Chapter Text
There were worse places to stay, Virgil thought, looking over the apartment. It was technically a studio apartment, but only because it had been renovated and the bedroom was turned into the kitchen—something about the previous owner leaving a bag of burnt popcorn under the bed for too long.
The door led into the open space where a bed/dining room would be. Along the wall was the bathroom, a closet, and the kitchen. All tiny, all barely up to code.
He dropped his bag onto the ground, peering closer into the bathroom. It would do. “I’ll take it.”
The real estate agent looked nervous as he glanced around. “As you know, I’m supposed to tell you everything I know about this apartment. The reason it hasn’t been selling is that people believe it to be haunted.”
“Are you sure they weren’t just making excuses because this is a hovel and barely worth it?”
The agent looked offended. “I can assure you I don’t know what you mean.”
“I don’t believe in ghosts and fairy tales. I’ll take because this hellhole is all that I got and no one else wants it.”
He sighed, shoulders falling though he quickly picked them back up. “Alright, if you’ll come with me I’ll introduce you to the landlord, as per their request, then get everything ready for you.”
Virgil shrugged and picked up his bag. Whatever he needed to do to get out of his parent’s house. It wasn’t just a predisposition that he had such a perpetual sullen mood.
Despite the run down appearance of the apartment, the building was relatively new and had an elevator. Everywhere else he looked only had stairs. Guess the lazy were also the wealthy. He was just a broke college student after all.
The landlord’s apartment tucked away in the basement that smelled like rosemary. Terry (Virgil finally read the real estate agent’s name tag) knocked on the door once before walking in. The room was budding with plants and heat lamps. A mattress with a messy spread was laying on the far side with a single lamp lit on the small table next to it. On the left side, the one not taken up by plants were two table with a cloth draped over them. On the side closest to them, a deck of tarot cards and crystals were laying neatly. The other side was something akin to an altar with incense burning.
“So you think you’re a witch.”
“They don’t think anything,” Terry said, making his way through the clothes on the floor. “They know. Charlie!”
The mess on the bed moved and a curly haired gremlin slowly rose. And rose and rose. They were tall, maybe six foot one, but spindly and thin. Their face was ambiguous to their age. For all Virgil new, they could have been sixteen or thirty-six.
“Who is this?” they said, yawning and stepping off the bed.
“This is Virgil and he has decided to rent apartment 424.”
The sleepiness fell from their voice as they grinned, hazel eyes lighting up. “Is that so? Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Virgil, and I hope you find the apartment to your liking.” They turned, looking over the plants before picking up a small lily plant and shoving it into his hands. “Housewarming gift. Rent is due first of the month with a two-day extension the first three. Now, if you’d kindly leave, I have a depression nap to attend to.”
They walked over to the altar, replaced the incense, and flopped down on the bed.
“We won’t be getting anything else out of them.” Terry turned and started to head out. “Do you have any questions that I could answer?”
There was the question of what the hell was wrong with the person that he’s be paying indefinitely, but there was something else that was more important. “Should I really call them landlord?” There had to be something more gender neutral than that.
He snickered. “Yeah. They said being called landlord sounded cooler than person-who-takes-money-once-a-month.”
Virgil shrugged. If that’s what they wanted, who was he to decide otherwise?
“So, other than that, any questions?”
Virgil stared at the floor numbers as the changed, illuminating a small patch of the ceiling. In a few days, he would officially be a college freshman and deal with a whole slew of new people who would all likely get on his nerves and annoy him. Just thinking about it made him want to curl up and go to sleep. And that wasn’t including the teachers who would likely ride his ass.
Unless Terry could answer how the hell he’d survive the next four years, then there wasn’t anything left to say.
“No,” Virgil said as they stepped into the lobby. “No more questions.”