Translator: Irene_ Editor: Perriemix
âWait, is it really not you? Weâre certain that the sounds are coming from your unit,â the man said.
I took a few steps back.
Panicking, I left the restaurant.
Something was fishy.
I went straight to the house to look for the landlady.
âWhy is the rent so cheap?â
âIsnât that a good thing?â
I pressed on and she finally told me a story.
A couple used to stay in my unit
They were from another part of the country.
âWhen they first moved in, the house was only semi-finished. They started decorating the place a few days after settling in. They were an extremely loving couple. The sounds you mentioned... I know. I know it because the neighbors next door were complaining.â
âGood things donât last, sadly. The man was a delivery guy and was ran over by a truck one day. It turned out, the accident was caught on camera. He was still alive but the driver rolled over him once again before fleeing the scene. He wanted to avoid taking responsibility. How cruel. He was caught after all and sentenced to seven years in jail.â
Upon hearing this story, I whipped out my phone and started doing a search.
I asked for the street name where the accident had occurred.
She mumbled it to me.
Typing it into the search engine, I was quickly able to verify her story.
The crime scene had been captured very clearly.
The truck driver had knocked down a motorcyclist beside his vehicle.
He paused for over ten seconds before accelerating and going over the victim once more.
Exactly what the landlady had relayed.
I showed her the phone screen.
She pointed at it and nodded. âThatâs the one. It was all over the television news that day.â
âWhat happened after?â I asked.
âLater on, the girl kept crying in her room. The truck driver was a gambling addict who owed tons of money and couldnât pay them off. After some time, the neighbors started complaining. They moved out shortly after. I had no choice. I went up to her unit a month later to collect payment. It was then that I found her dangling from the ceiling pillar above the bed.â
âWait. Someone died in here and youâre renting it to me?â I asked in shock.
âWhatâs the big deal? Iâm 63 and havenât seen anything. Iâm already renting it out at such a cheap price. Whether youâll stay or not, itâs up to you.â
âGive me a refund. Iâm leaving.â
âI donât do refunds. Not for down payment, not for rent,â she informed me.
âIâve only been staying here for a little over a week. Plus, youâre in the wrong for concealing something like this. How can you do this?â I asked, indignant.
âDo you remember the agreement that we signed? It has stated clearly that there wonât be any refund. Itâs so much cheaper here than other rentals. You should take that into consideration,â she spoke righteously.
âBut thereâs a ghost in here!â I raised my voice.
âGhost? Did she do anything to you? Iâll say it again; whether you want to stay or not, itâs up to you,â the landlady said firmly and turned her attention back to the television.
I returned to my room.
I no longer had what I had thought would be the start of a stable income.
I was unable to get a refund.
Helpless, I lay on the bed and fell asleep soon after.
I woke up in the middle of the night.
Clap Clap Clap.
I could clearly feel that they were on my bed.
Beside me.
The clip Iâve watched in the day resurfaced in my mind.
It got me thinking.
They would be a perfectly happy couple if not for that accident.
I landed myself another design job.
I got used to them being around and their lingering love.
I could feel their happiness and joy.
On the second month, I paid my rent again.
The landlady smiled at me. âGlad you realized what a bargain this place is, young man. Good call.â
I could only smile. I stayed not because of the price but because of the warmth the two lovers filled the house with.
This unit preserved and constantly replayed the beautiful memories theyâd shared before their deaths.
A few nights later, the moanings stopped.
I mumbled, âThanks for the company.â
It looked like their souls have departed. Itâs been such a long time, after all, they couldnât possibly appear all the time.
My thoughts were proven wrong the next day.
That night, mournful cries echoed throughout the house.
The couple next door couldnât stand it. They banged on my wall repeatedly.
I couldnât bear the pitiful cries but I was unable to stop them. However, I could feel her loneliness and grief.
A month later.
I woke up.
Everything felt like a dream.
The door of my unit was open.
A couple walked in.
They seemed pleased with what they saw.
The landlady walked out of the door with the rent money in her hand.
After locking the door behind them, the couple embraced.
Theyâre ghosts, arenât they? I wasnât afraid.
No way? Whatâs going on?
Havenât they always been doing it for two hours?
Whyâs this guy so weak? Just one minute?
Their conversation shocked me even more.
âThis house is great, hubby.â
âYeah, and itâs so cheap. We can use the remaining money to get a car.â
âSounds good. Go rest for a little while I go take a look. There seems to be a kitchen so Iâll whip something up for you tonight.â
âAye, whyâs there a spectacle cloth in the cupboard?â
The man held my spectacle cloth up.
I touched my face. Iâm seeing clearly without my glasses.
I walked out of the house smiling.
The sun shone down on me but I produced no shadow.
And Iâm fading. I quickly returned to my unit.
I understood now.
I remembered now.
Iâm already dead.
I was infected by the womanâs incessant weeping. Life was bleak.
Half a month later, I followed in her footsteps.
I hung myself in the same spot above the bed.
And upon discovering my death, the landlady had once again rented this unit out to this couple.