Ghost Behind You

1.03. The Scene

The police had set up halogen lights that flooded the small bathroom, casting harsh reflections off the white tiles. The air was thick with the acrid stench of burnt protein, strong enough to make anyone gag. In the middle of the narrow, rectangular room lay a pile of black ash. Surrounding it was a ring of yellowish, oily residue. The right hand—the only part of Gary that hadn't burned—had already been taken by the police.

The bathroom was simple. To the right of the door was a sink, cluttered with disposable toiletries: soap, toothbrushes, a razor. The sink itself was bone dry, its drain like a gaping mouth waiting for water. A small mirror hung above the sink, its lower half speckled with water spots, remnants of evaporated droplets. Only the upper corner remained clear, reflecting Rose's tired, bloodshot eyes and the strands of hair clinging damply to her forehead.

Next to the sink was the toilet, with a small gap between them where a floor drain sat, also dry, with faint yellow grit around its edges. A stainless steel towel rack hung above the toilet, with a single disposable towel draped over it—stiff and dry, clearly unused for a long time.

The toilet sat near the far wall, where an old electric water heater clung beside a broken, dust-coated exhaust fan. Directly across, a showerhead hung limply from the wall, its once-shiny surface dulled by years of neglect. The bare wall beside the bathroom door made the space feel even more stark, amplifying the emptiness.

The pile of ash lay in the middle of the floor, in the space where a person would normally stand. The ceiling directly above was blackened with thick smoke residue, the darkest spot in the room. The rest of the ceiling was marked with faint soot, but none as concentrated as the patch above the ashes.

Wearing shoe covers, Rose walked slowly around the room. From what she could see, nothing else had caught fire—only the ashes and the ceiling showed signs of burning. The walls were untouched. If it weren't for the ashes and the soot-streaked ceiling, you'd never believe a person had been reduced to nothing here.

Rose examined the bathroom door next. The lock had been forced open from the outside, meaning someone had to break in. It seemed Gary had locked himself inside while using the toilet. Once seated, he wouldn't have been able to reach the lock to let anyone else in.

She returned to the doorway and flipped the switch, turning off the harsh halogen lights and switching on the dim, incandescent bulb. In an instant, the blindingly white bathroom shifted into a gloomy, yellow-tinged space. The contrast was startling—where the halogens had flooded the room with sterile brightness, the soft, yellow light now cloaked the room in shadows. It was as if the space had reverted to its original state, the way it must have looked before the police arrived. Without the glare, the bathroom felt smaller, more suffocating, the shadows pressing in like the walls of a prison.

A sense of unease crept over Rose.

There was no one else in room 104—just Rose. Yet, a sudden chill ran down her spine, as though unseen eyes were fixed on her, watching her every move. She turned sharply, but the room was empty. Only the half-open door and the silent hallway beyond greeted her. The police had cordoned off the area, and as far as she knew, she was alone in the building.

Rose chuckled softly, mocking her own imagination, and resumed her inspection of the scene.

The bathroom, under the dim light, no longer seemed pitiful under the harsh glare of the halogens. Now it felt as if the room itself was alive, coldly observing the disheveled woman inside it. The stillness of the objects around her took on a strange tension, as though they were straining to escape. Rose was startled by her own thoughts. She stood up from where she had crouched beside the ashes and looked around again.

Yes, there was definitely something off about this place. It was as though her mere presence had disturbed something that lurked just out of sight, waiting for her to make a wrong move. And if she did, it would be ready.

Rose turned again, scanning the bathroom. Still, nothing.

She stepped out into the hallway, exhaling deeply. She didn't like this room. She didn't like the feeling of being watched.

Just then, a voice called from outside: "Detective Li? The medical examiner is here."