Diving into the recorded history of Carosh's executions proved more interesting than Niram expected. Looking at the logs on the desk in front of him, he never expected to see the kind of stories that were written down here, and probably neither did the elders, else they wouldn't have sent him down here.

  "Ahh, look here, Nir!" Kiesh called, levitating a book from the pile towards him. "This one's about Yoseo."

  Intrigued and looking for a bit of bargaining chip for when he next saw the ghost, Niram leaned forward.

  Yoseo Kens, blacksmith and shoe tanner, was found dead on his bedroom floor in the early hours of the morning, before the first crow of the rooster. Due to the disheveled look of the room at the time of discovery, it was concluded that Yoseo Kens was murdered.

  "So that's why he's always grumpy," Kiesh muttered, to which he was immediately shushed.

  "Quiet," Niram shushed. "Let's read the rest."

  Despite the public census being to ignore the event and call it a day—as usual in Carosh—an investigation was carried out nonetheless.

  His wife, Naseil Kens, who at the time of her husband's death, was away from home at a market in the next town, came home that morning to the body of her husband on the floor of their bedroom, declared the act as "wicked" and swore that "whoever did this to my husband, my dear Yosi, will die a very gruesome death".

  Naseil, when asked about the argument she and Yoseo had been overheard having two days prior to his death, replied that it was a brief couples spat and was settled that night. More investigations carried out revealed that the loving husband hadn't been as loving as people had thought, having been witnessed a couple of times by neighbors who saw him with a sex worker in his arm, sometimes it both.

  Although the case was never solved, the outcome of Yoseo's infidelity became a wake-up call for other infidels out there.

  Niram looked up at Kiesh who was visibly struggling to hold back his amusement.

  "Now," he said. "We know why he's always grumpy."

  "You know it was his wife who killed him, right?" Niram said.

  "Of course, it was his wife!" Kiesh laughed. "Why else would he choose to stay on the opposite side of the graveyard, as far away from her as he could get?!"

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Niram could only shake his head, picking up the open log on the table. "Alright, let's get back to work."

  The study they were situated in was conveniently how Niram had imagined it to be. Four ceiling-high shelves were placed on the four corners of the room, stacked entirely with different kinds of books, from accounting logs to death logs and even solved and unsolved mysteries that had occured in the town. Looking through some of those unsolved cases, Damien knew for a fact that a majority of them had been committed by mischiefs. Though they were repented now, he knew how often they still boasted about their feats to the ghost kids in the yard.

  Adjusting his sitting position on the wooden chair, Niram began tracing his fingers down the list of executions.

  He knew how time-consuming looking through the entire log would be, and they were pressed for time, so he began by filtering out some and looking through the ones that were carried out on the vilest of criminals.

  He went past a bandit who'd murdered his partner, hacking the other man to death with a rusted machete. This one had been burned on a stake slowly and excruciatingly, a punishment meant for all apprehended bandits. He scrolled through the report of a thief who'd been unfortunate as to end up in the abode of a hunter. Niram frowned at that. What level of stupidity would require one to try their hands on the property of a hunter? Shaking his head, he continued.

  For the next hours, Niram and Kiesh went through an extremely long list of names, pouring through logs and events of some of the most heinous crimes committed in Carosh. At the second hour mark, Niram was already beginning to get frustrated with their inability to find anything resembling what they wanted.

  "The robber who got mauled to death by the farmer's dog?" Kiesh suggested.

  "No," Niram shook his head.

  "The eye stealer?" Kiesh said again, suggesting a serial killer who'd, at one point, had terrorized the town thirty years ago. She'd been caught in a failed attempt at plucking out the eyeballs of her live victim. Apparently, the victim hadn't been as deeply unconscious as she'd thought. Her execution had been in the form of a full-body acid bath.

  "No," Niram shook his head.

  "Okay," Kiesh said, turning to another page with the aid of telekinesis. "Let—"

  "Hold on," Niram interrupted, an idea forming in his mind. "The grandfather building is older than any of the buildings in town."

  "Yes," Kiesh answered, even though Niram hadn't phrased it as a question.

  "A building as old as that must have had lots of stories told about it..."

  "Yes..." Kiesh looked at Niram with confusion. "Where are you going with this, Nir?"

  But by then, Niram was already beating himself up for not figuring it out early. "I can't believe we didn't think of this earlier!"

  "Niram, what?"

  "The house, Ki, the house..." Niram turned toward his best friend. "The terror must have died there; and surely, something like that would have been written down."

  "You don't know that," Kiesh said.

  Niram rewarded him with a raised eyebrow. "A town that has enough time to investigate the murder case of an unfaithful husband... You're suggesting they'll ignore a murder case in their very own relic building, especially one as haunted as this?"

  "... Good point."

  Niram sighed. "We need to speak to the mayor, again."