Chapter 1: The New House, The New Trouble

"This house is not haunted at all! Absolutely not!" the landlord said with a nervous laugh.

Ayaan looked up at his new home—a grand but eerily quiet old mansion. The doors creaked on their own, the windows were covered in a thick layer of dust, and a strange chill seemed to be coming from inside.

"I was expecting a nice, modern apartment… but this looks straight out of a horror movie," Ayaan muttered under his breath.

The landlord cleared his throat. "Ah, well, it's got… character! Very spacious, old-world charm, you know. And the price is the best you'll get in this city."

Ayaan narrowed his eyes. "Why is it so cheap, though?"

The landlord’s nervous smile widened. "Uh… the previous owners had to leave suddenly. Personal reasons. Nothing to do with, um, ghosts or anything."

Ayaan sighed. He didn’t believe in ghosts. What he did believe in was saving money. And this house was an absolute steal.

"Fine," he said, grabbing the keys. "I'll take it."

First Night: Who Ordered a Ghost?

After a long day of shifting his stuff in, Ayaan collapsed onto the couch. The house was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that made you feel like someone was watching you.

"Nah," he muttered to himself. "I'm just tired."

Just as he was about to drift off to sleep—

CRASH!

A sudden noise from the kitchen made him jump. Ayaan grabbed his phone, turned on the flashlight, and walked in cautiously.

The kitchen was empty… except for a broken cup on the floor. He frowned. "Did I leave it near the edge?"

He bent down to pick up the pieces.

"You're in my house."

A voice, smooth yet chilling, echoed behind him.

Ayaan spun around so fast he almost tripped. But there was no one there.

His heart pounded. "Okay. Either I’m officially sleep-deprived, or I just got my first ghostly encounter."

And then—

A figure stepped out of the shadows.

A tall, slender man, dressed in black, with an unnervingly beautiful face. His pale skin seemed to glow faintly under the moonlight. His eyes—dark, deep, and unreadable—locked onto Ayaan’s.

Ayaan blinked. Then blinked again.

"Whoa," he muttered. "If this is a ghost, he’s way too attractive for his own good."

The ghost tilted his head. "You're not screaming."

Ayaan crossed his arms. "Should I? You’re standing dramatically in the moonlight like some lost vampire prince. If you wanted to scare me, maybe try floating or making creepy noises?"

The ghost's lips twitched as if he was amused. "You’re strange."

"And you’re dead. So we both have our problems."

The ghost stared at him for a moment before whispering, "You shouldn’t be here."

Ayaan frowned. "Why?"

The ghost’s expression darkened. "Because this house has secrets. And if you stay, they will consume you too."

Ayaan gulped. "…Well, crap."

—

End of Chapter 1

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Chapter 2: The Ghost Who Won’t Leave (Or Maybe I Won’t)

Ayaan stood frozen, his heartbeat hammering in his ears. He had seen horror movies before—this was the part where the protagonist either screamed or ran out of the house like a maniac.

But Ayaan? He just sighed.

"Look, I just moved in. I signed a lease, paid the deposit. I even bought a damn coffee machine. I’m not leaving," he said, rubbing his temples. "So, unless you’re planning to haunt me 24/7, we need to figure something out."

The ghost’s dark eyes narrowed. "You don’t understand. This house is dangerous."

"Yeah, I got that from the creepy whispering and shadowy appearance you just did. Very dramatic, by the way." Ayaan crossed his arms. "But what’s actually dangerous? The weird noises? The flickering lights? Or is it something worse?"

The ghost didn’t answer right away. Instead, he took a step forward, moving unnaturally smoothly—like a shadow gliding over the floor.

Ayaan instinctively stepped back. "Okay, first rule—no sneaking up on me like that. You’re already dead; no need to make me die of a heart attack."

The ghost’s lips curled into something that could have been a smirk. "You’re not afraid of me."

"Should I be?"

Instead of answering, the ghost suddenly vanished.

Ayaan blinked. "Hey, wait—"

"Behind you."

A cold breath tickled his ear. Ayaan yelped and spun around, but the ghost had already disappeared again.

"Okay, okay! I get it! You’re trying to freak me out. Congrats, you succeeded," Ayaan huffed. "But I still have a contract, so unless you plan to start paying rent, I’m staying."

Silence.

Then—

"You’re an idiot," the ghost murmured, reappearing a few feet away.

"Yeah, I get that a lot." Ayaan sighed. "So, do you have a name, or should I just call you ‘Mister Tall, Dark, and Creepy’?"

The ghost’s expression darkened. "I don’t remember."

Ayaan’s eyebrows shot up. "You don’t remember your own name?"

The ghost’s gaze flickered toward the large staircase in the middle of the house. "I don’t remember… anything. Only that I died here. And something is keeping me from moving on."

Ayaan paused. Well, that’s definitely worse than I expected.

"So, you’re stuck here?"

The ghost nodded. "And if you stay… you might be too."

Things That Shouldn’t Happen in a Normal House

Despite the ominous warning, Ayaan decided to stay. It wasn’t just about the cheap rent anymore—there was something about the ghost that intrigued him.

Over the next few days, Ayaan learned a few important things:

The ghost could touch things. His coffee mug would move. His blanket would mysteriously end up on the floor. His toothpaste would be squeezed out by itself.

The ghost could be a little… possessive. Every time Ayaan tried to leave the house, doors would mysteriously slam shut, or the keys would disappear.

The house itself was getting weirder. Shadows moved where they shouldn’t. Whispering sounds came from empty rooms. And sometimes, just sometimes, he felt a presence behind him… only to turn and find nothing.

And then there was the biggest problem of all.

The Ghost Was Getting More… Human

It started small. At first, the ghost barely spoke. Then, he started appearing more often—leaning against walls, watching Ayaan as he worked. And then, one night, something truly bizarre happened.

Ayaan was lying in bed, trying to sleep, when—

The bed dipped slightly.

His heart stopped.

"Did you just sit on my bed?" he asked, keeping his voice calm.

Silence.

Then—

"Maybe," the ghost whispered.

Ayaan groaned. "Listen, dude. I get that you’re dead and lonely, but personal space still applies."

A soft chuckle. "You’re warm."

Ayaan nearly choked on his own breath. "I—what?!"

"You’re warm," the ghost repeated, his voice quieter this time. "I forgot how that feels."

Ayaan pulled the blanket up over his head. "Nope. Not dealing with this tonight."

The ghost didn’t move.

Ayaan peeked out from under the blanket. "Are you—are you watching me sleep?"

More silence. Then—

"Maybe."

Ayaan let out a long, suffering sigh. "I live with a clingy ghost. Great. Just great."

From the corner of the room, the ghost smiled.

And Ayaan had a strange feeling—one he really, really shouldn’t be having.

End of Chapter 2

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Chapter 3: Living with a Ghost (And Possibly Flirting with One?)

Ayaan was starting to regret all his life choices.

Not because he had moved into a haunted house—he had already made peace with that. Not because the ghost had no name—mystery was part of the charm.

No, his real problem was that the ghost was getting comfortable.

And way too familiar.

Take this morning, for example.

Ayaan had just woken up, stretching lazily in bed, when—

"Good morning."

A deep, smooth voice murmured right next to his ear.

Ayaan yelped and nearly fell off the bed. "WHY ARE YOU IN MY BED?!"

The ghost sat cross-legged at the foot of the mattress, looking far too amused. "I was bored."

Ayaan ran a hand down his face. "You’re a ghost. Don’t you have ghostly things to do? Like… floating around menacingly? Haunting mirrors? Scaring intruders?"

The ghost tilted his head. "I like this better."

Ayaan squinted. "You mean…annoying me?"

The ghost smirked. "Exactly."

Ayaan groaned. "I should’ve moved into an apartment."

The Rules of Living with a Ghost (That He Completely Ignores)

After that, Ayaan decided some ground rules were necessary.

No appearing in my bedroom unannounced.

(This rule was broken within two hours.)

No touching my stuff.

(His coffee mug mysteriously hovered toward him every morning.)

No watching me sleep.

(Ghost’s response: “But you look peaceful.”)

No stealing my food.

(Ghost doesn’t eat, but somehow, his snacks still disappeared.)

No unnecessary touching.

(Ghost started leaning against him every time he sat on the couch.)

Ayaan had no idea how he ended up in this situation. Wasn’t a haunted house supposed to be scary? Why did it feel like he was dealing with an overly attached ghost roommate instead?

A New Discovery: The Ghost Has a Name?

A few nights later, something strange happened.

Ayaan was in the study, flipping through old books he had found in the attic, when a piece of paper slipped out of one of them.

It was an old, faded letter.

Curious, he unfolded it.

"…I don’t know how much longer I can stay here. The whispers are getting louder. They say his name was…"

The rest of the text was too smudged to read. But Ayaan’s fingers tightened around the paper.

"His name?"

He looked up. The ghost stood by the window, staring out at the night sky, his face unreadable.

"Hey," Ayaan called. "I think I found something about you."

The ghost turned, his dark eyes locking onto the letter in Ayaan’s hand.

For the first time, there was something in his expression that almost looked like fear.

Ayaan felt a strange chill run down his spine.

What was he about to uncover?

And why did it feel like the ghost didn’t want him to?

—

End of Chapter 3

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