Chapter 2: Dating the Dead

The spat with Tanya was just a minor blip.

None of us took her talk about “obituary photos” seriously. Recently, Natalie had been chatting nonstop with the cute guy from her dream. She was already calling him her boyfriend and had thrown herself headfirst into an online romance.

It was wild how fast she dove in—but that was Natalie. She loved hard and fast, every crush an epic love story. She’d fall asleep with her phone on her chest, our group chat blowing up with screenshots of their flirty DMs. It was the kind of whirlwind you only get in your twenties, before reality sets in.

They messaged late into the night, every night.

Every morning, Natalie would stumble out of bed, yawning and bleary-eyed, on her way to wash up.

She’d shuffle into the kitchen in oversized slippers, phone in hand, looking like a zombie who’d just crawled out of a crypt. Aubrey would tease her for being love-drunk, but Natalie just smiled, rubbing sleep from her eyes and humming pop songs under her breath.

Tanya was watching her, her eyes sharp. Suddenly she said, cold as always, "Are you really dating a dead guy?"

Natalie was mid-yawn, but Tanya’s words made her freeze. Tanya didn’t even look up, just fiddled with the black ring on her finger. My stomach twisted. Tanya’s words always hit like a cold splash of water.

At first, Natalie thought she’d misheard, but Tanya’s stare was so intense, it set her off. "Tanya, I’ve had enough! I’ve tried to be chill because we’re roommates, but I can’t take it anymore! You’re gloomy every day, talking about obituary photos and dead people. If you can’t talk like a normal person, just shut up! Why do you always have to say such nasty things? You think I’m an easy target?"

Natalie’s voice echoed through the apartment, and I tensed, half-expecting a neighbor to bang on the wall. Aubrey’s spoon froze in mid-air. Tanya just kept fiddling with her black ring, unfazed.

Tanya’s voice was icy and even. "Your eyes look clouded, you’ve got dark circles, and there’s a weird shadow around your feet. Something’s clinging to you. I’d stop dating a dead guy if I were you. If you get pulled into the world of the dead, you’re not coming back."

Natalie’s voice cracked, and she blinked hard, but the tears still slipped out. She was shaking, furious and hurt.

Aubrey jumped in to defend her: "Her boyfriend explained—he said his place is too dark and cramped, so it’s not convenient for video or calls."

Aubrey’s voice was too bright, almost desperate, as she fiddled with her bracelet. She glanced at Natalie, hoping for backup.

Tanya sneered, cracking her knuckles. "He’s not lying. But have you ever wondered—what kind of place is both dark and cramped?"

The answer hit me before I could stop it: coffin. Only a coffin is both dark and cramped.

A chill ran down my back, and I rubbed my arms, trying to shake the image from my mind. The apartment felt too quiet, like Tanya had sucked all the air out of the room.

Tanya kept going, her eyes never leaving Natalie. "No matter how small the place, you can still call, right? He doesn’t dare because his tongue is stiff and heavy, he can’t lift it, can’t speak clearly. If he tries, you’ll hear it."

It sounded insane, but the way she said it made my skin crawl. Natalie’s jaw dropped. For a moment, nobody breathed.

Tanya just grabbed her backpack and left, cracking her knuckles as she walked out. The front door closed with a dull thud. I watched her disappear down the hall—head down, hands shoved deep in her pockets, fading into the shadows.

Natalie finally broke. She paced the living room, voice raw, mascara smudged under her eyes. "I must have the worst luck ever to be assigned a room with Tanya! She just can’t stand to see anyone happy. She can’t make friends, no guy likes her, so she has to take it out on me!"

Aubrey hugged her, letting Natalie sob into her hoodie. The room smelled like stale popcorn and stress sweat.

"Exactly!" Aubrey said, indignant. "Some people are just bitter and twisted, acting all creepy and weird."

The two of them vented, cursing Tanya. I listened for a while, then quietly raised my hand: "But... don’t you think what she said makes sense? Nat, your boyfriend really never calls you."

The words tumbled out before I could stop them. Aubrey shot me a warning look, but I couldn’t help it—the doubt was gnawing at me.

"Jess, what are you saying?" Natalie glared at me, eyes red and accusing. "Are you saying, like that psycho Tanya, that my boyfriend is a ghost? A dead guy?"

"No, no, no," I stammered, shaking my head. "Of course not! I just mean—since Tanya said he won’t call, why not try it? Prove her wrong so she can’t say anything else."

I tried to sound casual, but my heart was racing. Aubrey looked from me to Natalie, then nodded slowly.

"That’s right!" Aubrey snapped her fingers. "Great idea! When you call, record it and send it to the group. Let’s see Tanya get proven wrong!"

Natalie’s mood flipped instantly. "Okay! I’ll talk to Chris later."

Chris was Natalie’s boyfriend.

While we were still in class, a message popped up in our three-person group chat (without Tanya).

Natalie: "Boyfriend agreed to call!"

She sent a screenshot of their chat:

Piggy is flying (Natalie): "Hey babe, I want to call you!"

Stinky baby (Chris): "Huh? But babe, I’m not really up for talking."

Piggy is flying: "Why? I don’t care! If you don’t call me, we’re breaking up!"

Stinky baby: "Shocked.gif" [meme: shocked face]

Stinky baby: "Don’t break up, please, babe."

Piggy is flying: "Just because you won’t call, my roommate says I’m dating a dead guy. I can’t stand it—I have to prove her wrong!"

Stinky baby: "Stunned.gif" [meme: stunned face]

Stinky baby: "Babe, your roommate is too much."

Stinky baby: "I don’t call because... I have a bit of a lisp. I’m afraid you’ll hate my voice."

Piggy is flying: "Don’t worry, I love you most, stinky baby~ I want to hear your voice!"

Stinky baby: "Alright then, when you’re free, we’ll call."

Our phones buzzed with gifs and stickers, a digital hug against Tanya’s weird vibes. Aubrey sent a crying-laughing gif, and I typed out a line of party popper emojis. Natalie was practically vibrating with anticipation.

Natalie was so excited she skipped lunch, dragging me and Aubrey back to the apartment. She wanted us to be witnesses—to her and her boyfriend’s first call.

Aubrey and I barely had time to drop our backpacks before she shoved her phone between us, grinning like a little kid on Christmas morning. The air crackled with nervous energy.

The call connected. On the other end, a voice said, "Babe."

Natalie’s face instantly turned red. She asked shyly, "Have... have you eaten yet?"

The other side replied: "No..."

Aubrey ducked out of view, grinning like a nosy aunt, winking at Natalie.

Natalie pushed her away, trying to focus on Chris.

Chris’s voice wasn’t exactly unpleasant, just... really strange. It sounded like he was talking through a mouthful of marbles, slow and thick, like every word was a struggle. Not a normal lisp—more like his tongue was too heavy to lift.

It was exactly as Tanya had described.

I listened quietly, heart pounding, cold sweat prickling at my skin.

But Natalie was too caught up in the excitement to notice anything weird.

Aubrey cocked her head, listening, her eyes shining with excitement—almost more than Natalie herself.

After hanging up, Natalie was beaming. "My boyfriend does have a bit of a lisp. No wonder he didn’t want to call before. It’s hilarious—just because of this, Tanya actually said he’s a dead guy! I really admire her imagination."

Aubrey said, "Send the recording to her—let’s see if she dares to talk trash again."

"Okay."

Natalie immediately sent the recording to our four-person group chat, tagging Tanya: "The ‘dead guy’ has spoken—do you dare to listen?"

After sending it, we clutched our phones, waiting for Tanya’s reaction.

After a while, Tanya replied with just eight words: "You should listen to it yourselves."

I clicked on the recording, suspicious.

The sound that came out made my skin crawl—like nails scraping inside my head.

In the recording, only Natalie’s voice was normal. The voice replying to her... was not human at all. It was a strange, low moan, like some monster gurgling in its throat—a deep, distorted sound, almost tearing at the ears.

No living person could ever make a sound like that.

We stared at each other, phones forgotten, as the last echoes of that inhuman voice faded. Outside, a siren wailed. Inside, we realized we might have invited something truly terrifying into our lives.