He stepped into the old house. The door was hanging off its hinges, and the stench of rot and dampness hit him right from the entrance, filling every olfactory cell in his nose.
He pressed the sleeve of his coat over his nose and mouth, trying to push away the bad feeling the house gave him as he entered.
The interior was even messier and more disastrous than he'd imagined.
He thought to himself: Is this house really worth the trouble of fixing it up? Maybe it'd be better to just get rid of it.
But he shook his head, driving those thoughts away. He gently pushed open the wooden windows, held together by rusty, reddish nails, and the cold, fresh air of the final days of winter flowed in easily after being locked out for so long.
The chilly wind filled the whole house, lifting a faint cloud of dust from its resting places.
Nick coughed lightly, then covered his nose and mouth again with his sleeve.
The dust here was so old and stagnant that he feared breathing it in might give him some severe skin or lung disease.
He took off his long, burnt-brown overcoat, pulled a cloth handkerchief from the inner pocket, and tied it over his face.
He rolled up his shirt sleeves a few centimeters and started rearranging the furniture.
Maybe it'd be better to sell these things at a junk shop or an antique dealer—or just store them in the basement.
After all, who would buy furniture that reeked of damp and age, covered in at least five centimeters of dust? Only a madman.
........
The sound of steady knocking filled the empty house, echoing off the walls.
Nick said in a hoarse voice: "Yeah, yeah. I'm coming."
The repeated knocks stopped after his words. But after a few minutes, Nick remained still, eyes closed, drifting back into sleep.
The person at the door, losing hope, began kicking it with the heel of his shoe. The firm thuds finally made Nick's eyelids flutter.
He sat up with his eyes still closed, rubbed his messy hair, and muttered softly: "Damn it…"
He slowly got out of bed, struggled to open his eyes, slipped on his foam slippers, and yawned as he opened the door.
A tall, broad-shouldered man in a long black overcoat and a face mask stood there. His piercing blue eyes—eyes that seemed to penetrate your very soul, searching for every trace of you—stared at him.
Nick dipped his head slightly in greeting and leaned against the doorframe. "Hello. Come in, sir. Do you need something?"
Without a word, the man pulled a small package from his coat pocket and said: "This is yours."
Nick looked at the package—wrapped in rough, yellowish paper—with curiosity and suspicion, then back at the man. "Oh… what's this?"
The man removed his mask. His strikingly pale face and thin pink lips were the first things that caught Nick's attention. He'd never seen anyone so unnaturally white in his life.
Those blue eyes stood out like a wild animal's—predatory, fixed on its prey.
The man moistened his lips slightly with his tongue and said: "This package was mistakenly delivered to my house. But your address is on it. I think the mailman got the houses mixed up."
Nick stared directly into the man's eyes, smiled once he finished speaking, and said: "I see. Thank you. Well… I'm sorry I can't invite you in to thank you properly."
He gestured toward the inside of the house with his hand and eyes. "I just moved here yesterday, and… well, you can see for yourself—this place is pretty much a ruin."
The man nodded without looking inside and turned to leave.
Nick noticed immediately and called out: "Hey, wait. What's your name?"
The man, already walking away, stopped abruptly. He tilted his head slightly to the right and said: "Adrian."
"Oh. Adrian. Thanks for bringing the package. Goodbye."
Adrian nodded and vanished from Nick's sight, entering the house across the street—directly opposite Nick's.
He lived right across the street. His opposite neighbor. What a coincidence.
Nick shook his head lightly, went back inside, and closed the door behind him.
He sat down on the new two-seater sofa, a murky green color. He leaned his head back against the cushion, held the package in his hands, and shook it up and down.
The contents shifted a few times before settling.
He looked at the sender's label.
No name was written, but the address was correct, and his last name was listed as the recipient.
So who sent this package? He had no idea.
He wasn't in touch with any relatives, and his close acquaintances didn't even know his new address.
He began unwrapping the paper and pulled out a plain brown cardboard box.
He tore the tape with a knife.
He turned the box over, letting the contents fall onto the table.
An old key and a metallic, gray flash drive.
He picked up the flash drive and examined it. It had no distinctive features—but it was in complete contrast to the old key.
His curiosity had faded; he figured someone was playing a prank on him.
He tossed the key and flash drive back into the box and left it on the table.
He spent the rest of the day finishing repairs and cleaning, so busy that he completely forgot about the package.
...
Steam from the freshly brewed coffee fogged his glasses, blurring the world around him.
He pushed his glasses up and, while sipping his afternoon coffee, thought about his quiet, worry-free vacation in this house.
He was getting tired of staying indoors, so he decided to take a walk through the city streets, breathe the cold late-winter air, and explore his surroundings. Maybe he'd get lucky and meet someone his age nearby. Or even someone attractive.
Thinking about meeting someone, his mind drifted to his opposite neighbor—that lean, wheat-skinned man covered in dust on his face and clothes. He was sure that if the guy cleaned up, he'd be quite handsome.
But he didn't think the man—who seemed very warm despite his appearance—would want to talk. In the short time he'd lived in his new house, he hadn't connected with anyone. He rarely left the house. He'd never seen the man again, neither near the house nor in the area. Maybe he never went out.
He wandered aimlessly through the streets. Occasionally he stopped by old, abandoned buildings to take photos. He peeked around the lone trees in the small gardens, searching for anything that might help him find what he was looking for.
But it was useless, and he knew nothing would just fall into his hands.
On his way back home, he spotted his neighbor.
The man's door was open, and he was moving things outside.
Nick's gaze met Adrian's, and suddenly, with a big smile, he waved and called from afar: "Hello! Good day!"
Adrian nodded in greeting from a distance and started walking toward his own house.
Nick, noticing he was leaving, called louder: "Can I invite you for a cup of coffee? I make good coffee."
Adrian stopped, turned his head toward him.
He thought to himself that it wouldn't be bad—since he'd come to this remote place, at least making one friend would be nice. After a second's pause, he said in a quieter voice: "Sure."
Nick happily finished moving the remaining items, guided Adrian—who was approaching—into the house.
While tossing the messy clothes from the living room corners under the sofa, he smiled and said: "Sit down. I'll make the coffee right away. With milk or sugar?"
"Bitter, please."
Nick nodded and headed to the kitchen.
The interior was fairly spacious, and it was clear a lot of effort had gone into repairing and cleaning it.
A full set of gray sofas was arranged in the living room. The only thing that stood out oddly was an old television that clashed with the fresh feel of the house.
Nick returned with a tray of coffee cups, placed them on the table in front of the sofa, threw himself onto the single-seater, and said: "Finally… all the house work is done, and I can breathe easy. What do you think?"
Adrian glanced around and said: "It's really turned out well. But… aren't you going to get rid of that old TV?"
"Oh, that? I think it's pretty classic and cool. But I haven't tested if it works yet. Want to try it?"
"Looks fine. But do you have anything to play?"
Nick, realizing he had nothing, slapped his forehead hard and said: "Damn it."
Then his eyes suddenly landed on the table next to the TV. "I think I found something."
He stood up, grabbed the box from the table, pulled out the flash drive, and said: "Got it."
He plugged the flash drive into the old TV, turned to Adrian with curiosity, and said: "Let's see what's on it."
After a brief scratchy noise and annoying static, the TV screen stabilized and began playing soft music with underlying eerie tones.
"Hey, what did you play? This is weird."
Adrian felt the room filling with negative energy, his skin tingling strangely.
Nick said in surprise: "I don't know either. Remember the package you brought me? This flash drive was inside it."
Adrian increasingly felt cold seeping into the house—or at least he thought so.
"Turn it off."
Nick, noticing the unusual tone in his voice, quickly unplugged the TV.
With concern, Nick asked: "Are you okay? What happened all of a sudden?"
Adrian, whose body still felt strange, said: "I have to go. Sorry."
Nick rushed toward him and said: "Are you really that bad? I'm sorry. It's probably my fault. Want me to walk you home?"
Adrian pushed Nick's hand away, shook his head no as he left the house, and said: "No, thanks. It's not far."
Nick stood there unhappily, watching Adrian leave, upset that this had happened during their first real interaction in his home and that he couldn't help.
It was all that damn flash drive's fault.
As soon as Adrian left, Nick grabbed the flash drive and threw it out the window.
Truth be told, while listening to that music, he'd felt strange things too—but completely different from Adrian.
He'd seen images he thought were childhood memories. But none of his childhood memories were good ones he wanted to recall. If he could, he'd prefer to forget them all.
...
With a mentally exhausted body and a chaotic mind, he entered his house and hurried to his study.
He opened his grandfather's old notebook and quickly flipped to the middle.
He'd found it.
Signs of a demonic spirit reacting to waves.
Demonic spirits have different wavelengths and inner energies based on their power.
From this discovery, one can conclude that if faced with a suitable medium and a tool deeply connected to the demonic spirit, part of the spirit's power can be transferred into that object. Due to mediums' sensitivity to dark and foreign energies, this event is quickly detectable.
This type of demonic spirit, deeply tied to memories and friends from its living days, can only be exorcised in one specific way.
Otherwise, danger threatens the victim and eventually a massive wave of people.
The only way to defeat it…
He quickly searched for the next line. But the paper for that section was completely decayed and destroyed.
He pressed his hand to his temple and massaged it lightly.
Now that he had more information, he could probably find a way to destroy it. He just needed to connect all the clues.
With a short sigh, he threw himself onto the bed. Because of this incident, he hadn't been able to connect properly with Nick and had fled immediately. Nick probably wouldn't want to be friends anymore.
He chuckled at his own thoughts. He was acting just like a six-year-old.
........
A few days had passed since the incident, and Nick had heard nothing from Adrian. He'd reached his limit—he needed to check on him.
Winter was nearing its end, and the weather was colder than ever. Snow covered the entire city, and the only thing breaking the deserted, icy atmosphere were the occasional footprints left by residents.
He put on his fur-lined coat and headed to Adrian's house.
He rang the intercom and waited.
After minutes of silence, the door slowly opened.
A tall figure—head nearly reaching the top of the doorframe—appeared in comfortable black clothes, with messy hair falling over his forehead.
Nick looked at his face in surprise and said: "Adrian? It's really you?"
Adrian, tidying his hair distractedly, said: "Oh. Nick. Hi."
"I wanted to check on you. No news since that day."
Adrian rubbed the back of his neck, looked away, and—trying to hide his guilt—said: "Well… sorry. I thought you wouldn't want to see me again."
Nick said in surprise: "And where did that idea come from? Never mind. I can't even imagine how you came up with that."
Adrian gave a small smile and said: "I'm really sorry. Want to come in?"
Nick looked at his smile in amazement and thought: (First time I've seen him smile.)
"I'm completely free at home. So why not."
Nick entered, and Adrian closed the door behind him.
As he looked around, Nick said: "I thought, given your personality, your house would be very neat and stylish. But it's not even close to what I imagined."
Adrian, tidying up a bit, said: "Truth is, this isn't my house. I rented it for the winter holidays, and I'm leaving at the end of the month."
Nick said sadly: "I see. You were the only young person in this remote town, and now you're leaving. But I'm stuck here permanently."
Adrian looked into Nick's eyes and said: "I haven't left yet. But… my real home is in the capital. If you're interested, I can invite you—or give you a room."
Nick, weighing the offer, said: "Deal. You can't take it back. Haha… I really don't like this town. It doesn't match my vibe at all. If I hadn't lost my own house, I wouldn't have had to come to this remote place."
Adrian, trying to control his curiosity, said: "So… how did you end up here?"
"Long story. A few months ago, my house randomly caught fire due to a gas leak while I wasn't home. Everything burned and was destroyed.
No matter what I did, insurance wouldn't cover it. In the end, they gave me a tiny amount of money just to get rid of me.
Finally, I had to come to this house I inherited from my grandfather so I wouldn't have to pay expensive rent and make myself miserable."
Adrian, listening carefully, said: "That must have been really hard. I can't even imagine everything being destroyed in a moment."
"Yeah. I couldn't believe it myself. But here I am—right across from you—and it happened a few months ago."
Adrian poured prepared coffee into glass mugs in the kitchen, sat next to Nick, and said: "I'm sorry about that."
Nick shook his head in surprise and said: "I'm the one who should apologize. It happened in my house."
Adrian looked at Nick's face and said: "Let's forget about it.
And talk about something else."
Nick excitedly changed the subject: "So… do you have a girlfriend?
I don't think you're married—otherwise, what wife would let her husband go on vacation alone in another city."
Adrian suddenly froze, his face turning slightly red. "I said change the subject, not make me choke on my coffee."
Nick laughed and patted Adrian's back a few times. "Don't be shy, man. Come on, tell me. What's your type?"
Adrian cleared his throat with a few coughs and said: "I don't have a girlfriend." He glanced sideways at Nick and added: "What about you? What kind of girl is your type?"
Nick, with a big smile that didn't quite match the look in his eyes, said: "Truth is, before all this, I had a girlfriend who dumped me when my house burned. And I think my type is someone I can rely on and feel comfortable with. My ex was the complete opposite."
Adrian looked at Nick and said hesitantly: "I… never had a girlfriend. But a long time ago, I briefly had a boyfriend."
Nick looked at him in surprise: "Really? I wouldn't have guessed you were that kind of guy!"
Adrian said uncomfortably: "Do you hate guys like that?
Sorry. I should have told you sooner. Maybe you wouldn't want to hang out with me."
Nick immediately waved his hand no and said: "No, no. That's not what I meant. It just… surprised me. I didn't expect it. I have no problem with it."
Adrian, still a bit doubtful, said: "You sure?"
Nick smiled: "Of course. It doesn't change how I think about you."
Adrian gave a small smile, as if relieved: "Thank you."
Nick, hesitating whether to say it, finally asked: "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure. Go ahead."
Nick paused: "What happened to you in my house that day?"
Adrian, expecting anything but that, stiffened: "It's nothing important. No need to worry."
Nick said worriedly: "You sure?"
"Of course. Don't let it bother you.
But if you want to help me… can I check something?"
Nick nodded.
Adrian gently took Nick's left hand, turned the palm up, and held his own right palm a few centimeters above it. For a few minutes, he focused his energy inward, searching for a path to confirm his suspicion.
Blue and silver energy flowed in a circle from Adrian's hands into Nick's, racing through his bloodstream to scan his entire body for any disturbance.
There was no issue. But suddenly, as the energy returned, passing through the abdomen, the connection cut off completely.
His suspicion turned to certainty. What he'd come here to find was standing right in front of him. Had it really been that easy? No… don't overthink it.
The demonic spirit was hidden in a corner of his heart.
He pulled away from Nick and sat on the sofa.
Nick, following his movements with his eyes, finally asked: "What did you just do?"
Adrian, torn between telling or not, decided to reveal only part of the truth.
"Did you feel anything?"
Nick thought for a moment: "I'm not sure. But it felt like my heartbeat stopped for a few seconds."
Adrian looked into Nick's eyes: "Actually, I transferred my energy into you. You might not fully understand… or believe it. But my job is related to things like that—energy and hidden dimensions."
Nick, now more confused and struggling to comprehend, said: "You mean… witchcraft?"
Adrian lightly tapped his forehead with the back of his hand and laughed out loud: "No, no. Don't overthink it. Just think of it like doctors removing illnesses from the body—I free people from certain parasitic things."
Nick, now understanding a bit better and with something clicking in his mind, said: "So you checked my body to see if I have one of those parasites? Did you find anything?"
Adrian, surprised by how quickly Nick caught on, said: "Well… there's a little parasite hiding in your heart."
He thought to himself that he didn't need to tell him everything—for example, that it was one of the dangerous ones now residing inside him.
At least he could reassure himself that it wasn't harming its host.
Nick, a bit scared and curious, said: "How do I get rid of it? It's really strange to me. I haven't noticed anything. Even now, I don't feel anything. But if you say so, it's probably there, right?"
Adrian pointed to Nick's heart: "I know what kind of parasite it is and its characteristics. But I'm not sure how to eliminate it. Rest assured, I'll help you to the end. And it'd be great if you help me too.
To find a way to destroy it… could you stay at my place for a while?"
Nick looked around the house: "Do I really have to? Our houses aren't that far apart."
Adrian smiled: "Just think of it as being roommates for a short time."
Nick accepted hesitantly: "Okay… but how long will it take to find a way to destroy it?"
Adrian, who already had some ideas, lied: "I'm not sure. Maybe two weeks? Or even three?"
Nick thought for a moment, shrugged, and said: "No big deal. Maybe my bad luck—my house burning and my girlfriend dumping me—was because of this damn parasite bringing me misfortune. So a few weeks isn't much."
.......