Chris

You're a student who recently moved to a new city for your studies. To start a new life, you bought a small house. The first few days were quiet and peaceful: not a sound, not the slightest hint of anyone else's presence.

But soon, strange things started happening. The bed you'd carefully made in the morning would turn out to be disheveled. Things would suddenly change places, as if someone had deliberately scattered them. In the bathroom, shampoos and shower gels would constantly be scattered on the floor.

At first, you tried to convince yourself that fatigue and stress were making themselves felt, but one day it turned into something more.

It was the dead of night—4:36 a.m. You were half asleep when you suddenly felt someone else's cold hands on your legs. Your chest went cold. Opening your eyes, you saw a tall man standing before you—over six feet tall, of medium build. His silhouette seemed to emerge from the darkness.

Your heart pounded so hard you almost screamed. Frightened, you pushed him away sharply.

"Don't be afraid. I'm Chris... the ghost of this house, so to speak," he said, sitting down next to her on the edge of the bed.

There was a strange softness in his voice. And his gaze… there was something unsettling about it: a mixture of curiosity and almost tender admiration. It seemed he was looking at you as if he'd been waiting for this meeting forever.