Don't Mind The Screams, It's Just Haunted

20250910

Prompt from DailyPrompt.com

Cloe wasn’t daft. Sure, the apartment block was old and basic, but if units were going for that price something had to be up.
However, she was broke. So she went to the viewing anyway. Just in case. And raised the unusually low price at the first opportunity.
“Oh,” the landlord said, without batting an eye, “it’s Grade 3 haunted.”
Aha. Vindicated. Cloe folded her arms and frowned. “What kind of haunting?”
Grade 3 just meant ‘disruptive to daily use of the space’. That could be anything from unpleasant smells to glass objects vanishing.
“Screams.” The landlord waved at a vent. “Echoes up out of the filter unit through the whole building. Usually runs from about midnight to three in the morning. We recommend tenets use earplugs, though some people say they can just sleep through it. And if you work night shifts obviously it’s not a problem.”
“…Huh. It’s resisted dispelling?”
“They reckoned we’d have to rip the entire vent system out. Redo the whole building. It’s not worth it at that point. It’ll get sorted whenever renovation happens.”
“Mm.” Cloe eyed the vent. “How did they get haunted?”
“No idea. The police found no signs of anybody dying in the vents, or even the basement. Consultant reckoned the spirit must’ve died somewhere else and ended up latching on here.”
All rattled off in the same polite disinterested monotone used to describe the room dimensions.
Cloe pressed “Annnnd why wasn’t this mentioned on the listing?”
“We got sick and tired of ghost hunters and the like.” The landlord rolled his eyes. “Those idiots are why we had to put ‘do not climb in the vents’ plaques on every grate. They’ll try and badger you into letting them rent a room for a weekend, like we’re a damn hotel, and they’ll angle for an ‘exposure discount’, as if anyone’s more likely to rent here after watching their show! When we added a line about ‘no paranormal investigators or influencers’ they just started lying and then reneging on the contract once they had what they needed. Such a pain. So now we only tell people once they’re interested but before they’ve signed anything.”
“Fair… enough?”
It was cheap. Decent location. Good transit access. And she was up all hours anyway, usually living with noise cancelling headphones on, so… Hm.
“See? It’s not a bad deal, right? Sure, it’s not ideal, but let’s be honest - what renter box at this price point is? At least all the utilities work and the place is clean.”
“Yeah.” Cloe paused. “It’s definitely just screaming?”
“Yep. Been living here over a decade and all we’ve had is noise. Biggest issue it’s caused - aside from the influencer jerks - is if someone ignores safety guidelines and blocks up the vents in their unit. So don’t do that. And if you do, don’t try and make out the resulting mould and stuff is my fault.”
“Got it.”

Moving day went without a hitch. Not like she had much to move. Her main concern was getting her desk and drawing equipment set up. (As far away from the vent as she could manage.) Even with a late start and bad traffic everything was put away long before midnight.
Normally she’d try for an early night, fresh start and all that, but she needed to make sure she could handle what she was getting herself into. While the landlord had been happy to share recordings she suspected the real thing was going to be a whole other level.
So she made herself a cup of citrus tea and a plate of raisin toast, settled herself on her battered little sofa, and started rewatching season two of “Blog of a Nerdy Teenage Werewolf” for the gazillionth time on her laptop. Not bracing, exactly. More bolstering.
Of course it didn’t start at exactly midnight. (Not that she’d been watching the clock.) It was nearly one when a keening wail split the air. Cloe jumped and paused the show, pulling her headphones off to listen.
Ok. Unpleasant, sure. A plaintive, anguished scream which grated on the nerves. However, if rated on a horror movie scream scale, this one was pretty tame. Didn’t sound like the poor soul’s guts were being pulled out or anything. Annoying rather than nightmare inducing. It made her want to go “There, there. I’m sure being dead sucks, but have you tried mindfulness?”.
It was also, she discovered when she put the headphones back on, in the right range to be fairly effectively filtered by the noise cancelling. She was pretty sure she could learn to ignore what slipped through.
Alright. This was workable. Way better than not having a place at all. Better even than the last place she’d rented, whose plumbing might as well have been haunted. At least the vents worked.
Sooo… embrace being fully nocturnal, maybe get a white noise app to assist the headphones, avoid calling or voice chat while the ghost was doing its thing. And dream of one day being successful enough to afford a living space which didn’t have at least one gaping flaw she had to compromise with.
Speaking of, might as well try working on commissions and see how she got on…

Prompt was “Write a piece about a scream. Where is the scream coming from? How long have they been screaming? Will it ever end?”