was named Agatha Caitlin, the owner of the room.

"I'm really beautiful," Agatha muttered after adding pink lipstick to her lips. The woman, who is often called Agatha, spins in front of the mirror; her white shirt and blue jeans look very fitting on her body.

"Oh my god, Agatha, she said she wanted to find work; why hasn't she left yet? What time is it now?" An old woman suddenly entered Agatha's room.

"What time is it, mom?" Instead of answering the mother's question, Agatha asked again. Indeed, the definition of a child is annoying.

"You see, it's half past eight," answered Monica, the mother.

"Ohh.." Agatha nodded as if nothing had happened, but a few seconds later she realized something.

"What? It's eight-thirty? It's bad! I'm late!" shouted Agatha excitedly, patting herself. Putting everything she needs in the bag, she didn't forget the bundles to apply for the job. Not caring that the paper would get tangled, Agatha continued to put it in one by one without tidying it up.