Chapter Text
Fan held the flashlight out with a shaking arm. Glancing at the camera perched on Lightbulb's shoulder, he gestured for her to follow. Fan crept forward and purposefully pressed his foot on a loose floorboard. A little atmosphere to work with. The old house gave an echoing moan.
"Welcome back to Fan's Fantastic Phantoms," Fan whispered to the camera, "We got an anonymous tip-" Paintbrush coughed and Fan shot them a glare. "We got an anonymous tip that there was a presence in this manor." Lightbulb panned the camera over to a spider. "The rumor is that a girl killed herself in these hallways to always be with her love. Sounds cheesy, eh?" Lightbulb zoomed in and out on the spider. "Somewhere, the apple of her eye is buried here." Lightbulb snickered and added cool effects to the spider. A piece of the camera fell off and landed on the spider. Fan needed to stop buying equipment from the pawn shop.
Fan monologued to the camera as the group headed into the belly of the house. Everything was standard, cobwebby and rundown.
Shrieking laughter bounced off the walls.
Fan looked back at his crewmates, who seemed just as confused as him. Noticing the camera, Fan straightened up with an excited expression. "So the rumors were true!" He tried to hide the shaking in his voice, but he was so damn ecstatic! They hadn't found an actual haunting for months at that point. "Could this truly be the ghost in that story? Only one way to find out-!" Fan kicked open the nearest door triumphantly and was immediately bathed in a white light. Falling on his back, he reached out. "Oh, god! Is it my time already? On camera, too! I wish I lived long enough to see this blow up on the internet, but my legacy will live on long after my fall!" He dropped his hands on the floor and closed his eyes. Paintbrush kicked him. "Get up. God isn't coming for you now or ever, you know that." They gestured to the room. Fan opened one eye. "You're right, I would probably be heading down rather than up. That's what I get for playing with ghosts, huh?" Paintbrush kicked him again. "All you saw was a broken TV, alright? No idea how it's still on, though."
The soft white light emanating from the TV box cut off with a bang. Fan got to his feet and stared at the scratched wood of the door. He couldn't chicken out at some self-closing doors. His fans needed him. "Respect my privacy, god! This isn't your house so don't go around opening doors." The voice was as shrill as the laughter. Fan blinked. Lightbulb suddenly tumbled to the floor with a gasp, dropping the camera as it burst into shards of plastic and duct tape. "And that's for breaking and entering, idiots." Paintbrush rushed forward and grabbed Lightbulb before she could shatter on the ground.
"Shit- Fan, we need to leave, now! Whatever's here just tried to kill Lightbulb!" Paintbrush shouted over the wind that rose in the corridor, slipping one of Lightbulb's shaking arms over their shoulders. Fan hesitated, then yelled back, "But we finally found one! And Lightbulb is fine, right?" Said Lightbulb looked up and gave him a tearful thumbs down. Paintbrush gawked at him. "Are you saying the show is more important than our lives? Fuck, Fan, I'm leaving without you then!" Fan's paper rustled hard in the wind as he watched his friends escape. Once they were out of sight, the breeze grew to its strongest and threw Fan into the air, through the house, and out the front door.
Paintbrush was helping Lightbulb into the truck outside. Fan stood up, rushed to the car door and grasped the handle just as it locked with a click. "Walk." Paintbrush started driving. Without Fan in the back. They really meant it, then. Well, who needed them? Fan would be just fine on his own!
-
Two hours later and Paintbrush still hadn't returned. Maybe they would come back if Fan gave them another ten minutes?
"Who are you?"
A cold hand grabbed Fan's arm. The ghost had come back to finish him off. Turning around, Fan saw something white floating in front of him. The form morphed into an object as his eyes refocused in the darkness. A marshmallow, bags under her eyes and a pink blanket over her shoulders. "It's, like, four in the morning. Can you please leave us alone?" Us? Fan lit up. "So you acknowledge that a ghost lives here? Or is there someone else on the property? Also, um, do you have a car, perchance?" The marshmallow's eyes went wide before she snapped, "One, no ghost, no anyone, just me. Two, no car. I walk like a normal person. Three, perchance? Seriously? Who says that?"
Marshmallow stopped. She slid her hand off Fan's arm. "I need to go. There's a payphone down the block, call for a ride. And don't bring anyone here again, just leave... me alone. All three of you." Fan considered his options. This girl looked like she could break him like a twig, but she may be the only one who held the answers to the haunting.
"Wait-" Fan reached for her arms and dug his fingers in a bit too hard, cringing when he remembered how sweaty his palms were. "I have so much I need to ask you!" Marshmallow ripped her arms away. "Do not. Touch me." Fan held up his hands in surrender. "My fault, sorry. But what about the rumors-"
A fist hit one of Fan's guards, knocking him to the ground and folding him in on himself. Footsteps pounded away in the distance. He deserved that. Grabbing on to some random girl and interrogating her is a pretty shitty move. But now, Fan couldn't move at all. Lack of sleep and general poor health catching up to him, Fan passed out on the lawn.