Third Person POV

It was already deep into the night when Carlos finally reached his apartment block. The streets were nearly empty, the silence broken only by his uneven footsteps as he wandered in slow, zigzagging lines. He had drunk a little too much, but it wasn’t the alcohol that weighed him down—it was the crushing reality that he was about to lose his job and had no money left.

All of his savings had been drained by the endless remittances he sent to his sick sister back in the province. He was a dedicated police officer, but with his low rank and uncertain future, his monthly salary barely kept him afloat.

His phone suddenly vibrated inside his jacket. The world spun slightly, so he fumbled for it by touch alone.

Don’t come in tomorrow. The Chief is arriving. You know how hot‑headed he is when it comes to you, read the message from his fellow officer.

Carlos clenched his fist in frustration.

“Just my damn luck!” he shouted into the empty street, stomping his foot like a madman before exhaustion forced him to stop. He took a deep breath and kept walking—until he realized something was wrong.

The road felt unfamiliar. He had no memory of turning this way.

A low growl from nearby dogs sent a chill through him, followed by a violent crack of thunder that tore across the sky. An inexplicable fear crept into his chest.

“Hijo…”

“Son of a—!” Carlos spun around when a voice suddenly spoke behind him. The shock sobered him instantly. An old woman now stood there, smiling.

“Hijo,” she called again.

Despite the goosebumps crawling up his arms, Carlos forced himself to step closer.

“Grandma, you shouldn’t sneak up on people like that. What are you doing out here at this hour?”

Without answering, the old woman grabbed his arm and dragged him toward a small flower shop nearby. He barely had time to protest before she pulled him inside.

“Wait—” he began, but she had already let go and hurried toward the only door inside. Moments later she returned, holding a small red box.

Her smile was impossibly wide as she approached him.

“Grandma, I really should be going—”

“Just a moment, hijo. Take this.”

Carlos frowned as he looked inside the box.

“A wedding ring?” he murmured.

“It’s yours,” the old woman said, pressing the box into his hands.

“Wait, what? Why would I need this? I’ve been single my whole life.”

Her smile only grew wider.

“Put it on. She’s been waiting for you.”

“…What? Who has?”

“Elena. Your wife. She’s been waiting for you for a very long time.”

“That’s impossible.” He shoved the box back into her hands. “You’ve got the wrong person. I don’t have a wife, and I don’t know anyone named Elena. I’m leaving.”

He had barely turned when she spoke again.

“Then buy it from me.”

Annoyed, Carlos scratched his head. “Grandma, I don’t even have a peso on me. I’m having the worst luck right now, so please—”

“Then all the more reason you need it,” she said softly. “Believe me. This will bring you luck for the rest of your life.”

“I told you, I don’t have any—”

“There’s no more time,” she interrupted, glancing at the shop’s glass window where the full moon shone brightly.

“Take it. Luck will come to you once you do.”

Against his better judgment, Carlos accepted the red box and opened it.

“Put it on.”

With a tired sigh, he slipped the ring onto his finger.

A sharp sting made him gasp. The metal cut into his skin, drawing a thin line of blood. When he looked up, the old woman was smiling wider than ever.

“Thank you,” she said.

Then she turned away and vanished into the darkness, leaving Carlos standing alone. It took several seconds for reality to catch up with him. Shaking his head, he rushed out of the flower shop.

As he walked, he wondered why he had taken the ring at all.

“Damn it… what rotten luck,” he muttered.

Faint light began creeping into the sky—dawn was approaching. He studied the ring, which looked strangely ancient, like something once worn by kings and queens long ago. The design was old-fashioned and unsettling. He didn’t like it at all.

He tried to take it off.

A sudden icy breath brushed against his neck.

His skin prickled.

“My husband…”

“Shit!” He spun around, but the street was empty. “I must be drunk,” he muttered, forcing himself to walk—until something cold grabbed both his arms, freezing him in place.

“My husband… shall we go home now?” a woman whispered beside him.

Carlos jerked around—

—and blacked out at the sight of a woman in white, her face drenched in blood, smiling sweetly at him.

“My husband…”

Carlos POV

I jolted awake when my phone alarm went off. I had to shield my eyes from the glare of the sun. So it was already morning. I must have slept really well, even though I drank last night.

“Wait.” I suddenly froze as something came back to me. I looked around the room. “How did I get home?” I muttered. The last thing I remembered was stumbling around drunk, then an old woman giving me a ring. Right—the ring. I quickly looked at my hand and my eyes widened when I saw it was still there.

I thought I was just drunk and hallucinating last night, seeing all sorts of things. I even saw a—

“A woman with a blood‑soaked face.” I didn’t realize I’d said it out loud. I almost jumped when the picture frame hanging on my door suddenly fell. There was no wind, so why did it fall? There couldn’t be a ghost in my apartment. Of course not. I’ve lived here for years and never encountered anything strange. I just stood up, picked up the frame, and put it back on the door.

I fixed my bed and opened the window to let the sunlight in. I didn’t have work today, so I’d just go to the market later. I didn’t have much money left—probably only enough for two or three weeks. Ah, life. Nothing but bad luck these days.

After opening the window, I looked for my charger and plugged in my phone. I left the bedroom and went to the kitchen. I searched for something to cook and was lucky to find three eggs and some ketchup, so that was what I made. After eating, I went to take a shower.

I took off all my clothes and turned on the shower. The cold water felt so good against my skin. After rinsing, I reached for the soap, but it slipped from my hand and fell to the floor. I quickly bent down to pick it up, but I suddenly stepped back when another hand grabbed it.

“Shit! What was that?” I asked myself, my heart pounding. I looked around the entire bathroom, but I was the only one there. I grabbed the soap and shook off the strange thought.

“I’m just hungry,” I muttered. I finished showering quickly and wrapped a towel around my waist as I walked back to my room. I was about to open the door when I heard someone laugh behind me. I turned around, but there was no one there.

“Who’s there?” I asked the empty space. No one answered. I shook my head and opened the door, but before I could step inside, something suddenly pulled the towel from my waist, exposing everything.

“Shit,” I cursed as I quickly wrapped it back around myself. Then I heard laughter again, louder this time. I could feel someone nearby, watching me, even though I couldn’t see anyone.

“Who are you? What are you doing in my house?” I shouted. But all I got in response was laughter. “Show yourself. Do you know this is trespassing?” I added.

“My husband.”

“Fuck!” I jumped when someone whispered in my ear. “W‑who are you? Show yourself or I’ll have you arrested. I’m a cop!” I said in panic. But only laughter answered me, and now I realized it was a woman’s voice.

“Come out. Show yourself to me,” I ordered. The air suddenly turned cold, and I admit I felt chills. “Do you really want to see me, my husband?” her voice replied. “W‑who are you?” I shouted.

“I’m Elena, your wife,” she answered softly. I quickly grabbed the broom beside my bed. I never imagined I’d be afraid of a woman’s voice. “Come out,” I said. “Are you sure, my husband?” she asked. “You are not my wife. Now come out, or I’ll have you thrown in jail,” I threatened.

I flinched when something brushed against my back. It was so cold that my skin broke out in goosebumps.

“Alright, but promise me you won’t be afraid, scream, or faint when you see me,” she said.

“What do you mean? Why would I be scared of you? Show yourself. Come out.”

“Okay.”

I gasped when the light in my room suddenly turned on and off, flickering wildly. The wind grew stronger, making the curtains fly.

“Where are you?” I shouted, fighting the fear rising inside me. “I’m here.” A voice spoke behind me, and I turned so fast I dropped the broom. I couldn’t move when I saw a woman in white, her hair so long it brushed the floor, her dress covering her feet. She was sitting on my bed with her back to me.

My hands were shaking, but I still stepped closer. My movements were slow and careful. She didn’t move at all, like a statue. I slowly lifted my hand and touched her. Her body was ice‑cold.

“T‑turn around,” I stammered. I instantly regretted saying it. I fell back when she finally turned to face me.

“Fuck!” I swore loudly at the sight of her. It was the blood‑covered woman I had seen last night. We stared at each other. My eyes were wide with terror while she looked at me without emotion. Her gaze slowly drifted down to the lower part of my body, which was completely exposed. When she saw it, she smiled.

“G‑ghost!” I screamed as I jumped up and ran, almost tripping over myself. I tried to open the door to escape, but it was locked. I banged on it and shouted over and over, hoping someone outside would hear me.

“Help! Please help me! There’s a ghost in my house! Help! I’m being haunted! Help!” I kept yelling, but no one seemed to hear.

Damn it. Is she going to kill me? Is this the end? It can’t be.

I can’t die yet because…

I still haven’t had a girlfriend.

I kept pounding on the door, but no one came to help. I suddenly froze when a cold hand grabbed both of my arms.

“My husband,” she whispered. My knees trembled, and I couldn’t move.

“Please… don’t kill me. I still have a family, and I’ll pray for you every day. Please,” I begged, my voice on the verge of tears. The cold hand slowly let go of me.

“Tsk. Just turn around already,” she said. My eyes widened, because it felt like I was no longer talking to a human being. I was still facing away from her, yet her voice suddenly sounded darker.

“I don’t want to. Go away,” I said. I even heard her sigh.

“I’m not in the mood to scare you right now… just turn around, my husband,” she added.

“I don’t want to! Please, just leave me alone,” I begged even more desperately. I felt like I was about to pee myself. That was when I remembered—I wasn’t wearing anything at all. Snapping back to reality, I hurried to my room, wrapped a towel around my body, grabbed the broom, and went back to the door. But when I returned, she was gone.

“Did she leave?” I muttered, pointing the broom at the empty space. I waited for a few more seconds, but I saw and heard nothing unusual, so I slowly lowered the broom. I let out a breath of relief. It looked like the ghost was gone. Was she really a ghost, or a white lady?

“I think I’m going crazy,” I shook my head and turned to go back to my room—then I froze. The blood‑covered woman was sitting on the floor in front of the door, blocking my way. I immediately aimed the broom at her.

I thought she was gone. Damn it. She just stared at me without even blinking. She was terrifying—her face and clothes were soaked in blood, and her skin was deathly pale.

“Are you afraid of me? Or are you afraid of ghosts?” she suddenly asked. I swallowed hard.

“N‑no! Just go away!” I shouted. I stumbled back when she stood up and started walking toward me.

“D‑don’t come any closer! I’m warning you!” I yelled, but it was as if she couldn’t hear me, because she kept walking toward me. My throat tightened even more.

I could barely blink when she was already in front of me. Slowly, she leaned her face closer to mine, until there was barely a hand’s width between us. Her gaze traveled from my eyes, to my nose, then down to my lips, which I knew were trembling.

This is it. This must be the end.

I blinked when she suddenly smiled.

“So you are afraid of me,” she said, smirking. I was about to speak when her cold finger brushed against my lips.

“You’re shaking. Am I really that scary?” she asked, but I couldn’t answer.

“Okay. Fine.” She stepped back, and my eyes widened when her appearance suddenly changed. Her blood‑stained clothes turned into a clean white knee‑length dress, and the blood on her face vanished as well.

“Better? Are you not scared of me anymore?” she asked. But before I could answer, everything went black and I felt myself fall onto the cold floor.

---

I woke up to the feeling of a cold hand brushing my face. When I opened my eyes, a woman with an unnaturally pale face was right in front of me.

“You’re awake, my husband!” she said with a smile. I jolted upright and backed away from her. I thought it had all been a dream—but it was real.

“Every time I show myself to you, you always faint,” she added. I could only stare at her, trying to figure out how to escape.

“My husband? Are you okay?” she asked, waving her hand in front of my face. I noticed that the apartment door was slightly open, so I bolted for it. I didn’t care that I was wearing nothing but a towel. I just wanted to get away from that ghost woman.

I rushed to the elevator and nearly broke the buttons from how fast I was pressing them.

“Hurry up. Open already,” I muttered in panic.

“Why don’t you get dressed first?” a voice said beside me. When I turned, it was the ghost woman again. The elevator suddenly opened, and people were inside, staring at me—especially at what I was wearing. I felt my face burn with embarrassment, but fear pushed me forward. I stepped inside and squeezed into the far corner, keeping my head down.

They kept looking at me, but I didn’t care. I just needed to get out of here.

“It’s so hot in here.” I looked to the side when someone spoke. My heart nearly stopped when I realized the ghost woman was standing right next to me. I jerked back and bumped into one of the passengers. He shot me an annoyed look, so I quickly apologized and moved back into place. I shut my eyes, shaking in fear.