"Exorcism?"
Alice blinked, her single eye visible from the strands of hair widening.
"We don't exorcise Old Man Sam. He's one of us. If you exorcise him, the paranormal Local 666 will lock the building for a century."
"A Unionised Ghost," Julien rubbed his forehead. "Of course. Why would the afterlife be any less political than the Hunter Association?"
"So, what do we do?" Chris asked, lowering his fists but keeping them clenched.
"Do we file a complaint with the church?"
"We pay him," Alice said, moving toward a trapdoor in the corner of the room, hidden under a rug mat from what looked suspiciously like beard hair. "Or, you have to pay him. I'm kinda broke since I spent my last credits on the food."
Julien sighed, pulling out the dark card. [Balance: 8,700 Credits].
"Fine. Five thousand to clear the debt. But after this, Alice, you're working for us. Can you summon undead?"
Alice paused, her hand on the iron lever of the trapdoor. She looked offended at the statement.
"Can I summon undead? I am a Necromancer of the Black Magic! I have communed with the king of hell! I have stared into the abyss until it filed a restraining order against me!"
"Okay, but can you summon a skeleton army?" Chris asked excitedly. "Like in the movies? Clacking bones and everything?"
Alice looked away, muttering into her scarf. "Well... technically... spirits are tricky. I can only summon where the spiritual activity is strong. Or if there's a really good combo involved."
"So you can't just summon a zombie right now?" Julien pressed.
"I could summon a hamster," Alice offered weakly. "Mr Stuart died in the wall three years ago. His spirit is very restless. He bites hard."
"Great," Julien deadpanned. "We have a hamster necromancer. Chris, add 'Rodent Defence' to our list of services."
"Noted," Chris nodded solemnly.
'Stop noting, idiot.'
Alice huffed and pushed the trapdoor open.
A gust of cold air hit their face, smelling of decayed furniture. The darkness below seemed to swallow the light from the room.
"He's down there," Alice whispered. "Don't mention his bald spot. He's sensitive about it."
They slowly moved down the stairs. The wood here wasn't just creaky; it felt soft, like a rotting sponge.
Shadows danced on the walls, forming into shapes that looked like grasping hands from Nosferatu.
"This is definitely where people die in horror movies," Chris whispered. "Julien, if I die, delete my browser history."
"You don't have a computer, Chris."
"Delete my mental browser history."
At the bottom of the stairs was a heavy iron door.
It was covered in rust and glowing letters that spelt out: [RENT DUE].
"Mr Sam?" Alice called out, her voice trembling slightly. "I brought... investors for a proposition!"
The letters started glowing red. The door didn't creak open.
Instead, a ghostly figure phased through it.
Old Man Sam looked exactly like a stereotypical landlord, but transparent and floating. He wore a white vest, tiny reading glasses, and held a clipboard that glowed with blue fire.
"ALICE!" The ghost roared. His voice echoed not in their ears, but in their skulls. "IT IS THE FIRST OF THE MONTH. WHERE IS MY MONEY? DO YOU THINK ECTOPLASM GROWS ON TREES?"
"I... I..." Alice squeaked, hiding behind Chris.
"Who are these... living things?" Sam drifted closer, sniffing the air. "They smell of... warmth. And poor financial decisions."
"Hey!" Julien stepped forward, holding up the dark card. "We're the new tenants. And we're here to settle the dues."
Sam moved closer to the card floating. He adjusted his spectral glasses.
"Five thousand credits," Sam hissed. "Plus late fees. Plus, the emotional damage of dealing with her hamster."
"Five thousand flat," Julien negotiated, his [Streetwise] pinging.
[Target: Old Man Sam (Spirit/Landlord).]
[Weakness: Greed.]
[Desire: To move on to the 'Great Heaven in the Sky'.]
"Take it or leave it," Julien said firmly. "Or we call an Exorcist. Not a Union one. A freelancer. With a vacuum cleaner. It's trending these days"
Sam recoiled. "A freelancer? You wouldn't dare."
"Try me."
Sam grumbled. He reached out a ghostly hand for payment.
Julien tapped the card against the clipboard.
BING.
[Transaction Complete: -5,000 Credits.]
[Remaining Balance: 3,700 Credits.]
Sam sighed, a sound like a deflating balloon. His angry red aura turned a peaceful blue.
"Finally," Sam whispered. "I can go. The Gambling Hall in the Afterlife awaits. Goodbye, Alice. Try to keep the home clean."
And with a pop, he vanished into nothingness.
"He's gone," Alice cheered. "We did it! Free housing from now!"
"Wait," Chris said, pointing at the iron door Sam had come from. "If he's gone... why are the letters still glowing?"
Julien looked.
The [RENT DUE] runes had faded, but new ones were appearing.
Red, angry, zig-zag runes that looked like scratches.
[DANGER]
[KEEP OUT]
[DO NOT FEED]
"Alice," Julien said slowly. "Did Sam live in the basement?"
"No," Alice said, tilting her head. "Sam lived in the attic. He just came down here to yell at the... thing."
"The... thing?" Julien asked.
"The thing in the sub-basement," Alice clarified. "Sam said he rented the bottom floor to a 'quiet tenant' forty years ago. He never saw him come out ever."
A low growl vibrated through the floorboards. It wasn't a hungry stomach growl.
It was the sound of a beast growling.
"Chris," Julien whispered. "Keep your God Punch ready?"
"I don't have a 'God Punch'," Chris whispered back, sweat beading on his forehead. "I just shout 'GOD!' before I punch. It adds power to my hands."
"Well, get the flavour ready."
Julien pushed the iron door open.
It wasn't a basement but a cave.
The floor had been dug out, revealing raw earth and stone. In the corner, huddled against the wall, was a figure.
It was tall. Impossibly tall, limbs were elongated and thin, covered in skin that looked burned and blackened like cooking wood. Its body stood facing the corner, twitching.
[Streetwise Analysis]
[Target: Unknown Entity.]
[Rank: Error.]
[Status: Hungry.]
'This is dangerous.'
"Hello?" Julien called out. "We're the new management. We have a strict no-eating-the-tenants policy."
The figure stopped twitching.
Slowly, painfully, it began to turn, revealing its face.
"GOD!" Chris screamed, gathering up a punch that glowed with blue mana.
He launched himself forward, a missile of muscle and panic.
"WAIT!" Alice shrieked.
Chris stopped his fist an inch from the figure's head. The force of the air pressure blew the figure's hood back.
It wasn't a monster.
It was a skeleton. A literal skeleton, wearing a robe. But inside the ribcage, a small, glowing blue orb pulsed weakly.
"A Lich?" Julien asked.
"No," Alice walked past Chris, her eyes wide. "A construct. A failed one."
She touched the bone. "This isn't the tenant. This is... a bait."
Suddenly, a sound came from the other corner of the room. A soft, wet slap-slap-slap sound.
"If that's the trap," Chris whispered, backing away from the skeleton. "Then what is it guarding?"
They turned.
In the darkest corner, something was moving. It looked like a pile of laundry until the laundry stood up.