Don't Rent A House Where Someone Died

After I graduated, I rented an apartment that was approximately 650 square feet.

Before I rented it, the agent told me that there had been a fire incident in the place, and someone had died. It was later converted into an apartment building.

But I did not mind it. After all, the rent was cheap, and the decor was simple. The only problem was that the soundproofing was bad.

A couple lived in No. 303. Whenever the sun went down, the wife would start moaning embarrassingly loudly.

But it sounded like the couple next door was arguing tonight, and the fight was getting worse. In the end, the wife’s screams nearly deafened me.

“Did someone die?” I cried out softly. The commotion next door suddenly died down.

It was at this moment that I finally realized what had happened. The soundproofing was terrible, and they could hear all the noise I made too.

‘Oh no…’ My heart leaped to my throat.

The strange silence lasted for about four seconds before I suddenly heard a piercing cry for help.

“Help! He’s going to kill me!”

It was followed by a roar and a few slaps.

I obviously could not see through the wall, but based on the sounds alone, I could guess that the slaps must have drawn blood.

I got up in a panic. I intended to knock on their door to check on the situation.

“Stay out of this, 302! If you talk, I’ll kill you!”

There was a dull thud from the other side of the wall. The man must have punched it! Dust fell on my bed.

I trembled in fear. But after some hesitation, I put on my coat and pushed open the door of my apartment.

I hurried to the apartment next door. The door was not shut tight, and I could see sparks from within.

The wife had been screaming at the top of her lungs just moments ago, but it was eerily quiet at present.

“Anyone there?!” I shouted from the door, but no one answered.

I was puzzled, but then, I heard faint gasps from within.

“Help…” That was a woman’s voice!

Was she really in trouble? My mind went blank for a moment. Gritting my teeth, I pushed open the door and went in to check.

Right in front of me was a black and white photo. It was a memorial photo.

The door to the bedroom was locked, but I saw a key in the keyhole.

I opened the door, and a foul stench of blood immediately attacked my senses.

I felt sick and flipped the switch to turn on the lights.

But the light did not turn on.

I flipped it again, but there was still no change.

“Get me out…” the wife said. This time, her voice sounded right beside my feet.

I could not see her. I could only ask, “Did you fall?”

When I crouched down and reached out, my fingertips touched something warm and sticky.

The sensation was disgusting. It felt like flesh that had been stripped of skin.

The foul stench of blood was suffocating, and I stumbled a few steps back. The memorial photo outside swayed as I bumped into the cupboard where it was placed.

I saw a torchlight beside the memorial photo, and I got up and grabbed it. When I turned around, I felt my breath hitch in my throat.

There was a woman in the room. She knelt on the floor as she stared at me from the darkness. Half of her face had been cut off, and blood flowed from it. The blood I touched had already congealed on my fingers.

“I told you. Stay out of this!”

A man’s hoarse voice came from behind the woman. Under the dim light, the woman’s head slowly split open, like a splattered watermelon.

When the woman’s head was split open, I saw the man’s face.

A sword pierced through the woman’s chest and stabbed into my own body.