Chapter 2
Chapter 2
I wanted to call the agent and ask what was really going on, but I knew deep down he’d never admit to anything.
After all, the money had already been handed over. Getting it back would be harder than climbing to heaven.
Still, I didn’t actually want to move out.
Finding such a nice apartment at such a low price was something I wouldn’t even dare dream of in this city. Aside from being a bit far from the city center, it didn’t have a single flaw.
And since I didn’t need to go to the city for anything other than my regular hospital visits, this was the perfect place to spend my final days.
As for the haunting? Well, I was a dying woman anyway. I’d be a ghost sooner or later myself, so there was really nothing to be afraid of.
I called a home goods store to order a new bathroom mirror.
The moment the clerk heard my address, he refused to come. First, he claimed the distance was too far; then, he said the shop was too busy and they were short-staffed.
They had been perfectly fine a moment ago, so I didn’t believe a word of it. It was only after I offered to double the price that the clerk reluctantly agreed.
That afternoon, the doorbell rang. I went to open it and found a middle-aged man looking visibly flustered-the employee from the store.
He installed the mirror in record time. I thanked him, and seeing the sweat pouring down his face, I thoughtfully handed him a tissue.
“Are you feeling hot, sir?” I asked.
The man wiped his brow and gave me a hesitant look. After a pause, he asked, “Are you renting this place?”
I told him I was.
“Then… have you seen anyone else around here?” he asked. His expression was a mix of fear and bated-breath curiosity.
I shook my head and said no.
Lowering his voice, he said with a shudder, “That’s because every single unit in this complex is a Columbarium.”
“What’s a Columbarium?” I asked.
The man glanced around the living room with a look of superstitious dread. “Just search for it online. This is as much as I can tell you.”
With that, he fled as if he were running for his life.
I hadn’t really noticed until he mentioned it, but in the nearly twenty-four hours since I’d moved in, I hadn’t seen a single living soul in the entire complex.
Then again, “peace and quiet” was exactly what I’d requested before renting. I liked quiet places; I found them enjoyable. It was only now that I realized the silence here was unnervingly eerie.
I soon realized it wasn’t just the building that was quiet. Even in the sweltering heat of midsummer, I couldn’t even hear the sound of cicadas in the neighborhood.
I searched the term “Columbarium” online.
A string of news articles popped up. I clicked on one and scanned through it, only then learning that these were apartments specifically purchased to store cremated remains.
This usually happened for two reasons:
1. Cemetery plots were too expensive for many people to afford.
2. People wanted their deceased family members to have a home with better conditions.
I figured this complex fell into the second category, as the property prices here were incredibly high-far beyond the reach of the average working class.
My unit in particular was luxuriously renovated with impeccable taste. It was clearly the work of a professional designer, and all the furniture and appliances were high-end brands.
According to the agent, the owners were an elderly couple in their sixties who had recently gone abroad on vacation. Given their age, the ashes stored here likely belonged to their son or daughter.
But if they had specifically set this place up to house remains, why rent it out? Weren’t they afraid of disturbing the dead?
I was now certain that there was something else in this house besides me. After a moment of reflection, I spoke loudly to the empty room:
“I know you want me to leave, but I’ve already paid the rent. Besides, your parents are the ones who rented it out, so don’t blame me, okay?”
No one answered. The house was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
Where was it hiding now?
How do ghosts spend their time?
I couldn’t help but feel curious.