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"Look, Hunk, we are in this together! You can't leave us hanging!"
Friendship often comes with a price, that price was Hunk's sanity. Well, not sanity, but more like anxiety. Hunk often wanted his friends to be safe with goes against his need to be safe when they decided to start a paranormal investigation club. He was little apprehensive about it. For one, it's ghosts, people who may or may not have a good death and are walking around in pain. Two, possibly demons or bad ghosts. Three, he really didn't want his friends to get hurt.
Despite his fears, Hunk was totally interested in the paranormal. There were new science and theories to discover and test (stone tape and all), but most of all there was new technology to create.
It was the actual testing and going to abandoned and haunted places that really made his spine go icy cold and make his teeth clatter.
"We'll be safe, Hunk. We're only ten miles away from Lance's house," Pidge looked up from the microfilm she was viewing, "No one has been there for decades. It was a right of passage to stay a night there when you turn thirteen. No one died."
"But they have!" Hunk interjected.
"Fine," Pidge rolled her eyes, "The last tenants died."
"Look we all agreed the Galaxy Manor is a stupid name for our town's very own haunted house. No one bought the house cause of the ghosts. In fact, everyone who stayed there pretty much ends up crying when they get home because it's so freaky. So there are ghosts there," Lance scoffed as he repeatedly clicking a retractable ballpoint pen to look busy, "
"And we all moved here after we were thirteen so we never got the experience until now," Pidge grinned as she looked up at the obituary seeing the face of a possible specter she will see tonight.
"But we all read the research right?" Hunk stared down at the electromagnetic field detector he was tinkering with since they arrived at the library, "We could do this next week."
"Hunk, this is the perfect time to investigate. Besides you even made snacks for the night over. We have everything packed in my car," Lance folded his arms to express his stubborn attitude that tonight's plans will not be delayed! Lance's malibu has its trunk filled to the brim with their equipment and the goodies Hunk made for the three. There are motion detectors, cameras with infrared spectrum, electronic voice phenomena recorders and sleeping bags.
"I know. I know. I feel like we're going to intrude on them."
"Hunk, they're ghosts. Possibly demons. They're messing with the living. We need to fight back. Reclaim that house for the living," Lance gave a halfhearted rallying speech.
"Wow, I feel my morale rising," Pidge deadpanned.
"Yeah. Yeah," Lance waved his hand at Pidge.
Hunk looked down at the machine.
"Anyway, one more hour until" Lance paused for dramatic effect one second too long, "the Hunt!"
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Every day, they woke up in the same bed. It was their bed.
They always held each other’s hand as they woke up. It was just the way it was done for them.
The end was quick for both of them. Keith remembered how distraught he was as his beloved lost the light in his eyes from a cough that never left. His hair long and face unshaven as he was bedridden for months on end. They had to pry Keith’s hand away eventually.
It wasn’t long after that the fire extinguished from Keith in the very same bed. It was a sign of eternal love he heard the mourners whisper as they grieved for what could have been. When you found your partner, you can’t imagine life after they’re gone.
They were buried side by side.
And they returned to their home side by side.
Their afterlife was enjoyable for the most part. They spent it waking up in their bed holding each other’s hand, reorganizing their house every so often, chase away trespassers and interlopers, and generally mundane things.
The most exciting part of their unlives was their annual party when the veil was thinnest and they would interact with the material world as if their natural life never wilted and faded away. It was a reminder of the happier times where they could laugh and feel the warmth from their bodies instead of the memory of it. Where sweets were truly sweet and the shroud of passing was gone. It was a gathering of the departed who come together for one night to enjoying things that were once was.
It was always perfect despite the troubles they often had to deal with setting it all up.
BANG!
The door flew open.
"HEY GHOSTS! COME ON OUT!"
Keith jolted awake and immediately wanted to scream with the curses on his lips.
Shiro blinked and sat up, still hazy from his rest.
"Lance, stop antagonizing the ghosts," a feminine voice chastised the screamer, Lance, "We can do that later."
Their voices echoed throughout their home and all Keith wanted to do was cry.
Why do people keep on doing this? Why couldn't they leave them alone? Today was their party of all things. Shiro worked hard on it, pulled enough energy to conjure things for their one night of revelry. It was the one night the living should know not to disturb them.
"Keith... was that?" Shiro yawned awake as he snaked his only hand around Keith's boney one.
"Yeah, kids looking for a scare," Keith shook his head. His black hair was still in the state they found his body in, overgrown and in need of a good washing.
He lost a lot of weight after Shiro died and he still had dark circles under his eyes. In low light, Keith could even make it look like he had no eyes, just voids. Shiro's prosthetic didn't come with him when he passed. He still had long hair and still looked sickly, but looks didn't matter. They may look like ghoulish most of the time as no sun will ever touch their complexion, but they still the same old people they were before. They both saw the same beauty in each other that drew them to each other when they first met.
In sickness and in health... and for eternity.
And also annoying kids who think just because two dead people live in a house that they can bash open the front door and pester them.
Shiro groaned as he flopped back onto his pillow, "And today is...."
"I KNOW PIDGE! I WAS WARNING THEM THAT THEIR NATURAL ENEMY IS COMING! YOU WITH ME, HUNK!?" Obviously belonging to Lance.
"Yep," Keith pursed his lips and pressed his hands to his face.
"We have to get them out," Shiro stared at the ceiling.
"I'm really sorry ghosts! I hope we don't disturb your rest!" A third voice, probably Hunk's, finally echoed.
"You did," cringed Shiro.
"Why can't they let us rest in peace?" Keith groaned, making sure the teenagers down the stairs can here him.
"WHAT WAS THAT MOANING!? PIDGE! HUNK! DID YOU HEAR THAT! THAT IS SOME CLASS A STUFF!"
Shiro chuckled at the shriek of Lance.
"We need to get out bed. The fast we chased them out, the faster we can set up," Keith rubbed his eyes, a habit formed when he was alive.
"I take it you'll focus on Lance?" Shiro sat up again and swung his leg over the bed's edge, leaving his impression behind.
"He's the loudest and the one that is giving me a headache," Keith sighed as he heard the banging of objects in their grand ballroom.
Usually, most kids start wetting themselves if Keith or Shiro float down the grand staircase in their wraith-like glory. A little flickering of the lights, hands stretched out as if they were coming to get them and away the kids go off screaming. Then word got around and now people are really invading their privacy. Recording stuff. Leaving garbage behind.
Of course, they were harder to scare because they were older so the typical tricks were put back.
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"I hope they're not angry with us," Hunk sighed as he put together the monitoring equipment. Their little base was in a large room with a grand staircase made of cherrywood that split off into two side staircases. It would be very pretty if it wasn't for the cobwebs and obvious age.
"I guess the ghost can't afford housecleaning,” Lance shrugged at the dust and drop cloths covering the furniture on the sides of the room.
“Still fancy,” Pidge adjusted her glasses as she looked at the inlaid marble floors in an unusual pattern that depicted a floral motif.
Even with years of abandonment, the ghosts’ manse had a sense of regal charm to it. The walls had faded silver wallpaper that had gold gilded mirrors that paneled the room. It added an opulence and grander than life atmosphere.
“The perfect place for ghosts!” Lance raced up the first flight of stairs and stared at the cracked and yellowed painting of the mansion’s previous owners whose features have faded to indistinguishable shapes of colors.
Keith and Shiro observed the teenagers after two out of three ran about while the more sensible one stayed in his spot setting up strange electronics in between looking at their phonograph as if it was more interesting than what his friends were doing.
“Wires. Everywhere,” Shiro sighed looking at how the smaller of the trio was running around dragging a wire with her and some type of equipment.
“You go deal with her,” Keith rolled his eyes as he saw the one named Lance enter a hallway.
“Keith-“ Shiro stopped when he saw Keith already phased out of the room.
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Lance whistled as he walked down the hallway, lots of specimen shadow boxes, pictures of old-time photographs, and other creepy stuff. One of the things he spots is some type of thing that he is certainly, most definitely, for sure is made of hair. It looked like a wreath surrounded by two portraits of obviously dead people.
People back in the day were kinda creepy.
Then again this place was like an anachronism salad of a house. Indoor plumbing, electric lighting, and central AC (Lance did make sure that if he was staying in one haunted spot overnight, he would have the comforts of modern technology), but everything else was a mishmash of just plain old.
Like he was on a set of some horror movie.
Well, Pidge did say there were several attempts to renovate the house so maybe that’s why it had all the technology. The workers got scared off by ghosts after they got the job done. It would be an interesting way to skip out on paying the bill. Just have your ghosts moan and then no invoice.
Lance made it to the end of a long hallway. This was his destination, he had to be perfect for the camera and if Pidge’s search for the blueprint of the mansion was correct, this was a bathroom.
Lance swung the door open with a dramatic flair and turned on the light-
There was someone staring into the large mirror. Pale. Fading in and out as the bulbs in the bathroom flicker. The person had stringy black hair and slouching as if they were dangling from an invisible thread.
Lance opened his mouth to shout but lost his voice as bright red fluid started to drip slowly then pour down from the ceiling. It started to paint anything it came into contact with, including the now twitching figure.
Slowly, the figure’s head unnaturally turned towards him. Its eyes were nothing but black voids. There was no emotion on that face, just blank as a doll’s.
Lance screamed as the door in front of him slammed shut and locked itself. He collapsed on the ground.
“KEITH! We're weren't going to go 'full horror'!” Shiro glared at the younger man with his arm folded.
“What? We’re suppose to scare them,” Keith sighed as the illusion he created faded.
“That was too much, they’re kids,” Shiro tilted his head like a puppy, “You can’t make scare them to the point that they need therapy.”
Keith floated towards Shiro, “They’re going to ruin our party.”
“I know, but we have time besides I rather not have to clean up a mess like less time,” Shiro placed his arm on his beloved’s shoulder and Keith gave a relenting smile back.
Last time, they had a boy throw up because Keith used someone’s discarded doll as a trigger object and made it chase the boy their manor after being called a demon one too many times. It was hilarious in a dark, twisted way, but trying to gather enough energy to physically clean something made the laugh not worth the trouble.
“I’m going find the girl, Pidge. Wait here, okay?” Shiro waved as he phased to the other side of the house seeing Keith give a small nod.
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“Can you tell me your name?” Pidge waited a few seconds before pausing and replaying the recorder. Nothing but static.
This whole thing has been a bust and it was two hours in. It was eight at night and she still hasn't gotten anything. In fact, she’s now doubting there are ghosts here. People imaginations make things well and people do wish there is an afterlife.
Pidge sighed and leaned against the wall, facing a landscape painting with a small figure in the background, one of those pastoral scenes with fields of wheat and trees celebrating the family’s humble beginnings. She read the research, the previous occupants weren’t humble farmers nor where their parents or grandparents. They were just two guys with lots of money that spent it on this place. One was even distant royalty.
“Are there any ghosts here?” Pidge knew she wasn’t going to get a response but she recorded it anyway.
As she pressed play after she rewinded, the hair stood back on her neck.
“Yes.” It wasn’t fully clear, but it was there and it was in a voice that she never heard before.
She looked down at her recorder. She has an EVP. It was a ghost on tape. Pidge raised her eyes back up, reading to ask another question when she noticed something.
The figure in the painting was closer.
Maybe it was always like that.
Pidge shrugged it off and turned to her recorder again, “What’s your name?”
Pause, rewind, play.
“Run. Run. Run. Run. Run.”
As the voice repeated the word, Pidge’s eyebrow shot up. She glanced around the hallway and as she looked at the painting, the figure was closer. She could see the dark long hair and lack of arm.
Okay, this was getting weird.
“W-why should I run?” Pidge spoke into the recorder again.
Pause, rewind, play.
“GET OUT!”
Pidge shrieked as the voice echoed the hallway. Her eyes snapped forward as she saw a flickering man with black and white hair, the figure in the painting, pressed his arm out of the painting. She clutched her recorder and ran before Shiro could fully pull himself out of the painting.
“….I should have scaled that back,” Shiro sighed to no one but himself. He could have blamed Keith’s passionate desire to chase off the trespassers, but really it’s been a while since he had to scare people off. Usually, Keith was the one to give them a haunted hand to usher them out. Shiro only had himself to blame for going a little bit overboard with the phenomenon.
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"Pidge!" Lance scrambled into her.
"Lance! I saw a painting with a guy!" Pidge stuttered out, trying to both catch her breath and excitedly retell her adventure.
"Painting? There are-" Lance was waving his arms to showcase the many paintings this mansion had. There are even paintings with a scene of painting with them.
"Lance! A ghost came out of it." Pidge squawked in disbelief.
"Oh. Yeah, I saw a ghost in the bathroom," Lance avoided that it was creepy and there was something that was like blood coming from the ceiling. Plus the door closed on him and locking him out.
Pidge's shoulders slacken, "I got stuff on... Oh."
As Pidge looked at her recorder, the power was off as if someone thing drained the battery. Of course, it had to be the ghost. Who else sucks off all the energy out of batteries in electronics.
"Oh... I got some new batteries," Lance dug out a new pack of batteries from his pocket. He read up on this, something about electrical energy and such powering spirits.
When they switched the batteries, the recorder still didn't turn on.
"That was a new pack," Pidge made a dull unsurprised observation, "They don't want us here. It kept telling me to go."
"Well, of course, they're threatened by our awesome," Lance smirked at Pidge in an attempt to rally her morale.
Keith rolled his eyes as he hovered towards Shiro, "He's delusion."
"And we're running out of time," Shiro looked Keith.
"Well they're together, let's team up?" Keith gave a lopsided smile to his beloved.
Shiro matched Keith's, it's been a while since they scared together. Sometimes having two ghosts at once was the best way to have people leave their home.
"Remember they're kids," Shiro playfully chastised Keith.
"Who obviously watch too much horror stuff," Keith sniped back and planted a kiss on Shiro's hollowed cheeks, "They can handle it."
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Hunk unrolled his sleeping bag and slipped in. All the monitors were going and nothing exciting going on. No lights, no orbs, no sounds. The few motion detectors they set up haven't been triggered.
Guess it was just an old house with a sad past. If there are ghosts here, maybe they just wanted to be left alone. Of course, Pidge and Lance could go yell up a storm as they were now shouting about demons while nothing is appearing in the rooms they're trapped.
The snacks he had were still there, some sandwiches and drinks. He ate a bit of his own since he was getting peckish watching nothing but dust fall in darkened rooms. He could keep going on how absolutely nothing moved, no sound or anything out of the ordinary happened. It was a bit of a letdown.
Hunk yawned, maybe a nap will be okay. It is going to be a long night.
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"They touched my equipment! YOU DEMONS TOUCHED MY EQUIPMENT!" Pidge fumed as Lance tried another set of batteries.
"I am very angry for you!" Lance hissed in validation as he looked at all twelve dead batteries in their hands, "You had EVPs! Voices on tape and now they're gone! Gone. Riches. Fame. Gone."
"Argh. I hate these ghosts," Pidge rubbed her hands through her hair.
An ice cold breeze blew between them, making their skin tingle with goosebumps. Their rage subsided as the sensation of their center of gravity was off.
"P-Pidge," Lance kept his voice soft as he saw a light flickering next to them.
Pidge turned and saw the face twisted with sorrow and anger close to them. It was the figure in the picture. It followed her and now it was flickering in front of them as some spectral mist filled the hallway.
The ghost's head was lopsided, hair covering its ominous eyes. Its mouth was open moaning an accursed sound that Pidge could feel in the pit of her stomach. One arm reached up to grab her.
"Pidge!" Lance yank her away and pulled down the shrouded hallway.
The two teenager couldn't see where they were going as the hallway felt endless with no doors in sight, but the ghost was floating along with tendrils of gauzy fabric aged with grime floated behind it.
When they came to the end, there was only a blank wall. They clung to each other as their pulses rushed and they sucked in deep breathes of the musty air.
"Okay, we need to get out of here," Pidge dung her hands into Lance's jacket.
"Y-Yeah. Totally. We believe in you guys now. Sorry for disturbing you!" Lance called out as the ghost disappeared.
They both released their hands off each other. Lance bent over to breath while Pidge pressed her back against the wall and closed her eyes. Both of them grabbing onto whatever bravery and nerve they had. They had to get their resolve back to document this crazy stuff.
Pidge screamed and Lance leaped away, pulling her away. He added his must louder scream to the cacophony of sounds as they stared at the wall.
It was if the walls were amorphous, hands pressed out from it, reaching from them. The pattern on the wallpaper morphed around the shape, distorting it, as the fingers slowly bend towards them.
"Oh no. Oh no," Lance repeated.
Then a face pressed out, mouthing a silent shriek.
They ran hard and out of the mansion, screaming from terror.
Keith and Shiro smirked at each other, planting a kiss on their lips as the two left. They made sure to lock the grand french doors of the front of their mansion after them.
"We make a good team," Shiro laughed.
Keith grinned, "And we didn't go 'full horror'."
It was almost time for the party.
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It was a good nap. No ghosts or nightmares. He had a really good spot underneath a buffet table covered with a drop cloth. It was like a little camping tent where he was safe and warm from any scary things and out of the way.
Hunk lifted up the cloth and his eyes went wide.
Ghosts.
Not like thirteen ghosts, but a lot of ghosts. Like fifty of them. Pale and floating, chatting to each other with smiles despite their ghastly state of death.
The ballroom he was in changed as unearthly lights floated around the ceiling as if they candles from a whimsical story about magic. Maybe it was like that. There were plates of sweets and rich foods on tables and as he examined the cloth that was dropped over his makeshift shelter, it was a fine linen embroidered with silver and gold. In the corner, a quartet of instruments floated and played without any musician in sight.
The atmosphere was happy and full of celebration, and Hunk felt he was intruding on something he was never meant to see. He was an unwitting party crasher, woefully underdress to what seemed to be a ghostly gala, a spectral soiree.
The cobwebs seemed charming as he heard the laughter from the guests. He was stuck in his spot, but it was sweet all the same that even the deceased can enjoy themselves.
The music stopped suddenly and the guests (including Hunk) looked up the grand staircase. Before the portrait of the hosts were the hosts. Hunk smiled as they looked at each other as if they were still in love. Their ragged appearances didn't hinder what they truly saw each other even with the smaller ghost's eyes was nothing but black and the others were sunken.
Hunk shimmed out underneath. Leave and let the ghosts have their fun on this holiday.
He paused as the clock struck midnight and gasped at the new sight.
At the twelfth chime, the pale, senescent, and bedraggled ghosts changed.
Hunk watched at the hosts' complexion changed from their pallor white to a light tan and peach. The taller one's hair changed from long to short with an undercut, his face free from facial hair, and the missing arm reappeared from the ether in a shiny silver form. His eyes were a soft, hale grey and locked on his love, holding his hand.
The shorter of the hosts' hair turned thick and lustrous and his eyes were a bright indigo as his cheeks flooded with a soft blush from the way his beloved was enchanted by him. His gaunt look turned more sleek and slender.
Their clothes changed. The tallest wore a black suit with black thread decorating the fabric with small flowers. A lavender tie and a waistcoat of silver made him look like him as was painted in the portrait behind him.
The smaller one looked regaled, like a prince. A thin circlet of gold with studded garnets adorned his hair. The red matching the suit coat he wore with gold accents along the edge. A cape trailed behind him that was lined with a deep mahogany fur.
The hosts looked like royalty as they walked down the staircase to the guests below. Now all fresh-faced and wearing bright colors that showed their jubilation for the celebration.
Hunk edged towards the door leading to the foyer. It was woefully locked. It was then he felt that he had been seen and as he turned around. The host in black was looking at him as if he was remembering that Hunk was there too.
Hunk pointed at the door and he heard the click that it was unlocked. He quietly opened it and slipped out, but not before waving at the friendly ghost host and whispered quietly, "Happy Halloween".
The hosts kissed and smiled at each other.
He shut the door quietly with a sincere smile on his face, hearing it locked behind. Hunk will get all the equipment and his sleeping bag tomorrow, for now, he was going to let the ghosts to enjoy their holiday.
Besides he needed to find Lance and Pidge.
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