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."