Cassie woke to the scent of burnt toast and the sound of Janey cursing in three different languages.
"How do you burn microwavable toast?!" Cassie groaned as she rolled out of the makeshift bed on the floor.
"Don't judge me! The universe doesn't hand out manuals for toaster ovens from 1992!" Janey snapped, waving the charred slab like it owed her money.
Cassie made her way to the counter, eyes bleary. "Okay, time to adult. Let's find a place before we end up squatting in the library basement."
They sat cross-legged on the floor, their shared laptop balanced precariously on a milk crate turned table. The Wi-Fi was hanging on by a thread, but Cassie loaded the listings with grim determination. Around them, the apartment that had been home for the last two years looked even sadder than usual in the dim yellow light of their single working bulb.
"Studio apartment in Midtown, $2,900 per month," she read aloud.
Janey barked a laugh. "For that price, I better be getting a butler, heated marble floors, and a psychic cat."
"Oh wait! Here's one! $800 per month."
"Sounds promising. What's the catch?"
Cassie clicked. Her face fell. "Shared bathroom. With seventeen other tenants."
Janey gagged. "So basically, prison. Got it."
They went through listing after listing, some with broken windows, others that looked like horror film sets, and one suspiciously low-priced flat with no pictures and a warning in the description: No pets, no parties, no mirrors.
"What the hell kind of serial killer rule is that?" Janey whispered.
"Okay, what about this one?" Janey pointed. "Third-floor walk-up, one bedroom, hot plate included, and...oh wait...no windows."
"So basically a glorified coffin. Great."
Janey snorted. "Perfect for your emo soul."
Cassie rolled her eyes. "I'm not emo. I'm just 'artistically melancholic.'"
"Sure, Van Goth."
They burst into tired laughter, the kind that comes when you're one bad joke away from despair. After hours of scrolling through listings, the only thing they'd gained was eye strain and increasing awareness of their poverty.
"We're broke, Janey."
"No, we're not broke. We're financially minimalist."
Cassie arched a brow. "There's 28 dollars and 12 cents in our combined savings."
Cassie was about to close the page in defeat when a new listing popped up at the bottom of the feed.
"Hey, this one's... different."
Janey leaned in. "Old stone apartment, near the central train line, walking distance from downtown, only $200 a month? Is that a typo?"
Cassie clicked through the photos. They were grainy, slightly out of focus, and oddly dark but the structure seemed intact. The exterior had a strange, timeless quality, with ivy crawling up the stone facade and ironwork balconies that looked like they belonged in a different era.
"Too good to be true," she muttered.
Janey leaned in."Okay, this one has to be haunted," Janey said flatly. "Or a cult base."
"Or it's just really old and undervalued. Maybe the market hasn't caught up yet."
"Cass," Janey said gently, tapping her temple. "Central location for that price? No one prices something that low in the middle of a thriving city unless there's a body buried in the walls. Or it's cursed."
"Don't say cursed. I can't afford cursed."
"You can barely afford uncursed."
Cassie sighed. "We have no money, no credit score, and no other options."
They stared at the screen in silence. Finally, Janey sighed and picked up her phone.
"Fine. But if we get sacrificed to ancient gods, I'm haunting your sketchpad."
Still, something about the listing called to them. The photos were… not terrible. A bit dark. Blurry. But not actively horrifying.
Cassie clicked on the 'Contact Owner' button. A few moments later, her phone buzzed. She stepped away to take the call while Janey watched from the couch, chewing on the end of a pencil.
They called the number.
The voice that answered was deep, raspy, and unnervingly polite. The conversation was brief. The owner; someone named Mr. Lin was available the next morning to show them the unit.
Cassie returned minutes later, expression unreadable.
"So?" Janey asked.
"We've got an appointment to see it tomorrow morning."
Janey raised her arms like a referee signaling touchdown. "Look at us! Actual adults."
Cassie sat beside her. "Actual desperate adults."
Afterward, they collapsed on the floor again, Cassie curled up with a pillow, Janey chewing on the one remaining granola bar.
"You ever think we're just... cursed?" Cassie murmured.
"Daily," Janey replied. "But I figure if we are, we might as well look good while suffering."
Cassie laughed softly, then went quiet. Her gaze lingered on the ceiling.
"You know, when people talk about rock bottom, they don't usually imagine a twenty-four-year-old orphan, broke artist, ramen thief victim, living in a shoebox with her best friend."
Janey nudged her. "Hey. You're not just some orphan. You're my orphan."
Cassie blinked, then grinned. "Wow, I feel so special."
"You should. I could've gotten a roommate who does yoga and juices kale. Instead, I picked the girl who once stabbed a sandwich for looking at her wrong."
"It had olives, Janey. I told them no olives."
Janey burst out laughing.
Later that night, they lay on their mattresses, side by side on the floor like kids at a sleepover, the hum of a distant traffic jam drifting in through the cracked window.
"Do you ever think about your parents?" Janey asked softly.
Cassie was silent for a long beat.
"I never knew them."
Janey turned her head. "Not even their names?"
Cassie shook her head. "I was left at an orphanage with a note. Nothing else. Just 'Cassie Lin' scribbled in handwriting I could barely read. No one ever came back."
Janey didn't speak. She reached over and gave Cassie's hand a squeeze.
"You've got me," she said.
Cassie smiled faintly. "Damn right I do."
They lay in silence a while longer.
"I just want a place that feels safe," Cassie whispered. "Somewhere quiet. Somewhere we can start over."
Janey stared at the ceiling. "Then maybe that creepy old place is exactly what we need."
The night passed with them whispering in the dark, retelling old stories and clinging to warmth where they could find it.
The next morning dawned gray and wet.
Cassie and Janey walked briskly down the city sidewalks, dodging umbrellas and puddles. The rain had paused, but everything still dripped. The air felt damp, almost electric.
Cassie tugged her scarf tighter. "Do you think they'll let us see it without a credit check?"
Janey snorted. "With our credit? They'll need a miracle. Or a bribe."
They turned a corner onto a quieter street. The buildings were older here, towering like tired sentinels, their bricks weathered and ivy-streaked. It had a strange charm, forgotten and timeless.
"This is the address," Cassie said, checking her phone.
Janey glanced around. "Looks… atmospheric."
Just then, a man stumbled into the intersection ahead of them. His clothes were disheveled, his face twisted in terror.
He ran. Hard.
Behind him, a tall figure in black stepped calmly onto the street.
He didn't run. He didn't even hurry. But somehow, the distance between them never changed. He simply walked, each step measured, patient.
The first man glanced back, eyes wide in horror, as if the mere sight of his pursuer scorched him. He weaved between people and traffic, yet the black-clad figure remained close.
Cassie was walking opposite from him.
Then, as if directed by fate, the fleeing man ran straight through her.
Not past.
Through.
A freezing chill sliced through her body, dropping her breath like a stone in her lungs.
Time halted.
Cassie stood frozen.
Her heart thundered in her ears as she gasped. Her vision blurred. For a moment, she saw flickering images and shadows of another world before they snapped out of view.
Then the man was gone.
The mysterious figure in black passed by moments later.
He didn't touch her.
But his gaze flicked briefly to her, silver and cold as moonlight.
Then he continued on.
Janey's voice dragged Cassie back to reality. "Cass? What the hell just happened?"
Cassie spun, searching, but the alley was empty.
"Did you see them? That man...he just...he passed through me."
Janey frowned. "You're talking crazy."
"No, I swear! He went through me. Like… like a ghost."
Janey stepped closer. "Cassie, you're pale. Are you okay?"
Cassie pressed a hand to her chest. It was still racing.
"I don't know. Maybe… maybe I imagined it."
Janey touched her shoulder. "It's been a rough week. Stress can mess with your head. Let's just go see the apartment, okay?"
Cassie nodded slowly. "Yeah… yeah, okay."
But her eyes lingered on the alley where the strange man had disappeared.
Something wasn't right.
And deep in her bones, Cassie felt the stir of something she couldn't explain.