The advertisements along the street shine their red flickering lights in the garbage-bag-packed alley. A blaring speaker from the street filled the eerily silent conversation between Florence, Aisling, and Yuze.

Florence held onto her leather briefcase, pushing it towards her chest, gaping at Aisling.

“Tactically, this is not someone else’s apartment.” Aisling sheathed her dagger. Her sparkling eyes stared straight at Florence. “Don’t worry about it because we’ll enter our apartment.”

“Nifty,” Florence said. An image of the metal junk heaped inside the small room that she saw appeared in her mind. “Pardon me, but are you certain this is an apartment?”

“Our apartment?” Yuze asked.

Aisling threw a kick, hitting Yuze’s knee.

Yuze covered her knees. She muffled her squeal, stumbling backward with a smirk. Now, the blood soaked through the entire bandage tied around her left thigh.

“That is even worse than breaking into someone else’s apartment,” Florence said.

In tip-toeing steps, Aisling danced toward the flickering red light. She rested her hands behind her back, and her ginger ponytail swayed from side to side.

Florence followed Aisling. But with all the beating Florence suffered, her muscles and nerves screamed. She tripped, falling face-first into the mountain of garbage bags.

Light footsteps got louder and closer to her.

“I really shouldn’t be leaving you alone,” Aisling said, pulling Florence out of the mountain of garbage bags. She placed Florence’s and Yuze’s arms over her shoulders, assisting them both to move slowly.

“Wait, why are we going to your apartment?” Florence asked. “How is this related to our job?”

“So what makes you think this is not gonna be part of our job?”

The trash inside a garbage bag rattled, Florence tumbling over it. She raised her eyebrows and blinked at Aisling. Maybe Aisling and Yuze had to make some preparations first. Or, somehow, this apartment had something to do with their supernatural case. But how would Aisling have known that? She’s not a fortune teller who can pinpoint what happens in the future. So why was she so certain their current job was here?

Yuze blinked. “Weasel?”

Aisling wrapped her arm around Yuze’s neck.

Yuze’s face paled. She slapped Aisling’s elbow.

They all turned around the corner, emerging out of the alley and into the empty street. They limped towards the apartment embedded into the skyscraper.

“What should we do now?” Aisling clutched her abdomen. Then she knocked on the dented steel door. “Hello?”

A stream of saliva splashed on the ground as Yuze opened her mouth. “Old,” she said, with her eyes shut half closed.

Aisling coughed, retracting her arm from Yuze’s neck.

The speakers blaring slowly died out, and Florence put her palm on the dented steel door. Suddenly, an electric shock went through her body. Her hand jerked back from the door. She dropped to her knees, shaking uncontrollably.

“What happened,” Aisling said. “It shouldn’t be possible that you… Never mind, just forget about it.”

A tingling numbness lingered throughout Florence’s limbs, and her heart fluttered. Florence wheezed. She stood up with help from Aisling. The small rusted flakes peeling off the door hinges and lock. Still, Florence’s legs trembled, and her muscles were paralyzed from the electrical shock.

“Pardon me, but that is some serious health hazard,” Florence said.

Aisling kicked, denting the steel door. She said, “You see that! We’re making some progress. We just gotta kick it a few more times.” She tugged Florence and Yuze closer, embracing them in her arms.

“This is going to take ages.”

“You wanna suggest a better plan, Florence?”

Florence fell silent. What else could they do to get inside? She scanned the surroundings from top to bottom. However, the only way in was through that dented steel door in front of her.

She took a step back, peering through the glass panel. A sudden brown blur zoomed across the metal junk within the small apartment space. She blinked, but the brown blur disappeared.

“Hey!” Aisling waved her hand. “You’re gonna have to come out soon.”

“I really need those cheaters,” Florence said.

“Florence, why do you wanna have them?”

“Am I seeing things?”

“Nope, you’re not seeing things.”

“So you are telling me that it was a ghost.”

“I guess you can sorta say that.”

A shiver went down Florence’s spine. A ghost? She jumped, shaking the stress building up in her chest.

Aisling grabbed the back of Yuze’s neck, moving motionless Yuze like a puppet.

“Cheer up! All fun,” Aisling said. “No worries. You’ll not die.”

“Absolutely!” Florence burst into laughter.

Aisling cracked a broad smile, releasing her grip on the back of Yuze’s neck.

A rusted flake from the hinges and the lock floated down to the pavement.

“Actually, you might be right, Aisling,” Florence said. “The kicking down your door idea does not sound bad after all.”

“It took you long enough to figure out what I was planning.” Aisling slammed her boot against the door, banging and denting the surface. The hinges and locks snapped. With another powerful kick, the door fell, crashing into the heaps of metal junk inside the apartment.

Florence, Aisling, and Yuze entered the apartment together, limping past the spiral staircase and workbench covered with metal junk.

Aisling whistled. “Unbelievable that my plan actually worked.”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“Pardon me, how do we deal with this ghost?” Florence asked.

“The answer is it depends. Some ghosts are dangerous, and some are harmless. But all of those ghosts… Well, you’ll see them yourself soon enough. Plus, you can tell what they’re like by looking at them.”

“Could you give me an example or something?”

Immediately, Aisling shoved Yuze onto Florence.

“What are you doing?” Florence asked.

“You’re gonna check here, and I’m gonna check upstairs,” Aisling said. She breezed away, each step becoming a leap, waving her hand at Florence.

Florence fell on her bottom. She stretched her arm out, reaching for Aisling, who had climbed the spiral staircase.

“This is ridiculous… I mean wonderful,” Florence said. “So it is just you and me now, Yuze.”

Yuze bobbed her head. Her shoulders slumped forward.

“Yuze?” Florence asked.

Silence rang through the room as Yuze closed her eyes. Her head dipped, drifting to the side.

Florence crawled towards the workbench, carrying Yuze on her back, brushing the heaps of metal junk. She rested Yuze on the workbench, and the coldness and clamminess of Yuze’s skin spread to her.

Yuze breathed in shallow breaths.

“Come on,” Florence said. She opened her leather briefcase, snatching the scissors. She snipped, unraveling the bloodied gauze bandage around Yuze’s left thigh. The soaked dressing pad fell.

The blood burst out from Yuze’s bite wounds. Florence scanned the room for anything useful as she pressed hard on Yuze’s injuries. However, Florence didn’t spot a single first aid kit, thread, or needle anywhere.

“Aisling,” Florence said.

But… Aisling didn’t come.

Time was running out. Without anyone else to help, Florence couldn’t scramble to find the medical equipment or rinse her hands. Now, only an option remained. She reached for her leather briefcase, seizing the gauze bandage roll and dressing pad with one hand.

A familiar scratch reverberated in the corner of the apartment.

She turned her head towards it, spotting no claw marks.

Her heart palpitated. Then, the junks wriggled. Beneath the pile emerged a brown cardboard box, standing the same height as hers. Its two hole-like eyes stared at her. This time, a loud scratch wailed within the cardboard box. It drifted towards her.

The cardboard box flew, hitting the ceiling. It revealed a gal wearing a white blouse and a black skirt, holding a guitar.

She tripped, squeezing the toolbox and duffle bag with a dangling name tag. Her hazel hair reached her waist, hiding her albino face as she avoided eye contact.

Florence opened her mouth wide. The blood pushed against her palm. Given the circumstances, she couldn’t move.

“Please… I know… I mean… I don’t know anything,” the gal with a guitar said.

“Do not attack me or whatever a ghost does,” Florence said. “By the way, is there a first aid kit here?”

“I really… I didn’t do it.”

“You did not do what?”

“I… I mean… I didn’t steal the key. It dropped from the air vent.”

The duffle bag ruffled. A loud scratching came from within. The gal with a guitar cuddled the bag, silencing whatever was inside.

She then withdrew a key from her blouse pocket, showing the key to Florence.

“Pardon me, could you also bring me a needle and thread?” Florence asked.

The gal with a guitar trembled under her white blouse and black skirt. “I think… I might not have any of this stuff.”

“Please, tell me there is a bucket.”

“It’s upstairs. In the bathroom… I think.”

Florence read the name tag dangling on the duffle bag. “Thank you, Stella,” she said. “Would you mind if you could apply as much pressure on Yuze’s injury while I go upstairs?”

Stella nodded, shuffling over to Florence.

Florence pulled her hand away. Stella dropped both the duffle bag and toolbox, and she pressed on Yuze’s wound.

The heaps of metal junk clattered as Florence tottered towards the spiral staircase. She held onto the handrail, stumbling up the steps. Her bandaged forearm throbbing in pain. Once she reached the top, Aisling sat on the messy bed in a cramped room, slumping her shoulders and tucking her head down. A rotting smell floated from the bathroom, pulling Florence’s face into a grimace.

“At least we got a clue where she might be.” Aisling held the photograph in her hand. She rubbed her forehead. “That ghost. Where’s she now?”

“A friend of yours is downstairs. Is she the one?” Florence asked.

Aisling bolted upright. She waved, smiling at Florence.

“Who?” Aisling asked.

“Stella,” Florence said.

“Stella?”

“The one downstairs.”

“I guess I did sorta say she’s a ghost.”

The messy bed squeaked as Aisling leaped off it. She hopped past Florence, breezing down the staircase.

Florence limped through the opened door and entered the bathroom. She untied the bandages around her swollen forearms and let the dressing pad slip. But unlike Yuze, Florence’s bleeding stopped.

From the hanger, she snatched and threw the towel into a bucket. She turned the tap on. A stream of warm water flowed out, filling the cylinder container and soaking the towel wet. She grabbed a soap nearby, scrubbing between each side of her fingers. Back and forth. Keeping her hand higher than the elbow at all times. She then cleansed her arm. Repeating the procedure on the other hand and arm just like Martine would have done. Florence’s hands and arms passed through the flowing warm water, rinsing from her fingertips to her elbow.

She pinched the bucket with her elbows, carrying it downstairs.

Florence trudged over to Aisling’s side, standing before the workbench. Still, Stella kept her head down, pushing on Yuze’s bleeding wound.

“Look, everything is going to be alright,” Aisling said reassuringly, wrapping her fingers tightly around Yuze’s hand.

“I am back,” Florence said. “Stella, are you ready?”

“I’m not… I mean… I’m ready,” Stella said.

“On the count of three, you stop applying pressure on Yuze’s bite wound.”

“Yes… I… I understand.”

“One, two, three.”

Stella stopped pushing. The blood flooded out of Yuze’s wounded left thigh.

Florence’s hands flew into action, grabbing the towel and cleaning Yuze’s injury. Then Florence yanked the dressing pad, slapping it onto the bleeding bite mark on Yuze. Florence wrapped the final patch of gauze bandage around Yuze’s wounds, tying a reef knot to keep it in place.

“This should be all done,” Florence said, looking at Aisling. “I need to tell you something important.”

“Could we not talk about it now,” Aisling said.

“I understand that you wouldn’t want to do it. But Yuze should be brought to the hospital immediately.”

“I know… I wish we could do it.”

“So do not beat your gums. You have got to do it now.”

“What’re you talking about? I didn’t beat my gums.”

Yuze nudged at Aisling’s side.

“Yup, what’s it?” Aisling asked. She leaned in closer to Yuze.

“Food,” Yuze said.

Aisling spun around, ambling to the rusted fridge and opening its storage door. Inside, a slice of bread dotted with fungal growth sat alone. She grabbed it and tossed it into the air. It flew towards Florence, hitting her in the face like a brick.

Florence winced as she caught it in her hands.

“Gonna be honest here, this is better than nothing,” Aisling said.

Florence handed the slice of moldy bread to Yuze.

Yuze shook her head. “It’s for you.”

“Are you certain this is what you want?” Florence asked.

“Florence, you wanna put it in your mouth or what,” Aisling said.

Florence, with her mouth open, stared at Aisling.

Aisling shrugged.

“You do realize this could send someone to the hospital or even heaven,” Florence said, waving the slice of moldy bread.

Stella drifted away with her arms, reaching for the cardboard box on the metal junk heaps.

“Where’re you going?” Aisling asked.

“Please… I don’t want you to take me there today,” Stella said.

“So when we find the ghost, are we supposed to perform those exorcisms?” Florence asked, pointing at Stella. “It is not like I know how to do it.”

Stella looked over her shoulder, furrowing her brow, squinting at Florence.

“Speaking of that.” Aisling took out her phone from her jeans pocket. Immediately, she laughed, hugging herself. “Don’t worry about it, I kinda know what I’m doing.”

“I swear… I didn’t do anything… I’ll give your key back if you don’t bring me there,” Stella said.

Aisling lifted and carried both Yuze and Stella over her shoulder. Stella swung her legs and arms from left to right, pounding Aisling.

“Wait, what are we doing exactly?” Florence grasped for her leather briefcase.

“Let’s just say we’ll be kinda fine if we do it in time,” Aisling said. “Plus, you’ll see it yourself soon.”