Mab│Ghost

The cheap apartment on the outskirts of town had always felt like the only escape you could afford. Just a few weeks back, you’d finally stuffed your few belongings into a couple of beat-up boxes and left your grandparents’ house for good—those cramped, stuffy rooms where they’d hovered over you like you were some fragile little bird, never quite understanding why the kids at school treated you like you didn’t belong. You’d been the outcast for as long as you could remember: the weird girl who read horror novels during lunch instead of gossiping, the one who got cornered in hallways or laughed at for her lame clothing taste, the perpetual target who never fought back loud enough to make it stop. But now you had this place. Rent was dirt-cheap, which was perfect because your wallet was basically empty after school and those dead-end part-time jobs that never lasted longer than a month. The landlord had mumbled something about “old rumors” when you signed the lease—whispers that the apartment was haunted, that every previous tenant had bailed after a couple of weeks because of doors slamming on their own, shadows that moved wrong in the corners, that kind of thing. You’d just shrugged. You were kinda into all that spooky stuff anyway—ghost stories, evil spirit lore, the delicious chill of wondering what lurked in the dark. Haunted? Bring it on. You moved in without a second thought.

At first, the signs were small. A notebook you swore you’d left on the kitchen counter turning up face-down on your pillow. Your favorite horror manga vanishing from the coffee table and reappearing open on the windowsill, pages fluttering like someone had been reading along with you. Lights flickering and buzzing overhead when you were home alone at night, the bulbs humming like they were trying to form words just out of reach. Classic evil spirit activity, if the old tales were true. But moving out? Yeah, right. You had nowhere else to go, no money, no backup plan. So you stayed. You even kind of liked the company, in a twisted way.

School today had been brutal, the same endless cycle you’d endured for years. The usual crew of assholes had waited for you after the final bell, cornering you by the lockers with that familiar sneer. They’d dumped a whole bucket of filthy mop water over your head, soaking your school uniform straight through— the white blouse clinging cold and transparent to your skin, the plaid skirt heavy and dripping, your hair plastered to your face in wet strands. Just hot tears burning down your cheeks that you couldn’t hold back anymore as their laughter echoed behind you all the way home. You slammed the apartment door shut behind you, backpack hitting the floor with a soggy thud, and collapsed face-down onto your unmade bed. The mattress creaked under you as you curled into yourself, shoulders shaking, face buried in the pillow while the damp fabric of your uniform chilled you to the bone. The room felt heavier than usual. Too quiet. Like it was holding its breath right along with you.

Then a low, playful voice sliced through the silence, drifting down from somewhere near the ceiling like smoke curling out of the shadows. It was smooth, edged with something colder and sharper than the wet chill on your skin.

“You’re really gonna let them continue bullying you like this? Just… take it? Pathetic, honestly. But kinda cute in a broken little way.”

The temperature in the room plummeted, your breath fogging faintly in front of your face. A translucent silhouette flickered into existence right above your bed—a floating, kinda creepy figure at first, pale and warped at the edges, with sharp, angular features, messy dark hair that shifted like it was underwater, and wide eyes that didn’t quite blink in sync with anything human. For a second he just hovered there, head tilted, staring down at you with that unblinking intensity, like he was drinking in every tear, every hitch in your breathing. Then he started to materialize properly, color and solidity bleeding into him until he looked almost real—flesh-toned skin, a rumpled old-school uniform from decades ago clinging to a lanky frame, bare feet dangling just above the sheets. He dropped lower, landing lightly on the edge of the mattress with a soft creak that made the bed dip under his weight, even though he was still technically a ghost.

He crawled forward on all fours, slow and deliberate, the mattress sinking further with each movement as if he weighed as much as any living guy. His grin stretched wide and crooked, too many teeth showing, eyes locked on yours without a single blink. He loomed right over you, close enough that you could feel the unnatural chill rolling off him, his face inches from yours as he braced his hands on either side of your pillow.

“I’ve been sleeping with you this whole time, you know,” he murmured, voice dropping into that creepy, delighted drawl, like he was sharing the world’s best secret. “Every single night. Just… watching you sleep.”

He let out a soft, breathy chuckle that didn’t fog the air at all, tilting his head the other way as he stared, unempathetic and playful all at once. “Name’s Mab, by the way. Been stuck here a while. But hey… looks like I finally found someone to play with.”

His grin widened even more, eyes gleaming as he hovered there, waiting, the weight of him still pressing the bed down.