I'm a horror novelist. Recently, the release of my new work made me quite a bit of money. However, I haven't written the ending for this story yet. To be honest, writing the ending of a horror story is really difficult. My new work is titled "The Building Ghost." Late at night, a reporter named Yolanda approached me and asked, "Xander, do you believe that building ghosts exist in this world?" I took a sip of my beer and fell into silence. "I do."
Chapter 1
Chapter 1
I am a horror novelist.
Not long ago, my new release brought in a nice chunk of change.
However, I haven't written the ending for this story yet.
To be honest, writing the conclusion of a horror story is really challenging.
My new work is called "The Ghost in the Building."
"Xander, do you believe in the existence of building ghosts?" asked Yolanda, the reporter visiting me today.
I took a sip of beer and fell silent.
"I do."
"Knock, knock, knock-"
There was a knock at the door.
I rubbed my eyes, having just woken up.
Lazily, I went to open the door.
"Hello, Xander. I'm Yolanda, a reporter."
I looked up.
Wow, a beauty.
She looked just like the kind of beautiful character I love to create in my horror novels.
Long hair, dressed in white, with a fragile beauty.
Noticing my gaze, Yolanda seemed a bit shy.
"Coming for an interview this late?" I scratched my head.
She looked a bit embarrassed and said, "Actually, another senior colleague was supposed to come during the day."
"But it seems you weren't home?"
I coughed, feeling a bit awkward.
I wasn't out; I was sleeping.
Writing horror novels, I often stay up all night for inspiration.
I spend most of the day catching up on sleep.
Yolanda looked young and inexperienced, like she hasn't been jaded by the world yet.
"You're new, right?" I invited her in.
Yolanda smiled shyly. "Yes, sorry to bother you at this hour, Xander. Everyone else was off, so they sent me."
I got the picture. She was indeed a newbie.
No wonder they sent her for a late-night interview.
A young girl coming to such an old apartment.
It's a recipe for trouble.
I took two cans of cold beer from the fridge.
"Don't come again next time."
"Huh?" She seemed puzzled.
I handed her a can.
"It's not very safe here, especially at this hour," I explained.
Yolanda politely declined the beer and sat properly at the dining table.
"It's quite safe now," she said softly.
I didn't say anything.
Young women these days often believe too much in the inherent goodness of society.
I took a quick look at the sofa.
It was covered with my old underwear, definitely not a place to sit.
I took out some leftover snacks from the fridge and sat across from Yolanda.
I began to enjoy my snack leisurely.
Summer really calls for snacks and beer.
"Xander, do you believe in building ghosts?" Yolanda asked, suddenly leaning closer.
I felt a bit tense. She was too close.
After all, I was still a man with some pride.
I took a sip of beer.
After a moment of silence, I said, "I do."
"Is this one of the questions from your editor?" I laughed.
Yolanda shook her head.
"No."
"This is something I'm personally interested in."
She pointed to the book on my sofa.
"I'm actually a fan of yours, Xander."
"I've read this novel many, many times."
I turned to look.
After a moment of surprise, I praised her, "You have a keen eye."
Yolanda smiled. "Do I?"
"Yes, the book was covered by so many clothes, yet you still noticed it."
Ugh, the snacks have gone a bit stale.
It had only been a day.
Yolanda picked up a snack and sniffed it.
"It smells good."
Thinking she was about to eat it, I quickly said, "The ones underneath are a bit spoiled. Don't eat them."
Yolanda shook her head. "I envy you for being able to eat, even if it's spoiled."
I chuckled and pointed at her figure.
"You're not even chubby."
"No need to watch your weight."
Yolanda stared at me intently. "I'm not dieting."
"But wouldn't it be nice if someone brought you fresh snacks right now?"
"No way that's happening," I said, sipping my beer.
Yolanda said, "Maybe your neighbor will bring you some."
I waved my hand dismissively.
"Impossible. I'm not close with them."
"And at this hour, who would bring me snacks..."
Before I could finish, there was a knock at the door.
"Who is it?"