Chapter 4: The Haunting Negotiation
Mr. Santosa and his wife sat trembling on the living room sofa. Their eyes darted around, hands tightly clasped. In front of them, Ardian stood calmly with his hands in his coat pockets. Beside him, Kinanti slumped on a plastic chair, her shoulders trembling with suppressed emotion.
"Huhuhu..."
Kinanti's soft sobbing echoed through the room, sending a shiver down the couple's spines. The wife clutched her husband's arm tightly, while Mr. Santosa gave Ardian a pleading look, as if asking, "Please do something…"
Ardian sighed. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to maintain control of the situation.
Kinanti gently caressed her cheek—still red from a hard slap. The sting wasn't just physical. For a spirit of her age and stature, that slap bruised her dignity more than anything else. She was supposed to be respected— a senior ghost. But now? Ridiculed. Slapped. By a human.
"Huhuhu..."
Her cry deepened, almost like a wail. The couple began to look pale.
"Oh come on, cut it out with the crying," Ardian grumbled. "Keep it up and I swear I'll plug your mouth with that flower vase over there."
"You're so mean!" Kinanti sniffled. "You're not even marry me and already resorting to violence!"
"Yeah, right. Who'd marry a ghost that smells like a rotting corpse?"
"Hey, don't judge me! I used to be beautiful, sexy, the village's sweetheart! All men fought for my affection!"
"That was then. Now you smell like embalming fluid. Just stop being so dramatic. Look at Mr. and Mrs. Santosa—they're about to faint from your crying."
"Eh?" Kinanti suddenly straightened up. She bowed repeatedly, flustered. "Forgive me, Sir, Ma'am! I forgot you were here."
"I-it's alright, Miss..." Mr. Santosa replied with a quiver in his voice.
"Did she just apologize?" Mr. Santosa's wife whispered. "Are you sure she's a ghost? This is some Twilight Zone level of politeness."
The couple blinked in disbelief. They had seen their fair share of horror films—ghosts were supposed to be terrifying, mischievous, even evil. But this? This was just... weirdly civil.
Ardian understood their confusion. One of the Ghost Detective Agency's main missions was to show people that the supernatural wasn't always evil. Even with a faith as thin as tissue paper sliced seven times, humans had the power to confront the darkness—because, in the end, God always stood with the light.
As the tension began to dissolve, Ardian took charge.
"Alright, now that everyone's chilled out a bit—can we proceed with the discussion?"
"Yes..." Mr. Santosa nodded.
"Of course…" Kinanti murmured, though her eerie tone still made the room a little colder.
With a gentle hand wave, Ardian temporarily opened Mr. Santosa and his wife's spiritual perception. The couple gasped as they saw Kinanti's real form—a faintly glowing, shy young woman with hollow eyes and disheveled hair, sitting like a nervous girl about to be proposed to.
"Here's the thing, Sir," Ardian began. "Miss Kinanti isn't refusing to leave because she's stubborn. She's just... attached to this place. So I think it's only fair for you to hear her out directly."
"If I may ask… why are you so attached, Miss?" Mr. Santosa asked carefully.
Kinanti took a deep breath. "I've lived here a long time. I feel like I'm part of this home now. But…" She glanced at Ardian, hesitant.
"Just tell them. Let them understand," Ardian said softly, but firmly.
Kinanti nodded. "May I speak to th' yet unknowing world how these things came about."
Smack!
Another slap from Ardian.
"What the hell was that? You're possessed by a soap opera now? You want me to make you kiss a hot muffler next?"
"Ku menangis~ membayangkan~ betapa kejamnya dirimu~..." she started singing melodramatically.
"You sure you wanna finish that?" Ardian said with a devilish grin, holding a broom like a weapon.
Kinanti instantly sat upright, fixing her ragged dress.
The couple chuckled nervously. The fear was fading. This wasn't a scary ghost—it was more like watching a misbehaving child get scolded by her older brother.
"Alright, enough clowning around. Back to serious business," Ardian said.
"Yes, yes…" Kinanti mumbled.
"So here's the thing, Sir, Ma'am," she began again, more composed. "I never meant to scare anyone. I've just… grown fond of this home. It feels like my own."
"But I once heard you laughing… during the day… while the TV was on," Mr. Santosa said.
"Well, it was a comedy show, Sir, you expect me not to laugh?"
"And the crying?"
"Your wife was watching a K-drama. It was sad. I got caught up in the story…"
"And the coffee and fried rice when my wife wasn't around?" Mr. Santosa asked, narrowing his eyes.
"I did that too. Sorry. I just wanted to help. I saw how tired she was."
"But… why would a ghost want to help us?" Mrs. Santosa finally spoke, her voice a whisper.
"Because… I want your family to stay whole. That's all."
Mr. Santosa squinted. "Are you sure that coffee was normal? Not… swamp water or something?"
"Oh, come on, Sir!" Kinanti threw her arms up. "I cook for humans, not fellow ghosts. No blood, no maggots, no sewer water!"
The couple exchanged a look. Their expressions softened. Maybe they'd been wrong. Maybe this ghost wasn't a menace. Just… misunderstood.
"You've heard her yourselves," Ardian said. "She's not here to harm you. If anything, what you thought were hauntings were just misplaced kindness."
"But you said earlier… you still want to stay?" asked Mr. Santosa.
Kinanti nodded solemnly. "Yes. If allowed. But if I must leave, I will. I just… I want to protect this family."
"Protect?" Mr. Santosa repeated, confused.
Kinanti hesitated, then her face turned serious. "Because… there are people out there who don't like your family. They… they mean harm."
The room went cold.
"W-what?" Ardian blinked. "You're just now telling me this?!"
"What? You're just realized now?" Kinanti snapped, finally getting her own back after several slaps.
Mrs. Santosa clung tighter to her husband. "Wh-what do you mean by harm? Who… who would want to hurt us?"
"I can't say exactly. Not yet. But I've sensed them. Watching. Whispering. Lurking," Kinanti said, her voice low and trembling. "They're not spirits. They're… humans. But they use dark things. Forbidden things."
"You mean black magic?" Ardian asked, now serious.
Kinanti nodded.
The lights flickered.
A gust of cold wind passed through the room, despite the windows being shut.
Ardian clenched his fists. "Looks like this is more than just a friendly haunting. Alright. We'll dig into this. But for now…"
He turned to Mr. Santosa. "It's your call. Will you allow Kinanti to stay? Under my supervision?"
The old man looked at his wife. She nodded slightly, eyes misty.
"We'll allow it," Mr. Santosa said. "But only if she promises—no more surprises."
Kinanti placed her ghostly hand over her heart. "I swear it, Sir. I will protect this home with everything I have."
Ardian exhaled in relief. "Then it's settled. And Kinanti…"
"Yes?"
"If I ever catch you watching soap operas and crying again or laughing and scare Mr. Santosa's family, I'm confiscating the remote."
"Deal," she grinned.
And for the first time in a long while, laughter filled the haunted house—not out of fear, but warmth.