Home at last, I stumbled through the door, fatigue weighing heavily on my shoulders. The clock read eight, and the absence of lunch gnawed at my insides. Starving, I resolved to whip up some pasta after indulging in a soothing shower.

As I stood beneath the cascade of warm water, I felt it glide over my body, each droplet a gentle caress. My dark brown hair surrendered to the rhythm of the stream, flowing freely as I closed my eyes, savoring the enveloping warmth. The lather of soap clung to my skin, a delicate layer reminiscent of fresh December snow.

But the tranquility was abruptly shattered by a sudden chill. A gust of cold air swept through the bathroom, sending shivers across my skin and causing my legs to wobble beneath me. With a swift motion, I turned off the faucet, gathered my hair into a towel, and wrapped myself snugly in another, seeking refuge from the unexpected chill.

I dared not lift my gaze, for the dread of what lurked in the shadows gripped my heart. Just as I was about to slip into my everyday attire, I felt a chilling embrace—ashy gray hands encircled my waist, their touch like ice. A cold jaw pressed against the tender curve of my neck, sending shivers down my spine.

I knew I had to maintain my composure, to feign ignorance of the spirit's presence. As I attempted to loosen the towel that clung to my body, the grip around my waist tightened, a vice of spectral strength. I struggled to free myself from the fabric, but my efforts were in vain.

In an instant, the spirit's grip shifted, seizing my neck with a brutal force that yanked me backward. A gasp escaped my lips, my breath caught in my throat. My legs flailed helplessly, knocking over a delicate vase, sending shards of porcelain scattering across the floor.

The spirit loomed above me, its grip constricting as I felt my tongue swell with revulsion. It had no face, just an empty void where features should have been. My vision blurred, and I fought against the encroaching darkness. Just when I believed my struggle was futile, the pressure around my throat was suddenly released.

It was the eyeless monster, a figure of both terror and salvation. She had ensnared the spirit that sought to suffocate me, her grip unyielding. Her head turned toward me, as if assessing my well-being—or perhaps seeking to reassure me. But before I could process the moment, a sharp knock echoed through the air, jolting me from my thoughts.

I glanced around, and the spirits had vanished without a trace. The knocking persisted, urging me to rise and answer the door.

When I finally opened it, I was greeted by the sight of my new neighbor, who also happened to be my boss, Jungkook

Jungkook's pov...

After a long and exhausting day, I finally returned to my new apartment, collapsing onto the crisp duvet that awaited me. The fresh aroma of my room enveloped me as I kicked off my shoes, my legs moving effortlessly while my arms sprawled out beside me in a state of utter relaxation.

With my eyes closed, I began to feel my body unwind, teetering on the edge of sleep. Just as I was about to drift into a peaceful slumber, a sudden crash jolted me awake—a flower vase had toppled over, followed by a flurry of hurried movements. Frustration bubbled within me at the interruption, and I rose to confront my neighbor.

I knocked forcefully on the door, my irritation palpable. The noise subsided, and just as I was about to turn away, I heard the unmistakable sound of a lock clicking open behind me.

Spinning around, I prepared to unleash my annoyance, but my words caught in my throat. There stood Elliot, clad only in a towel, droplets of water cascading down her damp hair. Some of those glistening beads vanished into the soft folds of the fabric that clung to her form.

My gaze drifted down to her neck, and to my astonishment, I spotted deep bruises that promised to bloom into a ghastly shade of purple. A wave of concern washed over me as I lifted my eyes to her face. She was unnaturally pale, as if she had just seen a specter. Struggling to catch her breath, she attempted to speak, but her words were trapped, lodged somewhere in her throat.

"Are you alright?" I asked, reaching out to grasp her hand. She opened her mouth as if to respond, but her eyes darted past me, filled with a fear I couldn't comprehend. I was bewildered by her tendency to look away whenever our eyes met.

Before I could voice my confusion, her legs buckled beneath her, and she collapsed right before me.