The Human Heart: More Frightening Than a Ghost

"Jessica, I'm sorry. My agent says I can't be associated with you right now. You understand, right? Rest assured, I do love you. It's just a temporary breakup," Joshua said.

Even wrapped up tightly, the refined, privileged aura of the young man in front of me was impossible to hide.

I stared at the gentle, elegant man in front of me-my boyfriend of two years-and felt like I was in a daze. I forced a stiff smile and said softly, "Okay."

Joshua turned his head away, dodging my eyes. Guilt flickered in his tone as he explained, "People are saying your parents committed suicide out of guilt. I don't believe that, but if someone saw us together and the rumors spread..."

I understood what he left unsaid. I was now just a fallen heiress-my family ruined, my parents dead, my heart condition acting up-and he was a shining star, adored by millions.

After seeing him out, I sank into the sofa, feeling hollow.

Just a few months ago, I had been the glamorous daughter of the Williams family. Then came the bankruptcy, the fatal car crash that took my parents, and now even Joshua had distanced himself from me for fear of gossip. All I had left was a mountain of crushing debt.

In my daze, I recalled my father's warm smile, the steaming meals my mother made. I still couldn't believe they would take their own lives. My chest tightened. I struggled to open the drawer and swallowed a pill.

The doorbell rang, sharp and sudden. "Hello, delivery!" a voice called from outside.

I opened the door, signed, and took the package. It was thin, like a letter. Strange. I hadn't ordered anything lately, too caught up in trying to survive.

The return address was unfamiliar. I carefully opened it. Inside was a sleek black envelope, embossed with gold lettering, simple and elegant, yet carrying a subtle sense of mystery.

As I pulled out the invitation, a slip of paper fluttered to the floor.

I bent down to pick it up and froze. Written in thick red marker were the words, "Want to know the truth about your parents' death?"

A crude red smiley face was drawn underneath.

I had questioned everything about their deaths these past weeks. But all my efforts had led nowhere, like something or someone was deliberately covering up the truth. I never believed they would kill themselves, or that they would stoop to stealing trade secrets from a rival just to gain a competitive edge.

This invitation-I had to go.

On the day of the meeting, I arrived at the address at exactly noon. It led me to a long-abandoned five-story building. Oddly familiar.

It was right in the center of the city, but the entire block felt deserted. No one lived nearby. I asked passersby if they knew anything about this place, but every one of them claimed ignorance.

As I stepped inside, despite it being the hottest time of day, a cold draft slithered up my back like ghostly breath. The air was thick with unease.

I stared at the dilapidated front doors, took out my phone, and looked at my last message to Joshua, "Can you come with me to a place?"

Still no reply.

I didn't hesitate any longer. I pushed open the heavy iron door and stepped inside.

As soon as I crossed the threshold, the door slammed shut behind me with a deafening bang, stirring up a cloud of dust.

I looked around. This had once been a hotel. Just as I was taking it in, a man appeared. He wore an ill-fitting white shirt and black dress pants. Tall and slim, his long eyelashes curled slightly, and the shape of his eyes-tilted both inward and out-was almost too pretty.

His irises were light, catching the sunlight and softening his gaze.

Even in a plain white shirt, his skin was so pale it glowed. His expression carried a smile that didn't reach his eyes. His features were sharp and clean, a small mole beneath the corner of one eye adding to his almost unnatural charm.

He looked ridiculous in clothes that clearly weren't his, yet his gentle smile made it hard to mock him.

He approached me without a word, handed me a card for room 205, gold lettering once again.

He also pressed two candies into my palm. When I looked up to ask him something, he was already gone, vanished without a sound.

My heart was filled with questions, but with no one to answer them, I had no choice but to keep going. No matter how strange this was, I had come this far. There was no turning back.

I found the elevator, but a sign in front read "Under Construction." The elevator doors were open, but the interior was pitch black, rusted like the jaws of some ancient monster. A chill ran down my spine. I chose the spiral staircase instead.

At room 205, I cautiously pushed the door open. It wasn't fancy, but at least it was clean. The room was done in warm wood tones-cozy, if slightly off-putting.

I unpacked, and just as I was thinking of going out to find food, the doorbell rang again. I pressed my ear to the door-silence. I opened it. Dinner had been left on the floor. I brought it inside without thinking much.

If they wanted to kill me, they could have done it the moment I walked in. There was no point waiting.

After dinner, I hesitated at the bathroom door. I couldn't sleep without a shower, but horror movies had conditioned me to fear bathrooms most of all. Still, I clenched my jaw and walked in. Nothing happened.

I returned to bed. The mattress was soft enough. I buried myself under the covers and slowly drifted off, mind spinning with everything that had happened.

Unbeknownst to me, in a hidden room nearby, a shirtless man with a chiseled physique sat sulking, "Hey, that was my job. Why'd you take it?"

"You even stole my clothes," he thought.

But seeing the young man's expressionless face, he dared not complain more.

Daniel sat lazily on the sofa, gave a soft click of his tongue and kicked the man with one long leg. "You talk too much," he remarked.

"He didn't just take your job," a seductive woman in a red dress drawled as she walked over. "He wouldn't even let me scare her in the bathroom."

Daniel ignored her. "Save it. Tomorrow's the real show. Rest up." With that, he stood and left.