Luce had seen many strange things in their several-hundred-year career as a soul broker for Hell Corp.
But nothing; not firestorms, not the four-headed manager in Sector D, not even the Succubus Rebellion of '98, could've prepared them for Apartment 6B.
"This is it?" Luce squinted at the crooked doorframe. "This is the so-called sanctuary for the 'Modern Supernatural Being'?"
"It's rent-controlled," said Tansy the witch, who stood beside them like an overworked librarian with half a moon in her hair and a tote bag that smelled suspiciously like sage and expired cheese. "You'll love it. Everyone's… supportive. Ish."
Tansy knocked with a precise rhythm; three soft taps, one hard, and the door creaked open on its own. Smoke drifted out. Not the ominous kind. The burnt-toast-at-2AM kind.
From inside, a voice called, "Roxy! The toaster's fighting back again!"
Another voice yelled, "That's not the toaster! That's Vlad!"
Tansy stepped in calmly. Luce followed, adjusting their leather jacket and ignoring the distinct smell of werewolf fur and… was that ghost glitter?
The living room looked like Halloween exploded during finals week. There were beanbags, half-melted candles, ancient scrolls being used as coasters, and a ghost lounging upside down in the air, watching a YouTube makeup tutorial.
"Hi, I'm Casper!" the ghost beamed, doing a flip. "Are you our new trauma buddy?"
"Excuse me?" Luce blinked.
"Our support group," said Vlad, sweeping in dramatically from the kitchen like a vampire version of Benedict Cumberbatch. "We hold weekly meetings. Sundays. Emotional purging. Catharsis. Herbal tea."
"You brought tea last week and it tried to bite me," Roxy muttered, curled up in the corner under a weighted blanket, eyes glowing faintly yellow.
"It was experimental," Vlad sniffed.
Luce turned slowly. "So let me get this straight: I gave up a corner office in Hell for this?"
Tansy smiled serenely. "We're all working on ourselves here."
"Some of us are working harder than others," muttered Roxy.
"I heard that," said Casper.
"Good," Roxy barked.
Before the argument escalated into full moon levels of drama, Tansy clapped her hands. "Let's not scare off the new roommate on their first day. Luce, pick any room. Except the one with the mirror that screams."
Luce narrowed their eyes. "Why does it scream?"
Roxy deadpanned. "Because the last demon roommate tried to summon their ex through it."
Casper floated closer and whispered, "They were hot, though."
Luce sighed. Maybe they were burned out. Maybe a break from contracts, pitchforks, and eternal damnation would do them good.
Maybe.
But as a vampire microwaved blood in the background and a werewolf tried to hide anxiety claws under fuzzy socks, Luce realized one terrifying truth:
They might actually like it here.
Even worse?
They might fit in.