Chapter 13: Live from Apartment 3B
956 Words
Chapter 13: “Live from Apartment 3B!”
Jamie stood frozen in his living room as the words “LIVE – Now Streaming” glowed eerily above his head. Ghostie hovered beside him, half-invisible, clutching his haunted iPad like it was a holy relic.
> “Okay. So maybe some apps were cursed.”
Jamie pointed furiously at the hovering camera drone made entirely of bones and ectoplasm.
“Ghostie, there is a spectral camera crew in our apartment! That thing just zoomed in on me picking my nose!”
> “It’s for character depth,” Ghostie whispered.
Jamie ducked behind the couch. “We’re being streamed! On Deadflix! To who?!”
> “Ghosts. Millions of them. Look!” Ghostie flipped his tablet to show a live chat feed:
@RottenRose17: “Omg the living one is such a mood.”
@WailsFromWanda: “Is that a haunted toaster??? I stan.”
@EctoLover666: “That couch has terrible feng shui.”
Jamie groaned. “I haven’t vacuumed in four months. We can’t go live like this!”
> “Too late!” Ghostie chimed. “We’re trending!”
Theme Song and Everything
Suddenly, the walls trembled.
An upbeat jingle blared from nowhere:
> “It’s spooky! It’s kooky! It’s just a bit ooky!
They’re weird and alive—it’s Apartment 3Beeee!”
Jamie stared in horror as ghostly letters formed a cheesy sitcom title card in midair. A glowing “LAUGH TRACK ENABLED” sign blinked above the kitchen.
Ghostie posed dramatically. “Smile, Jamie! You’re the reluctant heartthrob!”
Jamie threw a pillow at him. “I have eye bags, not abs!”
Cut to: Confessional Cam
Without warning, a confessional booth appeared in the corner of the room. It looked like a haunted porta-potty with good lighting. Jamie was yanked into it by unseen forces.
He found himself sitting in front of a blinking camera.
A disembodied voice boomed:
> “Jamie, how do you feel about your new ghostly fame?”
Jamie stared into the lens. “I feel like I’m trapped in a paranormal Big Brother where the housemates don’t sleep, the toaster has opinions, and no one’s paid rent since the Cold War.”
The camera blinked approvingly.
> “Authentic. Vulnerable. We love it.”
Meanwhile, in the Kitchen…
Ghostie had transformed the room into a makeshift set. Brenda wore a little director’s hat. A spectral boom mic dangled from the ceiling. Even the cursed blender had a walkie-talkie.
Ghostie addressed an invisible audience.
> “Welcome back to Haunting With the Stars! Today, I’ll be making spectral soufflé while trying not to possess the fridge.”
The audience (somewhere in the netherworld) cheered.
Jamie peeked in. “Are you serious right now?!”
> “You said we needed income. I’m monetizing our existence!”
“You’re influencing! That’s worse!”
Brenda beeped. “He’s already got 5,000 dead followers. You’re the breakout ‘hot mess’ character.”
Unwanted Fame
Overnight, Jamie became a supernatural celebrity.
He started receiving haunted fan mail.
A ghost goat left ectoplasmic flowers on the welcome mat.
A vampire blogger reviewed his “living aesthetic” as “tragically chaotic, but we ship it.”
A poltergeist fashion line offered to dress him in clothes made of ghost threads (which were entirely invisible).
Even worse, Deadflix began inserting mid-episode ads.
During breakfast, Jamie was interrupted by:
> “This haunting brought to you by SoulCycle™: Because spinning never dies.”
Jamie screamed and threw cereal at the ceiling.
New Characters Join the Show
As if things couldn’t get worse, Deadflix producers started introducing new “cast members” to keep the show “fresh.”
1. Claudia, the Dramatic Witch
She arrived in a cloud of glitter and opinions. Claimed she once dated a banshee and refused to drink anything not served in a chalice. Had three talking cats who hated everyone except Brenda.
2. Morty, the Intern from Hell (Literally)
A demon intern sent up to “gain experience.” Wore a business suit and name tag. Tried to optimize Jamie’s soul using spreadsheets. Took 38 notes a minute and cried lava when stressed.
3. Steve, the Portal Maintenance Guy
Just a chill guy from the Void who kept patching dimensional rips with duct tape. Said he was “just here for the vibes.”
Jamie stood in the living room as these new additions bickered, flirted, and occasionally levitated furniture.
> “Ghostie, our apartment has become a sitcom orgy of chaos.”
Ghostie beamed. “Right?! We’re up for Best Haunt-Based Comedy!”
Jamie Snaps
One night, Jamie lost it.
He climbed onto the coffee table in his pajamas, clutching a spatula.
“LISTEN UP, ALL YOU DEAD, UNDEAD, SEMI-DEAD, AND CONTRACTUALLY HAUNTED FREAKS! I AM A HUMAN! I NEED SILENCE! I NEED COFFEE! I NEED PANTS WITHOUT POCKET DIMENSIONS!”
The entire cast and crew stared at him.
Someone coughed.
Then the confessional booth yanked him back inside.
> “Tell us more about how that makes you feel.”
Jamie sighed.
“…Like I’m the only sane character in a cartoon written by a ghost with Wi-Fi and no filters.”
But Then... A Twist
Just when Jamie was about to shut down the whole broadcast, a final message flashed on the living room wall:
> “Coming up next episode: Jamie discovers who’s really behind Deadflix…”
Ghostie paled. “Wait. You mean it’s not just a ghost app?”
Jamie stared at the flickering screen.
> “Executive Producer: ???”
The screen glitched.
A blurry silhouette appeared.
Jamie leaned in.
And the figure said:
> “Jamie… we’ve been watching you for a long time.”
- Writer
