Translator:
Irene_
Editor:
Perriemix
Wait, is it really not you? We’re certain that the sounds are coming from your unit,
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.
Why is the rent so cheap?
Isn’t that a good thing?
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.
When 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.
Good things don’t 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.
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.
That’s the one. It was all over the television news that day.
What happened after?
I asked.
Later on, the girl kept crying in her room. The truck driver was a gambling addict who owed tons of money and couldn’t 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.
Wait. Someone died in here and you’re renting it to me?
I asked in shock.
What’s the big deal? I’m 63 and haven’t seen anything. I’m already renting it out at such a cheap price. Whether you’ll stay or not, it’s up to you.
Give me a refund. I’m leaving.
I don’t do refunds. Not for down payment, not for rent,
she informed me.
I’ve only been staying here for a little over a week. Plus, you’re in the wrong for concealing something like this. How can you do this?
I asked, indignant.
Do you remember the agreement that we signed? It has stated clearly that there won’t be any refund. It’s so much cheaper here than other rentals. You should take that into consideration,
she spoke righteously.
But there’s a ghost in here!
I raised my voice.
Ghost? Did she do anything to you? I’ll say it again; whether you want to stay or not, it’s up to you,
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 I’ve 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.
Glad you realized what a bargain this place is, young man. Good call.
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 they’d shared before their deaths.
A few nights later, the moanings stopped.
I mumbled,
Thanks for the company.
It looked like their souls have departed. It’s been such a long time, after all, they couldn’t 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 couldn’t stand it. They banged on my wall repeatedly.
I couldn’t 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.
They’re ghosts, aren’t they? I wasn’t afraid.
No way? What’s going on?
Haven’t they always been doing it for two hours?
Why’s this guy so weak? Just one minute?
Their conversation shocked me even more.
This house is great, hubby.
Yeah, and it’s so cheap. We can use the remaining money to get a car.
Sounds good. Go rest for a little while I go take a look. There seems to be a kitchen so I’ll whip something up for you tonight.
Aye, why’s there a spectacle cloth in the cupboard?
The man held my spectacle cloth up.
I touched my face. I’m seeing clearly without my glasses.
I walked out of the house smiling.
The sun shone down on me but I produced no shadow.
And I’m fading. I quickly returned to my unit.
I understood now.
I remembered now.
I’m already dead.
I was infected by the woman’s 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.
