Ghost Hunting Club

Chapter 1

The first thing I learned about wielding a holy weapon was that saving your own life could come at the cost of your entire morning.

My alarm blared beside my pillow, and I slapped it so hard that it nearly fell off the nightstand. I dragged myself upright, immediately regretting the decision when a sharp pain pulsed through my skull.

“What the f-“

I pressed both hands against my temples and squeezed my eyes shut. My head felt as though someone had spent the entire night hammering nails into it. Every heartbeat sent another wave of pain through my forehead, and even the faint morning light slipping through my curtains seemed determined to make my suffering worse.

Caliburn. Of course it was Caliburn. That damn sword had drained nearly every ounce of energy I possessed last night. I should have known better than to summon it after years of avoiding combat, but apparently, nearly becoming spider food had been enough to convince my survival instincts to make an exception. Not that I was particularly grateful for the experience.

Using a weapon consumed spiritual energy. The longer I wielded one, the more energy it demanded. And if I pushed myself beyond my limits, the weapon would begin drawing directly from my life force. In simpler terms, the sword could kill me if I was stupid enough to overuse it.

Wonderful. As if being born into a family of legendary shamans wasn't inconvenient enough, their weapons also came with the delightful possibility of shortening my lifespan. This was precisely why I'd stopped using Caliburn. And yet, there I was, barely able to sit upright after a single fight.

I rubbed my face and forced myself to open my eyes. That was when I noticed the shadow in the corner of my room. The eight-foot figure stood motionless against the wall, its elongated silhouette stretching toward the ceiling. It had no discernible face, yet I could feel its attention fixed entirely on me.

I stared at it. It stared back. I sighed.

“Seriously? Don't you have somewhere else to haunt?"

The figure didn't move. I didn't bother waiting for a response. My apartment was cheap, conveniently located near my new school, and spacious enough for one person. It also came with a complimentary supernatural roommate that refused to pay rent. That was the main reason the landlord had struggled to find a tenant. The place was haunted. Apparently, most people considered that a deal breaker.

Personally, I thought the price was reasonable compensation for having to share my bedroom with a glorified shadow. Besides, the spirit rarely did anything beyond standing in corners and occasionally making the windows rattle. Compared to the monsters I'd encountered last night, it was practically harmless.

I pushed myself out of bed, wincing as another wave of pain struck my head.

“You're lucky I'm too tired to exorcise you," I muttered. The shadow remained silent. Good. At least one of us knew when to keep our mouth shut.

I stumbled into the bathroom and took the quickest shower of my life. The warm water did little to relieve my headache, but at least it made me feel slightly more human.

Afterward, I put on my school uniform, brushed my hair, and stared at my reflection.

Oh, wow. I looked terrible. My complexion was pale, dark circles shadowed my eyes, and my expression suggested that I was one minor inconvenience away from committing a crime. Perfect. Exactly the impression I wanted to make on my first day of school. LOL.

I grabbed my bag and slipped my headphones over my ears. They weren't connected to anything. I simply hoped they would discourage any wandering spirits from approaching me to whisper incomprehensible nonsense. It was a surprisingly effective strategy. Most spirits seemed to interpret headphones as a sign that I was either deaf, unfriendly, or both. I preferred to encourage all three assumptions.

With my bag slung over my shoulder, I left my room and locked the door behind me. The moment I stepped into the hallway, another wave of pain struck. I grabbed the railing and leaned against it, squeezing my eyes shut.

“Damn it."

The headache was getting worse. Of all the days for my body to decide to fall apart, it had to be the first day of class. I couldn't afford to be late. I'd already missed enough opportunities by isolating myself in the countryside, and I had no intention of making a terrible first impression at my new school.

Besides, explaining that I was absent because I had nearly been killed by a giant spider in a cemetery would probably raise a few questions. Questions I had absolutely no intention of answering. I took a deep breath and straightened.

“Come on," I whispered to myself. "You can do this."

One step. Then another. The hallway tilted. I stopped walking. The walls seemed to stretch, and the floor beneath my feet shifted like the deck of a sinking ship. I blinked several times, hoping my vision would clear, but the dizziness only intensified. My knees weakened.

“Oh hell n—"

I lost my balance. I braced myself for the inevitable collision with the floor, already imagining the humiliation of arriving at school with a bruised forehead. Instead, I collided with something warm and solid. More specifically, someone's chest.

A hand caught my back before I could fall, steadying me against a firm torso. Another hand remained near the door beside me, holding a set of keys in the lock. For a moment, I couldn't process what had happened. Then I realized I was practically hugging a stranger. Fantastic.

My first day of school hadn't even started, and I was already throwing myself at people in the hallway. I slowly lifted my head. And froze. Dark blue eyes stared back at me. For a brief second, I forgot about my headache.

Silvery-white hair framed a face that was unfairly attractive for someone I'd rather not see again. His features were sharp, his jaw well-defined, and his expression carried the kind of calm confidence that made me immediately suspicious.

I knew him. Of course I knew him. He was the man from the cemetery. The one who had appeared out of nowhere and saved me from becoming dinner for a gigantic, hideous spider. The same man who had chased a spirit through the park as though it were nothing more than an annoying stray animal. And, apparently, my new neighbor.

Our fates have to be a joke.

I stared at him, trying to reconcile the arrogant stranger from last night with the man currently holding me upright. Up close, his appearance was even more striking. His dark blue eyes seemed unusually vivid against his fair complexion. I hadn't noticed those details clearly last night. Between the darkness, the monster trying to kill me, and the fact that I was approximately three seconds away from dying, admiring someone's face hadn't exactly been a priority. Now, unfortunately, I had a front-row seat.

His gaze moved over my face, lingering briefly on my eyes before settling on my forehead.

“Are you all right?" His voice was low and surprisingly calm. I blinked. Right. I was supposed to answer him.

“Define all right."

One of his eyebrows lifted. I immediately regretted speaking. Why did my mouth always choose violence when my brain was barely functioning? He studied me for another moment before tightening his grip slightly to make sure I could stand on my own.

“You look like you're about to pass out."

“That's a very observant conclusion."

“‘And you're apparently very good at stating the obvious."

I stared at him. He stared back. Oh, I AM going to hate this man. Slowly, I pulled away from him and leaned against the wall, determined to regain whatever dignity I had left.

“Thanks for catching me," I muttered.

“You're welcome."

He said it so casually that I almost wondered whether he realized he'd just saved me from face-planting into the floor. Then again, considering he'd fought a monstrous spider without breaking a sweat, perhaps catching a dizzy girl was hardly an achievement.

There were many things I wanted from my new life. A peaceful apartment. A quiet school. Fewer spirits. No monsters. And, ideally, absolutely no contact with the supernatural world. Apparently, the universe had decided to give me the exact opposite.

Not only had this man witnessed me struggling against a monster, but he'd also seen me at my weakest. He knew I was a shaman, and given the circumstances of our first meeting, I doubted he would forget me anytime soon.

Worse, I would now have to see him every time I left my apartment. I could already imagine the endless questions.

What weapon did I use? How long had I been training? Why was I so weak? What happened to my parents?

No, thank you. I'd rather fight another spider. At least the spider wouldn't try to make conversation. I pushed myself away from the wall and adjusted my bag.

“Try not to haunt my apartment."

His expression changed. Only slightly, but enough for me to notice.

“Haunt your apartment?"

I froze. Damn it. That was not what I meant to say. I cleared my throat and waved a hand dismissively.

“Figure of speech."

“Right."

He sounded unconvinced.I turned away before he could ask anything else.

“Anyway, I have somewhere to be."

“School?"

I stopped. Slowly, I looked over my shoulder. He glanced at my uniform, then at the bag hanging from my shoulder.

“Unless you dress like that for fun."

I stared at him with all the hatred my exhausted body could muster. He smiled. That bastard was enjoying this.

“You're funny," I said without a hint of sincerity.

“I try."

“I wasn't complimenting you."

“I know."

I took a deep breath, silently begging the universe for patience. It was not answered. I turned toward the stairs, determined to leave before he could make another irritating observation. Unfortunately, the moment I took a step, the hallway tilted again.

My knees buckled. A hand caught my elbow.

“Careful."

I stiffened.

“I can walk."

“Clearly."

I shot him a glare. He released my arm, though his expression suggested he didn't believe a word I said.

“Have you eaten anything?" he asked.

“That's none of your business."

“Then I assume that's a no."

“Do you always ask strangers personal questions?"

“Only the ones who nearly collapse on me."

I opened my mouth to argue, then closed it again. Unfortunately, he had a point. I hated it when people had points.

“I'm fine," I insisted, straightening my back. "I just have a headache."

“From what?"

I hesitated. How was I supposed to explain that I'd spent the previous night fighting a supernatural creature and nearly had my life force drained by a holy weapon?

“Didn't sleep well."

He looked at me for a long moment. Then his eyes narrowed slightly.

“You were at the cemetery last night, weren't you?"

My blood ran cold. I stared at him. He remembered. Of course he remembered. I'd been half-dead on the ground while he fought a giant spider in front of me. It would have been difficult to forget. Still, hearing him mention it so casually made my stomach tighten.

“How did you—"

“Your spiritual energy was all over the place."

I went silent. His expression remained relaxed, but his eyes were sharp.

“You shouldn't summon a weapon if you can't handle the cost."

My fingers curled around the strap of my bag. There it was. The lecture I'd been trying to avoid since the moment I first saw him. I lifted my chin.

“I didn't ask for your advice."

“No," he agreed. "You just nearly died without it."

I glared at him. He smiled again. I decided, then and there, that I would rather spend the rest of my life fighting spirits than have a single conversation with this man.

I turned and marched toward the stairs, ignoring the pounding in my head and the weakness in my legs.

“Hey." he called. I refused to turn around.

“What's your name?" he added.

I hesitated. There was no reason to tell him. He was a stranger, an irritating one at that, and I had no intention of becoming involved in whatever he was doing. But we were neighbors. And judging by the way fate had been treating me lately, avoiding him would probably be impossible.

I glanced back. He stood in his doorway, his silvery-white hair falling casually across his forehead. His dark blue eyes held a quiet curiosity, as though he already knew I wasn't going to give him a straightforward answer.

“Someone who wants to get to school without being interrogated."

His smile widened.

“All right, Someone. See you around."

I stared at him in disbelief. Then I turned and continued down the stairs.

I want to kill him. Not literally, of course. But, probably.

My head throbbed with every step, my energy was practically nonexistent, and I had an entire day of classes ahead of me. It was going to be a long day. And if my new neighbor was any indication of what awaited me at school, my dream of living an ordinary life was already in serious danger because there was one thing I knew for certain.

A shaman who wanted nothing to do with the supernatural world had no business living next door to another shaman. Especially one who smiled like he knew all her secrets.

And something told me that this man was going to be a problem.