Alice wasn’t a foolish girl. Maybe still a little unseasoned, not always fully attuned to this complicated world, but definitely not foolish. Every decision she made, she thought through first. She knew she couldn’t draw attention to herself. Not yet. She was a student, and students, by definition, weren’t supposed to have much cash. At first, she considered applying for a dorm room, but after a thorough assessment of her situation, she realized she wasn’t in any rush to live there. Too many people around, and that was the last thing she needed right now. She already had her goals, and getting chummy with others felt like a pointless, hollow gesture. It wasn’t like she planned to form lifelong friendships with these people. All she wanted was peace and quiet, a diploma, and time to figure out her next steps in life. With that in mind, she rented a small apartment.

  “So, you’re a student, huh?” the woman asked, her tone as unpleasant as her appearance.

  Alice looked at her, not bothering to hide her distaste. The landlady handed her the keys, gave her a contemptuous once-over, then smacked her bright red lips together in visible disapproval.

  “I am,” Alice replied, taking the keys.

  There was nothing more to say. The woman, thin, aging, with bleached blonde hair and a neckline that revealed far more than it should, clearly didn’t like her. The feeling was mutual. No sense pretending otherwise.

  “And where exactly do you get the money for an apartment if you don’t work?”

  “Since when are we on a first-name basis?”

  The blonde opened her mouth in exaggerated offense, took a deep breath, preparing for a long tirade, but she didn’t get the chance to deliver it.

  “Listen here…”

  “I don’t give a fuck what you think,” Alice said, gathering the majority of her life energy around her like a shield.

  The cocoon that formed, though invisible, was unmistakably felt, even by someone completely numb to such things. The woman had no idea what had just happened, but she felt it. Suddenly, had the girl grown taller? No, not exactly. It was subtler than that, yet undeniable. The very idea of opposing her, insulting her, resisting her felt genuinely dangerous now.

  “I…” the woman stammered, cold sweat breaking across her forehead.

  Alice pressed in with her energy, forcing submission. And just like that, the landlady yielded without even knowing why.

  “I hope you enjoy living here,” she muttered, before fleeing to the front door and leaving Alice alone in her new, empty apartment.

  Empty. Alice repeated the word in her mind, savoring its flavor. But was it truly empty? That was debatable. There wasn’t much inside those four new walls, but it was enough to live in peace. The couch was old, the cabinets worn, the bed creaky, and the mattress… well, it should’ve been thrown out ages ago. There was a fridge, a working washing machine, a brand-new dishwasher, a stove, and an electric kettle. The bathroom, surprisingly, was the nicest part because it was freshly renovated. To Alice, that room mattered most. The rest just had to function. She could survive on instant noodles and sleep in a sleeping bag on the floor, but there was no way she’d endure a rusty shower or a clogged toilet.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Upgrading or replacing things wasn’t exactly high priority, mostly because her banker still needed time to grow her money. And, to be honest, she was a little too lazy to bother just yet. The girl knew perfectly well this apartment wasn’t permanent. A little patience was all it would take. Maybe a small table and a couple of armchairs, or something to sit by while drinking coffee. Yes. She definitely lacked a table and chairs. That would be her first—and honestly, only—real purchase for the place.

  Not even a week passed. Of course, from the very beginning, she knew she wasn’t alone in the apartment. There was someone. Well, not someone, really. Something. More precisely, a ghost. But it was weak and showed no desire to make itself known, so she respected its privacy, pretending to be blind to the energy that hovered around her. Still, a few days were more than enough to change her mind.

  She was sitting at her new little table, drinking coffee and reading a book, when she sensed the shift. The energy in the room weakened. The ghost was absorbing it. She smiled to herself. He was preparing for something. He, so fragile, so mentally unstable. Yes, this would be interesting. Not wanting to spook her invisible roommate, she casually took a sip of coffee and returned to her reading. The ghost stood behind her. It took her a moment to realize what exactly he was trying to do. Poor thing was attempting to feed on her life force but clearly wasn’t succeeding. She allowed herself a bit of pride: all those hours of training had paid off. She had learned to form a tight barrier around herself. Who would’ve thought that would be the side effect of all those dull, mind-numbing sessions? No, actually, that’s not right. It wasn’t a side effect at all. The Not-a-Doctor had known exactly what would happen. Not that it really mattered now.

  An hour passed. Then another. The ghost was getting nowhere. She almost felt sorry for him. He was so clumsy, so pitiful, Pathetic, even. His time had passed. She gave him a little of her power—maybe a bit more than she’d intended at first—but he still didn’t notice anything unusual in that sudden surge of energy. That didn’t escape Alice’s attention. She figured he was either a bit slow or a total idiot. Blind to the world around him. Either way, not dangerous.

  She finished her coffee, adjusted the flow of power inside her body, and planned to meditate that evening to replenish what she’d lost. With that in mind, she closed her book and set it on the table. She waited. But patience was never her strong suit.

  “I need to work on that,” she thought, watching as the ghost began to materialize beside her.

  He looked about twenty-something. No more. There were clear rope marks around his bluish neck, and his head hung at an odd angle, suggesting a broken neck. His purplish lips moved, though no sound came out. His cloudy eyes fixed on her face.

  “Hello,” she said, tilting her head slightly, observing him with interest.

  The bruising under his eyes had turned almost black, and his pale blonde hair blended with his dead-white skin. He wore jeans and a T-shirt. Sneakers on his feet.

  “A fresh one. You didn’t die long ago, did you?”

  The ghost remained silent, visibly thrown off. Definitely not the reaction he’d expected…