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When I heard what she said, I shot to my feet and looked her dead in the eye.
This wasn’t a joke. John Miller had been dead for over two weeks. How the hell could he climb onto her bed?
But Lily stared at me, then suddenly let out a sharp, piercing scream. “It’s true!” she shrieked. “He’s on my bed! He put that thing on me again!”
As she lifted her skirt, there it was again. That same milky-white fluid on her thigh.
I didn’t need a lab to tell me what it was.
I froze. This was way beyond anything I could explain — none of it made sense anymore.
I made the call right then — I had to see this with my own eyes. I followed Lily Johnson back to her home.
When we arrived, their front security door was wide open.
I rushed inside, but the place was empty.
Lily came in right after me, her hands trembling, voice breaking as she pointed to the bed.
“There... two people. Look at the marks. He was here!”
"Look,he,he really came back!"
I frowned and stepped closer, scanning the bed. Sure enough — two distinct indentations on the sheet. And on the right side… the unmistakable smell of cigarettes.
I turned to her and asked, "Where's your mother?"
Lily was trembling from head to toe. “She’s on a business trip,” she said. “It’s just me here.”
I suddenly took a deep breath. Lily’s face didn’t look like she was lying.
But could ghosts really exist?
The night felt colder, heavier — eerier by the second.
Lily had completely broken down. She clutched my arm like a lifeline, too scared to move, sobbing and begging me not to leave.
Things had spiraled too far. Looking at the crying girl beside me, my heart softened.
No matter how strange she’d acted before — she was still just a seventeen-year-old girl.
It was normal for her not to be able to handle so much trauma in such a short time.
I guided her back to the bed and gently patted her back, trying to calm her down.
Then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed something — the door to the bedroom directly across from Lily’s had a slight crack.
At first, I didn’t think much of it. But the very next second, a chill shot up from the soles of my feet to the top of my skull.
The lights in their living room had been turned on when we came in just now. By that light… I saw it.
An eyeball — pale, unmoving — stared out from the crack in the door. And just beyond it… the faint outline of half a human face.
Every hair on my body stood on end. I jumped to my feet.
Something was wrong. There was someone else in the house — someone we hadn’t seen.
