An old mansion on the edge of a cliff enveloped in a dim fog.
The interior, with its moldy old walls and antique furniture covered in a thick layer of dust, always had an inexplicably gloomy air.
This is a place where it wouldn't be strange if a ghost appeared at any moment...
"Isabelle, Isabelle!"
"..."
So this place is...
"Isabelle~!"
Shit.
Isabelle's expression, which had been creating a lively atmosphere, was crumpled by the voice that was calling out as if she was out of breath.
Isabelle turned her head, suppressing the irritation rising in her. She sees a middle-aged man hiding behind a statue, shivering like an aspen tree.
He looked back at the empty hallway again and asked in a low voice.
"Oh, what do you think? Is it really there?"
"Hmm."
Isabelle nodded, running her fingertips over the peeling wall.
"He's definitely a serious guy. He seems to have a deep grudge."
"Damn it! Of all people, it had to be a ghost! I spent so much money on this villa!"
Count Otaire's face turned pale and he began to murmur.
To summarize his story, it was like this.
It turns out that the villa the Count recently bought for a lot of money is a ghost spot where strange phenomena occur every night.
For example, a vase on a table falls down, or a crying sound is heard in an empty room...
It was a repertoire so predictable that it made Isabelle yawn.
"Isabelle. Don't just sit there. Do something! You deserve your money!"
Count Otaire began to make a fuss, pulling at the hem of Isabelle's black dress.
"I didn't hire you, a ghost expert, for nothing!"
A loud voice filled the wide hallway.
Isabelle slapped the Count's plump hand with an annoyed look on her face.
'Oh, there's a wrinkle in my new dress.'
She vowed to add the cost of drying to the commission fee, and snapped at him curtly, shaking out her skirt.
"Count Otaire's voice is so loud that even the hidden ghosts will come out."
"... Eek!"
Count Otaire jumped into the air and quickly covered his mouth.
The eyes, bulging like a frog's, rolled around in fear.
"You're trembling to this extent, yet you're acting like a fool."
Isabelle turned away with a pitiful look.
"Then I'll have a chat with the ghost for a moment. Just so you know, you must never come inside the bedroom."
He nodded his head up and down nervously at the meaningful warning.
Again, again, again,
As Isabelle entered the bedroom, a voice as muffled as an ant's nose crawled behind her.
"Hey, Isabelle! Please shoo the ghost away! Fighting!"
***
Crunch.
I shook my head and locked the bedroom door tightly.
After this commission is over, I'll have Sophia create a customer blacklist.
'By the way...'
My indifferent eyes, which had been turned away from the door, suddenly became sharp.
At that moment, blue smoke rose from the darkness where nothing could be seen.
The ashen eyes slowly turned a dreary purple.
***
[Dohana's new work 'Invisible Whisper' continues to receive harsh reviews... Is her heyday over?]
One of them was looking at the laptop screen, biting her lower lip as she clicked on an internet article.
[assy911: The writing is definitely not as good as it used to be. It seems like a patchwork of scary stories these days.
Disappointed--- I'm an idiot for having read it with high expectations. Now even Do hana has lost its way.
Do hana retired! But there was a rumor that the reason why you didn't release any works for several years was because of a's lump?]
Bang!
One day, while checking the comments on the explicit article, he couldn't stand it anymore and closed his laptop.
"Where on earth did that rumor come from?"
<Invisible Whispers> was Hana's new work released after three years. The reason was as written in the comments.
A terrible slump.
'It's all because of that damn constitution...!!'
Dohana, a famous horror novelist, had a deadly secret: she couldn't feel the emotion called 'fear'.
Even after watching famous horror novels and scary videos floating around on the market, and even visiting abandoned houses that are said to be haunted by real ghosts, it wasn't enough to make me feel scared.
The constitution I thought was nothing special at first eventually ended up holding me back.
I've always had a hard time creating dramatic fear because I don't know where the reader will feel scared.
How can a so-called horror novel writer not feel fear?
Isn't that like a chef not being able to taste and a perfumer not being able to smell?
From then on, I started studying 'fear'.
I searched for anything scary, whether it be a novel, movie, or drama.
If you can't feel it, you have to understand it with your head.
But there were limits to this.
It was at that moment that I, who was looking at the pile of books in one corner of the room, tightly closed my eyes.
Ding dong-
My heart skipped a beat at the sudden doorbell ring.
A body turned towards the front door at the unexpected visitor.
'Who is that at this hour of the morning? Are you drunk?"
I tried to ignore it, thinking they must have come to the wrong house.
Ding dong-
The doorbell rang again.
"Who the hell are you?"
One of them sat up, frowning.
At that moment, the previously quiet desk clock began to ring loudly.
Follow me!
I turned my head in surprise and narrowed.
[am. 04:44]
'Why is the alarm suddenly going off at this hour..."
Ding dong!
Even in that brief moment, the doorbell continued to ring, urging one person to come.
"Wait a minute."
I turned off the alarm in a hurry and hurriedly headed towards the front door. Then, I put my eyes on the round lens.
'What? There's no one here?'
I opened the door slightly, looking into a small hole with no light.
But outside, there was only pitch-black darkness and no sign of life.
Was I a drunk after all?
As I close the door, something thuds beneath my feet.
"What is this?"
I, bending over, picked up a square box and looked through it.
'Is this the reference book I ordered?'
They say that delivery drivers are working hard day and night these days, and it's true.
I, who had placed the package on the table, seemed possessed and began to peel off the tape on the box, which did not even have a sender's number attached.
I thought it was quite heavy, but it actually contained a thick book.
A question mark appeared on my face as I looked at the unfamiliar book.
"...Did I order a book like this too?"
'The ghost-seeing princess of the Herpelder Dukes? It doesn't seem that scary, so why did you ask me to do it?'
I tilted my head and opened the first page.
[Long ago, a terrible curse was placed upon the Duke of Herpelder in the Celessian Empire: the birth of a Princess who could see ghosts.]
Just when I was about to lose my cool at the introduction to a typical cruel fairy tale.
"...Ugh."
A sudden headache caused the book he was holding in one hand to fall to the floor.
My body, gasping for breath from the pain that seemed to pierce my brain, fell headfirst onto the desk without regaining my balance.
Beyond the blurry vision, letters appear to overlap and blur together.
[The Princess's name is...]
***
"... Isabelle! Isabelle!"
Boom, bang, bang
A noise like a door breaking broke the memories that had been soaking in for a long time.
'Ah. That truth.'
Isabelle, whose throat was filled with swear words, turned around and glared at the door.
What else?
"Isabelle! Are we there yet? I'm scared to be alone. Sob."
...Are you crying now?
I got goosebumps all over my body when I saw a balding, pot-bellied man sobbing in fear.
To me, that sight was a million times more terrifying than a ghost.
"...Never come inside."
I gave another stern warning, sighing deeply as I pushed back my flowing hair.
Anyway, to finish the story from earlier, the name of the cursed Princess of Duke Herfelder is 'Isabelle Dore Herfelder'.
As you might have guessed, I was possessed by Isabelle.
It was a whole year ago.
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