Even though the corpses of some of the people Micaela had killed years ago had been found by the authorities, the mansion had neither been sealed nor demolished.

Some of the victims' deaths had been blamed on an unknown serial killer, who'd most likely passed away a long time ago-according to the average species' life expectancy-while the rest were ruled either accidental or natural.

Although it became one of the primary subject of conversion for a few months, all talks about the events of that night gradually left place to more recent incidents and fresher gossips.

Needless to say, the rumours pertaining to the haunting of the Declan Mansion didn't last long either.

In the end, the belief that there were murderous ghosts haunting it returned to what it'd been for a few decades already:

An urban legend.

Two and a half years later, the owner had still not set foot into the Declan Mansion.

Even the metal boxes that routinely came for clean-up whenever the mansion was vacant didn't show up.

While one could have found some semblance of satisfaction in the fact that the residence hadn't been rented out since that fateful night, Micaela was not one to find solace in such meagre consolation.

As expected, the ghost had always been more concerned in the shloorg's fate than in the noisy invaders'.

"The moment I get my claws on that bastard, I'm going to tear all of his balls out and feed them to him on a fork. I'll cut off his tongue and empty a jar on salt in his mouth. I'll pull his teeth out one by one and make a necklace from them!"

She circled the room in the air while enumerating the endless list of things she would subject the landowner to if she ever managed to get her claws on him-which she never once doubted would happen, as opposed to the sceptical Drag.

"I'll cut his limbs off and have him eat them bit by bit."

The childlike voice she used as she giggled while picturing every scene vividly made the threats all the more chilling.

Seated at the study table, with books and papers scattered all around and shelves fallen over, Drag's attention never strayed from the thick book in front of him.

He was visibly more concerned about the difficulties in turning its pages with his big hands than about the ghost circling around above his head, spouting promises of inflicting (forced) self-cannibalism unto others.

"What if you went out and searched for him?"

A hazy head suddenly popped out of the table and through his book.

Micaela's features were twisted in perverted eagerness.

Drag cast her a brief look of contempt.

"I am aware that would be asking a little too much, but can't you act like a normal individual and QUIETLY pray that he's long died in a ditch somewhere?"

Drag slammed a fist on her head.

Of course, his hand passed through and landed straight onto the pages stained by time. His breathing accelerated.

Luckily, he'd controlled his strength this time around. The table didn't break.

But the ghost didn't move. She merely stared him at him with her lips pursed.

"I don't understand how anyone can be so boring."

With that, her head disappeared into the table.

In the blink of an eye, she appeared behind him.

"Do you want help turning the page, Draggie Bear?" she asked innocently.

Drag didn't move.

"I'll help you read all the books you want. But first, bring me that b*stard."

Her hair flew upward as if fluttering in a wind blowing from below. Her eyes turned pure black and began to shed dark blood.

Drag stood from his seat.

He only managed to grab onto the sides of the book after multiple failed attempts.

"Why don't you try and be happy the sunny-head shloorg isn't sending any more pests our way," he grumbled under his breath.

After manoeuvring through the pile of papers strewn on the floor, he pulled a shelf from the ground with ease and placed the book where he recalled seeing it in the past.

Drag hated messiness.

However, he hated the idea of engaging in a dispute on the matter with the loudmouthed ghost even more.

Since getting her to be a decent housemate was not an option, and getting her to haunt somewhere else was impossible, the most he could do was silently tolerate her presence.

So he kept any comments about Micaela's way of releasing her frustrations to himself, choosing to once again silently bemoan the loss of the deformed cleaning boxes instead.

"Put everything back the way it was before you leave. If you make a mess, you clean the mess."

He walked out of the study after throwing that final command behind.

Micaela gritted her teeth.

It wasn't enough.

The desire to get that money-hungry b*stard right where she wanted was so enticing.

Ah, if only she could get her hands on all of the remaining members of the Declan family...

Sure, there'd been some waste with some of the past deaths, but she would make sure to make up for those losses with the live ones.

Just the thought gave her the tingles.

Drag's footsteps were getting further and further away.

Micaela tiled her head to the side.

Her eyes were back to their original state, only the blood streaks remained. Her long platinum blonde hair cascaded over her curvy frame.

"Having those tenants around was enjoyable on particularly boring days," she mumbled.

It would be such a shame if Mitch Declan actually stopped sending new victims her way.

As the thought crossed her mind, neither she nor the monster she lived with could have guessed that the man in question was on the verge of bringing some drastic changes to their respective lives.

***

On an islet a few hundred kilometres away.

A blond man with long unkempt hair sat alone at a table in an outdoor restaurant.

He looked haggard and his clothes were so big he appeared to be drowning in them.

The young man's naturally handsome face was no where to be seen. His eyes were sunken, with dark circles underneath.

He looked older than his age and appeared to not have been sleeping properly for some time now.

His dull eyes darted around nervously as he gripped the communication device in his lap tightly.

There was a knot in his stomach.

He couldn't even bear to look at the drink he'd ordered, let alone touch it.

That damned uncle of his and his equally damned mansion!

He clenched his teeth.

Shortly after, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Today was special.

He had to remain calm.

He couldn't allow anything to disrupt his plans.

Not when he was about to finalize a deal he could only think of as the light at the end of the hellish tunnel those demons had thrown him into nearly three years ago.