Miles spent a sleepless night at home, his eyes heavy and bloodshot from the strain of vigilance. He kept the front door slightly ajar, eager to notice the ghost’s arrival at the earliest moment. But things didn’t unfold as he had imagined. ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ novel★fire.net
“I can’t afford to waste my time waiting for a ghost that might never return. Time has become a luxury to me now,” he reflected, trying to soothe his fatigue-riddled eyes and still his escalating anxiety. The tension of an entire sleepless night had pushed his mind to the edge of sanity.
“Should the ghost fail to show up soon, I must consider alternative options,” Miles decided, standing up from the couch. He then bathed, gathered his belongings, and prepared to venture out.
His first plan was to find a means of survival, if at all possible. If he was bound to meet his end, however, his secondary plan was to secure some financial support for his parents’ future.
With a backpack draped over his shoulder, Miles departed his old apartment building. The sunlight outside was blinding and left him momentarily disoriented.
“It seems ghosts aren’t deterred by daylight,” he mused, feeling the back of his hand. The eye embedded there didn’t react unusually.
This suggested that the ghost could manifest itself during the day, effectively debunking the popular belief that ghosts only materialized at night. Perhaps daylight offered some solace, mitigating the fear their presence could instill.
“Sir, do you buy used phones?” Miles asked, approaching a small mobile phone repair shop along the street.
The shop owner looked up, “I only buy recent models, those released within the last two years.”
“Where’d you get all these? Did you steal them?” The shopkeeper looked suspicious, eyeing Miles skeptically as he sifted through the various smartphone models.
“My friends didn’t want them anymore and gave them to me. Besides, who could possibly steal phones this new? Sir, give me a quote. If it’s fair, I’ll sell you all of them,” Miles responded.
The shop owner appraised the devices, acknowledging their value. Each phone was new and could easily sell for two to three thousand in the market. Some could fetch a price as high as seven or eight thousand.
He started bartering, “This one’s not worth much, I’ll give you three hundred. This one’s in good shape, I’ll pay one thousand. I’ll take this one for one thirteen hundred.”
Suddenly, one of the phones on the counter began to ring.
Miles glanced at it. The caller ID read: Dad.
Only heaven knew whose classmate’s father was calling.
“The owner’s looking for their phone,” the shopkeeper smirked. “If they know I have it, I’ll be in trouble. I’ll pay five hundred for this one.”
With that, he attempted to turn off the phone.
Miles intercepted it and replied, “It’s not the owner. It’s a friend’s dad.”
“Hello?” A middle-aged man’s voice echoed from the other side, “Is this Miles?”
“Yes, it’s me. May I know who’s speaking?” Miles asked.
“This is Mr. Beach, Coral’s father. It seems you have Coral’s phone. I need to discuss something with you. Would it be possible to meet in person?” Mr. Beach said.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Beach, I’ve been tied up recently. It’s not really convenient,” Miles responded.
“I promise it won’t take much of your time. Can you tell me where you are? I can come and pick you up,” Mr. Beach offered.
“If there’s something you need to discuss, Mr. Beach, you can just tell me over the phone. I’m afraid I’m too busy to meet up right now,” Miles replied.
There was a pause before Mr. Beach finally said, “It’s regarding my daughter, Coral. Are you aware of the incident at school?”
“Do you mean the ghost incident that Coral spoke about?” Miles asked.
The mention of a ghost incident momentarily stunned Mr. Beach. Was it really possible that such outlandish events were occurring?
“Ghosts at school? Do high school students still believe in such stories?” He asked skeptically.
“I wasn’t a believer before, but I am now,” Miles confessed. “What happened to Coral? Did she encounter another ghost?”
Mr. Beach sighed, “She’s been quite nervous lately, always feeling like she’s being watched or followed. Coral mentioned you might be able to help.”
“Something’s following her?” Miles pondered. “Could it be a baby ghost?”
A baby ghost? Mr. Beach suddenly recalled the baby handprints in their bathroom.
“Do you think my house is haunted?”
Mr. Beach continued, “I need you to take this matter seriously. Please don’t make light of it with ghost stories. Coral isn’t well, and if you know something, we need the truth. In exchange, you will be compensated.”
He was a successful businessman, and he wouldn’t buy into these groundless ghost tales.
Miles fell into deep thought.
From Mr. Beach’s tone, he could infer that Coral had indeed had a ghostly encounter.
It was highly possible it was the baby ghost that had escaped from the school.
But that didn’t add up.
Though not as menacing as the ghost of the old man knocking at the door, the baby ghost was a dangerous entity. Coral was just an ordinary girl. If she had really encountered it, she wouldn’t likely be alive now.
Ghosts weren’t known to negotiate before striking.
“Hello, are you still there?” Mr. Beach’s voice broke through Miles’ contemplation.
Snapping back to reality, Miles said, “I can help Coral, but it’s not a simple task. After the previous incident, I barely escaped the school alive, and that was when I was assisting your daughter without expecting any payment. This time, I’m not prepared to do it as a favor or for free. So, Mr. Beach, what’s your offer? How much are you willing to pay to resolve this issue?”
There was a brief silence on the other end before Mr. Beach said, “If you can help Coral get back to normal, I’m prepared to pay you a private fee of twenty thousand dollars. However, if you’re unable to assist her, you won’t receive a dime.”
Much to his surprise, Miles, this young student, displayed a worldly wisdom well beyond his years, insisting on receiving payment for his help. This unforeseen demand hardened Mr. Beach’s tone considerably.
“Twenty thousand? I had expected a figure around two hundred. I’m afraid twenty thousand is too low. The risk involved in this matter is enormous. It’s not as straightforward as you may believe. If I don’t step in, it’s not only Coral who could be in danger. Your entire family might be at risk. The entity we’re up against doesn’t discriminate when it decides to strike,” Miles replied.
In order to confront the baby ghost, he would need to summon the power of a vengeful spirit, which might speed up its awakening process. Essentially, he would be risking his life to help.
While noble in nature, self-sacrifice doesn’t pay bills, and considering the apparent wealth of Coral’s family, he saw no reason to undervalue his assistance.
“What about fifty thousand?” Mr. Beach offered.
“Mr. Beach, I’m not sure you fully comprehend the standard charges for such services. Comparable cases abroad begin at five million dollars. However, I’m a reasonable man. Given our status as classmates, I’m willing to settle for five hundred thousand,” Miles put forth sincerely.
“Damn it, five hundred thousand? Are you out of your mind? And you have the audacity to justify it on the grounds of being classmates!” Mr. Beach, usually a mild-mannered man, found himself losing his temper over such an outrageous suggestion.
Laughing, Miles replied, “Mr. Beach, there’s no need for anger. While I understand that five hundred thousand may sting, it’s not an insurmountable amount for you, especially when you consider that your house alone is worth over four million. I suggest you mull over my proposal and get back to me. And I’d urge you to do so promptly.”
“Because if you delay, it might be too late for either Coral or me. My time is running out, and I have a mother to provide for. To earn this money from you, I’d be putting my life on the line. This isn’t a simple matter. If it gets too late, no amount of money can rectify the situation. Also, for future communication, please use my other number as the calls are free.”
After sharing his alternate contact details, Miles ended the call.
“Friend, for all these phones, I can offer you five thousand dollars,” proposed the shopkeeper at that moment.
Miles frowned, “Is that all? Are you pulling my leg, boss?”
“These phones aren’t worth much. And the newest one, the one with the fruit logo, is a counterfeit,” the shopkeeper clarified. “Don’t believe me? I can open it up and show you.”
And with that, he proceeded to take apart the phone, revealing it was indeed a fake.
Did he really think Miles wouldn’t know if William’s phone was genuine or not?
Miles’s expression darkened, “Boss, you didn’t switch the phones while I was on the call, did you?”
“I run a legitimate business. I would never resort to such a tactic. Your phone is clearly a knockoff. If you don’t want to sell it, take it back. I won’t purchase the others either.”
The shopkeeper’s demeanor changed instantly, waving Miles away dismissively.
Miles rose to his feet, grabbing the man’s collar. His eyes, riddled with bloodshot veins, glowed a faint red, reflecting a chilling indifference, “You deceitful merchant, are you courting death? If you want to die, just say so. You’ve stepped way out of line trying to swindle me.”
The shopkeeper looked into Miles’s eyes and felt a shiver down his spine.
Were those the eyes of a human?
They were cold, void of emotion, emanating an uncanny, disturbing aura.