Chapter Text
Keith slammed the back car door shut. He’d elected to ride with Shiro and Allura in Shiro’s car rather than try to brave a ride with Lance. He had made the mistake of riding in a car driven by Lance once and it was not a mistake that one made again. But really, how could he be that terrible of a driver? Keith swore that his life had flashed before his eyes no less than five times and all they had done was driven to McDonald’s. Keith had informed Lance that he was the worst driver ever but Lance had just cackled madly as he tried to drift around a corner.
Lance’s beloved car, Blue, was just now pulling up next to Shiro’s car in the overgrown grass. The shitty speakers in Blue were thumping along to the High School Musical song, “Fabulous”, and once again Keith felt justified in his choice of not riding with Lance. Hunk was the first one to stumble out of Lance’s car, he looked very green and Keith winced in sympathy—he wasn’t prone to car sickness like Hunk but Lance’s driving could make anyone sick. Pidge and Lance exited the car at the same time—Lance was grinning as they glared back at him.
“You know, stop signs are there for a reason,” Pidge snapped at him.
Lance rolled his eyes, “I told you, Pigeon, I didn’t see the stop sign.”
Keith couldn’t help himself; he was just so much fun to poke at. “You couldn’t see a giant red sign?”
Lance rounded on him. “You know what, Mullet Brain?”
“Wha—“
Hunk cut off his response. “Guys, can we not argue in front of the huge, haunted house?”
They all turned their gazes to the Manor of Lions. Despite having already been there before, the partially ruined manor was still breathtaking. It was a huge Victorian styled house with two stories plus an attic. The front door was missing and the few remaining shutters were hanging precariously from the windows. The ivy, left unchecked, had grown haphazardly along the outer brick walls. Trees and flower bushes that must have once been beautiful, when they were being maintained, were now gnarled and overgrown. Most of the left side of the manor was just a burnt out shell. Some of the brick was still standing while other bits of brick were scattered across the ground. Grass and other plants had even started to grow in the rubble.
“Well, I’ll admit that this place is super creepy,” Lance announced.
“It sure is,” Hunk said nervously.
Shiro turned to look at Allura. “Have you ever been here before?”
She shook her head. “I’ve only ever heard stories about this place.”
“Should we head in then?” Pidge said, bouncing on their toes in excitement.
“Oh wait a second,” Keith said suddenly. He pulled his backpack around to his front and unzipped it. “I printed out a blueprint of the manor for everyone.” He pulled out a stack of papers and began handing them out.
“Where did you get a blueprint of the manor?” Allura wondered as she studied it.
“Coran gave it to me,” Keith paused awkwardly. “I sort of told him that I was interested in studying architecture and that I was particularly interested in the Manor of Lions and how it was designed. And well, his grandfather was the one who designed it so I thought he might have the blueprint stored somewhere.”
“You lied to Professor Coran?” Allura asked as she leveled him with a disappointed stare.
Lance on the other hand, held up his hand for a high five. “Alright dude!” Keith grudgingly accepted the high five.
“Although I’d rather you have not lied to get this map, I am still glad we have it. This way we won’t be going in there blind.” Shiro place a hand on Keith’s shoulder and smiled at him before saying, “Alright team, let’s find some ghosts.”
As a group, they walked further up the long driveway towards the dilapidated house. Shiro, as the default leader, was the first one to walk through the doorless entryway. The floorboards creaked ominously as they each stepped into the once grand foyer. Moonlight from the mostly full moon streamed in from the doorway as well as through the broken windows in a way that made it so it wasn't all that dark. Keith craned his neck to stare up at the high ceiling. He noticed the remnants of a large chandelier—it looked like it might have partly fallen at one point. He stared around the rest of the entry room and saw what must have been the rest of the pieces of the chandelier. When he had first been here he hadn't paid much attention to the foyer. He had been far too distracted by the disembodied voice to really gauge his surroundings.
His friends were also staring around the room with looks of awe on their faces. Pidge was staring up at the two grand staircases that mirrored each other up to the second floor. The one on the left side had caved in, creating a huge hole in the middle of the stairs. The right staircase seemed to be mostly intact however. Hunk wasn’t far from them. He seemed to prefer to stand close to someone as he also looked around. Lance was peeking around a doorframe into another room on Keith’s right. Keith watched as Lance grabbed a flashlight out of his own backpack before turning it on and flashing it through the open doorway. Allura was to Keith’s left and he saw that she was staring at a large painting of a man with the same dark skin and silver hair as her’s— he assumed that it was her great grandfather Alfor.
Shiro was the first one to say something and draw their attention back together. He was standing in between the two staircases and he was pointing at something on the wall there. “Hey guys, come look at this.”
They all tried to gather closely around him but Keith found himself standing slightly behind Lance at an angle where he couldn't really see, so Keith dug his elbow into Lance’s ribs to get him to give him a bit of space so that he could actually see. Lance gave an exaggerated gasp of pain and rubbed at his ribs but did move over for Keith— allowing Keith to slide in next to him. In retaliation, however, Lance shoved himself awkwardly close to Keith, or at least, Keith thought he did it in retaliation but the contact was warming up his whole side and it felt more like Lance was leaning on him than pushing him. It felt weirdly nice.
“Is that a lion?” Pidge asked Shiro as they squinted at black shape that seemed to be etched into the wall.
“It looks like it's the black lion from my family crest,” Allura said.
“It's been damaged, or the wall around it has been.” Lance said next to him, so close that Keith could feel the warmth of his breath against the side of his face. Keith suppressed a shiver.
“It looks like it might be the remnants of your family crest but the rest of the lions have been damaged to the point that they’re not even there anymore.” Shiro turned to look at Allura and she nodded her argument.
“Perhaps we should start taking a look around the rest of the house?” Allura suggested to the group. It was met with shrugs and nods.
Shiro took out his copy of the blueprint of the manor and scanned it. “This is a pretty big house and we have a lot of ground to cover. I think it's best if we split up so that we aren't here all night.”
Hunk furiously shook his head as soon as Shiro was done speaking. “Nope, nope, nope, nope! Have you never seen a single horror movie? Or Scoopy Doo? Splitting up is literally the worst thing we can do in a creepy, haunt manor.”
“We’ll split up into groups of two, don't worry Hunk. This isn't a movie or a cartoon. I think we’ll be fine splitting up. If someone needs help they can just call.” Shiro tried to reassure him.
“Actually,” Pidge started. “There isn't any phone service in this area.” They held up their phone to show the little “No Service” up in the left hand corner of the phone screen.
“See!” Hunk gestured frantically at Pidge’s phone, “this is why we shouldn't split up.”
Shiro laid a comforting hand on Hunk’s shoulder, “it's going to be fine, Hunk, I promise. I highly doubt anyone is going to run into anything too serious. Keith has already been here once and he came back fine, right Keith?”
“Right.”
“See? Nothing to worry about.” Shiro smiled at Hunk one last time before turning to address everyone else. “Now, we’ll go in groups of two. Hunk and Pidge will take this floor. Allura and I will go up to the attic which leaves Keith and Lance to explore the second floor.”
The weight that had been pressed against Keith’s side suddenly moved, leaving his side feeling oddly cold as Lance shot up straight.
“Why do I have to go with Mullet Head?” Lance cried in outrage. Keith felt his chest constrict at Lance’s declaration but he ignored the feeling.
“Lance—” Shiro began reproachfully.
“Would you shut up about my hair already! And I don't want to be partnered with you anyway.” Keith snapped.
Lance put a hand over his heart in mock hurt, “excuse you? I'd be the best ghost hunting partner ever!”
Keith threw his hands into the air, “you don't know anything about hunting ghosts! I'm the one that actually knows what I'm doing.”
“Oh for the love of all things good and evil,” Pidge yelled over their bickering. “Would you to just get your asses up to the second floor already? You’re going to scare all the ghosts away with your repressed sexual tension.”
Lance and Keith both spun to stare at Pidge, their cheeks a matching red color, who just smirked at them before pulling Hunk through one of the doors off of the foyer. Keith sighed and folded his arms while Lance mouthed curse words at Pidge’s retreating figure.
“Come on you two, let’s head up.” Shiro lead them up the still intact stairs and into the rest of the house.
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Keith had his flashlight in one hand and his phone in the other which he kept on video as he walked down the dark, grimy hallway. He wanted to make sure that he didn't miss any supernatural activity that may be lurking around. However, there was something interfering with his video and it wasn’t the good, supernatural kind of interfering—no, it was Lance. They had only really been walking for about fifteen minutes but Lance was already driving him crazy—he was singing.
“Am I original? Yeaaaaah. Am I the only one? Yeaaaaaah. Am I sexual? Yeaaaaaaah. Am I everything you need? You better rock your body no—”
Keith suddenly stopped in the middle of the hallway causing Lance ran into him with an “oof”. Keith slowly turned to face Lance, they were standing so close together that Keith had to tilt his chin up to glower at Lance.
“Will you. Shut. Up.” He growled into Lance’s face.
Lance took a step back before throwing his hands out with a huff, “what! I'm so bored right now! For a haunted house, this place is pretty tame. I haven't seen one creepy doll or door that shuts on its own or even a painting that’s eyes follow me! This place sucks.”
Keith was seriously considering punching Lance in his stupid, handsome face—his giant crush on him be damned. “I'm sorry that this isn't living up to whatever horror movie inspired ideas of a haunting you think you have but that's not how the real world works, Lance.”
Lance snorted and rolled his eyes, “so, what? We’re just gunna wander around an old as balls house hoping that we might find something. I thought you saw a freaking ghost here before! Man, this is so lame.”
“You know what, fuck you Lance.” Keith snarled at him, feeling oddly hurt by Lance’s words. “If you’re so goddamn bored then can you leave me the hell alone so that I can do down actual ghost hunting without you messing it up.”
Lance froze for a moment, staring at him. “Fine,” he said, jutting his chin out and crossing his arms.
“Fine.” Keith repeated, hands on his hips as he glared back at him.
They glared at each other for a few more moments until Lance rolled his eyes and stomped past him—knocking their shoulders together in the process. He continued straight down the same hallway they were standing in. Keith watched his retreating figure before turning down a different hallway that was on his right.
Keith took a deep, calming breath. He tried his best to regain his focus as he pointed his flashlight and camera down the new hall. The hall was pretty much the same as the main one but it was a bit narrower and he noticed that there seemed to be more paintings lining the walls. Most of the portraits looked like they were depicting members of Allura’s family; he saw similarities in these painted figures that he saw in his RA. He took care in getting each painting on camera so that he could show the footage to Allura—he thought she might like to see her ancestors.
Keith continued down the hallway for a few more minutes before a soft clanging thunk caused him to freeze. He quickly pointed his flashlight off to his left towards where he thought he heard the noise. Light illuminated a large suit of armor that was displayed against the wall. The metal armor was over six feet tall and the helmet had a large, sharp looking point on the top. In between its folded, metal gloved hands it held a wickedly pointed sword. Keith stared at it for a bit longer before shrugging the noise off—it was probably the wind rattling the old metal.
He turned his flashlight back towards the center of the hallway and took a step to continue on his way but a second, louder thunk caused him to freeze again. He jerked his flashlight back towards the suit of armor. He glared at it suspiciously. Had it moved away from the wall a bit? He took a few steps away from the armor until his back touched the opposite wall. He turned his head to the side and noticed a pair of crossed swords decorating the wall.
Thunk. Clang.
Keith whipped his head back around to the suit of armor.
“Holy shit.” It was advancing on him.
Instinctively, Keith dropped his flashlight and wrenched one of the swords off the wall. Just in time, he managed to block a swing aimed at his head. He hurriedly shoved his phone into the pocket of his sweatshirt and blocked another jab—this one aimed at his stomach.
Keith twisted his body around to dodge a swipe of the armor’s sword. He was no longer backed up against the hallway wall but now had his back to the way he had already come. He swung his sword around and made contact with the armor’s sword so hard that it made his teeth clash rattle. Keith kept retreating backwards, trying to lead the armor back into the main hallway where he would have a better chance of getting away. He twisted under a violent swing of his opponent’s blade before he turned and took off running down the hallway. When he would hear the clanking of the armor catching up he would swing around to clash swords again.
Keith managed to make it out of the narrower hallway and down the main corridor where he took off in the same direction as Lance had gone—his metal opponent just a few steps behind him.
Man, he thought, I’m so fucked.
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Lance was standing in front of a painting with his flashlight pointing directly at it. It had been only a few minutes since he and Keith had parted ways and he did sort of, kind of, feel bad about shitting all over Keith’s ghost hunting adventure. But the thing was that nothing cool, not even slightly cool, had happened yet and Lance was starting to think that this whole haunted manor thing was just a hoax or something. Right now he was trying his best to get the painting of some old dude that kind of looked like Allura, but a lot less gorgeous, to follow him with its eyes. Lance leaned side to side staring at the eyes of the painting—willing them to follow him but it was in vain. This stupid house was worse than that lame kids’ haunted house he’d taken his little brother and sister to a few years ago.
Lance let out a dejected sigh and moved away from the painting, giving up on any hope that he’d see any real ghosts. He made his way further down the hallway, his shoulders slumped, and he flicked his flashlight beam side to side in front of him. He came to a halt when he noticed a door with a medium sized hole in it that was partially open. Lance made his way to the door and slowly pushed it the rest of the way open. He flicked his flashlight around the room, taking in the details. It was a bedroom for a little girl. The peeling paint on the walls looked like it might have once been a pale blue color. The small four poster bed had white lacey bedding that had turned yellow with age and was covered in a thick layer of dust. Large French doors made of mostly now broken glass led out onto a balcony whose railing had rotted and fallen off. The doors were flanked by long, billowy, white curtains that rustled ever so slightly in the breeze. Lance stepped carefully into the room and the floor creaked loudly under him. He pointed his flashlight towards a rocking chair sitting in the corner of the room to inspect it. On the wooden chair was a porcelain doll in a light pink dress. It was sitting up in the chair, its head and body pointed away from him but as he stood there staring at it, the dolls head slowly twisted to face him. Its face was cracked.
“Nope, not today Satan.” Lance squeaked.
He spun on his heel and hurried back to the door but before he could make it there it slammed shut. Behind him the doll let out a high pitched giggle that made every hair on Lance’s body stand on end. He let go of his flashlight to grab the door handle with both hands and he turned it furiously but the door wouldn't budge. Lance jerked his head around to look quickly at the freaky doll that was still giggling madly. It was still staring at him with it cracked face. He jiggled the handle harder in panic. Then he shoved one of his hands through the hole in the door to try and unlock the door from the other side but the handle was too far away.
Lance felt something grab onto one of his ankles and he shrieked, whipping his head down to see the yellowing, white fabric from the curtains wrapping around his leg. He tried to claw it off put it just squeezed around him tighter. Lance banged both hands on the door as loud as he could and started screaming.
“Someone help! HELP!”
He felt the fabric around his ankle start to tug on him and he griped the door handle in one and the edge of the hole with the other, trying to keep himself on his feet as the tugging turned into full on yanking.
Lance turned his head to look over his shoulder and saw that the French doors had been thrown open and that the fabric around his leg was trying to pull him out the door and what he guessed to be other the edge of the balcony. He turned back to the door and screamed louder.
Just then Lance saw two figures racing down the hallway towards him. One looked like a giant metal man with a sword who was chasing someone in a red sweatshirt who also had a sword—someone that Lance definitely knew.
“Keith! KEITH!” Lance yelled, his voice wavering with fright.
Keith’s back slammed against the other side of the door. “Lance? What are you doing in there!” He yelled back.
“Keith, watch out!” Lance shrieked as the metal man swung his sword at Keith’s head who narrowly managed to block the attack. “Keith! You need to get me out of here or I'm going to be thrown off the balcony!” Lance yelled as the jerking got stronger and he felt his hands slipping off of the wood door and metal handle. He landed on the floor with a pained grunt as he finally lost his grip.
“KEITH I’M BEING THROWN OF THE BALCONY!” Lance screamed at the top of his lungs as he was yanked towards the French doors.
Suddenly the door was ripped open as Keith kicked the suit of armor through it. Lance rolled out of the way as the armor slammed into the rocking chair and collided with the porcelain doll. There was a loud, head rattling crash as the metal armor fell apart and the porcelain doll shattered. Both possessed objects stopped moving and the fabric wrapped around Lance’s leg went slack. Keith held out his hand for Lance to grab, helping pull him up and onto him feet. Together they stumbled back into the main hallway and slumped against the wall, shoulder-to-shoulder and panting.
Keith suddenly whipped around to glare at Lance, “what were you doing in there!” He half shouted.
“What was I doing? What were you doing! What was that thing?” Lance whole body was still shaking and he felt like he might vomit.
“It was trying to kill me!” Keith retorted.
“Is it this house? Because that's what's trying to kill me!” Lance snapped back at him.
For a long moment they stared at each other, realization dawning in their eyes.
“Oh shit.” Keith whispered.
“Holy fuck.” Lance whispered back. “You were right. This place is haunted and it's trying to fucking murder us.”
“We need to get to the others.” Keith said his eyes full of fear.
Lance nodded frantically and together they scrambled to their feet then took off running down the hall.
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It had only been a few minutes since Pidge and Hunk had separated themselves from the rest of the group. So far they had only explored a large dining room. The wooden table was broken in half right in the middle. The chairs that had once surrounded it were missing legs and had been scattered around the room. The ancient China cabinet looked like it had been smashed with a sledge hammer. Pidge and Hunk had to watch their step so they wouldn't end up stepping on large shards of glass.
“Hey, is this the kitchen?” Hunk asked as he carefully pushed the door, that was only half on its hinges, open.
Pidge pokes their head around Hunk, “it sure looks like it. Come on!”
Pidge grabbed him by the arm and tugged him further into the kitchen. It was a long rectangular room. Most of the counters had caved in and the oven was rusted but the wall of shelving that help most of the dishes was still intact. Hunk wandered over to the shelves.
“This is pretty cool,” he said, gently picking up an ancient plate. “It's like something you'd see at a museum.”
“A really creepy museum.” Pidge said as they flipped open cupboards at random.
Hunk grinned, “yeah. A really, really, creepy museum.” He placed the plate back on the stack and turned to pick up a cup but before he could there was a crash as one of the plates shattered on the floor.
Pidge and Hunk both jumped at the same time.
“Hunk! Be more careful. You almost gave me a heart attack.” Pidge grumbled.
“It wasn't me, I swear!” Hunk began. “I wasn't anywhere near that plate, look!” He pointed a few feet to the side of himself to where the shards of the plate lay on the ground.
Pidge came closer to inspect the broken plate. “So if you didn't do it, then what did?” They asked with a delighted glint in their eye.
“Uhhhhh, the wind?” Hunk tired.
“Nope! Ghosts!” Pidge exclaimed excitedly.
“O-oh,” Hunk mumbled, looking like he was considering using Pidge as a human shield. “You think that it might be a nice ghost?”
Just as Pidge was opening their mouth to respond, another plate fell. And then another. And another. And another. Until there was a cascade of falling dish wear.
Hunk grabbed Pidge and backed them away from the shattering ceramic.
“Should be run?” Hunk said still pulling Pidge back with him.
“Ye—”
A cup went whizzing past Pidge’s ear, lightly brushing the skin as it soar past them. Now the dish wear wasn't just falling—it was flying at them like bullets. Hunk bodily lifted Pidge off the ground and over his shoulder before turning and racing out of the room. He kept running until he felt like there was a good distance between them and the flying dishes. They were now in an unfamiliar room.
He set Pidge back in their feet.
“You know I hate it when you pick me up like that without warning but thank you for getting us out of there.” Pudge said shakily but managed to smile up at Hunk.
“You’re welcome, and sorry, I panicked. That was really scary.”
“It sure was. Too bad I didn't get it on film. That would have gotten so many views on YouTube.” Pidge said, “Where are we anyway?”
Hunk slowly spun in a circle, taking in the whole room. “You know? I'm not sure. It kind of looks like a drawing room off of those period romance movies that Lance likes to watch.”
“I think you’re right.” Pidge agreed.
It was a medium sized room with a large fireplace on one wall. Over the fireplace was a cracked mirror that was covered with a thick film of dust. There were leather upholstered armchairs scattered around the room. The dark curtains that had once adored the tall windows were now ripped and hung limply. One of the windows was missing all of its glass and ivy had grown up through it and covered most of one wall.
Pidge threw themselves down onto one of the still upright loveseats. They patted the spot next to them, motioning for Hunk to come join them. When Hunk sat down, the chair creaked loudly under their combined weight.
“I thought we could use a break after that,” said Pidge as they pushed their glasses up to rub a hand over their eyes.
Hunk watched as they laid their head back and closed their eyes. “Should we try and find the others?” He asked.
“Probably. I mean, the kitchen did just try to straight up murder us” Pidge muttered.
There was a loud bang that came from above their head.
Hunk jumped up, “was that from the second floor? Do you think Lance and Keith are okay?”
“Um, Hunk? I think we have our own problem to worry about,” Pidge said slowly.
“What are you…” Hunk trailed off because the new problem was suddenly very, very apparent.
Everything in the room was floating—including them.
“Oh crap,” Hunk whispered.
“You said it, buddy.” Pidge agreed as they floated past him.
They were royally screwed.