Chapter 40: Where’s the Ghost?

  Nearly two hours later, the buses pulled up to the peak of Green Star Mountain, and the students caught sight of an imposing building looming ahead—Green Star Peak Grand Hotel.

  Dusk had fallen, and the setting sun’s golden glow spilled over the hotel’s stone facade, casting an almost sacred aura over the structure.

  No one would’ve guessed that within these walls lurked a vengeful ghost.

  “Let’s move.” Ethan pulled back the police tape strung around the perimeter and stepped toward the hotel’s entrance.

  The rest of the students hurried after him, desperate not to fall behind. Western horror movie logic 101: the one who strays alone is always the first to die.

  The students from the other two Intelligence Classes clustered around them too, and soon over a hundred teens stood packed together. The noisy chatter did little to mask their fear, but it chased away the worst of the unease all the same.

  One student glanced at the empty hotel lobby, his voice tight with nerves. “Uh, sir—where’s Instructor Ron?”

  The three homeroom teachers all had nerves of steel, but they were still just regular humans. When stepping into a supernatural hotspot, a trained professional was the only real safety net.

  “Yeah, we don’t see Instructor Ron anywhere!” The rest of the students chimed in, planting their feet firmly on the ground—they weren’t stepping inside that hotel until the school’s strongest Ghostling was with them.

  “What are all of you cowards standing around for?!”

  A gruff voice cut through the chatter, and Ron stepped out from the hotel’s shadowed lobby, his expression unimpressed.

  A collective sigh of relief washed over the crowd, and they filed into the lobby without another moment’s hesitation.

  In the throng, John’s body tensed.

  A warm tingle spread across his chest—the telltale sign a ghost was nearby.

  His eyes scanned the room sharply, taking in the oil paintings on the walls, the mirror behind the front desk, the carved wooden trinkets on the side tables…

  “A ghost greets us the second we walk in? It’s that bold?”

  He frowned, pushing through the crowd to Ron’s side. “Instructor, I’ve got a bad feeling—there’s a ghost here.”

  “Hmm?” Ron blinked, then his gaze snapped to the shadows around them, his spiritual senses flaring to life. But he felt nothing—no cold auras, no ghostly presence, nothing. “Are you sure?”

  “Uh… just a gut feeling.” John couldn’t very well tell him about the ghostly face etched into his chest, after all.

  “Calm down.” Ron clapped him on the shoulder, assuming the kid’s nerves were getting the better of him. “If a vengeful ghost shows its face, I’ll handle it.”

  John nodded, keeping his mouth shut—but his guard was up now, every sense sharpened.

  “Ethan, split them up into rooms.” Ron’s gaze flicked to the three Intelligence Class homeroom teachers.

  The trio nodded and stepped up to the front desk, starting to assign rooms. For safety’s sake, students were paired up two to a room; the odd one out in each class was grouped into a triple.

  It didn’t take long for everyone to get their key cards.

  “Alright, you’ve all had a long trip—turn in early if you want.” Ron’s voice boomed across the lobby. “I’ll be patrolling every floor tonight. If anything happens, I’ll be there the second I hear it. But if you do run into a vengeful ghost? How long you survive until I arrive is up to you.”

  The students nodded, bunching up to pile into the elevators.

  “Hey, kid—if shit hits the fan, don’t you dare slow me down.”

  A burly man stepped up to John, his eyes sharp with a silent warning.

  “Hmm?” John glanced at him—he was a stranger, clearly from one of the other two classes.

  “I’ll try not to.” He shrugged, then turned and headed for the stairwell alone. His room was on the second floor; there was no point waiting for the crowded elevator, not when the stairs were right there.

  Dozens of eyes followed him, wide with shock. He’s really gonna go off alone in a place like this? Even the students from Class 1 stared at him weirdly. Sure, his strength was unbeatable in a fistfight—but that meant nothing against a ghost.

  In an instant, they all branded him arrogant.

  John didn’t care. He reached the stairwell, and the warm tingle on his chest faded away—this spot was safe.

  “The lobby was definitely haunted. Second floor’s gonna be a prime target for the ghost, huh…” He muttered to himself, his heart thrumming not with fear, but excitement. The ghostly face in his chest was practically salivating, waiting for its next meal.

  Soon enough, the students all trickled into their rooms, ready to catch their breath before the real terror began.

  “Thank god it’s a standard twin.” John flopped onto one of the beds, propping his feet up and scrolling through his phone, completely relaxed.

  His roommate—the same burly man from earlier—strolled in, saying nothing as he began tearing the room apart, checking every nook and cranny with a terrified intensity.

  In fact, most of the other students were doing the exact same thing. After all, if a vengeful ghost was hiding in your room, you were as good as dead.

  “Nothing new here?” John muttered, pulling up the official supernatural alerts on his phone. The only mention of Green Star Peak was a generic lockdown notice—no details, no clues, nothing useful.

  “Let’s check the other hotspots.” He raised an eyebrow, filtering the alerts to Blackwater City and its surrounding areas. Dozens of locked-down locations popped up on the screen.

  “Blackwater’s not doing too bad, all things considered.” He mused. For a whole city to only have a few dozen supernatural hotspots was manageable, relatively speaking.

  “I wish I could hunt all these ghosts…” He licked his lips, a hungry glint in his eyes—though it was just a fantasy. Every single one of those hotspots was sealed off by official armed units, for two reasons: to keep curious civilians out, and to act as a barrier. If a ghost ever escaped, the government would know the second it crossed the line.

  John’s strength was off the charts—but he wasn’t stupid enough to go up against guns and bullets.

  “To get in there, I need official clearance. I need to be a professional.” He thought to himself. That was why he’d been trying to impress Ron—connections to the official supernatural division were the only way to get access to the real hunts.

  His daydreaming was cut short by a commotion erupting upstairs, mingled with terrified screams.

  “Already?!” John’s eyes shot open, stunned. They’d been in the hotel less than thirty minutes—this ghost was in an absurd hurry.

  He didn’t hesitate, sprinting out of his room and up the stairs to the third floor.

  “Is he insane?!” Toby—John’s roommate—stared after him, his mouth hanging open in shock. A vengeful ghost had just attacked, and this kid was running toward the noise like he was late for dinner.

  John skidded to a stop in the third-floor hallway, which was already packed with students. They were all talking over each other, their faces pale with terror. They were Intelligence Class students, sure—but this was the first time they’d seen a ghost kill someone up close. Fear was eating them alive.

  “Goddamn it…”

  Outside Room 3024, Ron stood with a furious scowl, his eyes clouded with helplessness.

  “Instructor Ron? What happened?” John used his brute strength to shove through the crowd, stepping up to the door. The second he did, the warm tingle flared on his chest again—the ghost was still inside.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “I was too late.” Ron sighed, nodding toward the bathroom inside the room.

  Two young men lay crumpled on the tile floor, their eyes glassy and empty, long past dead. Their faces were twisted into masks of unbridled terror, like they’d seen something so horrifying it had killed them on the spot.

  “No visible wounds?” John stepped forward, his eyes sharp with caution, kneeling beside the bodies.

  “They died of asphyxiation.” Ron said. “I heard the commotion and ran here the second I could—but it got away.”

  “It… it might still be here.”

  John’s words sent the crowd into a blind panic.

  “Still here?!” Ron’s face hardened, his gaze slicing through every shadow in the room, his spiritual senses straining to their limit.

  “It’s watching us from the shadows, I think.” John ran his hand along the wall, his eyes scanning every inch of the room for any trace of the ghost—but he found nothing. Ron had clearly already searched the place, and if a full-fledged Ghostling couldn’t track it down, John stood no chance either.

  The truth was simple: if a vengeful ghost didn’t want to be found, it wasn’t—not unless you had a support-type Bound Ghost with Ghost Sight, or something similar.

  “Sneaky bastard.” The warm tingle on John’s chest was still there, a constant reminder the ghost was nearby, watching them all. But there was nothing he could do about it.

  “Everyone, back to your rooms.” Ron shook his head, his voice firm. “Now.”

  The students paled. Go back to our rooms? After this? But Ron was the head proctor for the assessment—they had no choice but to obey, trickling back down the hall with their tails between their legs.

  “What the hell did they see…” John glanced at the bodies one last time, then followed the rest of the crowd out.

  The attack had cast a dark shadow over everyone. Fear was no longer a distant thought—it was a cold hand wrapped around their throats. To that ghost, they were all just easy prey.

  Well, everyone except John, who was practically buzzing with anticipation.

  “Did something happen?” Toby practically jumped out of his skin when John walked back into their room.

  “Two guys are dead.” John said flatly, flopping back onto his bed and closing his eyes to think.

  “Already? Two people?!” Toby’s whole body shook, the hotel suddenly feeling like a gaping, man-eating maw. He swallowed hard, then burrowed under his covers, pulling them over his head until not a single inch of him was visible.

  John stared at him, dumbfounded. This is the guy who was worried about ME slowing HIM down?

  Night fell, and with it, a palpable sense of dread settled over the hotel. In every room with a student, the lights blazed bright—no one dared turn them off. Everyone knew the light did nothing to repel ghosts, but it chased away the dark, and with it, a little bit of the fear.

  “Can we turn the lights off?” John yawned, his eyes heavy with sleep.

  “NO!” Toby’s muffled voice came from under the covers, fake ferocity in his tone. “I told you—don’t you dare slow me down!”

  John’s eye twitched. So this is what he meant by slowing him down.

  He shook his head, closing his eyes and saying nothing more. The light was annoying, but he had a feeling tonight wasn’t over yet. Having the lights on would make it easier to move fast if things went south.

  Time ticked by, minute by minute. The hotel was silent—not a single scream, not a single sound. The students all let out quiet sighs of relief, thinking the worst was over.

  Then, around two in the morning, John’s eyes snapped open, his gaze fixed on the ceiling.

  A second ago, he’d heard a sound from upstairs—a soft thud, like someone collapsing to the floor. It was faint, barely a whisper, but his superhuman hearing had picked it up loud and clear.

  In an instant, he sprang to his feet, moving like a whirlwind as he burst out of the room.

  “Hmm?!” Toby had been sleeping fitfully, his eyes squeezed shut in terror. He jolted awake at the sound of the door slamming, his voice a shaky whisper. “John? You still here?”

  The room was silent. No answer. A chill ran down Toby’s spine, and he burrowed deeper under the covers, muttering to himself like a prayer. “Ghost rules—you can’t cross the line between inside the covers and outside. Don’t cross the line… don’t cross the line…”

  John was already on the fourth floor, staring down a dim, empty hallway. The lights were on, but they cast long, twisted shadows that made the whole corridor feel suffocatingly eerie.

  His face was calm as he slathered rooster blood on his hands. His Spiritual Affinity had gotten a boost from the pill, but a little extra rooster blood couldn’t hurt—it might even stack the effects, letting him touch a higher-tier vengeful ghost if he had to.

  He moved slowly toward Room 3028, his senses on high alert.

  “The door’s ajar. Too late again?”

  He peered into the empty room, and the warm tingle on his chest vanished—the person was dead, and the ghost was gone.

  He strode straight for the bathroom, and sure enough, two more bodies lay crumpled on the floor, their faces twisted into the same masks of unbridled fear as the first two.

  “Same exact death.” He checked the bodies quickly, then did something no sane person would—he flicked off the lights.

  Room 3028 plunged into darkness, save for a sliver of pale moonlight seeping through the window.

  “Can I lure it back?”

  By all rights, he was the perfect target: alone, in the middle of a haunted hotel, right where the ghost had just killed. Any vengeful ghost worth its salt would jump at the chance to strike again.

  The cramped bathroom was deathly quiet. The two bodies lay there, cold and still, their eyes staring blankly at the ceiling, pale and ghostly in the moonlight. It was a sight that would’ve made any normal person piss themselves with fear.

  John sat calmly beside the bodies, waiting.

  Minutes passed. The warm tingle on his chest never returned—the ghost wasn’t coming back.

  “Damn it.” He sighed, standing up. Luring it out was a lost cause.

  “Instructor Ron!” He bellowed, his voice shattering the dead silence of the night. Ron would be here any second—he’d said he was patrolling all night, and John believed him.

  Sure enough, the second John flicked the lights back on, Ron skidded to a stop at the door, his face tight with urgency.

  “What happened?! Is someone hurt?!” His eyes locked onto John, then darted around the room.

  John’s eyes narrowed. He said nothing, just pointed at the bathroom.

  Ron took a deep breath, his shoulders slumping as he guessed the worst. He stepped into the bathroom, his expression grim.

  John’s shout had woken every student in the hotel, all of whom were already on edge from the first attack. One by one, they trickled into the hallway outside Room 3028, their faces white with terror. They were scared out of their minds, but they’d all come running—not to hunt the ghost, but to avoid being alone. After all, in a place like this, the person left behind in an empty room was always the next target.

  Then, panic erupted once more. Shrieks of terror rang out from the crowd.

  “Someone help! The two in 3030 are dead too!”

  “3029’s the same—both of them!”

  “Fack,What the hell is this place?! How many people are gonna die tonight?!”