Living In The Haunted House

Chapter 1

Because I wanted to save money, I moved into a haunted house.

The old man downstairs warned me with a look of horror, "Miss, this house is haunted. You shouldn't live here!"

I smiled and reassured him, "It's okay. I'm poorer than any ghost. If I move in, it will be the ghosts who are disturbed."

He didn't know that I had been able to see ghosts since I was a child.

Just last night, I was up late giving a ghost some therapy!

Because I accidentally knocked my boss's wig into the food during a dinner party, I was inexplicably fired the next day.

My job, which included free accommodation, disappeared along with that wig.

After staying up all night searching for a place to live, I finally found a suitable one in the suburbs: a two-bedroom apartment with a living room, and the rent was incredibly cheap.

But you get what you pay for. I searched for news about the area and found stories of strange noises and shadows.

"This area is haunted. I'm serious. I've seen a woman with a neck as long as her arm in the elevator more than once."

Wow, it even has an elevator.

"Once, while taking a bath, I found hair with bits of flesh in the tub. It scared my boyfriend stiff."

And it has a bathtub. This place is amazing.

"One time, I came home late from work and went to the wrong floor. The door to the apartment wasn't locked. When I pushed it open, half the room was bathed in a red glow. There was no furniture inside, just an urn and an old lady burning joss paper. I moved out the next day."

Wow, no nosy neighbors either.

This was my dream home!

With a click of the mouse, I had a new place to live.

The branches outside my window scratched against the glass, sounding like someone was dragging their nails across it. I looked up.

Suddenly, a flash of white light and a rumble of thunder followed by a torrential downpour.

The light above flickered a few times before finally going out, and the small room was swallowed by darkness.

But it wasn't pitch black; I could vaguely make out the outlines of objects.

Wet footsteps sounded behind me. I looked at the mirror on the table, and the face in the mirror blurred.

Another flash of lightning revealed a man's face on my right shoulder.

The face was young, pale, and sickly, with blood-red lips and pitch-black eyes.

"Timothy, I'm leaving tomorrow," I said calmly.

The light came back on, and Timothy's black eyes faded as he plopped down on the bed.

"Just because of a wig?" he asked, bewildered.

I shrugged and started packing my things.

Timothy was a ghost messenger from the Ghost Realm. Because of his poor performance, he was only assigned a small area to manage.

The first time I saw him, he was crying in my bathroom.

I thought he was just another wandering spirit and ignored him, but he cried louder and louder. I even started to think a donkey was braying in my bathroom.

Later, I found out he was crying because he couldn't meet his performance targets and felt like a failure. I ended up giving him therapy all night, despite my exhaustion.

Since then, he would visit me empty-handed from time to time.

"Where are you moving to?" he asked.

I told him the new address, and he got excited.

"You're so lucky! That's the area I most want to work in. There's so much business there, you could get rich in no time!" he said enviously, then added indignantly, "Why do good things never happen to me?"

Do you want this luck?

I twitched my mouth but said nothing.

"I'll come visit you when I have time. Save some clients for me, okay? You're my only friend in the Mortal Realm," he said, winking and giving me a fawning smile.

Chapter 2

My luggage wasn't much, just a suitcase and a laptop. This place was so run-down that I thought I had been sent to the middle of nowhere. Among the low houses, the eighteen-story building stood out conspicuously. From about the seventh floor upwards, it hadn't been renovated. It looked like an unfinished sketch.

There wasn't even a security guard downstairs. An old beggar sat at the entrance, shaking his head. When he saw me, he was shocked. "This place is haunted, young lady. You shouldn't live here."

"It's fine. I'm so poor, even ghosts would pity me. If I move in, it'll be the ghosts who'll be disturbed," I replied with a kind smile and then carried my luggage into the rusty elevator.

The elevator doors closed heavily, like a coffin lid closing, making me shudder. The apartment was on the fourth floor. Although the exterior was dilapidated, the interior was surprisingly new, with some basic furniture. There was even a faint chemical smell.

Looking at the empty apartment, I felt a mix of bitterness and amusement. How had I ended up like this? I tossed my luggage aside and collapsed onto the bed, falling into a deep sleep.

When I woke up, it was already evening. The sky was darkening, and I felt a sense of abandonment, as if the whole world had left me behind. My stomach growled. I picked up my phone to order takeout, only to be greeted by angry messages from my ex-boyfriend.

"It's just ten thousand dollars. Do you have to make such a fuss? You're even threatening to sue me. People like you deserve to get hit by a car!"

"Anyway, I don't have the money. At worst, I'll kill you and go down with you."

"Not replying, huh? Have you already called the police?"

I had a headache. I didn't desperately need the money, but my uncle was critically ill and needed it urgently. Since my parents passed away, he was my only family left. I set the messages to "Do Not Disturb" and went to look for instant noodles, only to find there was no hot water. It never rains but it pours.

No problem, I could eat them dry. As I chewed, I suddenly felt something was off. There was a rustling sound above me, and I froze. The already dim light flickered a few times before going out completely. The air filled with a strong smell of blood, and thick blood oozed from the gaps in the floor tiles.

I hadn't even swallowed the dry noodles when I felt a cold touch on my hand. Looking up, I saw a woman's head hanging from the old ceiling fan, spinning slowly with a thin line of blood trailing down. There was an eerie silence for a few seconds, then the sound of flesh squirming came from all directions.

I grabbed the dry noodles and jumped onto the sofa. Most of the flesh came from the kitchen and bathroom, forming a roughly human shape in front of me. The head from the ceiling fan jumped down to complete the final piece of the puzzle.

I stared in shock, mechanically chewing the dry noodles in my mouth. "Ma'am, do you need help?" I tried to break the silence.

She didn't speak, perhaps a bit shy. I felt it was my responsibility to explain the situation to her. "I'm not a normal person. No, I mean, I am a normal person, but I've seen many like you. You don't need to scare me on purpose. I guess you could say I'm half a friend of the Ghost Realm."

I sensed a bit of confusion from her broken body. The light came back on, revealing a beautiful woman in her thirties with long hair down to her waist, wearing a white nightgown.

"I don't welcome you," she said in a strange voice, hissing slightly.

"There's nothing I can do. I've paid the rent. If you really can't stand it, you could talk to the agent," I suggested kindly.

She couldn't hold back any longer and burst into tears. "You're not human. You have no sympathy. Do you know how miserable I am?"

And so, she began pouring out her sorrows for three hours. To be honest, I didn't catch much of it except that she was from my hometown. I couldn't get a word in edgewise.

I've heard many ghost stories, and I had to work tomorrow. Realizing this, I decided to interrupt her. "Lady Ghost, as a ghost, you should be more carefree. God once said..."

Chapter 3

The sky erupted with a deafening thunderclap, followed by flashes of lightning and a torrential downpour. The lights, which had just been turned on, flickered and went out again.

As Lady Ghost and I stared in stunned silence, a black mist slipped through the window cracks. It landed on the floor and took shape, plopping down on the sofa.

"Is it some unwritten rule in the Ghost Realm to mess with the lights when making an entrance?" I asked Lady Ghost, who merely shrugged.

"It makes a grand entrance," Timothy said, staring at me with a dejected look. He clinked two beer bottles together and opened them, his face, like a Greek god's statue, etched with sorrow.

"What are you doing here? Did you get promoted?" I asked.

"I got suspended."

As expected, Timothy glanced at Lady Ghost, then at me, and took a few gulps of beer. His Adam's apple bobbed with each swallow. Sensing trouble, I decided to remind him that I had work the next day.

Before I could speak, Timothy sniffled, and tears fell before words could: "I've worked so diligently for so long, always following orders without question. Apart from my poor performance, what did I do to deserve this...?"

Something in his words seemed to strike a chord with Lady Ghost. She, who had just calmed down, started wailing again. The two ghosts cried in turns, their sobs echoing through the room.

I began to wonder if I should get a certification as a ghost therapist. Why did every ghost inexplicably treat me like their therapist?

They ended up staying with me permanently, though their constant crying was quite the disturbance.

Lady Ghost cried enough tears to fill an ocean. Often, in the middle of a meal, she would suddenly stare off into the distance, tears streaming down her beautiful face.

At those times, Timothy would start counseling her, using his work experiences as examples.

Halfway through, he would choke up himself, turning the scene into a chorus of ghostly sobs.

I calmly finished my meal, then went about my routine of bathing, sleeping, and working.

But I had clearly underestimated Timothy's influence. One day, while I was overwhelmed with spreadsheets, my manager brought someone over. Amid the chatter of my colleagues, I looked up to see Timothy grinning and winking at me.

"This is our new colleague in the sales department. Let's give him a warm welcome."

I clapped mechanically.

He eagerly sat down next to me.

"Hello."

"What are you doing here?" I whispered.

"I'm a civil servant in the Ghost Realm. Creating a new identity is a piece of cake," he said, spreading his hands with a somewhat sly expression.

Timothy was always eye-catching, whether as a human or a ghost, mainly because of his strikingly handsome face. Initially, colleagues from other departments flocked to see him.

But over time, no one sought him out. Once a handsome guy becomes your colleague, he takes on the everyday grind of the office, making you lose any worldly desires upon seeing him.

Moreover, Timothy's work performance remained abysmal. Gradually, no one but me wanted to work on projects with him.

Carpooling with him every day made me feel like we were living together.

To my surprise, one day I came home to find that Lady Ghost had turned into a great cook.

Lady Ghost had stopped crying recently and seemed much more clear-headed. She even started caring about my daily life, which touched me deeply.

Timothy, eager to impress me, volunteered to cook. Despite Lady Ghost and I trying to dissuade him, we eventually let him go ahead.

Lady Ghost sat on the sofa, watching me gently. I reassured her, "It's okay. If it goes wrong, we can just order takeout."

No sooner had I spoken than a loud "bang!" resounded through the house.

My kitchen had exploded.