I Inherited It, and It Turned Out to Be a Ghost Story - Chapter 2

If the fire alarm hadn’t struck her head again, her mind would have been completely consumed.

WEE-OOOH, WEEEEEEEE-OOOOOH!

At the wailing of the alarm, her mind—sinking like a swamp—snapped back as if drenched in cold water.

Not realizing that her focus had faded and her consciousness had scattered, Ordelphia flinched at that damned alarm that tore through one’s nerves like a steel blade.

“Ugh, uuugh.”

She desperately forced strength into her eyelids, trying not to close her reddened eyes.

Ever since the alarm had started, all these strange behaviors she displayed were actions she’d learned from the hotel rulebook.

WEE-OOOH.

Hearing the alarm ring out even louder, as if it had no intention of stopping, Ordelphia briefly regretted coming to the hotel.

“No.”

But she quickly gritted her teeth and shook her head. For better or worse, she had already left the mansion and was now on her own.

She didn’t know what was happening, but she couldn’t leave the hotel until she achieved her goal.

Fortunately, even though she couldn’t remember the entire rulebook, a significant portion remained in her memory—enough to help her survive this bizarre situation.

WEE-OOH! WEEEE-OOOH!

Damn this fire alarm! How long is it going to go on?

Hillgrace Hotel Rule No. 3: When the fire alarm rings, cover your ears and do not close your eyes. Stay hidden until it passes.

Until it passes. She just needed to endure until then.

But what exactly was supposed to ‘pass’? The question came too late.

Huff. Huff. Huuuuuff.

They say when you see a ghost, the ghost sees you too.

She’d merely held a legitimate question, not curiosity, about something she couldn’t understand or recognize.

But before she realized it, the unidentifiable creature had already come close.

Four legs.

Crawling? Walking? It was unclear.

She couldn’t make out the head. It stood too tall.

Vague as if shrouded in fog, its form was formless—like mud flowing down. It was impossible to describe.

The only thing Ordelphia understood upon seeing ‘it’ was this:

That was a disaster. Something against which resistance or escape was meaningless. The only choice was to stay hidden and hold her breath until it passed.

She didn’t want to know why she had to cover her ears or why she must keep her eyes open.

Once again, Ordelphia faced danger.

In a situation like this, most people would scream or convulse in fear.

But she had to clench her twitching lips to stifle the laughter that was about to burst out.

Because she was ‘alone,’ it was even harder.

Ever since realizing that contact with others shared her emotions, she had repressed and even killed off her own feelings hundreds, thousands of times since childhood.

When alone, Ordelphia couldn’t control her twisted, distorted emotions.

So the effort to suppress her grotesque laughter only half-succeeded.

“Pfft.”

With her ears covered, her own laughter sounded even louder. Just as she reflexively closed her eyes, forgetting the rule—

“Why are you laughing, sis?”

Realizing someone was there, all emotions—fear, surprise, laughter—sank instantly into the depths of her soul.

Expressionless, Ordelphia stared blankly at the child who had suddenly appeared.

He looked, by all accounts, ‘human.’

But having just witnessed something unexplainable, she couldn’t be sure this child was truly human.

Still, she neither trembled nor hesitated in fear.

Even if he wasn’t human, he at least looked like one on the outside, and that was enough to keep her emotions steady.

The child, who had appeared out of nowhere, widened his round eyes even further and tilted his head.

Because the older girl who had been standing blankly alone had suddenly burst into laughter, only to erase it completely.

Just as the child was about to speak again, Ordelphia beat him to it.

“I didn’t laugh because it was funny.”

“You laughed even though it wasn’t funny?”

“I said that’s not it.”

Ordelphia, who had answered so coldly that one might ask if she was angry, suddenly realized.

That the four-legged ‘thing’ had already passed—and that she had just stepped into the lobby of her destination, Hillgrace Hotel.

She also noticed the very unsettling, strange fact that despite being taller than the hotel itself, ‘it’ had clearly passed through the lobby and gone further inside—but she buried that thought in the back of her mind.

After all, despite how loud the fire alarm had been, the child before her looked far too calm.

There were too many things she couldn’t understand, but she was used to pushing aside her doubts.

No one had ever given her answers when she was curious, not even in the past.

As she silently stared at the hotel lobby, the child leaned in next to her.

“Is there something fun? I wanna see too. Me too.”

Having seen Ordelphia laugh during a strange moment, the child, perhaps misunderstanding, tugged on her skirt and whined.

The next moment, with a blank expression, Ordelphia reflexively shook off the child’s hand.

Smack!

The child looked back and forth between his rejected hand and her icy demeanor, his eyes widening in shock.

As children do, he immediately began to tear up.

Ordelphia looked down at him and spoke, face still expressionless, “Sorry.”

“Do you hate me?”

“It’s not just you. I don’t like anyone. No, I mean… ha… it’s not you I hate. I just hate being touched.”

Even though her words came out like she was chewing them bitterly, the child didn’t seem to fully understand and looked even more tearful, his lips quivering.

A normal person might have tried to comfort the child with an awkward expression.

But Ordelphia, who had grown used to restraining her emotions to avoid any accidental contact with others, didn’t try to approach him hastily.

With a stiff face, she didn’t move and added, “Just don’t touch me. I don’t hate you. I only just met you, so how could I like or dislike you already?”

“T-touch you? When did I touch you?”

Seeing the child’s still-confused face, Ordelphia tapped the hem of her skirt.

Only then did the child exclaim, “Ah!” and widen his tear-filled eyes, pointing at his own chest.

“So you really don’t hate me?”

“Like I said, I don’t even know you. Why would I hate you?”

Though her response was cold and curt, the child seemed satisfied and quickly smiled.

“But why are you alone? Where are your parents?”

As she asked the obvious question upon seeing a child alone, Ordelphia glanced around.

The polished floor and the well-organized hotel lobby were eerily silent.

Narrowing her eyes and scanning every corner, Ordelphia concluded the child must be lost.

She figured the reception desk would take care of it once she brought him there.

“Come with me over there.”

“Huh? Uuuuh… I wanna go out.”

“It’s dangerous to go alone.”

Only after saying it did she realize—this hotel really was dangerous.

From the start, with all those strange rulebooks and odd warnings, she’d already felt something was off…

“I’m not alone!”

“Stop being stubborn.”

“I said I’m not alooone!”

“Right now, your parents aren’t here. You are alone.”

As Ordelphia didn’t back down, the child puffed up his cheeks in frustration and raised both arms.

“Then I’ll go with you! Pick me up. Please? Pick me uuuup.”

He kept begging to be picked up, having apparently forgotten that she had just said she didn’t like to be touched.

Ordelphia didn’t get angry or annoyed—she simply ignored him and slowly increased the distance between them.

She had long since become skilled at handling people who didn’t believe her when she said she disliked being touched, or treated it like a joke.

“Sis! Let’s go out! Let’s go oooout!”

To an onlooker, Ordelphia’s expression as she stared at the child waving his hands at her might have looked suspicious or even disconcerting.

But she didn’t abandon the child or leave him behind, even as she avoided his little hands to the end.

She had pushed down all feelings of pity and empathy deep within herself, but her nature wouldn’t allow her to simply ignore someone clearly asking for help.

And if something serious were to happen after she left him alone based on nothing more than his own words, it would be more than just a problem.

“Are you really sure your parents are nearby? You keep saying you’re not alone, but lying isn’t okay.”

“They were with me just a little while ago!”

The child, shouting as if wronged, suddenly stopped sniffling and smiled brightly while waving his hand vigorously behind Ordelphia.

“Uncle!”