I'm a real estate agent who specializes in haunted houses. In three years on the job, I've handled seventy-seven homes where people have died.
Other people are terrified of haunted houses, but I made enough money selling them to buy a car and a home, and establish myself in this first-tier city. My mentor says haunted houses come in all kinds, and the most dangerous aren't places of sudden death or murder, but those haunted by wronged souls who refuse to leave because of their obsessions. I never believed in ghosts or gods. I only believed in low prices and huge profits, until I took on a haunted apartment on the top floor in the city center, where three owners had died.
The first owner fell from the building late at night. His body got caught on the balcony railing and wasn't found until three days later. The second owner hanged himself in the bedroom, the rope suspended from the chandelier, swaying gently whenever the wind blew. The third owner's death was the strangest: he vanished into thin air. The security cameras only caught him walking into the apartment, never coming out. There was no blood, no sign of a struggle, as though he had simply vanished from the face of the earth.
The landlord offered a rock-bottom price, promising to double my commission if I sold it within a month. For my seriously ill younger sister, I gritted my teeth and took the job. Showings, photos, signing an offer, everything went smoothly. But strange things started happening on the very first night. At three in the morning, the sound of furniture being dragged across the living room came right on time. Blurry handprints kept appearing on the bathroom mirror. Long strands of hair that weren't mine appeared beside my pillow. My phone gallery filled with countless photos of me asleep, all taken from the foot of my bed.
I thought a competitor was behind it. I installed cameras and hired security, but then I saw it in the footage: at three in the morning, my bedroom door opened by itself. A blurry shadow walked into the room, crouched beside the bed, and watched me in silence.
My mentor rushed over. He took one look and went deathly pale. "This isn't a haunted house. It's a place that nourishes souls. The first three owners..."
