Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I think I got poisoned.

Those were Shane Dawson’s last words. The only thing that had come out of his mouth after that was blood.

Shane had failed. He had been stupid enough to eat food prepared by the house that evil built. And thanks to that lapse of judgement (and no thanks to his friends) he was dead.

He had vaguely remembered sounds. His friends, scattering around, trying to save him. One small moment of relief when an antidote had been poured into his mouth. And then…

In an instant, his consciousness rushed back into the present. He was lying on the ground. Something soft cushioned his head. Something cold, yet somehow not liquid pooled from his lips. And his eyes slowly opened once again. All he saw above him was a bright light, a wooden ceiling, and that was practically it. And that’s when he realized-

He was in the dining room, or at least, he thought he was. He could see lights, the same lights above the dining table in Joey’s house. So, yeah, he was probably in the same room. Which meant he was still in the stupid house. He sat up, slowly, and instinctively pressed his hands up to where he had felt the wet thing pool from his face. He expected to be greeted with blood, but he realized that, pouring out of his mouth in a slow trickle, was some gross dark red sort of smoke. But it didn’t hurt. He hadn’t even realized it was there.

Weird.

Shane initially felt cold, sudden apprehension when he it hit him again that he was still in the house, the house which he and his society had been trying to ward off for as long as he could remember. But after a minute, he realized that it felt different. It felt warm, and pleasing. Like a real home. He took a moment to look around, trying to feel any sort of evil, but… there was none. It was just a normal house. As normal as could be for the dead. He he batted a bit of the smoke away from his mouth.

And then a very sudden thought, almost like his own voice speaking aloud in his brain, sounded.

You have been poisoned. Sorry. I couldn’t have you meddling. In fifteen minutes, you’ll be dead, your lungs filled with blood. However, you know I love games. There is an antidote hidden on the first floor of the house. If your friends are wise enough, they’ll be able to solve the clues and save you.

He had read that much of the telegram before the effects had taken hold. The words had rushed back into his head. And when he heard them again, bitterness rose in his throat. Of course his friends should have saved him, but he was mostly mad at himself. He had been sent to the house on a mission, and then gotten poisoned like a chump. And now, nearly all of his friends, perhaps all, were going to die. Shane sighed, then straightened up. Almost immediately, his felt his hand brush against something that felt like paper. He removed his hand, and looked to his right. A crinkled-up note lay right next to him. He grabbed it, unfolded it, and found a very rushed scribble of words, which read;

To the Renegade, I’m really sorry to tell you, but you are the first casualty of the night. I wish things could have been different. On the sort of bright side though, welcome to the Afterlife! It’s nice to have you here. Wait, no, that sounds bad, I mean, it’s not nice that you died obviously, but it’s nice to have some company! My name is Nephthys, but you can’t tell anyone that! It’s a secret. I wrote this to explain to you everything that’s going on here. First off, you were poisoned, so that’s why there’s smoke coming out of your throat. It’ll be fine! It won’t hurt you, don’t worry! You’re also probably wondering why you’re back in this house. See, it’s not really the house, per se. It’s more of a place I built in the swirling void of the afterlife for you and your friends to live in while you’re, y’know, dead. Which will be a while. Sorry about that! Anyways, I don’t have much time. And there are two more things I need to tell you. There’s a spirit board in the room just across the foyer from where you are now. The spirits this house has taken will project an image every hour or so that will help you. And also every hour or so, a clock will chime. That means someone has joined you. Which is bad! It’s bad! But it’s up to you to help them. Oh geez, you’re starting to wake up. I’m pushing the limits by even writing this to you. Please don’t tell anyone about me. It’s really, REALLY REALLY important.

Enjoy the house! I customized it all myself!

Nephthys

Shane took a moment to process. He was dead, and he was in a house created by some ‘Nephthys’ that he didn’t even know. There was no getting around that, unless he wanted to be trapped in the void, which no. He would be trapped in the house, projection, creation, whatever-it-was forever… but maybe that wouldn’t be all bad. This house was not the one from which he left. This house lacked all the evil and the wickedness. This wasn’t the real world. In this world, he was safe, at least according to the note. This was a house for the dead.

Oh, joy.

He knew he wouldn’t be alone much longer. His friends would have started their quest to find the artifacts by now, guided by the note he had left in his pocket. All he could do was wait. Joey, Eva, Justine, all of them… how long do they have left?

But he looked at the note one more time, and figured he should have a quick look around to see whether the note was telling the truth. Then again, he saw no reason for someone to lie in the land of the dead, so it was likely to be real. Still, who knew?

So he stood up, and walked around the room. The plates were still freshly stocked with food, in case the dead needed to eat for whatever reason, and there was a door near the back, presumably leading to the kitchen. Still on the ground was the bloodsoaked pillow he’d been resting on. He opened a window, and threw it out into a bush. He didn’t need that around, like, at all. In a small corridor near him was a neat little lounge, with white chairs, a few pillows, a table, and a few bookshelves. Nothing that looked like a spirit board, a clock, or anything remotely interesting, though. With nothing else much exciting in the two rooms, he headed out into the foyer. When he tried to go upstairs, however, he nearly jumped back and fell on his head as a jolt of something-or-other forbid him from entering.

“Ow.” He muttered to himself, which brought the unpleasant surprise of a puff of red smoke coming out from his lips. Still, it was more faded. That was good, at least.

He poked the strange wall testily. No change. He had been sorely forbidden from entering upstairs. So he shrugged it off, ignoring the little evil voices in his brain telling him that; Oh hey, that’ll only open up if your friends die ha ha ha and went into a room that was available, a small study with an oak round table, chairs and a desk, plus a couple bookshelves and paintings. But what stood out to him was a small table in the corner, with a large box on top of it. Shane wandered over there, and looked at the top of it. It was engraved with all the letters of the alphabet, plus a ‘yes’ and a ‘no’. A spirit board, clearly. And next to it was a note, written in the same scribbly format as the note which he had tucked carefully in his pocket.

Say this incantation to activate the spirit board. As you are in the afterlife, the spirits do not have to cross over. It can be used at any time. Yay!

“Greetings, spirits. Show me the life that has been lost at this hour,” Shane read aloud. “OH HOLY-”

Immediately, he jumped back as the board burst into life. Golden light poured out of it, but not from the letters or the words. It instead came from the swirly designs that surrounded the board, which created a bright beam of light. As Shane watched, his brain still taking a moment to process that fact that I’mdeadandi’musingaspiritboardwhatthehellisthis the light slowly but surely twisted and formed into a golden, almost holographic image.

It was a bird’s-eyes format of the house, with the rooms he had been able to enter labelled. He supposed he was in the ‘study.’ Also labelled were the ‘foyer’ and the ‘lounge.’ His heart lept to his throat as he saw that in the little area labelled ‘dining room’, there was golden spinning symbol of the Society Against Evil. He looked at it for a moment before the image slowly faded away. But the board wasn’t done yet. This time, six letters momentarily flashed, one after another.

P - O - I - S - O -N

Poison. That made sense. He supposed that was a clue, and each death would project the same sort of thing. He shook off these thoughts for the moment, reminding himself to remain hopeful that no one would join him, and continued to look at the board, but there was nothing else interesting happening. But he knew that there would be. Soon. But for the time being, it remained uninteresting. So he left the study, and went back out into the hallway. He hadn’t taken any interest in anything there, but now he noticed that there was a huge grandfather clock near the wall. The clue had mentioned that a clock would chime whenever someone died, and so far this was the only big-ish clock he’d seen. Weirdly, though, the minute hand was frozen at one, the hour hand at ten. It would have been normal, had the clock been moving, but it wasn’t. It was frozen. Probably just doesn’t work, he thought to himself. The clock also had a cabinet under it. It had an intricate metal swirl pattern on the doors, and two long vertical poles in the middle presumably holding it together. Interested, he grabbed one of the poles and pulled it, expecting it to open. It did not. It held completely. So he grabbed the other one and pulled. Same thing. So he grabbed onto both poles at the same time and yanked as hard as he could. He knelt down and leaned back as he held onto them. He then fell on his back when he let go.

I am committed to opening a random cabinet under a clock.

That left Shane wondering if one needed to sort out already terrible priorities when they were dead.

Seeing as this cabinet was clearly not going to open for him, he started to feel around the handles for a keyhole or something. When he reached the top part of the pole on the left, however, he felt some sort of engraving. He tried pressing it, but that didn’t do anything, either. But finally, he saw a miniscule gap between that section and the rest. So he pushed it to the side, and lo and behold, it finally moved. The engraving lit up for a moment. It was the silhouette of a man holding a rifle. Shane got the feeling that more stuff would happen when other people had arrived, but hopefully that wasn’t happening. So, seeing nothing else he could do, he just headed to the lounge and plopped down onto one of the couches. Then, he waited there, languishing in his own thoughts, messing with the pillows, hoping against all hope that no one would join him here, until the sound of a bell vibrated throughout the house, and Shane was no longer alone.

Chapter Text

“Jesus f-” Shane’s polite sentence was interrupted when he promptly fell on his face. He had been sitting on one of the couches when the bell rang, and he had crashed onto the floor, both out of shock and the fact that that bell had literally shaken the house. Ow. It sounded like the bells of a clocktower, even though he was pretty sure there were a whopping grand total of zero clocktowers here. Rubbing his head, he looked around. Nothing happened, except for the fact that he might've permanently squished his nose. It had shaken the house, and then the world-but-not was normal again. No monsters crashed into the window. No dead animals,insects, or people fell from the sky. And then he remembered that a chime of the clock meant that someone had joined him. He sighed. So much for the hopeless dream that he would be alone here.

Shane took a deep breath, and remembered the note. The spirit board. He had to get to it, and find the body as as well as his clue. So, he got up off the ground (with a throbbing pain in his head), passed though the dining room, and crossed through the hall. However, he noticed a difference in the silver clock. The hands had moved. Now, the minute hand was on two, and the hour hand on nine. Taking a quick delay of his mission, he decided to inspect the clock further. He looked closely at the hands, and ran his thumb across the minute one. Dust cleared, and silver letters flashed before his eyes.

‘Dead.’

Alarmed, he quickly did the same with the hour hand.

‘Alive.’

It was clear now; the grandfather clock had somehow been the source of the chime. The minute hand alluded to how many dead there were. The hour hand alluded to the number of people alive. Whenever it moved, the chime happened.

Freaky, thought Shane.

Getting his head back into his mission (and silently slapping himself for not doing so before), he rushed into the study, and stopped in front of the board. He took a breath, and said again;

“ Greetings, spirits. Show me the life that  has been lost at this hour.”

Just like last time, the engravings lit up with a golden flash of light. The same projection of the house appeared before him, just a bit different this time. Added, in an area outside of the lounge, was a ‘stone pavement path’, and the ‘basement.’ However, there was one square within the basement, labelled with a title that made Shane’s insides squirm.

The Ungodly Machine.

Happy day for him (not), because in that area, there was another golden, spinning symbol. It was one of the artifacts, used to bind the evil of the house. And next to it was a cog key. He had time to properly identify this before it disappeared. And again, letters on the board lit up to reveal his clue.

G-A-S. Shane thought that would be the end, but the board lit up to reveal six more letters.

C-L-O-U-D-S

Clouds. Clouds of gas.

So whoever this was had been gassed to death, in the basement. In something called the ‘Ungodly Machine.’ It seemed like a pretty nasty way to die. Shane took a breath and started to think of what he would have to do in order to get this person to dead-safety.  The clouds of gas were clearly going to be dangerous, so the only logical solution was to grab some bit of fabric and breathe through it. So, using the first thing he could think of, he grabbed his tie, ripping it off clumsily. He tied it over his mouth, and, seeing nothing else he could do, opened the door in the lounge and headed out into the night.

While he was heading out, he realized that he had actually managed to get outside that time, something he had tried and failed to do earlier, which probably meant that the little voices in his brain were right in that pieces of the house would be blocked off until someone new entered the world.  Even with the update, there was a very certain stone part of the outside area that he was walking on. He figured that beyond, on the grass, would still be off limits. This hunch turned out to be right when he accidentally leaned to the side and was greeted with the same sort of jolt as last time. Which hurt.

After a miniscule amount of walking, he found an old metal stairwell, the one leading down into the basement. So, he squared his shoulders, tightened his mask, and headed down into the dark.

When Shane entered, he nearly gagged. As the clue had warned, the area was covered in dark fumes of gas, covering the ground and filling the air. His mask kept him safe, but still, it stung his eyes and he wanted to get out of the damn basement as soon as humanly possible.  Shane quickly found a door with a windowed part coated in thick dust. He opened it experimentally, and was greeted by the source of the gas. There was an intricate machine system, two power boxes, and two metal chambers. One metal chamber was empty and open. The other was filled with the dark clouds, which were seeping out heavily from the bottom. And just through the clouds swirling around the chamber, he could see a hand. A dark glove with a bracelet on, definitely a girl’s, was pressed against the edge of the chamber in a last attempt for freedom. Shane mentally ran through the list of guests, trying to remember who was wearing that sort of clothing. Alas, all he could remember was that Eva, whom he had spent much more time with, was definitely not wearing gloves, which meant she was safe, for the time being. So that left…

GloZell. Sierra. Andrea. Justine. Lele.

His mind lingering on those five names, Shane slowly walked over to the other side, and immediately jumped back a bit. He saw the face.

Smushed against the side of the chamber, clouded and dirty, was Andrea Brooks.

Shane’s heart melted for her. What a horrible way to go out. Taking a deep breath and forcing himself back into action, he approached her chamber again, looking for some way to open it. Seeing how the other chamber looked, he went over to the other side and grabbed the side of the chamber’s door. Then, after a couple tries, he wrenched it open with a loud creak, and her body fell right out. Shane swerved to catch her before she hit the stone ground. Even though this unbalanced him a little, he quickly regained his footing,  swung one of her arms around his shoulder, and, with a huff, pretty much dragged her away from the room with the machine,through the gassy hallway, out of the basement, up the stairs, and into the fresh air. He had noticed an outdoor table and chairs when he was headed into the basement. Thankfully, dead world gave him some mercy and let him pass over there. With a few deep breaths, he gently set her onto one of the chairs. He knelt next to her, seeing that there was still a dark, smoky aura around her, vague clouds came out of her mouth and nose,  and dark patches noticeably covered parts of her face. He figured this was similar to what he had experienced with the smoke. Silence for a few moments. Then she started to cough, in hacking, choking breaths, and Shane rushed back into the house, heading into the dining room and into the back door that led to the kitchen. Thankfully, it was open and accessible, and he found a bronzed metal pitcher of ice-cold water waiting for him on one of the counters. Grabbing a wine glass from the pantry and filling it up, he quickly but carefully rushed back to his new comrade, making sure not to spill any. He steadied her face with one hand, and gently poured some water into her mouth with the other. This seemed to rejuvenate her, thankfully, as she stirred a bit and her cough settled, but with absolutely no warning, her deep brown eyes flew open.

“Come on! You’re almost there!” She yelled aloud, sitting stock-straight in her chair and gripping the sides furiously. Her breaths were short and gasping, and her eyes were alight with fear. Shane jumped back at first, startled by the random outburst, but he slowly approached her, putting a hand on her shoulder. She turned on him, clearly terrified, but them her gaze softened, and gently rested into confusion.

“Shane? I don’t- what- where-” she stuttered, looking around with alarm.

“It’s okay. You’re okay,” He said. “Deep breaths.” She seemed to comply, as she started to control her breathing again, but then, just as it had for Shane, the grave truth seemed to crash down on her.

“You’re dead.”

“Well… so are you.”

“What?”

“Yup.”

He broke this to her, as gently as possible. Andrea took this in for a moment, her eyes flickering with some sort of denial. Shane figured she might also be reliving her last moments, as he had after he woke up. Then, she seemed to give up and sighed despairingly. She cupped her face in her hands, and stayed like this for a minute or two. Shane couldn’t blame her. Being dead was a lot of take in. She let out one more sigh, uncupped her face, and then looked up at him.

“God… where are we?”

‘The afterlife, I guess. The house, but not.”

“What?”

“Yeah. Have some water.” Andrea frowned in confusion, then downed a few swallows of it before exhaling deeply and smiling weakly at him.

“Well… It’s good to see you again, at least.”

Shane gave her a small smile, and offered her a hand. She took it, and stood up.

“Let’s get into the house. Then, if you want, you can tell me what happened.And I’ll fill you in on what happens here. Don’t worry, though.  You’re safe now”

“As safe as I can be, I guess.” She said, smiling faintly at him. And together, the wonderfully dead pair walked into the house. And, behind them, the clouds of gas slid out of the open door and dissipated into the night.

Chapter Text

It had taken  Andrea Brooks a while to accept that she was actually dead.

She had been pounding on the glass, encouraging Justine, praying with all her heart that Eva wouldn’t finish before she did-

And then…

And then black gas rose up around her, she found herself unable to breathe, it choked her, stung her eyes and nose...

and then there was nothing. Nothing until Shane pulled her out of the soul-crushing black void she’d found herself in and she’d woken up in a much emptier, much safer house. Now, with Shane at her side, she was sitting in the voting lounge. He’d been gently telling her about everything that happened since he died, and how things worked around here. He explained that the spirit board here worked the same way- it was just accessible all the time instead of just once an hour. How it revealed the locations of the dead bodies, and how the words flashed to form a sort of clue. He had also recounted that the grandfather clock in the hallway would let them know when someone joined them, and how the two hands indicated the number of people dead or alive. Shane had also vaguely talked about his death. The guy didn’t even seem mad that they’d completely failed him.

Andrea had sat through the explanation, listening intently yet her mind still gently wandering away. Her last words ricocheted around in her head, like a mantra. Her last thoughts had been blind fear. Now she was safe. That last part had taken her a while to accept. Despite what Shane said, at first she hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that any moment the shadows would lurch out at them, that the house would crumble around them and they would die again. But everything seemed calm, more settled. There wasn’t the undertone of a ticking clock leading up to doomsday. Of course, she would be trapped in the 1920’s forever, but hey. At least she was in a much better place now.

“So, what’d I miss?” Shane said, propping up a leg and bringing Andrea’s thoughts back into the present.

“Well, we tried to escape with Joey’s car, but it exploded,” she said, Shane looking completely unsurprised. “So we got a delivery from Sarah the maid, which was a hand, and then…”

Andrea recounted the whole story, from the arm and the introduction of their secret freaky lifeline from across the grave, from finding all of the books (she made sure to annunciate that she had found the last book, thank you very much), to the chess game and looking for the elements, to finding the cog key of the ungodly machine, to the voting process, her name being pulled, picking Justine, and her eventual death. Her mood dipped low at that point. She pulled her dark shawl around herself.

“I don’t know why the group picked me,” she finished bitterly. “I found the last book. I helped. And they were all there when I did it, for god’s sake.”

Shane nodded sympathetically. “Yeah. But hey, you’re safe now. And at least our friends are still okay, at least for a little while. And now we get to live in this giant house forever.” He said, giving her a smile to lighten the mood. No matter how down she had been feeling at the moment, his smile was pretty infectious.  She let out a chuckle, a small one, but still lighthearted nonetheless.

“That’s true,” She said. “But wait,  what’s with the red puffs coming from your mouth, are there like, drugs here that do that?”

“It’s like a cloud of death stuff, so kinda,” He said, snickering at the additional comment. “Where my wound  was. You’ve got one too.” He added, swiping away at one of the faint gray clouds that emmenated off of her body.

“Huh.”

Shane stood up, and stretched.

“Hey, Andrea?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you wanna get something to eat?”

The casual question caught the Fixer off guard, but then she realized he was diverting to a normal topic. After all, this was going to be the new normal from now on, wasn’t it? She shrugged, and relaxed her nerves.

“Nah. Being gassed to death kinds puts you off food for a while, I guess. ”

“Same, though. Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Can you even eat when you’re dead?’

“I mean, you drank water so, why not? Besides, even if I can’t get 2016 food anymore, I will literally die…. Again without it.”

Andrea shrugged, then laughed, and she immediately felt the thick veil of tension swish away from their conversation.

“Wait, so, your note…  you’re a member of the cult thing that’s gonna help the group out of there?”

“First of all, it’s more of an organization, and second, yeah.”

“The Society Against Evil, right? Wait, so what is it exactly?”

“Well, basically, it’s a society against evil.”

“So helpful, Shane.” Andrea said, rolling her eyes at him.

“It’s true, though!”

“Fair enough.”

“We fight against evil forces plaguing the nature of the world. I told them I’d been invited to a party at one of the houses on our watchlist, and they sent me there on a mission to bind it. I failed that mission.”

A pause.

“I’m sorry… SO sorry that we let you die.” Andrea said, guilt flooding back to her in an instant. Shane seemed to consider this for a second, then looked up at her with a gently nonchalant smile.

“S’ok. As long as you got my note, you should be okay, for better or probably for worse. I mean, some of them should be okay.” He said. “Anyway, I’m not that mad about it.  Are you mad at Justine, though?” He asked curiously.

Andrea mentally scanned herself. In retrospect, she should have been. But strangely, she wasn’t. Justine had clearly tried her best, at least, she hoped she did. And she’d gone up against Eva, one of the smartest girls in the group. She probably didn’t stand a chance.

“Not really,” She said. “I mean, she was trying her best. I probably should’ve picked Eva, or Tim, but… I didn’t trust Eva at the time and I didn’t want Tim to feel guilty if I died.”

“Are you and Tim good friends?” He asked lightly.

“Best friends.” Andrea said. She didn’t go any further than that, though. Tim had been her best friend, the first YouTuber she ever really talked to… she was going to miss him. And then it hit her that he might die, too. And she silently prayed that he would be okay. As much as she may have wanted to see Tim again, seeing him here would have meant he died. God, no.

Shane seemed to read this, as he nodded gently and didn’t question her further.

And then there was an eerie silence. Shane looked around at his surroundings, and his eyes seemed to land on something. It was like a light popped into life within his brain.  He looked at Andrea.

“What is it?”

“We need to get to the clock.”

“Why?”

“Just a hunch.” With that, Shane rushed off, leaving Andrea no choice but to follow him or be left clueless forever. And follow she did, standing up and running off after. She had noticed an upstairs entrance, but was quickly pulled away by Shane (no, Andrea, that will electrocute you painfully) and they stopped at the silver clock.

“Oh, hey, this is where I found the book!” She said, pointing at the cabinet.

“Oh, so then do you know how to open this bitch?  Because it’s not working!” Shane said, kicking it.

“Shane, the cabinet gets pulled open. Kicking it is going to make it worse. Soo…” Andrea knelt down and tugged on it, like a normal person would, finding it held fast. She got up and shrugged. “Guess I don’t know how, then.” This was responded to with a loud groan from Shane.

“Wait, what’s with that other part? It’s down to the side and it has some weird symbol on it.” She muttered, squinting at it.

“I dunno. It’s the only part of it I could move. I want you to try and push the section on the top of the left to the side.” Shane said, pointing to it.

“Why, though?”

“I need to know if my theory is right!”

Andrea shrugged, and pushed it to the side as he asked. It seemed to respond to her touch, stopping right next to Shane’s part of the lever. The engraving of a talking woman shone on the handle, next to Shane’s which appeared to be somebody holding a rifle.”

“Yes!” Shane said. “I figured out something! For once! In my life!”

“Dude, you figured out everything here.”

Shane seemed like he was holding something back, but he didn't make any explanation. Andrea looked at him with a raised eyebrow, but didn’t comment.

“Wait, Andrea..” Shane seemed to be eyeing the completely still silver clock (which he had explained to her a little while before) with confusion. “Isn’t it kind of weird that no one else is here yet?”

“Why’s that weird?”

“Because you came, like, just a little while after I did. I’m pretty sure it’s been like an hour.”

Andrea raised her eyebrow, before she realized there was a change in atmosphere. The hands on the clock, which had previously been completely still, had started to shimmer with fragmented glowing light. And the light was gradually getting brighter.

“Uh, Shane?” She said, pointing at the clock. “Is that considered normal?”

Shane looked at it for a moment before his eyes widened and he clamped his hands over her ears.

“COVER YOUR EARS NOW OR I SWEAR YOU’RE PROBABLY GONNA GO DEAF ANDREA.”

Andrea did so, and had just about enough time to wonder whether a bomb was going to explode before the hand turned to a blinding light and moved to the number ‘3’, accompanied with a bell that sounded like thunder.

Chapter Text

“Oh my GOD, Shane, you had to say something?” Andrea snapped, slowly curling up from her crouched position on the floor near the clock.

“Well I’m sorry, I forgot that the thing happens at the exact time you say it’s not happening.” Shane muttered irritably. Andrea rolled her eyes, but let out a single, breathless laugh before remembering the grave truth that came with the toll of the clock.

“So that means…”

“Yeah. Someone’s been initiated into the VIP house for dead people.”

“Whoopee.”

“Whoopee, indeed. Come on, let’s get to the spirit board.” Shane said, walking over to the study, Andrea following close behind. Apparently, the spirit board retained the same real-life location as it did in real life, because it was in the exact same spot as it had been before. Andrea stood just a bit behind Shane as he grabbed something, than passed it to her.

“Wanna do the honors of reading the incantation?”

“Of course, why on earth would I not want to?” Andrea said dryly, reading the incantation aloud.

“ Greetings, spirits. Show me the life that has been lost at this hour.” Almost immediately the whole thing  lit up with bright, golden light. Andrea was mesmerised by the way it gently morphed and twisted into what looked like a bird’s eye view of the house. Different parts of the house were labelled off, like the lounge and the basement, while others were simply blank squares. Immediately what caught her eye, however, was a golden rotating symbol that spun gently near the corner of the map, far away from the house. It was a strange triangular thing, with circular gems on each facet, and intricate designs all around it. Next to it was the image of an open coffin.

“What’s that?” Andrea asked, pointing to the triangle thing as the image slowly faded.

“One of the artifacts that’s going to be used in the ritual to bind the evil.” Shane said quickly. “Now shush, we need to see the message our lovely dead spirit friends have for us.”

Andrea saw what he meant. Like it had for them when she was alive, the board’s letters lit up one by one to reveal a word.

B-U-R-I-E-D

Andrea gasped for a second, then looked right at Shane fearfully.

“Buried… and the coffin next to the artifact…”

“Pretty sure whoever-this-is got buried alive.” Shane responded.

Andrea shook her head. This was just awful.

“Well, we’re gonna need to find them. So, outside we go, I guess.” Shane said with a clearly reluctant sigh.

“In the dark night, in the land of the dead, scouring to find a completely unspecified spot where one of our friends has been buried alive.”

“It’ll be super duper fun.”

“Of course it will.”

Shane and Andrea, (thankfully finding little dinky flashlights on a table near the front door) walked out into the now-open lawn, which was surrounded with beautiful trees, bushes, plants, and lamplights. Over in the distance, Andrea could see a shiny blue pool, but she figured that wouldn’t really be where someone was buried alive. Shane had also pointed out a greenhouse. They’d gone in there briefly, finding some fresh vegetables, fruits, and produce, but nothing that pointed them in the right direction. So she and Shane kept looking, trying to find some indication of something, before Shane finally noticed a clear location.

“Look, over there.” He said, pointing in the distance over to one clear spot. A square in a patch of plain dry dirt, lit up with shining moonlight, was clearly there in the yard beside a large tree and a huge patch of bushes. They rushed over there, before realizing their mistake.

“God dammit, we didn’t bring shovels. Do we even have shovels?” Andrea said, kicking at the dirt in the brighter patch.

“Um, I’ll be right back with something. Shovels, a glass, or maybe, like, a spoon.” Shane said, running off toward the lights of the house.

“How are we going to productively use a spoon to dig up a body?” Andrea yelled after him.

“It might take a while!” Was his faraway response.

So he had just run off,  leaving Andrea alone in the night. Even though she knew she was probably fine, it was still incredibly nerve-wracking. To pass the time, she tore off her gloves, and, swallowing her knowledge that she would ruin her nails, started to scoop/claw away dry dirt from the patch of light. It wasn’t particularly productive, but it helped the time go by, gave her something to focus on, and made her feel like she was being helpful. When Shane had come back what seemed like a million years later with shovels, Andrea had torn away a nice dent of dirt, but hadn’t made any real progress. So she took a shovel, and started to scoop the dirt away along with Shane.

“Do you like to garden?”

“No.”

A few more shovels of dirt.

“Where’d you even find these?”

“In a green wheelbarrow near the back of the house.”

“Cool.”

They worked in almost-silence, before Andrea felt the end of her shovel hit something hard. Pushing away a bit of dirt, she saw a definite wooden surface.

“Oh hell, I hit it.” Andrea said, wiping away a bit of sweat from her brow.

“Better keep going, then.”

They continued on like this for a little while, until the full coffin had been uncovered. Panting, Shane and Andrea both threw their shovels away, and looked at each other.

“Well, here goes nothing…”

“Who do you think is in here?”

“I don’t know. I voted for Eva last round, but she totally proved herself. Maybe Matt, since he voted for Lele. I hadn’t been around long enough to see if anyone got outed by the group.” Andrea said.

Shane nodded and shrugged, then took a breath and knelt down to open up the coffin. Andrea followed his lead, thoughts still floating around in her head.

They would kick out someone who’s useless, right? Someone who hasn’t done any good?

“Andrea, I can hear whimpers. Someone’s crying in there.”

Someone who failed?

“I can’t blame them.”

Oh, god.

The coffin lid was heavier than expected. The crying grew louder.

Someone who failed.

They managed to lift it.

Someone like-

And they pushed open the coffin and Andrea was greeted with the face of the one she’d bet her life on. The one who’d lost.

Justine Ezarik had been buried alive. Her face was swollen and red, her eyes puffy. She was scrunched up in what little room she had. Her gloved hands cupped her face as she sobbed  in fear, her breaths quick, gasping, and anxious. Andrea’s heart broke for her. Even though she’d still been a bit on the fence about how she’d react if she ever saw Justine again, Andrea felt nothing but sympathy for the poor girl seeing her lying in that coffin. No one deserved such a fate. Andrea wouldn’t wish this on anyone, even on the girl who had failed to save her life.

Shane shook her out of her thoughts.

“Come on. We have to get her out of there.”

Andrea, who had had a hand clamped over her mouth in horror, took a deep breath, nodded, and moved over to Justine’s feet. She grabbed both ankles, while Shane slung his arms under hers. Together they started to lift her out of her prison.

And Justine started to scream and sob.

“ NO, no, please! Joey! Don’t let them do this to me!” She screamed, struggling viciously against Shane and Andrea.

“Justine, it’s okay, we’re here to help you..” Andrea said, trying desperately to calm her down. It didn’t work, and she nearly got kicked in the face. She took a deep breath, and along with Shane, managed to lift her out of the coffin and the hole said coffin had been buried in. They rested her body faceup on the ground, where she turned onto her side and curled up into a ball, hugging her knees and sobbing muffled sobs into her tights. Andrea crawled over to her as Shane caught his breath, and gently placed her hands on both of  her shoulders, gently stroking the soft fur material of her mink coat in a reassuring back-and-forth. She was shuddering. And even though she wasn’t sobbing hysterically, crying out for help, or screaming, she was still crying softly, her breaths coming out as shaky gasps.

“Shh… Justine, it’s Andrea. You’re safe now. Don’t worry.” Andrea murmured to her. They spent a while like this. Shane had gone to get some water and a blanket for the girl, so Andrea just stayed by her side, saying soft reassurances and gently hugging her shoulders as Justine quietly sobbed. At one point though, Andrea moved over to where she could see Justine’s face.

Though she wasn’t hugging her knees anymore, her hands still cupped her tearstained face, and her beautiful blonde hair lay a splayed mess on the dirt ground. Andrea, slowly but gently drew her shaking hands away from her face. Her bright blue eyes were puffy and swollen. But gradually, they looked into Andrea’s own and gained both focus and a visage of shock.

“It’s me, Justine. You don’t need to be afraid now. I’m going to help you get up, okay?”

Andrea wasn’t sure, but she thought she heard a soft, shaky ‘okay.’

Andrea  slipped an arm under her shoulder and gently propped her up into a sitting position. She kept one arm around her shoulders, in fear that she might slip over. Justine stared at the ground, still gently shaking. Tears still rolled down her face. But all of a sudden, she let out a choked whisper.

“Andrea?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

And Justine tackled her in a sudden hug, wrapping her arms tightly around Andrea and sobbing into her shoulder. Andrea very nearly fell onto her back, but propped herself up with an arm, then slowly wrapped her arms against the other girl.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t save you… I’m sorry, please..”

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Just breathe, breathe...” Andrea said, gently rubbing circles on her back. She may have imagined it, but she felt Justine nod, and she seemed to calm down. Though she was still shaking a bit, Andrea felt like she was finally starting to breathe again. Andrea knew that Shane would be back soon, and there were things to explain, but for now there was just her and a poor, frightened girl alone in the night. And as Andrea gently rubbed her back, as Justine seemed to genuinely calm while sobbing shakily into her black shawl, Andrea was okay to stay like this for as long as need be.

Chapter Text

Justine had spent her last moments alive frightened and completely alone. The dark space was soul-crushing. She hadn’t had any room to move the slightest bit. The most she could do was wriggle back and forth. In the beginning, she had pounded on the top, screaming hoarsely, crying, begging for the people around her not to do this.

The lid had slammed. She could see the moon as a sliver of light in the cloudy sky. Then it was black. And nothing but noises. Muffled, but deafening noises.

She pounded, but someone stood on the top of the coffin.

She cried, but nobody cared.

She had ran, but he caught her. They dragged her away, lowered her into a box, and buried her in the ground. She looked into Joey’s eyes for the last time. Tears welled in them.

She looked at the faces of her murderers.

If she ever saw them again, she didn’t think she would ever forgive them. Who would?

SLAM.

She could slowly feel the surface above her getting heavier and heavier. Particles of dirt streamed down from above her. She could hear a few things when she was alone in there. She could hear Joey, screaming out to the group that this was sick. She heard Tim, telling Joey to shovel a pile of dirt onto her grave. She vaguely heard the group find the artifact.

“See? It was all worth it, Joey.”

Is that all I’m worth? Some dumb statue?

Do they really care this little?

“I’m not gonna vote for you, it’s not gonna happen! You’re not gonna go in there!”

But it did, Joey. It did happen. I did go in there. You couldn’t stop them. They hate me.

Deep, deep down, Justine knew she had contributed a lot to her own death. She had failed, she had screamed, she had been defensive and angry. And that tore a rift between her and her friends… No. She couldn’t call them her friends anymore. Friends don’t bury friends alive. Once, she had been friends, at least friendly with GloZell and Tim.

GloZell had tried to block out her screams with la-la-la-las and said it was her time to go.

Tim had grabbed her ankles and lowered her into the coffin.

Justine had eventually stopped crying  while they were burying her. She couldn’t sob anymore. Her breath was starting to diminish. The nauseating darkness around her just worsened. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t speak. She could hardly breathe. She was suffocating as a weight pressed down on her chest. And she had started to get lightheaded, then… after the group had left. And eventually, her time ran out. Everything around her faded into darkness.

And then she found herself conscious, in the same place where she had been, where she had died only moments before. The fact that she could easily breathe didn’t make it better. It made it worse. Because she still couldn’t move, she was still trapped, still six feet underground. No one was going to find her. There was no tomb, no flower, no memorium or honor of her existence. She was going to be here, alone, and she would never again see the light of day, a friendly face…

“I think iJustine!”

“Justine!”

“I think we should put Justine in the coffin!”

“Justine! I think it was Justine!”

“I think it’s time for her to go.”

“I will not-”

“Look at how scared she is!”

“Please, whatever you do do not put me in that box…”

“I’m not gonna vote for you, it’s not gonna happen!”

“Justine.”

“NO! Why would you guys do this to me!”

“We need to!”

“You don’t understand!”

“ Don’t let them do this to me! Joey!”

“Guys, no, stop, we can’t do this!”

“We have to!”

“This is sick!”

“I’m sorry, Justine! We’ve got to do this!”

“Don’t pay attention to the screams!”

“La-la-la-la…”

“You’re not gonna help us?”

“No, I’m not gonna help!

“Joey has to shovel at least one pile of dirt!”

“There, happy?”

Scratch that.  

She wasn’t alone. The voices in her head didn’t rest. They didn’t falter. Justine covered her ears, her gloves scraping against the side of her prison. That didn’t help. And Justine had started to cry, to sob, releasing everything that she had felt ever since Shane died. The anger and frustration she felt about being unable to save Andrea’s life. The fury and fire of grief that had channeled her words. The soul crushing realization that the group hated her and wanted her dead. She buried her face in her hands and wished the world would just go away. She wanted to go home. She wanted her life back.

And she heard scraping. She heard voices. She couldn’t make out what they were, who they were, or what they were saying. But they flooded Justine with memories, flashes to her last moments alive. That only made it worse.

Her coffin opened. She couldn’t see. Everything was blurry and distorted with tears.

Strong arms slid under her shoulders and lifted her up. Just like Marvin.

Hands gripped her ankles. Just like Lele and Tim.

And in her mind, this was her death all over again. Marvin, Lele, and Tim and all of them were back, back to shove her in another box, back to scream that she was a traitor, back to snuff out every last drop of life she had. She kicked and struggled, begging and pleading for them to show her mercy. It was much easier this time. Her ankles moved. She tried to kick the demons of her world, right in the face. She heard words, she heard something. But it didn’t matter. She was still going to die again. She felt herself being lifted. And then onto dirt. Solid dirt ground. Maybe they had shown her mercy this time. Maybe they would just leave her to the wolves. It would be a better fate than being plunked in another coffin. But nothing came for her. She was on her back, looking up at the same night sky. She rolled onto her side, hugging her knees, sobbing with both intense relief and still utter terror.

“I’m gonna go get water and some blankets… you stay with her.”

“ Right.”

She felt someone grip her shoulders. She went rigid. But whatever this was just stroked her fur of her coat and soothingly whispered to her. Justine hardly noticed. She  was shaking. It was so cold. So horrible. She buried her face in her hands again and let out choked sobs. She let her entire body release the pain and agony she had built up over her time in the hellhole house. And then all of a sudden, she felt her hands being lifted gently away from her face. And she stared into soft brown eyes. Not the eyes of a demon. The eyes of someone kind. The eyes of someone she had failed.

Andrea…?

“It’s me, Justine. I’m going to help you sit up, okay?”

Justine choked out an ‘okay.’ She wasn’t sure anybody would ever be able to hear it. Someone gently lifted her into a sitting position. And finally Justine could see the world around her. Next to her, arm gently supporting her back, was a slightly shorter girl, with a beautiful bronze-looking hairdo, dark makeup, a barely visible dark gray aura swirling around her, wrapped in a shawl.

“Andrea…?”

She smiled.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

Justine’s emotions reached their peak. This was the girl she had let die.. Yet she was helping her…

Justine’s failure to Andrea was half the reason why she was dead at all.

And so she leaned over and engulfed Andrea in a hug, sobbing her apologies. She couldn’t help it. Andrea gently rubbed circles around her back. Justine sobbed into her shoulder.

“I’m sorry I didn’t save you… I’m sorry, please….”

“Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay… just breathe, breathe..”

And so she did. Justine finally felt the distortion and lightspeed terror of her world slowly come to a halt. Finally she felt in the present. She was wrapped in a hug from a friend.

It was the first time she had felt genuine warmth ever since she’d walked out the front door of the house to go find Caroline’s grave.

A short while later, Justine was simply sitting next to Andrea, gently leaning against her in comfortable silence. She had stopped sobbing, and was now simply focusing on her breathing and looking up at the starry sky. Andrea hadn’t asked her anything, or said much. She just kept one arm resting on her back. It was stabilizing.  Justine appreciated both these things. She wasn’t sure that she could talk, at least not for a while.

“Hey, Justine. Glad to see you sitting up.”

A voice suddenly interrupted her gentle stream of thoughts. It definitely wasn’t Andrea, it was a male’s voice. And if this was where the dead people go, that could only mean…

Justine swivelled her head, seeing Shane sitting next to her. Another person she’d failed to save… but he didn’t seem angry. Nor did Andrea.

Instead, he smiled, passing her a wine glass full of water. She accepted it gratefully, chugging down a few swallows of it (her throat felt seriously parched) before putting it on the ground in front of her.

“It’s nice to see you both again,” Justine said softly. “Even if it is under these circumstances.”

“It’s not really nice to get any guests in this world.” Shane said with a sigh. He  then looked at her worriedly.

“Are you okay?” He asked her, immediately being shot down by an ofcourseshe’snotokayyoudummy look from Andrea. “Gah, stupid question. Uh, are you feeling a bit better?” He put a hand on her shoulder.

Justine nodded. She really was starting to feel a twinge better.

“Your nice outfit isn't, though. This looks like something I would wear.”

Justine couldn’t help but let out a laugh. Of course  she’d ruined her nice ensemble. Her hair was probably a hot mess, too.

Andrea rolled her eyes, before standing up with a stretch, brushing the dirt off of the black silk of her outfit. She looked around. “We should get back inside. It’s getting cold out here. After we get back in, if you’re up for it… you can tell us what happened.”

Justine swallowed a lump in her throat. She was ready to tell them her story. It wasn’t a nice one, but hey… someone was going to have to do it. She was afraid, though… afraid that reliving her death would bring back the awful voices. They had shouted at her all throughout her time in the coffin. She didn’t want them back in her head, ever again.

She shook it off, and nodded again. She needed to be strong. She was safe now. Andrea offered her a hand up, and together the trio walked back inside the house, leaving Justine’s grave unburied far behind. Justine looked back at it for a moment, before taking a deep breath and focusing her full attention on the bright yellow lights of the house. She had hit rock-bottom. Now she had to move forward, towards another future. It wasn’t the one she wanted. But she could work with it.

Chapter Text

Justine had  sort of predicted at first that she was in the same environment as the house she’d died in. After all, the spot where she woke up was the exact same. So so was the house, and she sort of wished the afterlife could have been a different place. Justine couldn’t help but feel squeamish as they walked in through the open front door, past the dining room, and into the spot where Andrea had unknowingly been condemned to her death. After all, this house was where she’d seen more deaths than she had in her entire life- but she trusted Shane and Andrea. They seemed completely comfortable there, so Justine could only assume it was a perfectly safe place. What didn’t seem perfectly safe, though, was the fact that she could now clearly see red smoke oozing gently out of Shane’s mouth, and faded gray clouds swirling around Andrea. She assumed that that was just something that happened in the afterlife, apparently, but that didn’t make it any less weird. One thing she had noticed about herself, though, was that she hadn’t felt the familiar rise and fall of her chest. Of course, that could be because she was dead, but by the time they had gotten there at the fast pace they were walking, both Shane and Andrea seemed slightly out of breath. Justine didn’t feel anything.

They entered the lounge, taking seats (Andrea on a white chair, Justine on the edge of a couch next to said white chair, Shane right next to her). They had brushed her off on the way there, and even though she looked marginally better, she still had a dark cloud of dirt stained on the side of her dress.

Goddamnit.

Still, she readied herself, and with a deep breath, Justine shakily recounted everything that had happened. The seance and finding all of Caroline’s stuff (Shane and Andrea both looked fittingly disturbed), going outside, the random-ass piano, the key, and the empty coffin…

Justine choked up a bit at that part. This would be difficult to tell.

“Matt and Tim found a letter. From the person who was buried alive, somehow? It said that we had to vote…” Justine trailed off, looking at her feet and trying very hard not to think about the story she was telling. It wasn’t working.

“Who went into the challenge with you?” asked Andrea, guiding her through the process.

“N-nobody. Only one vote.”

“Only one?” Shane asked, blinking.

“Yeah. They had to just… send someone to die.” Justine said. She hadn’t noticed that her fists were clenched.

Shane and Andrea, particularly Shane, seemed conflicted. As if the group would never really kill anybody directly.

“So… was there a monster? Some creature that dragged you into the coffin?” Shane asked, some obscure morsel of hope in his voice.

Justine shook her head. Even though she wore gloves, she felt her fingernails digging into the palm of her hand.

“No. They had to- to put me in the coffin. I tried to run, but then Marvin came out of nowhere, and Tim and Lele grabbed my feet, and Joey tried to stop them but he couldn’t and… ” Justine let out a choked sob, looking down at the floor. She silently cursed herself, for her lack of strength. She couldn’t let it get to her anymore, just had to move on…

“Oh my god…” Shane exchanged a glance with Andrea. Sure, she had been voted into a death challenge, and Shane had been poisoned, but they had both had a glimmer of chance at survival. Justine hadn’t. And the group had killed her. With no mercy except from Joey, apparently. When Justine looked up again, Shane pulled her into a hug.

While Justine had been recounting the story, she had of course felt the emotions of her story come back to haunt her, what was to be expected… but another thing she felt was simply pure anger and bitterness. They had buried her alive. Everyone except Joey, and sort-of Matt, was to blame for her death.

Her murderers.

If she ever saw any of them again, she wanted to let them all know how much it had hurt for her. She was on the receiving end of one of the worst fates possible. They had shown no hesitation, except for perhaps Oli. Still, he’d been shovelling too.

In that moment, she didn’t care that it was necessary for the artifact or whatever.

They had still done it.

“But why would they vote you in?” Andrea piped up, resting a hand on Justine’s shoulder. “You failed to save me, sure, but… you tried your best.”

A beat.

“... Didn’t you?” Justine felt a pang of guilt at the sliver of uncertainty in her voice.

Justine swallowed. Yes, she’d voted Andrea in. But she hadn’t wanted her to die. She was stupid, she’d told everyone so…

“I did. But they didn’t think so. They thought I killed you on purpose, and I said some things I shouldn’t have…” Andrea furrowed her brows, but didn’t press her for questions.

“Maybe she needed to go, honestly, I mean what was she even doing here?”

“Who’s the fixer now?”

“ Then Oli found a note… it said that one among us was in league with the evil of the house.”

Shane tensed up, and looked at her.

“ What?’

“One of us is in league with the evil of the house. And they thought it was me… but it wasn’t.” Justine said, exhaling deeply. Andrea squeezed her shoulder reassuringly.

“Of course it wasn’t, I doubt you’d actually be here if you were.” She said.  Justine smiled up at her gratefully.

“Justine, who was in the house when you received the note?” Shane asked, looking at her his an intensity that had seemed to dawn on him just then.

“Uhm… Joey, GloZell, Eva, Tim, Lele, Oli, Sierra, Matt…” Justine wracked her brain. “Oh, right! And Sarah, Arthur and Marvin,  Joey’s staff. Why? Do you know?” She asked, looking at him. Next to her, Andrea seemed equally invigorated with the question.

“The staff. They’re the evil ones.”

“What? How do you know?” Andrea asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Remember the beginning of the party? How Eva and I snuck off?”

“Of course, neither of you told us what happened.”

“We saw a dead body. Being disposed of by Sarah the maid.” Shane said, wringing his hands. This was met with a shocked gasp from both Justine and Andrea.

“And you didn’t tell us?”

“We didn’t want you guys to freak out!”

“Still, you should have at least warned somebody, like Joey!”

“Do you think he would actually believe me, Justine?” Shane asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I… I guess not.”

“Exactly my point.”

“So the creepy maid was dragging away a dead body?”

“Yup. And besides, they came with the house. The house is evil. What more proof do you need?”

“Oh, god.” Justine put a hand to her mouth. Joey and the rest of them were standing right next to a trio of murderous freaks who were helping orchestrate this whole thing. And they had no idea, and were blaming innocent people like her.

“God, being dead sucks.” Andrea chimed in, out of absolutely nowhere.

“Of course it does, but what does that have to do with the issue right now?”

“Our friends are out there, going headlong into challenges and shit, probably blaming each other for everything, trusting the evil people and they’re probably not gonna know until it’s too late, and we know exactly who the rats are and we can’t do anything about it because we’re freaking dead. God, I was blamed for being useless before, but now we actually are useless and it’s the worst.”

Andrea clenched her fists and leaned forward in her chair, breathing heavily. Her eyes were stormy.

Justine felt the same frustration pulse through her veins as she listened to her friend. They could end this whole thing and put their friends out of the line of fire if they had some way of reaching out to them. But they didn’t.

‘Let’s just hope for the best, I guess.” Shane said flatly. He didn’t even sound like he believed what he was saying. The group rested in silence and apprehension. Waiting for something to happen. They just didn’t know what quite yet. And then, after like five minutes of nothingness,  Justine noticed something.

“Um, guys? Why the hell is the carpet flashing?”

The middle of the carpet just a few inches away from Justine’s feet had started to emit a yellowish light. It was fragmented, but was slowly starting to grow in size and brightness. Justine scrambled her feet off of the carpet and onto the couch, letting out noises of general distress. Andrea, apparently thinking a bomb was about to go off, lept off her white chair and beelined to apparent safety behind the couch. Shane’s eyes grew wide with alarm. He covered his ears and buried his face into a throw pillow.

Justine barely had enough time to shield her eyes with an arm before all hell broke loose. The glow  spontaneously combusted, along with the sound of a bell that was way too loud, and white light momentarily blinded her vision.

Then all was still.

Shane slowly removed his throw pillow.

Andrea’s hands moved to the top of the couch. She peeped up, still apparently trying to stay out of the line of fire.

Justine hesitantly removed her arms from her face.

In true cartoon style, all three of them screamed.

Right in front of them was the dead body of GloZell Green, wig askew, animal friend abandoned next to her, hand gripping her cane, and a small pool of blood trickling from her lips.

Andrea scrambled out on her hands and knees, rushing to her side. Shane did the same. Justine scrunched back onto the couch.

“WHAT THE HELL?”

Chapter Text

It was Joey.

She’d known it all along, damnit.

And now she was dead.

Well they’re doomed without me, everyone thinks Joey’s innocent.

He’s not.

It’s his house.

GloZell had been minding her own business hoping Joey, the obvious traitor, would just freakin’ bite the dust already. Then she’d been attacked by a sudden constricting, horrible pain in her throat. She hacked, coughed, flailed and tried to fight off whatever damn demon Joey had sent to kill her. But it wouldn’t let up, and as the rest of her friends screamed and shouted she died right there.

“She’s twerk dying!”

Thanks a bunch, Tim.

GloZell’s eyes flew open as she rolled on her back and sat right up, breathing heavily. She was gripping her cane, and her head felt much lighter. So did her neck.

Stupid wig.

She looked around wildly at her surroundings, hoping vaguely that Joey or any of them were around. Maybe she was still alive?

Nope, next to her, trying to get her to calm down, were Shane Dawson and Andrea Brooks, both of whom were dead. And just behind the two was Justine, unhelpfully scrunched up on the couch.

She was dead.

“Goddamn Joey!” She shouted, slamming the hand containing her cane onto the ground. Joey had caused her to lose her friends, her wig,her sanity,  and eventually, her life. She was so angry at her ex-boo that she could hardly speak. Shane jumped.

“Calm down, GloZell. You’re totally safe now.” said Andrea, patting her shoulder and trying to get her to cool off.

“I’m not safe. Not while Joey in runnin’ around, killing everybody!”

“GloZell-”

“ And why are we still in the goddamn house? This is Joey workin’ his demon magic again, he knew I wanted this house at first and now he’s just tryin’ to taunt me! Well you’re not gonna last longer, JOEY! Because now everyone is gonna know you killed me and they’re gonna come for you! They’d better!” She said, pointing her cane up at the sky and hoping he could hear her.

Shane and Andrea looked at each other with a mutual she’s gone crazy expression. Justine sat silently on the couch. Her arms were folded.

“GloZell, just calm down-”

“ Don’t tell me to-”

“GloZell. Andrea, Justine and I have been here for hours, we’re totally fine. Whatever is going on with you, we need to know about it. So just  back it up, put your wig back on-” Shane passed it to her, clearly trying not to laugh, she could tell- “and tell us what happened.”

GloZell, in a huff, did as he asked.

“So I’m dead?”

“Yup.”

GloZell looked down, slowly both trying to process the fact that she was dead and quench the angry fire inside of her that was threatening to burn her up and explode any minute.

“So…” said Shane, slowly, trying not to get her to explode. “How did you die?”

“Shane, do you have to start off with that?” Andrea muttered.

“Shh.”

GloZell wondered if she should tell them at all. After all, she barely knew why she was dead. She was just sure that Joey had killed her. But nonetheless, she stood up, and recounted the events in her head.

“Well, we had to vote two people in to play perverse games-”

“Wait, what?” Shane asked, his voice some weird mesh of ‘ what the hell?’ And ‘aw dammit I missed that’

“ You heard me. And we were all votin’, and I voted for Joey cause he’s the demon.” GloZell said, completely sure of herself. It was his house, his signature on the invitation.

Shane opened his mouth.

“And then all of a sudden, while we’re waiting for one of them to come back down,  I just start choking up blood and coughin’ and then I’m dead.”

“Wait, you weren’t voted into the challenge?” asked Andrea.

“No!”

“So how could you have been the one to die?”

“Simple! Joey lost to Lele, because she’s awesome, and he used his damn powers over the house to kill me instead, just because I knew he was evil! I was the only one who could see it!”

GloZell was livid with anger. She couldn’t believe anything that was happening right now, except for the full certainty that Joey was the one in league with the evil. Sure, they had thought it was Justine and buried her in the coffin. But Joey had acted just so sad , like he actually cared. He was just trying to win the pity vote so they wouldn’t suspect him. But GloZell had known, so she said her prayers, wrote his name down. When he got called, she was more than happy. Lele was way better than Joey, no way she would lose. So she waited for her friend to come downstairs, told the group exactly what she thought. They finally seemed to be catching onto her logic when she died. Hopefully she’d be seeing him here next. Then he’d finally be put to justice like he deserved.

“GloZell, Joey’s not the one in league with-”

“Zip-zap-a-doop-bappa-doop-bap-boo!” She yelled, successfully cutting off Andrea as she used the same tactic as she had with Joey way back when. “Joey is the killer, it’s his house, that’s the only explanation! He killed me, and he  killed you-” she snapped, pointing at Shane with her black cane- “And you-” she rotated it to a shell-shocked Andrea- “and y-”

She finally stopped as the cane pointed right at iJustine, who had been stonily silent until now. Her arms were folded, her nails digging into her arms. The expression on her face was ice-cold, nothing she’d ever thought she’d see on such a sweet girl. GloZell wanted to say that Joey killed her. But Joey hadn’t put the girl in the ground.

“ Who killed me?” Justine said slowly.

“I mean, I guess Joey didn’t technically kill you but-”

Justine started to slowly stand up.

“ If memory serves me right, Joey was the only person who didn’t kill me.”

“Boo, I-”

“ No!” Justine snapped. Andrea and Shane both jumped.

“You can't call me your friend anymore. Do you know how it feels? To be buried alive, completely alone, in a dark space where you can barely move?  No matter how hard you cry, that no one cares about basic human decency enough to even try to stop, except the person you’re accusing of being a demon!” Justine said. She was enraged, and GloZell felt herself flooded with a storm of guilt. Andrea tried to grab Justine’s arm, but she yanked it away.

“I know Joey. And even if I didn’t, the only murderer here is you! You and the rest of them. I died, and it’s because of all of you buried me in the ground!”

“We HAD to!”

“I don’t CARE! No matter what you ‘had’ to do, that’s not any sort of damn excuse to me! I was terrified, I suffocated alone and helpless and there’s no way Joey’s the demon, because if he was then he would have been throwing dirt on my grave like the rest of you!” Justine said. Tears were welled up in her eyes. Her face was flushed red. She had stormed right up to GloZell with clenched fists.

“Like you’re so innocent, Justine!” GloZell snapped back at her. The fire bubbling and boiling inside her had finally reached its peak. She spit her words furiously. “You killed Andrea! And don’t gimme all of that “ I’m dumb” nonsense because it’s just not true! You voted for her, and you killed her on purpose, I know you did! You wanted her out. And Joey was just tryin’ to be oh so innocent with his acting so sad about you, because he ain't really so sad! He just pretended to be your only friend that whole time and then just stood and watched and acted like ‘ oh no stop it! ’ without actually doing anything! He’s evil, and he just made you believe he was innocent because he knew it’d be easy!”

GloZell regretted her words almost as soon as they left her mouth. She still thought Joey was evil, but… seeing the faces of her new comrades made her rethink just what she said. She’d let her anger with Joey fester and boil and explode onto Justine. It was her own fault that Justine was dead. She had every right to be angry.

I just made a huge mistake.

Shane’s mouth was covered. He took a step away from her.

Andrea looked aghast, her eyes flickering with shock and disbelief.

“Joey’s my best friend,” Justine said shakily, clearly trying not to cry. “And I did try. You weren’t even there. The only reason he didn’t do anything was because you held him back. I saw that. And to think I once thought you were my friend. Is an apology that painful to spit out?” Justine said, her words laced with venom. They slithered right into GloZell’s heart.

“Justine, I’m sorry-”

“Forget it. I just can’t talk to you right now.”

Justine covered her face with one hand, letting out a choked sob. She stormed past GloZell, opening the door that lead outside. She walked right through, and slammed it behind her. GloZell watched as she stormed off into the garden. Regret clawed at her heart.

“I have to-” She started to head towards the door, but Shane held her arm.

“Give her space.”

Andrea shook her head. With no Shane to hold her arm back, she followed after Justine, and not long after she disappeared into the night.

GloZell sat down on one of the chairs, breathing heavily.

“You shouldn’t have said those things.”

“I know. I’m just… angry. Angry that all of my friends are dyin’. And Joey’s the one who’s to blame for it. It’s his house, who else could be the rat?”

“I get that… and I won’t remind you of all the things that were wrong about what you just said, but…”

“Yeah.”

“We figured out who it was.”

“What?”

‘The rat.”

Shane told her the story. By the time he was done, GloZell wanted to believe he was wrong but…

It made complete sense. The staff came with the house. The house was evil. All of her anger, her fury, her harsh words, her death… the real traitors had slipped right under her nose.

“I feel terrible.” She murmured. Shane nodded, placing a hand on her back.

“Yeah. Well, I think, for the time being, we should let the matter of Justine and Joey go and figure out how you really died.” Shane said, standing up.

“Yeah,” GloZell murmured. “Yeah, okay.”

Shane led her to the library, and stopped in front of the spirit board. It looked the exact same as it had in real life.

“Wait, so what’re we doing?”

“Getting the answers from the dead.”

“But we are dead.”

“Getting answers from the fellow dead, then.”

Shane took a deep breath, and recited;

“Greetings, spirits. Show me the life that has been lost at this hour.”

“Oh, hell no!” GloZell yelped as the spirit board lit up. It twisted into a bird’s eye view of the house, with parts labelled off. In the little square where it said ‘lounge’ there was a twisting symbol, one of the artifacts right next to a little mannequin figure. Shane seemed to be examining the map, before he gasped and pointed something out.

“Mannequin room. That’s never been there before.” He said, pointing at the only labelled square on the upstairs floor as it faded away.

“So should we check that out?”

“Just a sec.”

GloZell saw what he meant. After the image was completely gone, the letters simultaneously flashed to construct a word.

J-O-U-R-N-A-L

“That’s random.” commented Shane.

“Well, let’s go figure it out.”

Together, Shane and GloZell headed upstairs (Shane taking the time to comment that “this is still so creepy”) and headed into the room, whereupon, despite the circumstances, they both burst out laughing.

“Oh my god, is this a mannequin orgy?” Shane asked looking around like a two-year-old in a candy shop at all the scantily clad mannequins everywhere in various positions.

“Perverse games indeed, Jesus Christ.” Glozell muttered, nearly tripping over one of them lying on the ground next to a wine bottle.

“Oh my god..” Shane said, seemingly in complete awe of the freak show. So while he was touring, Glozell noticed an open journal on the desk.

“Shane, stop peeping at the mannequins and come look at this.” GloZell said. Shane joined her, and together, they looked at it and read it aloud at the same time.

“This is a murder journal. The person whose name you write down on the next page with die a horrible death.”

“Oh, my god.”

“Look. It’s my name.”

Written in the same exact handwriting as the writing on the invite to the party was her name.

GloZell Green.

“So Joey did kill me.”

“I guess he did. You were right.”

It didn’t make her feel any better.

Chapter Text

“Well, at least we know how you died now.” Shane said, a few minutes after they had actually found out. He had given GloZell some time to think.

That was good, because she was still taking a moment to process seeing her name in a literal death journal. Sure, she may have gone off a little strong, but… really, Joey? She sighed, and closed the thing. She shoved it in a cabinet in the desk, and tried her very hardest not to think about it.

“Yeah, whatever. Can we leave now? This room is creepy.” She said, simultaneously trying to both brush it off, and actually trying to get out of the room because holy shit it was the most messed up thing ever.

“ ‘Kay.” Shane said, following her out. GloZell still caught him looking back at it as they exited the doorway, though.

“Don’t tell me you like that room.”

“No! It might have clues in it.” Shane muttered.

“Like what, an arm or a wig or something? It’s not good for anything.” She said irritably.

“Whaaatever.”

Together, the two of them headed down the stairwell, GloZell in the lead. Shane, behind her, seemed to have gone silent for a few minutes before he noticed something, apparently.

“Hey, GloZell, can you follow me for a sec?”

“Yeah, why?”

“See, there’s this thing with the hall closet. Certain parts of it open for certain people... “ He paused, as GloZell gave him a confused look. “Y’know what? I’ll just show you.”

Shane moved ahead of her as they headed into the foyer, stopping before a grandfather clock with a very strange cabinet handle and some very off numbers.

“Wait, why is the minute hand on four and the hour hand on seven? No way it’s that early.” GloZell muttered, picking at the clock hands.

“Oh, that’s the amount of people who are dead, and people who are alive.” Shane said, somehow nonchalantly. GloZell jumped back.

“Wait, so if we like, moved the hour hand to six would someone alive just die?” She wondered aloud. Shane gave her a quizzical look.

“Um, first of all, why would you want to know? And second, I doubt it, but let’s not find out. Anyway, that’s not why I brought you to this clock. Here. Try pushing down on the part… here.” Shane pointed to the part just underneath the second part that was pushed to the side. GloZell nodded, shrugged, closed her fist around it, and pushed. It didn’t budge, though. Shane knelt down next to it with a frown.

“That’s weird… it worked this way for me and Andrea.” He said, vaguely nodding to the two parts that were pushed down. Each one had a shimmering symbol engraved in the metal. One had a rifle. The other, the silhouette of a talking woman. GloZell pulled back, and shrugged.

“Maybe it’s just not working today?’

“No, it’s probably just because Justine hasn’t pushed hers down yet.” said somebody. GloZell jumped and nearly fell on her back.

Andrea had come out of absolutely nowhere and knelt down between them to look at the cabinet.

“Jesus, Andrea, you could’ve given our poor souls some warning,” Shane stood up, and jokingly swatted her arm. “Anyway, good to see you back. Is… is she here?” Shane swiveled. GloZell stiffened up. Any bozo with half of a brain would know he was referring to Justine.

“Yeah. She’s fine, just outside near the pool. GloZell…” Andrea looked at her, seeming to weigh her words very carefully. She didn’t seem to regard her with hate though, so that was good. “I think you should go talk to her.” GloZell swallowed, and stood up. Shane looked at her, but she couldn't read him. Andrea’s arms were folded tentatively.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” GloZell took a deep breath, and headed out the open front door, leaving Andrea and Shane behind. She headed forward with purpose, passing though trees and past well-trimmed bushes and flower beds. She looked out for the pool, seeing its shimmery reflective blue sheen out in the distance. She thought she could see a figure sitting near it. But before she could approach further, or even call out, something extremely weird and probably the work of the devil happened. Up in the sky, she saw a sort of… rift? A tear? It looked almost like a tearing seam in clothing. It was opening golden light… and it was getting a bit bigger.

All of a sudden, a beam of light a bit like a comet shot down from the middle of it at lightspeed. GloZell screamed loudly, stumbling in her heels and nearly falling over.

I think I peed myself a bit… GloZell thought. Then she internally slapped herself.

But it wasn’t aiming anywhere near where she was… instead, it touched down somewhere in what looked like the basement. A few stomach-churning moments later, the area just outside the door flashed with a blinding golden light. And, just to accompany it, the supersonic ‘boom’ of a clock bell rang in her eardrums, which she covered far too late to be useful. She looked back up at the sky. All was still. It looked completely fine. The stars twinkled reassuringly. The moon still shone in the distance.

Huh.

GloZell had never even noticed how.. clear the sky was in comparison to the real world. Back when she was alive, it had been overshadowed with dark clouds. They had hovered across the sky, only showing a sliver of the silver moon that now shone brightly above the horizon. It was… beautiful. This place, this whole place was just a huge improvement over where she’d died.

Too bad it wasn’t even in the real world.

GloZell sighed and heaved, trying her best to catch her breath. She clutched her heart, and then she heard a pitter-patter of gentle footsteps. She looked up, and there was Justine, running towards her, blue eyes wide, still red from obvious crying, and clearly anxious. GloZell straightened  up, thinking for a minute that oh wow this is not the sort of apology I wanted to give her.

“G-GloZell? I heard the noises, it means someone new is dead, we have to go-” Justine had started out in anxious chatter, but then she seemed to remember how angry she was. She pulled back, and looked down at the ground.

“We need to go find Shane and Andrea.” She started towards the house, but GloZell interrupted her.

“Wait, Justine! Shane and Andrea can deal with it, besides, I… came to apologize.” GloZell shouted back. Justine stiffened, and turned around a bit.

“Really? Because last time you yelled about me, and my best friend.” She said, bitterly.

“Its… It’s just ‘cause I was scared. And mad. About the whole dyin’ thing. And I know it was bad, but I was just angry… because Joey was the reason we’re all here and in danger in the first place. Plus, he killed me pretty much directly, so…”

“ What?”

“He and Lele put my name in a death journal.”

A beat. Justine still looked drawn back, but she seemed at least conflicted now.

“You’re not the only one who got killed by her friends.”

Justine’s mouth set into a thin line as she bit her lip. Her eyes now sparked with a sort of sympathy.

“And I couldn’t really accept that I was dying… so I just took it out on you.” GloZell spoke the truth as best she could. Wasn’t much she could say that would prove her point more than what she had felt as boiling-hot rage up and overflowed into her brain.

Another moment of silence, and then Justine finally responded.

“So… just to get this straight. This doesn’t mean I forgive you. A-and it doesn’t make what happened okay.” She said.

“Uh-huh.”

“And I don’t forgive the others, either.” She said, carefully, as if she wasn’t sure of her own words.

“ ‘Course not.”

“ I still think Joey’s my best friend, and he doesn’t have an evil bone in his body, and you don’t.”

“M-hm.”

“But I don’t want to fight anymore… not when we’re probably going to be hanging out forever. Talking with Andrea really put that into perspective… Anyway,  let’s just move on, and agree to disagree.” She finished.

GloZell heaved a sigh of relief.

“Oh, thank god. I was afraid you were ‘gon be mad at me for the rest of eternity.” She joked. Justine let out a small giggle, and stuck out her hand. GloZell shook it… then pulled her into a hug. Justine let out an honest-to-god laugh this time, and for the first time since death, GloZell got a warm, fuzzy feeling, the first one she’d gotten in a loooooong time.

“Okay, okay, you’re squishing me.” Justine laughed. GloZell pulled away with a smile, then pointed dramatically to the house.

“Let’s go find a dead body! I saw the light touch down in the basement. ”

“Great. I hate that dumb place… Please tell me Shane and Andrea have dealt with it already…” Justine muttered, following GloZell, who was army-marching toward the steps and humming the “Havin’ fun with Jooeeyy, I hope he’ll give me summa that monneeyyy” melody over and over under her breath.

Shane and Andrea had in fact, not dealt with it already.

When GloZell and Justine crawled down to the musty, creepy place, they passed by the room that could only be the one of the Ungodly Machine (Justine flinched away when she saw it) and passed down another corridor… to the sounds of screaming and shouting.

“They’re s’posed to be pros at this. Why haven’t they just dealt with it already? Jesus.” GloZell complained as they headed down a stone hallway lit up with small lanterns attached to the walls.

“Shhhht. It’s coming from just down the hallway.” Justine said, holding up her index finger abruptly. They descended further into the darkness. GloZell could just tell that they both thought it was similar to a freaky dungeon.

They finally reached a door, and GloZell and Justine looked at each other. They heard shouts of “Shane, hold her down!” and “ I’m trying! God!”

“So I guess this person is really mad that they’re dead.” muttered GloZell.

“Uhm, yeah. Maybe. But I don’t wanna go in…” Justine said, shrinking away from the heavy doorhandle. She was interrupted by Andrea, who yelled/cursed something inaudible from inside the room.

“We don’t really have a choice.” muttered GloZell. Justine took a shaky breath, clearly bracing herself for the worst, and nodded.

“Count ‘o three. One… two… three.” She pushed the door open, and she and Justine both joined a lovely chorus.

“ OH GOD! OH GOD, NO!” Justine panicked.

‘WHAT THE HELL? I REBUKE THEE! I REBUKE THEE!” GloZell shrieked.

On the table were three very disturbing things.

1. Shane on the edge of the table being yankered around by two feet in very nice heels.
2. Andrea trying (and failing) to hold down two arms at once while at the same time tugging at the person’s neck.
3. Sierra Furtado screaming and flailing around on the table, clearly in a twisted combination of fear, agony, and rage.

“Ohhellno it’s Sierra.” GloZell said in an unflatteringly high-pitched voice.

“Justine?” Shane nearly got kicked in the face. “GloZell?’’ He then yanked down her foot and got jerked to the side.

“Where - HFF - In the hell - GAH - have you two been? Got a girl to deal with here!” shouted Andrea, trying in vain to hold two wrists down with a single hand. GloZell immediately regained her senses while Justine had a mini-panic, and ran over to Sierra, Justine following shortly after.

“Gaah, wh-what do I do? What even is happening?” Justine fretted in a confused panic.

“Take her other arm!” Andrea responded, Justine shaking herself back to attention and grabbing one of her wrists. Sierra screamed hoarsely.

“GloZell! You have to get that rosary off of her neck. It’s black and ominous and scary, we think it’s causing the source of her little fit here.”

“You think or you know?”

“Just do it, already! And yes, we know because there’s a note on the ground explaining that it’s a link to her ballistic flailing party and that we need to get it off, like, now.”

“I was just askin’!” GloZell replied defensively. She looked just around her neck area. Sure enough, a rosary was shaking and heaving around her neck. It had a black-ish red, smoky aura. GloZell reached out for it, through the smoke. It felt like sticky tar, though. Somehow it was trying to hold her back.

Thankfully she managed to get her hand through, and started to yank on the rosary. It felt like it was stuck to her like glue. Maybe that’s why she screamed extra-loud when GloZell tugged on the cross. Justine lurched forward onto the bed as Sierra yanked her arm over to get GloZell away from her bling.

“How is she this strong?” Justine asked, struggling to pull her arm away from GloZell.

“I don’t - GAH - know. All we know is that the spirit board said - SHIT - exorcism, so maybe she’s possessed or something!” Shane yelled.

“OH MY GOD!” screamed back Justine.

“That ain’t helping anybody!” yelled GloZell, trying to lift it above Sierra’s neck. She was not helping. She was both lifting her head up to make GloZell’s life harder, and trying to bite her hands, apparently.

“Well I’m sorry for putting things into perspective!”

“FOCUS ON THE ROSARY.” snapped Andrea, who was now almost leaning back fully on Sierra’s arm trying to hold her back as she pulled them close towards the direction of her neck.

“Andrea, lighten u-”

“ Not in the mood. GloZell, keep going!”

GloZell nodded, and tried in vain to pull it off her head. Then she decided screw it.

She plunged her other hand through the cloudy, tar-y stuff, and grabbed the two horizontal ends of the rosary with her two hands. With a growl of frustration, she started to tug at them, hard as she could. She strained her muscles,  threw off her gloves, put all her focus into the task at hand. And miraculously, after a minute or so of tugging, it broke with a loud snap and a roar from Sierra. The smoke dissipated into the musty air. Beads fell everywhere, clattering onto the stone floor. Shane slumped down, then promptly banged his head on the bedrest. Justine dropped her arm, stepping backwards, raising her hands away, clearly terrified. Andrea let go of her arm and looked over her both with a hint of curiosity and fear. GloZell flung the dumb cross from the rosary across the room. It hit a bookshelf with a thud.  And Sierra finally stopped moving, the hazy aura of a rosary glowing like a glimmering white star around her neck.

Chapter Text

Being possessed was probably the worst thing that had ever happened in Sierra’s life.

She’d just been sitting there, trying to hold down the possessed woman, praying to god that Matt wouldn’t mess it up. But he had just… put that rosary on her head, and suddenly red fog clouded her mind. She could hear her own heartbeat pounding like a drum in her ears. At the beat was getting slower and heavier as she panicked and fought for the last drop of life she could muster.

Then she was… asleep? In a coma? Passed out briefly?

Dead?

No, of course not, that couldn’t happen…

Right?

But why?

There wasn’t any challenge.

There wasn’t any game , right?

Why did I die?

Did I die?

I’m not dead, right?

Of course I’m not, it’s okay, I’m okay, I have to be okay, please...

Did I do it wrong?

Did Matt do it wrong?

I’m so confused, god, just give me the answer...

Get me out of here! Please!

These were all thoughts that passed through her head as she found herself trapped again inside that same red vortex, that same horrible place clouding her vision. She was just little Sierra, completely trapped and alone in a cyclone of swirling, horrible black and red fog, no matter how hard she tried to run at it. She pounded at the barrier around her, crying for help. She was trapped in her own mind.

And yet she could feel the demon, lurking through her very soul. It crept through her veins and set them on fire. The same fire, the same presence broke through her and turned her into a ballistic monster. She had no control over what she felt herself doing. And she felt herself scream and cry until her throat was sore, scratch at the bedsheets, kick and snarl at people trying to hold her down. Pain tore through her. She almost heard the laughter of a demon echoing and reverberating in her ears. In a panic, she tried reciting the prayer she had memorized for the exorcism.

“S-S- Saint Michael! The archangel! Be our-” She was drowned out by the horrible whirl of the cyclone, the cackling that seemed to be coming directly from her ear, and she sunk to her knees and sobbed, praying that her nightmare would end.

And then, just like that, something snapped. Very literally. It was like in cartoons, when they turn the T.V off and there was like, a little flash of white light and then it cut to black. Accompanied with a loud snapping noise, like something being broken.

The cyclone vanished.

The cackling silented.

All was still and quiet and pitch-black.

Is that because my eyes are closed?

“Oh my god, I think we killed her.” A deep, bouncy voice.

“She’s already dead, you can’t kill people twice.” A high, frightened voice.

“Wait, so if you get, like, eaten by a shark…”

“How the hell would someone get eaten by a shark here?” A relatively calm-sounding voice.

“It’s rhetorical.”

“Shut up guys, Sierra’s still dead.”

“She’s a girl. I feel outnumbered.” The first male voice she heard.

“Your problem?”

“I literally just mentioned it in that sentence.”

“Sierra. Remember that little detail? ”

Those voices were all chillingly familiar.

Slowly, Sierra opened her eyes. She was lying on a bed, limbs spread out. She blinked, looked around, then shrieked. She looked frantically at the people around her, praying with all her heart that it was Matt, Lele, Eva, Joey, maybe even Tim…

No.

Standing above her was a blonde with dirty but still beautiful blonde hair, a glinting headpiece, and bright blue eyes locked in a terrified expression. Justine. Next to her was a boy with green eyes and dusty red hair. Shane… Next to him, a woman with curly brown hair, brown eyes. GloZell. No, it couldn’t be… and then finally, a girl with a copper-brown updo, dark makeup, and a headband. Andrea.

““No. Noooo, no. No. Nononononononono.” Sierra muttered fearfully to herself. These were people she was never supposed to see again, these people were all dead. She couldn’t be dead, she had trusted Matt, she thought he’d protect her, she did everything right, this was all a bad dream, she couldn’t be… no…

She scrambled away from the four of them, chest heaving, eyes alight with fear. She then realized that she was on… a bed. A framed metal bed with a messy white sheet. Candles… a bookshelf…

She was in the basement. She was still in the horrifying basement, nononono please, why….

“Oh geez, she’s terrified.” murmured Andrea, her voice sympathetic.

“Sierra? Boo, it’s us. You're okay. You’re safe.” GloZell said, reaching out a hand.

No, no, this wasn’t GloZell and Andrea, this was just a bad dream, Matt was going to shake her up any minute  and smile and say that it was done and they were both okay… she was going back to her life at any moment… she was going to see her loved ones again.

She shrunk away from her.

“This isn’t real. I know it’s not. I-I didn’t do anything. I’m not dead. I’m not, I know it, I…”

Sierra scrunched up into a sitting position onto the bed, and hugged her knees, now choking on her own tears as she tried to hold back her emotions.

She felt someone plop down next to her, and against her better judgement, she looked up. It was still the thing that looked like GloZell.

Was it GloZell?

It couldn’t be.

She was so… confused.

“Sierra… honey… I really hate to break it to you, but, you’re dead. You’re with us now, it’s okay.”

GloZell wrapped an arm around Sierra’s shoulder, and she burst into tears. So, it was true. She really had died. She was never ever going to see the world of 2016 again, and any of her friends, her loved ones, her home… it had all crashed down so suddenly, she couldn’t accept it, how on earth could she ever?

“I- I don’t know what happened-” She said, choking on her own tears as she tried to spit out the words. “M-me and Matt were just d-doing the challenge and then all of a sudden I just…”

She couldn’t even finish that sentence, because that word was just… impossible to say. Died. She was supposed to make it out, and she hadn’t even understood how or why she was gone. Still, GloZell wrapped her in a bear hug, and Sierra cried into her shoulder. The embrace almost felt like a shield, a shield from everything that had gone wrong. She wasn’t sure how long she stayed there. She heard voices. But she ignored those, tried to focus on a feeling of warmth. That was hard. Whenever she tried to think of something happy, it just reminded her of everything she’d lost.

After a little while, she pulled away. GloZell was still sitting next to her, keeping one arm wrapped around her.

“You okay? Remember to breathe. It’s all gonna be fine.”

Sierra nodded, trying to focus on what she’d said. In… and out. In, and out.

She let out a shaky sigh, and looked up. GloZell smiled, and rubbed her shoulder.

“You okay?”

“Little bit.” she murmured, loose tears still gently trickling down her face.

“Not… demon-y anymore?”

Sierra let out a shaky, breathless laugh.

“No… just confused.” she meant it, too. Even though her thoughts had stopped spiralling, it was still difficult being in a world with dead people and not knowing how you even got there in the first place. It felt like a void of unanswered questions was opening right in front of her and she’d feel forcefully sucked in.

“I know how you feel, don’t worry. I died randomly too, y’know.”

Sierra nodded dully, trying her best not to think about it.

“So you have no idea what happened?” GloZell asked, looking at her.

Sierra bit her lower lip and shook her head.

“No. Matt and I… we had to perform an exorcism on some girl who’d been possessed. I had to hold her down while Matt did the ritual, and we were nearly done when Matt put something on my head and…” She tried to put into words to describe what happened after that, but ended up speechless. She just shook her head, confused.

“Wait, exorcism?”

“Y- yeah.” Sierra shuddered.

“God, I’m glad I wasn’t around for that. Eurgh.” She said, shuddering. Sierra laughed a little as she remembered GloZell’s whole little oh no jesus, I rebuke you satan! act when the box had opened. She would’ve flipped out.

“Wait, Sierra. Was the thing Matt put on your head anything like the thing on your neck?” she asked.

“What, my necklace?” She asked, absent-mindedly fingering it. “No, no way anything that fancy would’ve been in that room.” Sierra told her.

“No, not that. I mean that weird light around your neck.”

“What weird ligh- oh, what the hell?” She asked, looking down at her neck. Around her neck was a gentle, smoky white glow, in the definitive shape of a rosary. She tried to touch it, but to no avail: her fingers simply passed through. It felt tingly. And weird.

“Uhm… I think he had a rosary with him, yeah.” She said, trying to remember against her better judgement.

“Well, that’s weird as hell, because we spent like the last five minutes tryin’ to wrestle a rosary off of your neck.”

“Wrestle?”

“You were goin’ crazy.”

Sierra blinked. Was that what she’d been doing when trapped inside that vortex? She shuddered, and wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly feeling very cold. That was just… no!

“Did I hurt anybody?”

“Well, apart from maybe hitting Shane in the-”

“I don’t  need to know where , GloZell!” Sierra said, cutting her off. GloZell laughed.

She's like Tim.

“No, just gave us a really hard time.”

“Sorry.” Sierra said in a small voice.

“Hey, it’s okay. You clearly were not in full control there, I mean you knocked off your pretty tiara!” She said, grabbing it from where it had been flung and carefully placing it right back on her head. Sierra smiled. It made her feel just a twinge better to have it back on her head.

“Well, whatever happened to you, I’m gonna get some answers outta Matt when he gets here even if it’s the last thing I do.” GloZell said,  looking full-on ready to go bad cop and interrogate Matt as soon as she could. Wait, but…

“GloZell, what do you mean, when? If-if this is the land of the dead, and they’re all gambling in challenges up there, who says he’ll even get here? I mean, I don’t want him to, but…”

“Well, I don’t want to be a pessimist here, but Justine got the boot for failin’ to save Andrea. Who says the same won’t happen to him? I know I’d be mad if I was still alive.”

Sierra pondered on that for a moment, and decided to push that very good hypothesis out of her head to focus on another part of her sentence.

“Wait, Justine is here?” Sierra still remembered the Gambler’s last moments. Hearing her anguished cries. That was when the real gravity of everything had crashed down upon her like a black wave. After that, everything had felt so much more… real.

“Yeah, left with Shane and Andrea to do some weird thing with a closet and get some water and- oh, you’re nervous about what she’s gonna say….”

Sierra nodded. She had just taken a moment there to think of how guilt-triggering it would be for her to see not only Justine, but Andrea again as well. She was partially responsible for both of their deaths. Even now, a creeping feeling of guilt and fear churned in her stomach. It was a scary kind of feeling, one that she had tried to shove down to the bottom of her head in order to continue on, even though she wasn’t sure she even could.

“Yeah.” was all she could muster.

“Hey, well, no better time than the present, if you’re up for it.” GloZell said, getting off the bed and walking around to Sierra’s side. She stuck out an arm.

Sierra took a shaky breath, and nodded. GloZell pulled her up, and then into one more hug. Sierra tried to choke back another flurry of tears. It didn’t work.

“Thank you… for staying behind for me.” Sierra murmured earnestly.

“Hey, what’re friends for?” GloZell asked, grabbing Sierra’s hand and pulling her away from the horrible place. Sierra didn’t look back. She never wanted to go down here ever again.

Amen.

___________________________

Sierra shone like a search beacon in the starlight. The glow around her neck was like a flashlight - hopefully when she got into some light in would dull down a little bit. Still, it was really freaking annoying having it shining in her eyes all the damn time. She wasn’t sure why hers was so bad. She could see a disturbing little cloud of red smoke lazily snaking out of GloZell’ mouth as she chattered on about the world of the dead and how stuff worked. Sierra semi-listened. She was still caught up in her thoughts… how she’d had no idea what happened. A two-thousand pound weight pressed against her chest as she thought about how the group had just… turned on her. As if suddenly she’d gotten a sign with big bright red letters  pinned on her back saying I’m the next victim! Kill me  if you wanna live! She had seen so much death, dragged a girl to her grave, voted off someone who may have been completely innocent, failed to save the one person who may have been an asset… and the same fate had befallen her, what did she do?

No one had bothered to stick up for her except for Lele, but a fat load of good that had done her. Maybe she had had a sign pinned up onto her back. Maybe they just saw her as some dumb, useless girl in heels too high to run in and no brains or strength to contribute to the team. The more she thought about it, the more real everything seemed. And before she knew it, she melted into a puddle in the middle of the path, sinking to her knees as fresh tears streamed down her face, her shoulders shaking as she was wracked with grief. Lele was right, they were sick, every last one of them, why hadn’t they sent a stronger, smarter player, like Eva? Eva could’ve done it. Oh wait, Sierra didn’t know, because she had no sort of clue as to how she died other than a stupid flashlight rosary blaring in her eyes like it was the freaking sun.

“Oh, Sierra! Honey, what’s wrong?” GloZell asked, crouching down next to her as Sierra let out choked sobs.

“Th-they just voted me off… no reason… I- I don’t know what I did, GloZell, I don’t know why I deserve any of this, I just wanna go home, to my friends, to Teala, my family, my house, my channel…” It all came gushing out like a waterfall as she sputtered out her feelings to GloZell, trying to control herself but really just making herself sound even more pitiful than she already was. GloZell made some sort of sympathetic noise and wrapped her arms around Sierra again . She was a really great hugger.

“Sierra, It’s gon’ be okay. None of us deserve this, s’pecially not kind people like you, or me, or really anybody here or who’s still at that house over on the other side. I don’t know what those idiots were thinkin’ when they voted you off, or what happened down in the basement, but what I do know is that we’re all in a safe space right about now. And next person who comes in here is gonna explain what happened to you or I will personally dunk ‘em in the swimming pool and hold them there. Cuz you can’t die again if you’re dead.”

Sierra sniffled. GloZell’s words had sent a rush of warmth through her system, but it wasn’t like the horrible fire of being possessed. GloZell spoke with such unfazeable certainty, in such a way that it was nearly impossible not to believe that she spoke the truth. She just made Sierra feel like… like she maybe was in a safe place. That void of questions was still open in front of her… but the weight on her chest lessened.

“Th-th- thank you,” She managed to choke out,  her breaths gaspy and short. “I’m sorry I can’t even h-hold a conversation without having a b-breakdown.”

“Hey, being dead ain’t easy.”

She nodded, and pulled out of the hug, taking a moment to concentrate on her breathing. GloZell waited patiently for her to calm down, keeping a firm hand on her shoulder. She had left 2016 behind, but she’d also left behind the 1920’s, full of traitors like Joey, the oh-so-innocent host who’d turned on her, and people she just couldn’t trust, like Tim, the creepy car mafia guy. All she could hope was that Lele, tough, strong, savvy, smart, loyal Lele, made it out of there alive with her shoulders squared and standing up tall. It’s what she wanted more than anything right now. Lele was her best friend. They were gonna go shopping together. And she wanted Lele to get home safe, to take that shopping trip and buy an awesome, modern outfit… for both of them. She had to. The house had broken her… but it could never break someone like Lele Pons. She was sure.

“Are you okay to stand up?” GloZell asked, cutting into her thought process.

“I… I think so, yeah.” She said, swallowing down the rest of her tears and shakily standing up. This time, as they walked down the short stone path, she leaned heavily on GloZell, still shivering. She was such a reassuring presence that it was hard to understand. She seemed to have accepted death wholeheartedly, and was up for the job of steadying anybody who needed it. Sierra felt like she was in a sort of marathon. She had almost fully stabilized herself in this new dead world, but she still had no idea how she’d gotten there. It was keeping her from feeling the same calm that radiated off GloZell. Her finish line. She battled the hope that somebody would come down and explain stuff to her, and the morally correct choice of hoping nobody would come down here ever again. That was unlikely, though. There were still, what, four more owners to go through? Three? She couldn’t even remember.

Chapter Text

The door was opened for them before they even got up there.

“You guys took so long, are you both okay?” said Shane, big blue eyes clearly concerned. “Any, like, side effects of being possessed by a demon?’

Sierra swallowed, shaking her head slowly. She looked past him at the lounge,  seeing it was the exact same thing as the one in the real world she had left.

“Are you sure this is safe? I mean, who’s saying it’s not another trap?” she asked, nervously. The question was mostly directed at Shane (He had known everything about the house.)

“It’s safe, don’t worry.” Shane waved off the question, as if he had a better explanation but didn’t feel much like explaining. Or he didn’t know. Or he was hiding something.

Nevertheless, she decided to believe him (what else could she do?) and tentatively headed in, as if she were stepping into a minefield. And who said she wasn’t? At least in the real world, she’d known that every single move you made could lead to instant death through your friends turning their backs on you than voting you into your own personal deathtrap. She shuddered a bit.

“So… what’s the deal with this place?” She asked uncertainly. She wondered for a minute if there would be a whole other game for them to play. No, that didn’t make sense. They were already dead.

“Not much.” cut in Andrea, who had just walked in. “We mostly just… hang out. And collect people who've been newly, uhm… removed from life.”

“But what’s the deal with this house? Aren’t we, like… going to some other world? Why is it like the same thing, just with dead people instead of… alive people?”

“None of us really know.” GloZell responded. “But this place is cool, so we just kinda accept it. Right guys?”

“Sure.” Andrea said with a light shrug.”I mean, this place is creepy as all hell in the real world, but I mean we haven’t run into any weird stuff. Other than, um…”

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” Sierra felt her cheeks redden. Even though it totally hadn’t been her fault, Andrea was clearly referring to her demon problem.

“Hey, don’t sweat it.” Shane said with a shrug. “I mean, my old house was probably littered with demons so I won’t sweat it, and neither should you.”

“Thanks, Shane.” Sierra said, ignoring the fact that Andrea was muttering something along the lines of have a little respect for your house, Shane. She wasn’t wrong. He was probably never going to see it again. She decided not to think of her old house, and all of her makeup and clothes and her comfy bed and…

Nope, nope, not thinking about it! Accept it! Move on!

“Sooo… are you two havin’ any ideas on how the heck Sierra died? And where’d Justine go?”

“Here! I’m here!” said Justine, right on cue. She jogged lightly through the doorway, and Sierra couldn’t blame her. Heels were perfect for formal occasions, but for running? Eurgh.

“Sorry, I just needed to grab some water, I am thirsty…” Justine trailed off when her eyes met Sierra’s. Justine cleared her throat awkwardly. “Hi, Sierra. Welcome to the dead club.” She said it like it was a question. Sierra doubted being told that  would make anyone feel honored, or good in any way. But she couldn’t blame Justine for feeling awkward. Guilt crashed down on her like a ton of bricks as her brain forced her to recall the way they had just... buried her alive. She felt horrible. She hadn’t directly spoken out against Justine, but she’d still voted for her… and helped…

She couldn’t do anything but walk over and greet Justine with a tight hug.

“I am so, so, sorry.” Sierra said, trying not to cry. Justine tensed up at first, then gently hugged her back. Sierra felt a wave of relief.

“It’s okay. I mean, I don’t forgive you yet… but it’s okay.” she responded. Even though Sierra was no psychological expert on well, anything,  she could see a glimmer of earnest warmth in her eyes. Of course she wouldn’t forgive her, or GloZell, or anybody (she sure wouldn’t if it had been her in the box) but she wasn’t shunning her, or screaming at her, or acting furious. So it was a good start.

After a moment of comfortable silence, GloZell cleared her throat in a clearly over exaggerated way. No one bothered to comment on this.

“So, now that we got the whole group together, are we gettin’ anywhere on how Sierra here died?”

Andrea and Shane looked at each other. Justine and GloZell looked at them pointedly. Sierra wasn’t exactly sure why, but they seemed to know stuff here, maybe.

“Well, we went to the spirit board-”

“The what?”

“Spirit board. Same one as in the real world, except it shows where dead bodies are and gives clues and stuff.”

Shane explained as if saying it was where he went casually shopping on Fridays.

“Oh.”

“Anyway, the only clue we got was the word ‘exorcism.’ And that’s not helpful, because it still doesn’t explain anything.” Andrea cut in, rolling her eyes in clear frustration.

“What about her smoky thing?” Justine interjected. “Don’t those give some sort of clue?”

“Smoky thing? Hon, you have got to work on how you describe things. If you said that in front of Tim or somethin’ he’d think it was drugs or maybe even worse. You never know what’s in his vocabulary.” GloZell said, folding her arms as if to make her point even more precise.

Justine chuckled a little bit, but out of the corner of her eye, Sierra could see Andrea’s laser focus avert to the floor. Sierra wasn’t sure why. That comment about Tim had been pretty true.

“ Anyway,” Shane said, clearly trying to revert back to the topic of ‘smoky things’, “I don’t think her aura’s going to help. It’s just a… what even is it?”

“Oh, so you get to make up the names now.” GloZell muttered offhand.

“It’s a rosary. I think.” Sierra said shakily. She had been trying to ignore the flashlight around her neck. It wasn’t working. Stupid flashlight necklace aura whatever-the-hell-it-was.

“That still ain’t  helpful!” GloZell threw up her hands. “I say we just ignore it for now, and then interrogate whoever gets here next,” She threw a fist into her open palm to exaggerate. “I call bad cop.”

“I guess there’ nothing else we can do for now.” Justine spoke up. “Sorry, Sierra.”

“It’s okay. We’ll find out. Hopefully… no, wait, do we want that?”

“No. Not really.” Andrea said.

“Well, then, um… let’s hope some obscure clue shows up and we solve it and then get a full, helpful essay detailing why exactly I’m dead?”

“Let’s go with that.”

“Okay, so let’s move on to other things. This is like a group meeting, for a council!" He said, going off on a completely random tangent. "We should get, like, a gavel in here. Were there gavels in the 1920s?” Shane asked, surveying the room.

No one offered a response.

“Nevermind then,” Shane grumbled. “Let’s go over and unlock your doors. Handles. Things.”

“Who’s?”

“Yours and Sierra’s, duh.” Justine said, following Shane out of the lounge.

“Then, you two-” Andrea said, pointing at GloZell and Sierra respectively- “can give us a little relay on what the hell is going on. We haven’t had dead storytime since Justine got here.”

“Oh, um. Yay.” Sierra said nervously. She stuck near GloZell. Just in case.

__________________________

Several shenanigans later, Sierra cranked down her part of the second handle. It was right at the top, parallel to Shane’s. She watched as a symbol flashed to life on the carving, shimmering lazily with silver light. It was a tiny, adorable little crown. Over on the other side, the four parts of the handle had all been pushed. Justine had a  playing card, more specifically the ace of spades. GloZell had a tiny, 1920s-esque microphone. She’d burst into a little solo when she saw it. There had been much kerfuffle about the fact that the door should be able to open, now that one side was fully pushed down and not locked to the other handle. Apparently, logic didn’t agree. Sierra had watched as the four of them (okay, the GloZell of them) had spent about twenty minutes trying to yank open the door. Sierra had thought that it was going to break open, if not because she was pulling so persistently that it was going to come clean off its hinges. Eventually, she’d given up. But even now she glared at the door as if to say; You and me. We ain’t done yet.

Sierra traced her finger along the tiny crown for a moment before standing up.

“Well, that’s done.”

“Yeah. Can we go eat something?” asked Shane, randomly.

“Does that work in this world?” Justine asked curiously.

“Why would it not work in this world?”

“Point.”

“Yeah, I am kind of starving. I haven’t had anything since dinner, and that seems like forever ago.” GloZell said. She wasn’t wrong. The pleasant evening they’d had seemed like a distant heaven.

“The plates are all still fully stocked.”

“Again, why?” Andrea interjected.

“I don’t know? Why is  the greenhouse full of nice veggies?”

“Maybe it was nice, because it knows I’m a vegetarian.”

“Then maybe it’s nice because it knows that my love for food transcends time and space.”

Sierra snickered. It was true.

“Fair point. C’mon, let’s eat something while you two give us an update.”

And so, their merry little group took seats at the dining table, which was fully stocked with food, true to Shane’s word. So as he gouged down on the perfectly cooked chicken and the breadsticks, Andrea absent-mindedly munched on the salad, and Justine drank some water while having the occasional spoonful of mashed potato, Sierra and GloZell took up the story.

Sierra felt obligated to let GloZell explain what happened with the mannequins. Also, she didn’t want to talk about them if she didn’t have to. Besides, she wasn’t there for half of it.

So GloZell relayed Oli hulking out and destroying the box, the clock puzzle, the keyhole (Sierra offhandedly mentioned her going off with Tim to find the car at that point. GloZell was clearly unimpressed that they’d given no mention of this to the rest of the group) the secret dining room filled with mannequins (everyone was horrified by this) the Calvin dude, finding a toe in the pie, a note in a lady mannequin’s chest (Shane spat out his water), taking off the wigs, and then finding the photo of the family the mannequins were based on. Sierra took up the story there, loosely describing her and Tim’s wonderful adventure in the creepy car and then finding the missing mannequin. Maneuvering the mannequins, perverse games, Joey being voted in with Lele, and GloZell’s eventual death at Joey’s own hand.

“What happened with the perverse games?” asked Shane, with an equally perverse smile on his face.

“We’ll never know. So don’t ask.”

Shane looked disappointed.

Sierra continued on, describing the guardian, the terrifying game of find-the-code-before-you-die, the music box, the circus, Tim and (surprise) Oli being voted in, lots of terror, and the whole death-by-piranha thing being a big joke. When she got to the ritual and it not working however, she was interrupted.

“What do you mean, the ritual didn’t work?” Shane asked, completely serious. Justine and Andrea both looked at him, obviously confused.

“It just… didn’t. Some priest in the basement said we needed to free five former owners of the house in order for the evil to lose its power. Then the ritual would work.”

“My ritual was hand-picked by the heads of the Society Against Evil, and they’ve been in the business for god-knows how long.” Shane said, leaning forward. “No way it wouldn’t work. Did you take the ritual out of my pocket yourselves?”

“No, Arthur the butler gave it to us after we set down the last artifact.” Everyone gasped. Sierra wasn’t totally sure why. She’d always found the staff to be a bit weird, yes, but still somewhat helpful.

“That’s it.”  Justine interjected, her blue eyes fearful. “He and the rest of the staff are the traitors.” Andrea bit her lip.

Sierra’s jaw fell open. No. Their work could not have been for nothing!

“So… what are you saying? Did he tamper with the directions or something?”

“No way. That parchment is a thousand years old, it’s imprinted there forever. You guys must have done the wrong one.” Shane said in disbelief.

“What? So, do we need to free the owners or not?” she asked, desperately hoping she had died for something.

“Well… I think it would be a lo t less risky to do the ritual with the sources of power gone  … but no, I don’t think so. If you had someone strong enough binding the cord, it would work out fine.” Shane said helplessly.

“So our friends are going on another wild goose chase for absolutely nothing and we can’t even warn them?” Justine screeched. She slammed her hands down on the table, shaking wine glasses. Her eyes were wide and disbelieving. Next to her, Andrea shook her head, as if in denial.

Shane bit his lip and nodded, followed by a chorus of frustrated yells and protests against how flipping unfair this was.

Sierra had died for nothing.

More of her friends were going to die for nothing.

And they couldn’t do anything in warning.

Sierra just felt hollow. They’d been tricked so easily. Why had they even trusted the staff in the first place? They were working for the house, too. She felt like such an idiot. An even bigger idiot, now that her information was completely useless. After a while, maybe a few minutes, everyone seemed to have gone silent. There wasn’t much else left to say. They weren’t good for information anymore. As far as they knew, there was absolutely no link to the outside world around this place. And their friends were on another long, perverted scavenger hunt, to find clues, find owners, find various little trinkets, and still fighting for their lives…  and they were doing it all for nothing. The artifacts at least had had a purpose. All Sierra could do was, despite her own experiences, pray. She wanted Lele to make it out of there. Her best friend, her only friend in that dumb place… she deserved to make it out alive. She was smart. Strong.

She knew they were all thinking about the same thing she was. The person they cared about who was still up there, fighting. Justine had her face in her palms. Andrea put a comforting arm around her shoulders, but her dark brown eyes were scared and unsure. GloZell just stared at her plate. Shane did almost the same thing.

After this long moment, Shane finally broke the tension.

“We all know this… sucks. A lot. But we can’t do anything now except wait. Maybe they can still figure out that Arthur lied. And I know we can’t change anything now, but I think it’s best that we just… move along with the story. And wait. And hope.”

Sierra half-expected a protest. From GloZell, or Justine maybe. But everyone remained relatively silent. There were just a few incoherent murmurs of agreement from everyone.

“Sierra?” Justine asked, taking a shaky breath. Sierra knew they were waiting for her to continue the story. So she did.

She slowly recounted the black box in the fireplace. The priest, trapped in a circle of protection and in need of his cross, to restore his faith. Him telling the group that they had to perform an exorcism, and to get holy water and a rosary. The overly complicated process to get said holy water. The voting process, and Matt volunteering himself (and then going back on it, which kind of disgusted everyone at the table). The prayer, and the terrifying process of seeing Matt scramble around doing the ritual. And then, her voice trailed off. She didn’t remember anything after that.

“And… that’s it.” She said, with a delicate shrug.”I don’t remember anything that happened after that.”

Everyone was just… silent. None of them really knew what to do or say. GloZell offered her a smile.

“So… what now?” Justine asked, looking around at everyone at the table. No one offered her a response.

Well, nobody human.

All of a sudden, the loud clanging of what sounded like the bell of a clock shook everything in the house. Sierra let out a yelp and covered her ears, closing her eyes and waiting for the end of the world.

This never actually happened.

“We could at least have some WARNIN’ next time, thank you very MUCH!” GloZell screamed at the sky. The sky remained unresponsive, shockingly.

“Why does this always happen right when we ask? Like, I didn’t want a response.” muttered Justine.

“Because why not.” muttered Andrea, holding her face up with one hand.

“What does that mean?” Sierra chittered, looking around anxiously. “A-are we in trouble, or something?”

“Not exactly.” Shane said with a shrug. “It just means that someone new is here.”

“Oh.” Sierra said, slumping against her chair. She wasn't sure how to take the news. “So… what do we do?”

“We ask more dead people where the dead person is.” Andrea said, getting up out of her chair. “Time to pay a visit to our spirit board friend.”

So they did. On the way, GloZell explained to Sierra how the spirit board worked, so she wasn’t too surprised when it erupted with golden light upon response to an incantation Andrea read. They crowded around it, looking  at the small symbol on the upper left. It was a creepy doll, in fully-drawn detail. Behind it was an inky silhouette, of something that looked like a mermaid. Then, letters flashed in a pattern, just as they had in the real world. They spelled out P-O-I-S-O-N . Poison. Again. Yay .

All Shane had to say about it was an incoherent grumble.

“Stupid dead person ripped off my death.”

Nobody really said anything.

Sierra couldn’t shake the feeling that she knew exactly who it was. And that was why she told the group that she wanted to go it alone. She wanted answers, no matter who they were from. And she just felt like the rest of them needed a break. Especially Shane and Andrea. They’d been running around for like, four hours.

“Are you sure, honey?” GloZell murmured anxiously. “No one’s saying you gotta do this alone.”

“I want to.” Sierra replied, trying to sound braver than she actually was. “I’ll be okay.”

Before anyone could protest further, she made her way up the staircase. It felt like a rock of dread was implanted in her stomach. But still, she pressed on, up three sets of stairs, around a few corridors… until she finally reached one door that was slightly ajar, spilling light onto the darkened hallway. She cautiously peered through, and nearly screamed at the sight. Inside were a bunch of creepy dolls, crowding the couch, the shelves, the tables, and spilled out around the floor. There were two dollhouses, on two different tables. One was intact, and perfectly neat. The other was broken, crash-landed onto the ground. The fine wood that had created it was splintered, and bent. The roof had fallen off. Sierra took a moment to observe the freak-show before her eyes landed on the dead body. She covered her mouth with her hands, but in truth she wasn’t shocked. Not really.

Matt Hang lay on the couch, a drained vial clenched in his hand.

Chapter Text

Matt hadn’t wanted to believe it, but at the same time he had.

In the moment that he found out he’d picked the wrong vial, it burnt like hell… searing his throat, feeling like he was choking up vat of nitric acid, making his head spin like he was on a tilt-a-whirl...but, in a way, he was relieved. He had accepted death as a blessing rather than a curse. In retrospect, being alive wouldn’t improve or change anything in his world.

Being alive wouldn’t change the fact that Lele Pons hated his guts.

Being alive wouldn’t change Eva’s burning hatred.

Being alive wouldn’t change Joey and Oli’s mutual mistrust and bitterness.

Being alive would mean that Tim was gone. He didn’t deserve that. Matt did.

No matter if he survived the challenge. With Tim gone, he would’ve been fresh out of allies. It would only be a short matter of time before death came for him. The others would keep writing his name on the slips until the job was done.

If he comes back alive, we’re gonna kill him.

I’m telling you, Matt’s a psychopath.

Matt had given up after Sierra’s death. Well and truly given up on everything that had motivated him to fight in the first place. Of all that had happened… the blood, the misery, the madness… directly killing a terrified girl had broken him like one of those deformed dolls that had been in the challenge. Sure, he hadn’t known what he was doing. Had he known the choice he could have made, he doubted that he could have decided on what to do in the very few moments he had then. Could he truly sacrifice himself for Sierra? He didn’t know, but in a way he knew it would make things harder. And if he’d actively known he was killing Sierra, he would have truly been a murderer. Not that he wasn’t, but his guilt would have been even stronger if he’d known his choice. At the same time, he felt stupid and pathetic for killing a girl thanks to his slip-up, his mistake.

Matt was a shell. A burnt-out husk. The others had all viciously turned on him, but he felt no bitterness. He didn’t feel anything except a small ache. A small ache that clouded his thoughts, burnt his conscience, and filled his ears with nothing but overwhelming, dizzying, horrifying quiet. It was a relief to go. He’d see his dead relatives again. He’d escape from the fresh hell in the real world.  The others still had fire. His had fizzled into a pile of charred ashes. He’d felt some determination to stay alive in the final challenge, but that was gone now, too. He’d died along with Sierra.

And yet, just after that moment of relief came a rush of consciousness. He could tell he was awake, he could feel the low rise and fall of his chest. He felt a vile taste in his mouth and the rough texture of the couch. He saw black, but he knew it was just because his eyes were closed. But he didn’t want to believe he was awake. He didn’t want to be.

It’ll work. The poison is just kicking in. It’s just going slower. I’m gonna go. I’m gonna go…

Matt lay there, eyes closed, waiting for something that wasn’t coming. He knew he could open his eyes, but he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to do or feel anything anymore. He just wanted to float away and cease to exist. It’d be more peaceful than living in his own body. But nothing changed. So there he waited, hoping that the house around him would fade away.

He heard footsteps.

Probably Tim or Eva or something. No, it’s Lele coming in to draw a moustache and a black eye on my dead body, then she and Eva will  throw it in the pool. They’ll have a good laugh about that.

A gasp.

Probably just shocked at the fact I knocked over the dumb dollhouse.

Someone moved in closer.

Just ignore them. The poison’ll work  soon.

“Matt… Matt, wake up.”

His immediate thought was: Well, this person is stupid, they should know that I’m not waking up.

Then it hit him that the voice was one he knew far too well.

Saint Michael, the archangel!

No.

Matt, hurry!

Anyone but her.

Be our protection from the wickedness….

He had never wanted to hear that voice again.

“Matt, I know you’re in there… Wake up.”

Against everything his heart, his mind, his very core told him, Matt opened his eyes. Then he gaped and somehow flailed off the couch, landing on the floor. He didn’t even notice the pain. He didn’t even care that this meant he had entered some alternate dead reality, that the poison really had worked.

Sierra’s face looked almost angelic, serene and somewhat calm, thought her eyes flickered with some sort of disjointed anxiety. Her neck glowed a beautiful white. It was so far away from what she’d looked like when she died. Matt still remember the panic racing in her eyes, the shrill way her voice cracked when she said her prayers, the way she’d been shivering like a leaf looking up at him as he threw the rosary onto her head without a thought.

Matt had seen a doll that looked like her in the final challenge. He’d thrown it behind the couch, not wanting to look at it and be reminded of the guilt he still felt churning like a storm in his stomach. Being faced with her, the real her… It was like a reminder of everything he’d done wrong and all the mistakes he’d made.

He thought seeing her would make him cry. But no, just a single tear made its slow journey down his cheek. He felt numb, cold, desolate.

Sierra was the embodiment of  his turning point from a determined, but morally ambiguous person into a monster. He’d been stupid. He’d killed her in cold blood.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t even remembered Sierra, that she was standing above him. Concerned. He didn’t deserve her concern. He didn’t deserve to feel anything but misery.

“Matt, you’re crying… why are you crying?” She knelt next to him.

She sounded genuinely confused. Of course she did, she had no idea that he’d killed her. Matt wanted to choke up the words, to deny everything, to forget about all he knew and leave Sierra behind.

But that wasn’t an option.

“It’s my fault.”His tongue felt like it was made of lead.

“W-what’s your fault, what are you talking about?”

“I’m so sorry…”

“Matt, what for?”

He didn’t respond, just stared at his feet.

“Matt, please. You’re scaring me.”

Suddenly he felt like he was inhaling poison again. Another vat of acid.

“Matt.”

He swallowed it down.

“It’s my fault you’re here.”

His voice was so… hollow.  So broken he even scared himself a bit. Sierra seemed to jolt from his words. She stepped back, the cautious anxiety in her eyes being replaced with a strange, panicked, familiar look. She was silent for a moment.

“What?”

“I- I… In the exorcism, I was in a rush to get it done so we could get out. I only read the first part of the last instruction… it said to put the roary on your head.” He swallowed. “After.. After it was over, I read the full thing… it said that either I would have to kill myself, or I could kill you. I did it wrong. It’s my fault… I’m sorry, Sierra, I did this wrong…”

Matt’s voice broke. It was the most he’d spoken in far too long, and only when he reached the end of the phrase did he realize he was repeating his own mantra, the words he had spoken to Sierra’s cold, dead body lying faceup on the bed.

His mind wrenched him back again, to the moment where he’d gone upstairs to face his companions.

Joey’s conflicted gaze.

Lele’s burning, sparking, undying hatred.

Eva’s skepticism.

Oli’s shock and confusion.

Tim’s face, switching between confusion to shock to judgement to sympathy.

He could’ve very well lied. Nobody would’ve known, it’d just be Matt Haag who won the challenge, Sierra’s dead, not his fault he was only trying to survive. Like anyone would have gone down to deeply analyze the dead body and the note to call him out on it. Well, Lele might, but Matt doubted even she could withstand seeing her friend’s body lying lifelessly on the bed.

But he didn’t want to damage his conscience even more than he already had. He didn’t have the spirit or the energy to lie. So he told them the truth, the pitiful, stupid truth. They didn’t believe it. He could see that Lele was convinced he was the evil, purposefully killing Sierra in order to rid himself of another pawn in the way of his game. He could see that Joey, Eva, and Oli saw him as a coward unwilling to sacrifice himself and an even bigger coward for lying about it. As for Tim… he didn’t know. Tim covered up his emotions with dumb jokes or stotic seriousness. It was what he’d done when Andrea died. Matt still remembered the stone-cold look in his eyes as he looked for clues.

He’d started to express his hopelessness to his friends, stopped helping. He couldn’t work away the pain anymore. Whenever he tried for clues Sierra’s frightened cries echoed in his head and he’d freeze again. That’s when Eva had truly exploded at him. He knew well enough she didn’t condone a useless player. She’d done that with Andrea, and, as Tim had told him in private  when they were looking for clues, with Sierra. He’d at least had the group’s respect before. Now he’d lost that, too.

There were a million things he could have said to them that might’ve changed things.

I’m so sorry…

I won’t give up. Not now.

I’m shaken, but I’m gonna keep going.

He couldn’t choke out those words.

Sierra shook him out of his cold vortex of bleak memories. Her hand left his shoulder as soon as he came back to the present.

“Matt, are you… are you with me?”

He could tell she was going to say “are you okay?” but clearly she could recognize he was not.

“You were just staring at the wall...”

“I- I’m not all here, Sierra.” was all he could manage.

“Oh.” her voice was small and unsure.

“Sierra, I…”

“What would you have done,” she asked him, suddenly turning. She wasn’t crying, but her eyes were definitely glossy. “If you’d known about your choice? Would you have…”

She trailed off, but Matt knew what she was saying. He choked out an answer.

“I- I don’t know. Really, I don’t.”

She nodded bleakly.

“I don’t know what I would have done either,” she said shakily, wiping a tear from her eye. “If it were me. I might’ve been too scared to do it. I guess it might have been easier, not having the choice to make. Some guilt off your conscience.”

Matt could tell she was thinking aloud, trying to find a way to put herself in his shoes, in his thoughts.

“Maybe.” he murmured back.

“What did the others say?”

“I gave up. Yelled at me a lot. Didn’t trust me. Voted me in.” he said absently. His voice still had the broken numbness that reminded him of a shattered mirror.

“Matt.”

He barely heard her over the thumping in his ears.

“Matt.”

More intently now.

“MATT.” She gripped his shoulders, looking at him with a fierceness he didn’t know someone like Sierra Furtado could even have.

“Look, you need to wake up, okay? I… I don’t know how I feel about what happened, but Matt you made a mistake. You were scared, and I was, too. All I know is that you need to come back to the real world. You’re spiralling into god-knows-where and you need to move on and accept that the night is over for you, hear me? It’s OVER. No more madness. And more people are going to come here, but you have to somehow move on, do you hear me? I can’t let you stay like this, and you can’t let you stay like this either.”

She spoke with so much passion, intensity that he would only see in someone like Lele. Sierra seemed like the last person who was going to say something like that to him, but it certainly had an effect. He realized that at first she’d felt awkward, hadn’t known what to say. Then she knew the importance of bringing him back to reality.

Matt felt the numbness starting to subside. And emotion started to trickle through cracks, cracks in the walls of the prison his mind had made up. He realized that emotion was something that he’d let go of and repressed even before Sierra’s death, they all had. It was only to move on and get going with the task. However,  after that was when other things started to fade. Happiness. Laughter. Pride. Hope.

And like a dam bursting, he started to cry freely, letting loose the raw pain he had been ignoring all this time. His shoulders shook as he slumped up against the frame of the couch, sobbing gently.

He started to feel… better. Emotional release was something he’d held back, and now he didn’t have to. He wanted to give Sierra a hug, but for now her comforting hand resting gently on his shoulder was enough for him.

They had nothing to wait for, no time limit. No task that had to be done at the break of day. So there they sat for who knows how long, slumped against the couch. For one brief moment, their eyes met. Sierra gave him a cautious smile.

Matt gave her a shaky one in return.

Chapter Text

Quiet.

Matt had forgotten what it was like to live in a quiet, pleasant moment.

Oh, sure. When he was alive the night had been chock full of quiet moments...after Justine died, after Shane died, when something especially traumatic happened in a world of trauma. But even then, there had been undertones. He could see anxiety on the faces of some, stotic seriousness or firm anger on others. There was always a sense of what now? What do we do? Was this a mistake? Will I make it out? Which one’s going next? I have to keep (insert your best friend or crush or whatever here) alive...

At the same time, the quiet only Matt felt after Sierra’s death had been heartcrushing, numb, cold as ice. The quiet had filled his ears until the voices around him seemed like washed-out cries, distant memories. The only thing he could hear clearly then were Sierra’s last words, frightened and scared, repeating again and again inside his mind. He’d barely be able to come up with a response to something he was told or asked, mostly Tim talking to him or Eva shouting or somebody trying to bring Matt back to some form of reality.

Now, simply sitting with Sierra against the couch, feeling the last few tears fall from his eyes…  it felt like a comfortable quiet. The sort of quiet that comes when the rest of the world falls away and you just have a moment to think and feel.  He thought about Tim, of course. Tim had been his best friend in the house, this little spark of comfort that made him laugh, the only one that hadn’t raised his hand when Eva petitioned for his death, the only one that had given him respect when he didn’t deserve that luxury. He prayed right then and there that Tim would play his cards right and make it out of there alive. He’d lost Andrea, dealt with a ton of bullshit, had to watch Matt’s death, nearly died himself on multiple occasions, and deal with dumb accusations based on a part he was meant to act. He deserved it, Matt thought. Then again, he knew that luck ran very low in that house. Everyone’s best friend dropped like a fly. The least deserving people got voted in. The people who deserved death stayed alive. The missions didn’t end at four artifacts and four deaths.

And Lele was still alive and kicking.

Matt doubted he could ever forget Lele if she made it out and he stayed in the afterlife without her. She was unforgettable, whether that be a good or bad thing. The moment they’d crossed paths, they were enemies. He thought she was obnoxious, problematic, and bossy. She thought he was bipolar, cocky, and a know-it-all. It was a match made in hell, if he thought about it. They were similar, in ways that would work out well in some scenarios but in this case, didn’t. They were both stubborn, both strong-willed and intent on pushing people if needed. Their similarities clashed like a cymbal… and the resounding white noise affected everybody around. In retrospect, it was probably hard for the others to come to a conclusion while they were loudly petitioning each other for death challenges. He wondered how he felt about what fate would befall her. On one hand, he didn’t want her to make it out because, well, he didn’t want her to. On the other, he didn’t want to deal with her in the afterlife forever.

He decided to stop thinking about his friends (well, his one friend, two enemies, and two undecideds) still out there and let his mind draw at a blank for once. He relaxed.

He could tell that this was the sort of thing Sierra needed, too. She was sitting next to him, hugging her knees to her chest. Her eyes were looking at almost nothing, but her breathing was steady. Neither of them said anything, neither wanting to ruin the moment. It was like being drenched with cold water after spending days in the Sahara desert (technically, you would die if that happened but, hey). It felt like something rare that would only come around for a minute, then he realized moments like these would happen forever now. Whatever forever meant now that he was… dead.

Either way, the moment was like being wrapped in the softest blanket imaginable. Warm, comforting.

So then, as per law, it got ruined immediately.

Sierra practically fell onto Matt with a frightened little shriek as the resounding toll of a giant clock like Big Ben or something echoed around them. It felt like the floor shook with the impact. Matt could also hear lots of kerfuffle from downstairs, as he presumed the other dead people (he swallowed a lump in his throat as he thought of that) had also heard it and now were going crazy or something. By the time he’d collected his thoughts, Sierra had picked herself up. Matt noticed she was biting her lip, as if… as if something were happening that she knew of but didn’t want to talk about.

“Sierra.” Matt began, trying to prevent his voice from shaking, “What’s going on?”

She didn’t say anything.

“Sierra, come on. It’s okay.”

“It means… It means someone’s just died.” she said quietly, wringing her hands. “The others should be finding the body right now.”

“Wait, what happens? How does the body get here?”

“It just… appears.” she said, clearly hopeless as to a proper explanation. “Like, I just found you upstairs, and I guess sometimes we need to wake the person up? I.. I don’t know.” she said, throwing her hands up in the air a bit. Matt knew this probably wasn’t true, as he’d been awake long before Sierra had shown up.

“So we need to go, then.” Matt started to stand up, fully intending to get back on the job.

“Wait, Matt. Are you sure you’re up for this? I mean, you were barely capable of like, forming a sentence five minutes ago, and now if you’re going to see someone who just died…” Sierra trailed off, biting her lip. She put a hand on his shoulder.

Matt’s eyes averted. As much as he wanted to say he was okay, he knew Sierra held a point. He probably wouldn’t feel anything if it were someone like Oli or Joey. He didn’t think Eva deserved to die, no matter how she’d treated him, but he wouldn’t feel too shaken, more shocked. He had zero clue how he’d feel about Lele, but if it were Tim...

Sierra clumsily stood up, too. She looked unsettled rather than scared. Maybe some concern darted across her face as well, but she was uncharacteristically hard to read.

He took a deep breath. He knew that he wasn’t in a good place at the moment. Like hell any of them were, unless they were devoid of any emotion, which clearly they weren’t. Sierra was right, a minute ago he’d been a shell of what he was in the beginning. He knew he still wasn’t really at that high point, he might not even be halfway there. But still, he also knew he couldn’t sit here forever. He needed time, but he wanted to get out of this room, start his recovery through actions rather than hiding himself away from the inevitable. He turned to her with a deep breath.

“Look, Sierra, thanks for worrying about me. I know I… probably don’t deserve it, but still. Thanks for the concern. I just… have to start being a person again, you know? And I can’t do it here.”

Matt phrased it as best he could. He’d never been fantastic with words, but Sierra seemed to get it. She let out a little sigh or a puff of air, and put on her brave face.

“You have smoke coming out of your mouth.” she said, then realized what she said was the most random thing possible, and let out a cough. Then she laughed. Awkwardly, but laughed.

“You have a glowing necklace.” Matt responded. He somehow hadn’t noticed, but her neck was lit up like a Christmas tree. She smiled. Cue awkward pause.

“Well, uhm, so you're sure that you’re ready?”

“No. But it’s better than nothing.”

“Let’s go then, I guess.”

Matt regarded her for a minute. He could tell she was trying to be tough and stick it out through the deaths that were to come, which admired, in a way. Looking at her, he still remembered the girl he’d killed in the basement. They’d both been broken, in a way.

They headed out of the room and downstairs, during which Matt marveled at the fact that it looked exactly the same as it had in the real world. In hindsight, he should have expected that, but oh well.

Just as they were heading down the stairs, Matt came to a realization.

“How exactly are we going to find them? They must’ve left already.”

“Right, oh... “ Sierra looked like she was trying to remember something.”We have to go to the spirit board. It shows where the dead body is.”

“The spirit board survived?”

Sierra shrugged in response.

Together they went down to the room, where they (Sierra) spent about five minutes trying to remember the incantation before Matt realized saw a piece of paper right next to the board.

“Greetings, spirits. Show us the life that has been lost at this hour?” he read aloud, confused. Then the thing lit up with absolutely no warning. Matt jumped, and Sierra stumbled with a little eep noise.

After getting over the jump-scare, Matt analyzed the holographic image the board projected. Different symbols were scattered around it, presumably representing each death. He had no idea what he was meant to be looking for until Sierra piped up next to him, pointing out one of the symbols spinning (actually, it was the only one spinning) in an area labelled Pool Pavillion. Matt took a second to map out where that was (based on what he knew of the house’s structure) and then it vanished. He was about to head out before Sierra tugged on his jacket sleeve.

“Look.”

Just as they had in the real world, the spirit board’s letters lit up, one right after another. He spelled it out internally.

R-O-U-L-E-T-T-E.

“Wait, what? Isn’t that like, a gambling game?” Sierra asked, confused.

“Yeah.” Matt nodded. “It must’ve been like, a challenge of chance or something."

“That’s awful. Totally unfair.” murmured Sierra. Matt figured she would’ve said ‘it’s awful having no real control over your death’ if it hadn’t been a such a touchy subject.

“None of this is fair.” murmured Matt. “Let’s just go..”

“Yeah.”

Together they headed out, walking to the pool and Matt leading the way to the pavillion based on what he saw in the projection. Sierra helpfully dragged along behind him. Neither of them said much other than ‘is this the right way’ and ‘yeah.’

Eventually, through the trees, Matt saw a glimmering white coat. Justine. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to quicken or slowen his pace, so he just kept walking at the same speed. He prayed that it wasn’t the one person he wanted alive who had gone through death’s door.

They eventually reached the pavillion, which was gleaming white with glass double doors. There was one single chair outside it, which was occupied by Justine, looking apprehensive and worried. Shane was standing a little ways off, arms folded, eyebrows creased. GloZell was near the doorway, with no sort of facial expression…

Someone was missing.

And in the room, he could hear muffled sobbing.

Andrea.

Andrea was in the pavillion, crying over the most recent death. Who on earth would Andrea be crying about? Matt doubted she cared about Joey or Oli, and no way would she cry over Lele’s death or Eva’s especially, seeing as she was partially responsible for her death.

Wait.

Hadn’t Andrea been friends with-

No.

It can’t be.

Why him?

The world started to slow down to a crawl. Matt ran to the pavillion, ignoring Sierra’s confused call and attempt to pull him back, ignoring Justine, GloZell, and Shane’s surprised looks, rushed consolations, and greeting attempts. He skidded to a halt in the doorway, saw the dead body, and stopped dead, his breath coming out ragged and shocked.

Andrea was on her knees near a table her face in her hands, muttering to herself. She must have heard him come in, because she looked up. Her brown eyes were glossy with tears.

And on the table?

Matt nearly crumpled against the wall as he saw Timothy, his only friend in the house, the light that kept people laughing, the person who deserved to make it out, slumped against the table, a small red circle oozing smoke in the side of his head. His face was shadowed by an open briefcase in front of him.

But the worst part…

The worst part was the the gun that had so clearly ended his friend’s life was clearly visible.

In Tim’s hand.

Timothy DeLaghetto had shot himself.

Chapter Text

Straight-up?

Tim felt like he was having a hangover.

Mostly because he had the biggest headache ever, and he felt like completely dizzy and sick, like he’d gone on a tilt-a-whirl and then decided: hey, let’s be a total boss and go on it another ten times!

Maybe he had been drinking the entire time.

Maybe the whole night had been one traumatizing drunken fever dream. That would be nice. He might need some serious therapy, though. Still, maybe he would wake up, in a random restaurant, a club, or maybe even in his own bed at home. Maybe he could see his girlfriend, feed his cat, then call up Andrea. Or Matt. Or any of his friends. But maybe he would wake up very much alive, and the whole thing would’ve just been a bad dream.

There were lots of maybes, maybes he desperately wanted to come true, because reality was.. .well, shitty.

He heard noises.

Sniffling. Crying.

He blinked a couple times. Blurry images flashed before his eyes.

With a sinking feeling, he realized that he remembered everything. Far too intently to be a dream, or a delusion.

Eva and him, voted in.

Russian Roulette. Battleship. Whatever one.

“G-6”

He remembered the cold metal of the gun as he raised it to his own head. Even more, he remembered the clink and the wave of relief when no bullet shot its way though his skull.

The continuous calling of letters and numbers, each being said with an aura of fear, trepidation.

“H-3”

“... Hit.”

He remembered thinking he might have a shot at life. He didn’t want to lose Eva, of course not, but wasn’t this the game? Escape with your life, even if it kills another person? Just keep running and running as others are shot down around you and maybe you’ll make it out?

And then all his thoughts, all his attempts to trick himself into believing it would be okay screeched to a halt.

Eva held the gun between her curls. Tim could tell she was struggling not to cry.

In that moment, she wasn’t the Journalist, or the smartest one in the house, or a strong, unstoppable force who could decode any clue that came her way. She was just… afraid. A Youtuber who had been dragged into a situation the she didn’t deserve.

Her hand trembled as she held the gun up to her own head.

She stared right at him. It almost felt like she was pleading.

The tortured look in her eyes… that might just be a look that would stay with him forever. And then she closed them, shaking, and then... nothing.

In that one short moment, when Eva dropped the gun onto the table, letting out shaking sighs of relief, he remembered Andrea, remembered Sierra, remembered Matt, all of them.

I would rather die than have to watch her shoot herself in the head.

In that moment, he made his choice.

Sorry, guys.

“H-8.”

“Hit.” He said, not even looking at the board. Could Eva tell? He wasn’t sure.

He picked up the gun, clutching it still for just a moment. His hands weren’t even shaking.

He held the gun up to his head, saying his last goodbyes to the people back home floating around in his head.

He screwed his face up tight.

He knew there was no guarantee that the bullet was in there.

He didn’t care.

…

And he shot back into the present.

He sat straight up in his chair with a loud yelp.

He looked around, panicky. Well, looked left and right a couple of times, not really taking in the scenery. His eyes immediately darted to the battleship board.

It was positioned the exact same way it had been when he last looked at it.

Weird. Why am I still here? Shouldn’t I be in heaven with God and all the cool people?

He realized he was still holding the gun. He dropped it, and it loudly clattered on the table.

“Tim…” he heard someone beneath him say. He jumped a bit at the sound, mostly because he’d been lost in thought but partially because he would recognize that voice almost anywhere, any place, or any time.

He looked just a few inches down, and immediately broke out into a huge smile. It was her. His best friend. She was curled up on the ground, just a couple feet beside him. She looked almost identical from when he’d last seen her. Her hair was a little messier, but she was still wearing the dark robe, and the pants, and… wow, it was good to see her again.

“Andrea, oh my god.”

He remembered how scared they both were when she was voted in. How they’d stuck by each other’s side until Andrea was…

He tried not to think about it.

And all at once, he realized how much he’d missed her, and how much those feelings were lost in a torrential flood of emotions that came with people he knew and liked in varying degrees dying every hour, sometimes right in front of his eyes. And none of the deaths had come close to hurting as much as Andrea’s. Years of late-night phone calls, collabs, inside jokes, ridiculous laughter, and happiness came flooding back to him all at once.  Seeing his best friend- he remembered almost hearing his heart shatter in his chest when he saw Justine’s pure white mink-coat instead of Andrea’s floaty, dark mistress-y attire. He almost- almost started to happy-cry as he pulled her into a tight hug.

“I.. I can’t believe this,” she said shakily.

“Man, me neither. It’s probably the best thing ever that I get to see you again.”

“Tim…”

“I mean, seriously, you're my best friend , even if I did make it out of that hellhole I honestly don’t think any amount of alcohol would help me get over-”

“Tim, you died.”

She pulled away. Tim saw her face again for the first time, and she looked shocked, tired, and upset.

“Yeah, I know.”

“You… you’re dead right now.”

“I know, It’s okay-”

“It’s not okay, Tim, just- you were lying there, with a bloody wound , and a gun , with some battleship game and you have no idea how scared I was that you were going to die and now you’re dead, what… what part of this is okay?”

After wiping away a stray tear, she folded her arms and looked to the cold marble floor, obviously trying to hold in sobs.

“Andrea,” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him, with her unintentional puppy-dog eyes.  “It’s honestly okay. Even if I had to leave the real world behind, I… it just wouldn’t be the same without you. Seriously, I don’t wanna live with that kind of burden, and I don't wanna have to go through deleting your number off my contacts or seeing my photos of you and knowing that you’re not there. That shit’s depressing as hell.”

She cracked a very strained-looking smile.

“I probably wouldn’t stop missing you either. I don’t have any photos or anything, but, y’know… I’d remember you. And, I mean, I don’t know if this”- she gestured around vaguely-  “is where I’m going to be staying forever, like, eternity,  but…”

“Would eternity without me suck?” He elbowed her.

“Eternity without you… would definitely suck,” she responded.

Dead-ness aside, this is actually kind of cool. Are we ghosts or some shit? Because I totally wanna run around and knock over some important stuff and then the people around will be like ‘ wow, who pushed over that vase? Shit, man, maybe it’s Casper’.”

Andrea cracked a tiny smile and pulled him into another hug. She seemed more into it this time around.

“We’re not gonna be haunting anybody, I hate to tell you,” she muttered. Tim could hear it in her voice that she was happier.

“That’s the only good thing about being dead, though!” She chuckled in response. He grinned.

“I missed you,” she said.

“Hey, I missed you, too. Don’t cry on me, okay?”

“No promises.”

He pretended to look insulted. Then, he realized he couldn't keep up the facade and pulled her into one more hug.

“Uh.. hey.”

A new voice, but not an unfamiliar one. And definitely not an unwelcome one.

“ Matt? Oh my god, you’re here too?”

Matt looked almost the exact same as when Tim had last seen him.

It then occurred to him that the last time he’d seen Matt, he was violently retching up blood and destroying some little girl’s creepy dollhouse.

He didn’t even look the same as before that, because before that Matt looked like a walking corpse- hollow, dry, almost completely absent from any conversation there was. He had given out half-baked, stupid answers to sensibly angry questions and barely helped at all. He sounded like an asshole while saying it because to nearly anyone it would sound like he was just using it as an excuse to be lazy, but Tim could tell his answers were half-rezzed, like an image when the printer runs out of ink. His mind was clearly on Sierra the entire time, right up until his death. Tim had stood and watched as everyone tore into him, but he didn’t feel comfortable with it. He didn’t know what had happened in the basement, obviously, but he’d lost Andrea only a few hours before. Losing people could turn you into someone different. He understood that. Plus, Matt was his friend and had defended him when Lele used the absolutely stupid excuse that the fake role he’d been given to play at the party was any good reason to send him to his death.

The Matt that stood before him now was still pretty similar to Matt, like, an hour before Sierra’s death. He was wearing the exact same clothing, his voice was the same, and he still had the definitive aura of awkward .

But he was standing up straighter. He seemed more attentive, like he actually knew what was going on.

“Dude, it’s good to see you again. You look… better.”

“Should I be offended?”

“Maybe.”

He looked confused.

“I just mean that last time I saw you, you were really... How do I put this without sounding like a jackass…”

“Depressed, not really there, kind of a jerk?” he asked, laughing a bit in the middle of his words. It sounded forced, honestly.

“Your words, not mine, I take no responsibility. But, yeah.”

“Sorry.”

“What are you even apologizing for? You had to perform an exorcism in a basement. I’d have major PTSD.”

“Either way, I was being awful.”

“Yeah, but we were all awful. Except for Oli. Oli was cool.”

“You’ve got a point there.”

They both chuckled. It was actually pretty cool to hear Matt laugh again.

“Hey, so… you okay now?”

“Okay as I’m probably ever gonna be.”

Tim raised an eyebrow.

“That’s uh, good. By the way. I’m good.”

“Cool. Glad to see you’re not depressed again, dude. Depressed you sucked. And I’m never forgiving you for yelling ‘take it off’ when Lele and Joey were stripping so they could dive for those dead bodies and shit.”

“I was really hoping that would be a thing of the past.”

“ Never.”

“Thanks a lot.”

Matt smiled awkwardly, and kind of… held out his hand vaguely, like he didn’t know what to do with it but he wanted to do something with it. Maybe for a handshake, or a high five, or he just felt like holding his hand out weird. Whatever he was doing, Tim pulled him into a hug- a short, but meaningful one. Matt probably needed a hug at that point, because even though he did look a lot better, he still kind of looked like a lost dog someone had kicked.

“I hate to break up this reunion, but two questions.” Andrea interceded after Matt had pulled away. “First of all, hi, Matt. I didn’t know you had died, sorry you died, welcome to the afterlife.”

“Hi, Andrea. We didn’t really know each other, but… I’m sorry you died.”

She gave him a small, confused-looking smile.

“Thanks.”

Okay, first question. What exactly happened that turned Matt into a jerk? And second, why the actual hell were people stripping off to retrieve dead bodies from the pool or whatever?”

Tim and Matt both glanced at each other in a silent lethal battle of ‘you tell her! No, you tell her!’

“It’s a long story.” Matt finally responded.

“I would be semi-annoyed that you used the same response everyone does, but I know from personal experiences that it will be, in fact, a very long story. So you can save it for now.”

“Wait, I also have a question. Is this heaven?” Tim asked.

“What do you mean?” Andrea asked.

“I mean, is this the afterlife for the good people?” He mildly waved his hand around to represent the room they were standing in.

“Is this medium-sized chamber with a table, two battleship boards and a gun the afterlife.”

“That was my question, yes- well now I sound stupid, damn it Andrea.”

“Well, it was a pretty stupid question.”

“Shut up.”

“Okay, well, to answer your question, no, this room is not the afterlife, or at least the whole afterlife.” Matt chimed in. “I think the afterlife is just… the house. But not cursed. Or slightly less cursed. Not really sure at this point.”

“Wait, the house? Like… murder-death-house? Dude, I didn’t die to escape the last house just to come back into it again in the afterlife. That’s bullshit.”

“You’re not wrong,” Andrea replied, “But yeah, apparently the house is the afterlife, at least for us. Nobody knows why, and there haven't been many complaints about it as far as I know. Unless Matt complained about it. Did you complain about it?”

“No.”

“No complaints, then. I mean, it’s still a pretty nice house, we just know now that it’s really… death-y.”

“I mean, it is pretty nice, but that is the only thing it’s getting from me. I swear, why didn’t we just burn the house down? That would’ve been the best solution!”

“Well, we might have died from smoke inhalation and we had no way out since the car exploded.” Matt muttered.

“Start thinking positive things, man.”

“I’m trying.”

“Wait, so is everyone else here, too? Like Sierra and GloZell, and all the… other ones?”

Tim trailed off on his last sentence, mainly because he realized that Justine would be here too. He didn’t like Justine. She was cool for like, the first hour or so, but then she totally slipped up with the death challenge on purpose and got Andrea killed. He was never going to forgive her for that, especially after her weak, half-assed attempt to pretend like it had been anything but intentional. So he helped bury her alive. Sure, it hadn’t been his finest moment, but someone had to go in and he sure as hell wasn’t gonna let it be him. And if it was gonna be someone, it might as well have been the person who intentionally killed his best  friend. He realized he sounded like a psychopath in his own head. Obviously, he wouldn’t kill her if he didn’t have to. But he had to, and he wasn’t exactly alone in his anger at the time.

“Yeah, everyone who dies pops up here, in the same position that they died in. Usually with this dramatic clock toll.”

“Freaky. I’m into it.”

“I think we both have some… questions about how you died.” Matt said, waving over to the gun that was still lying on the table.”

“Same with you.” Andrea said. “But it would probably suck to have to explain it twice, so we’ll gather everyone up and then we can do storytime.”

“Damn, Andrea, are you like, a leader in here? ‘Cause you totally sound like a leader.”

“I mean, I feel like the way this works in everyone’s heads is that the people who died earliest know the most so they kind of take charge? Nothing’s been said, but…”

“No, that makes sense.” Matt responded. “I mean, I still don’t really know how a lot of things work here, but you and Shane have been here the longest, so…”

“Wait, sorry to interrupt but why did you not know he’d died?” Tim asked, coming to the sudden realization.

“I needed a few minutes.” Matt responded. Andrea had looked at Tim like she’d had the exact same question, but upon hearing Matt’s response she nodded like she understood that fully and even patted him on the pack. He gave her a small smile.

“You ready to face the music?” Andrea spun to face Tim. “They’re all waiting outside.”

“Can I, like, go pee first?”

“I don’t think so, no.”

“Well, then, let’s go.”

Andrea grabbed his hand, and squeezed it. Then, together, they stepped out into the cool blue night.

Chapter Text

A blast of cool air met Tim as he opened up the pavillion doors. Immediately what he noticed was that everything around him looked the exact same as it had before, which was admittedly kind of disappointing. Andrea and Matt had told him it was the same, but he’d still kinda been hoping that it would be a utopia with bright sun and big, fluffy clouds, palm trees, and some nice, non-1940’s food. Maybe even a McDonald’s or a Chipotle.

But alas, it was still 1940, and Tim remained sourly devoid of fast food.

He wanted to kick himself then and there, because thinking about fries and burgers made him realize that he was so goddamn hungry. And now he wanted both of those things, plus a milkshake, and million other calorie-filled foods , and now he’d never see a goddamn fast food restaurant ever again.  

He wanted to cry. So did his stomach.

He silently told his stomach to shut the hell up.

It didn’t listen. Stupid stomach.

Andrea nudged him out of his stomach-related problems by sharply elbowing him.

Tim didn’t have to look around to know exactly who was waiting outside. He already knew. Hell, he’d been around for the deaths of three of them. Four, if you counted Matt.

Shane, still looking way better than he did in his normal YouTube videos in his cool leather jacket (though it was way less dapper than his own outfit) was hunched over on a rock, apparently occupied with kicking a stone around for fun. GloZell was sitting next to him, and it was pretty obvious that absolutely nothing had changed when she died, because she was doing little mumbly scat solos that no one else was paying attention to. As soon as they noticed Tim, they sprung up. Probably excited that they wouldn’t have to occupy themselves with singing and the most discount version of soccer you could think of.

“Hey, Tim. It’s not great to see that you’re dead but, y’know, nice to see you.” Shane said, kicking his rock into a bush (Tim internally did a small prayer for it as it bounced out of kicking range). His voice was clearly  trying desperately not to sound too pity-party-ish. He stood up, brushing some of the dirt off his pants. He offered Tim a friendly, if not awkward, fist bump. Tim returned it. To be nice.

GloZell followed suit, looking Tim up and down with some mixture of judgement and/or sorrow. Tim felt a twinge of embarrassment; when GloZell had been hurtling around on the floor like a zombie that had done way too many body shots, Tim had panicked and yelled out ‘she’s twerk dying!’ over all the chaos. That had earned him more than a few judgemental looks.

As if reading his thoughts, GloZell smiled widely at him.

“Hey, Tim. I’d say sorry about you dyin’ and all but you don’t look half as sad as about everybody else here did.”

“Well, I focus on the bright side,” Tim responded with a cheeky grin, “and honestly, dying might be preferable to running around in a house full of ghosts who all wanna kill you with whatever abnormal death trap they pull out of their tight asses every hour or so.” She chuckled at that.

Tim liked GloZell. She was funny (if not a little excessive with the constant singing) and she had given zero fucks about calling Joey out on his (admittedly) total bullshit. Tim had kind of wanted to stay out of the million debates that had been going on at the time but he respected that GloZell would not shut the fuck up about something she was sure about. Of course, that did lead to her death. Huh.

“Um, hi.”

Tim jumped. While he was talking with GloZell, Sierra had somehow snuck up behind him. Not much had changed about her- she was still petite with her hands clasped behind her back. Her voice was still tinkly and soft, with that ever-present hint of awkward and ‘what the fuck is going on?’. Still, she stood a little taller. She sounded a tad bit more self-assured then he’d remembered her to be. She also hadn’t ditched the tiara, and somehow found a lightbulb and installed it in her neck, because that shit was glowing.

“Hey.” Tim responded.

There was an awkward silence after that, which gave Tim automatic war flashbacks to what he’d internally deemed as ‘the great car adventure.’ maybe it wasn’t the best idea to drag her out into a creepy car in the dark with a mannequin in the trunk,

“Sorry I took you out into that car. In retrospect, not one of my greatest ideas.”

Sierra blinked a few times, as if mentally processing the statement.

“Oh, that’s okay. Yeah, it’s fine. You were just getting clues. Sorry I thought you were going to murder me.”

“You did?”

She blinked a few more times, opening her mouth a little bit. She stuttered a few completely incomprehensible things before she laughed. It wasn’t a belly laugh- just a small, unsure chuckle. She offered him a sweet half smile.

He returned it, but it was a full smile so he won.

“It’s cool to see you again.”

“Yeah. It’s cool to see you again, too.”  She said, straightening up.

Tim furrowed his brow.

“Oh! I didn’t mean- that is to say, I’m not happy you died but-”

She realized he was teasing, and gave him a flimsy shove.

“Hey, Matt.” she said, offering him a wave. Tim had just realized now that Andrea and Matt had followed him out, and while Andrea was standing next to him (presumably as emotional support or something) Matt was kind of slouching in the back, though he gave Sierra a friendly wave, which was cool. After Matt had admitted that he’d killed Sierra on accident, things were probably tense between them. Or maybe they’d had a fight, but Tim doubted Sierra could genuinely roast Matt enough to make him sadder than he’d already been. Still, they were cool, and that’s what mattered. Matt still had no clear desire to talk to anyone, though. That hadn’t changed.  Tim would bet money on the fact that Matt just kind of wanted to slouch his way into a sinkhole.

Speaking of betting…

Justine was off to the side as everyone else crowded around. Her face was a mask of emotions, and she was biting her lip. Tim saw that she gave Matt a little wave before she noticed him looking at her and shot him an icy glance. He quickly averted his eyes. It was pretty understandable why Justine wasn’t exactly his biggest fan.  

Andrea looked between him and Justine, as if trying to read the energy between them. She gave Tim a little nudge, though her wasn’t sure what it was for.

“Tim, she wasn’t working with the evil.” Andrea muttered to him.

“How do you know?” he demanded.

“Because she told us.”

“Of course she told  you. What was she going to say? “Hey, guys, I betrayed and murdered all of you and I was working with the evil all along? No! No idiot would do that! Even her!” he whisper-yelled.

“Well she’s here, isn’t she? Plus, we found out who’s working with the evil-” Tim was about to cut her off, asking who it was, but she raised her hand before he could -”and it wasn’t her. And even if it was, would she really be here?”

“Okay good point but who was it?”

“The staff.”

“Oh my god, we’re idiots .”

“Kinda, yeah.”

Tim looked around at all these people… these good people. Shane. Andrea. Sierra.

Well, shit.

In retrospect, Tim felt… kinda bad. If Justine was here with all the other people he knew were trustworthy, maybe she didn’t kill Andrea on purpose. Maybe she was just stupid and flubbed the challenge. Which means that… he killed a semi-innocent person in cold blood.

It’s an eye for an i...Justine.

Hearing that in his own head, he felt really awful and kind of stupid. So now he needed to apologize. Which he didn’t want to do. But he had to.

Because this was the fucking afterlife and he was way too exhausted to be fighting with someone for an eternity over a very, very overblown misunderstanding.

He needed to put all of those conflicting emotions and feelings into she way he greeted her. He needed to express that he felt bad, but wasn’t totally cool with her until a deep conversation. He needed to show that he wasn’t a total dick and didn’t think she was, either. Carefully, like he was walking on that damn tightrope with Monopoly Man hollering at him again, he approached Justine. She might whip out her claws and start stabbing him with them on sight.

Okay, Tim. Suave.

“Hey, uh… you.” He said, with internal finger guns.

You are an imbecile.

Justine looked at him with such confusion that he almost counted as a win that she didn’t look antagonized. Then, her face morphed into an angry/shocked/confused combination so terrifying her wished he could sink into that hole Matt was trying to conjure up.

“That’s all you’re going to say?” she said, with a terrifying edge to her voice. “That’s all you’re going to say after you carried me to a grave and buried me alive? You were one of the people that campaigned for me to go in the ground like some kind of worm and all you have to say is ‘hey, you?”

Tim felt like he was being backed into a very small, uncomfortable corner. Everyone was watching him and Justine,  like it was some kind of sports match (if it were, it would be a sport he was shit at). Andrea, especially, was looking supremely conflicted.

Justine was looking at him still, expecting a response of some kind. She was about a million times scarier than Tim had remembered. She did look a little bit like a zombie, but Tim was still sure the fear factor was still about 90% Justine and like, 10% zombie. Zombies were freaky. Was he a zombie now?

Tim internally slapped himself for that tangent. Especially because Justine kind of looked like she was going to commit murder. If that could happen twice.

“Okay, look,” Tim said, putting his hands up. “Hey, you isn’t all I have to say. As… painful as it is to admit, I fucked up. I had just lost my best friend. I thought it was your fault, and I kinda jumped onto the chance to pin everything on you. And we had to kill someone, so I figured you deserved it because I honestly thought you’d killed Andrea on purpose. But… she says you didn’t, and I believe her. So I’m sorry. Just… you would’ve done the same if I’d failed at getting Joey saved and yelled about how it wasn’t on me right after.”

Justine still looked mad, but some kind of flash came into her eyes after he said it. So she took a few steps back, looking angry but not… furious.

“Well, thank you. For the apology, not anything else. And maybe you’re right, maybe I would’ve done what you did if the positions were switched, but we won’t know. So thank you, but… this doesn’t change how I feel.”

“Naturally.”

“And… I guess I owe you an apology, too.  About all the stuff I said about Andrea, and being stupid at the challenge. I was being awful. I was scared. But GloZell said some really bad stuff about Joey when she got here-”

“Unsurprising.”

“Uh-huh.”

“- and I was so mad. So now I guess I understand how I made you feel.”

Tim wanted to hiss at her like his cat did when he didn’t get food (oh no, his cat…) at the reminder of the way she’d stamped all over Andrea’s name when she was the one who killed her, but then he chilled himself.

“Well, we both kinda fucked up.”

“Yeah.”

“So does that make us even or whatever?”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Does that make us semi-even, with me accepting responsibility for the one really bad thing I did?”

“I dunno. Give it a few weeks and I’ll get back to you.”

That was probably the best he could get at the moment.

“Alrighty, then.”

For a second, the corners of her mouth twitched upward. There was no handshake needed or anything, and he was not going to be all buddy-buddy with her now. But they weren’t going to murder each other on sight, and that, friends, was the true meaning of Christmas.

“I’m gonna go back to the house. I’ll see you guys in a bit.” Justine said. Then she turned heel, and marched towards the lights glimmering in the distance.

Andrea touched his arm.

“Hey.. you handled that well.”

“I know. I kind of improvised it.”

She smirked.

“Thanks for believing me about her.”

“Okay honestly, I’d believe you if you told me that my cat was planning to take over the universe.” Tim responded. She gave him a smile.

“Okay, well, I’m sorry to interrupt but we should be heading back.” Shane cut in. “If we’re going to hear about exactly what happened to you… to both of you.” He nodded over at Matt, who was standing a ways off from the rest.

“Yeah, can we go? I’m cold.” GloZell complained.

“Sure, why not?” Tim said, shrugging. It’s not like I want to commit arson on that dumb house, which is what we should have done in the first place.”

Matt opened his mouth.

“Matt, I swear to god, no one is asking about smoke inhalation right now.”

He shut it.

“Okay, well, don’t do that, and let’s go.”

As a group minus Justine, they trekked back to the house. Tim stopped to admire some of the scenery- shrubs, the pool, the greenhouse, Justine’s unburied coffin- yikes - and the somehow neatly trimmed yard. He figured the afterlife didn’t exactly have a groundskeeper. And if the groundskeeper was a zombie with any kind of accent, they could keep it in their pile of nightmare fuel because Tim would bash that thing’s head off real quick.

After a few minutes of walking (these grounds were way too big and Tim got winded almost immediately) the group entered the house. Tim found himself looking around, like he did when he’d first seen the damn place. It was like a replica… which he didn’t like. This house brought with it so many awful memories that he really didn’t wanna be living here. Maybe some kind of celebrity’s mansion replica. That would be epic.

But whatever. At least it didn’t suck that much. He would take the murder house over the pit of despair (though the only difference was really that one was better decorated than the other) anyday.

Justine was in the voting lunge (she could powerwalk, seriously) and she was surprisingly asleep, leaning against an armchair and hugging a throw pillow.

“Hey, guys,” Shane said, with a stupidly happy smile on his face, “should we put her hand in a bowl of warm water?”

Sierra looked confused. Tim thought it was a great idea. He didn’t give a shit how ‘kid-ish’ it was, that prank was freaking funny.

“You’re a child, y’know that?” GloZell said, giving him a shove before waking Justine a light nudge.

“Oh, hey guys.” Justine drawled, mid-yawn. “What’re we doing?”

“Getting a rundown on what happened after Sierra…” Shane trailed off, clearly trying not to offend her or anything.

“Died. It’s okay, Shane.”

“Okay, cool. Also, Justine, I did not suggest putting your hand in a bowl of warm water.”

She looked confused.

“So, Matt, how about you start us off by telling us how Sierra died? We STILL don’t know.”

Tim’s immediate thought was Oh, shit.

Matt looked a bit like a deer in headlights. He’d lost all the colour in his already white-ass face and he was looking around, almost for some excuse he could use to get out of the situation, like a Doctor Who portal or a wormhole. The thought had also crossed Tim’s mind that maybe Sierra hadn’t known yet about Matt’s Great Fuck-Up, but that thought was immediately gone when she started shuffling uncomfortably in her seat and looking at Matt with obvious discomfort. He didn’t want to be rude, but it looked a bit like she had a really bad rash on her butt and she was scratching it without trying to be embarrassing. Next to him, Andrea looked like she was trying to read the room.

Matt started stuttering, beginning phrases and then repeating them as if  we were some kind of robot that had gotten water spilled on him.

“Okay, I see you three lookin’ at each other. What are ya’ll not telling us and spill it,now.” GloZell snapped.

Sierra didn’t go over to Matt, but she gave him a small nod, as if to say it’s okay, dude.

So shakily, Matt took a breath and recounted the story, hopefully for the last time. Tim just prayed it went better than the last attempt he’d made.

“It was- Sierra’s death, it was my fault. I had to perform the ritual, and I didn’t see what was going on and I, I just wanted to get it done so I just looked at the first part of the clue. I could either kill myself or kill Sierra. And I… I killed her. By accident.”

He took a shuddery breath, and drooped his head like a dog that’d been kicked. Tim was assuming that he was waiting for another Lele or another Eva to go off on him again.

Everything was silent for a hot minute. Andrea’s brow was furrowed, Justine was looking at Sierra with sympathy in her eyes (guess she knew what it was like to be killed by someone else), and Shane’s mouth was settled into a thin line. GloZell looked pretty mad and then predictably launched into question mode.

“How on earth did you manage to ‘accidentally’ (she said it with exaggerated air quotations) flub up something that important? Weren’t you paying attention?”

“It was kind of hard to. A possessed woman was doing some like, freaky psycho gymnastics on the table and roaring and we were both scared out of our minds. I wanted it done as soon as possible.”

“Sounds like one of my house guests.” Shane muttered. Justine gave him a smirk.

“How do we know you’re not lyin’ to save face?” GloZell pried.

Matt just shrugged helplessly.

“I’m… not.”

“Behind him on that one.” Tim spoke up. “Dude was in such a bad state, he could’ve lied about even accidentally killing her in the first place but he didn’t.”

“And what,” GloZell said, looking suspicious but not murderous (yet) “Would you have done, y’know, If you’d read the clue like any dummy with a brain would do?”

Matt looked speechless for a second, his eyes darting around the room.

“I don’t know, I didn’t have the chance to- I mean, I couldn’t have known but I dont- I don’t know what I would’ve done-”

“It’s okay, GloZell.” Sierra said, quietly but surely. Impressively so.

“Honestly, I don’t know what would’ve happened. But he’s sorry and I… forgive him. It was a mistake.”

“A damn stupid one. What kinda professor are you?”

“I don’t know. And you’re right it was a… a really stupid mistake. But I honestly didn’t mean to kill her. Never.” Matt said.

GloZell seemed satisfied with the response.

He and Sierra exchanged a glance. A short one, but a cool one nonetheless.

“Okay, so let’s move on.” Shane responded. “What happened after?”

Matt gave Tim a pleading glance for help. He was clearly very over having a public voice in conversation at the moment, so Tim took up the story.

He talked about the (very) fun time they’d had smashing open globes, the kinky-chained up mermaid freak who wanted her stupid dolly, the naked mermaid sisters (who he would totally hit up), the pool-diving strip-tease thing, the cute-ass baby turtles, being voted in for no reason against Matt ,   and the dollhouse challenge. He tried to refrain from bringing up Matt’s asshole-ery throughout the whole dumb experience, because those days of when normal Matt was taken over by his alter ego from the shitty discount section of Walmart  were behind the dude and he wasn’t a Lele. Matt was his friend, and he wasn’t gonna throw him under the bus or remind him of when he lost it.

He briefly talked about the stupid dolls and their stupid poetry and the stupid poison thing, and then he quickly skipped passed the fact that absolutely no one had asked where Matt was and moved onto World War III or whatever it was.

He talked about the five billionth riddle they’d had to solve,Lele being a gold-digger,  how much of an absolute asshole Colin was, the backyard turning into a warzone with gunshots and shit, Eva blowing up a rotunda (it was awesome), the attempt to burn a metal briefcase (absolutely everyone looked at him like he was the biggest dumbass to ever dumbass), the mutants and the lab (straight out of Rocky Horror), the fancy gun he got that he killed a few guys with (awesome experience, totally hit that on the bucket list) - and then of course, wartime with two people.

Tim took a breath, remembered Andrea was next to him, and started off with Eva immediately being noted as the only one who hadn’t officially had her life on the line yet by him and Joey. Shane looked kinda defensive over her, and Tim was about to make a you like her, oooo joke when his dumb ass remembered they’d been good friends at the beginning of the night.  He was just about to talk about how he’d been voted in for no reason when Matt cut in.

“It was my fault, wasn’t it?” he said, looking at him with shame. Tim wished he knew where the hell it was coming from, though.

“What are you talking about?’

“They voted you in because of me. Because I was your friend and they hated me. They thought I was working with the evil. They must’ve thought you were, too.”

Tim was so flabbergasted at the fact that Matt was dead-ass blaming himself for something that had happened after he died that he couldn’t register a response.

“Which means it’s my fault that you’re dead.” Matt said, breathing heavily.

Sierra tried to cut in. “Matt-”

“No, Sierra, don’t you get it?” he snapped. “It’s my fault you died, and it’s my fault he died. This is all my fault,  I’m so-I’m sorry, guys.” he said, breathlessly.

Sierra was shaking her head. Numbly.

“We don’t know what happened yet, Matt.” Justine said.

“It doesn’t matter, Justine. I know that’s why. They knew Tim was my friend, and now he’s dead because of that.”

Tim finally found his footing, hearing that.

“Look, dude. I don’t even know who voted for me, because I thought Eva, Lele, and Oli were voting for Joey. And I thought Joey and I were both voting for Eva, which was effective I guess because she somehow went into the challenge with me. So some bullshitter put my name in for some reason. AGAIN.  I don’t think it would be because of you. Cause… they were all happy I beat you. And I saved a few of them by shooting a bunch of guys.”

Everyone looked at Matt with deep sympathy, but the poor dude just kinda looked like he’d accepted it.

“And… if anybody, Matt, my death was my own fault.”

“How?” Andrea snapped.

Tim mentally prepared himself for the confession he had to make.

“Eva and I had to play this fucked-up combo of battleship and Russian Roulette. Every time we scored a hit on the other player… you had to hold a gun to your head and pull the trigger.”

Sierra let loose a little gasp. Andrea put her hand on his leg. She looked absolutely horrified.

“Oh my lord…” GloZell murmured.

Shane just shook  his head. And Tim knew Justine held little sympathy for him, but even she looked at him with a spark of pity.

Matt just looked devastated because the idiot still probably somehow thought it was his fault.

“So… at first I was trying to, y’know. Win. And Eva scored a hit-”

Everyone seemed to be holding their breath.

“-but it was a blank. So I was okay. And then we went back and forth and back and forth and then I scored a hit on her and it was a blank, but… she looked at me. While she was doing it. And she was just so, I dunno, scared?  She started crying after she did it, and I remembered what she’d said earlier- about just being a YouTuber, not being cut out for this- and I didn’t want to have to watch her hold that damn gun up against her head again.”

He sighed.

“So I faked a hit. H-8. And I took the bullet.”

It would’ve been nice to get a nice collective gasp, and then maybe a parade celebrating him as “Tim the absolutely beautiful hero” but it was just quiet.

“You idiot. You stupid, stupid idiot.”

Andrea. She had a single tear streaming down her face.

“Andrea, it was my choice. I don’t regret it, I mean, I get to see you again. And Eva gets to live. I mean, she deserves it.”

“How can you say that? You- you KILLED yourself, Tim.”

“I know, I know. I’m really sorry. But if you’d been there, I just- I just couldn’t watch Eva shoot herself. Not for real. And it’s gone past and I don’t regret the choice I made so can we just move on?”

Andrea just wiped another tear from her eye and pulled him into a tight hug.

“Never gonna forgive you for this. You’re way too brave and way too stupid.” she muttered.

“Love you too.”

They pulled away, and Andrea glared at him but it didn’t stick and she just gave him a really sad, teary smile.

Tim then decided to take the opportunity to look at everyone’s shocked-ass faces.

Everyone was looking at him with some combination of sympathy and admiration for the deed he’d done in order for Eva to live. Which was probably a good combination.

“I wouldn’t have expected that from you, honestly.” Justine murmured. He shot a glance at her and they just kinda looked at each other before it got awkward.

“Okay, you guys can stop staring now. But since you’re all being quiet for once I’m taking this opportunity to say three things. One, those little shits had better not vote Eva in again after I was a goddamn hero and got her to live. Two, I hope whichever idiot voted me in gets dead. And three, ya’ll are going to make a holiday. It’s going to be Tim Day and you’re all going to celebrate me and how freaking noble I am.”

He sat down. Everyone stared at him for a second before some smiles broke out and they all started either protesting about Tim Day (which was a GREAT idea, by the way) or just taking up general conversation.

Sierra walked up to him, and she, surprisingly, gave him an awkward little hug.

“That was, um, really brave of you. And Eva was my friend, so… thank you. Not for dying, not for dying! Just- just for saving her.”

“Hey, no problem. Spread the word about Tim Day, though?”

“No thanks.” she said, with a semi-cheeky smile on her face. Then she walked away to GloZell so they could talk about girl stuff or lightbulb-necks or whatever.

Matt was still sitting on the couch, and Tim walked over to him.

Matt started to say something before Tim cut him off.

“Dude, I’m going to give you some A+ advice, here. You need to stop blaming yourself for things, okay? I get you’re mad about all the shit that went down with Sierra, but that was an accident and you’re head wasn’t screwed on right. And it was NOT your fault that I chose to save Eva. That was my heroic-ass choice, not yours. So just… grow a backbone, okay? No one is going to blame you for anything. No one.”

Matt was about to say something when, all of a sudden, a giant-ass bell rang out, which Tim was about 9000% sure destroyed his eardrums. Everyone started screaming like idiots.

A few people started screaming like idiots.

Okay, so he screamed like an idiot.

Andrea patted his arm, as if to say; No one else is doing it. Stop

“Okay, guys!” Shane said loudly. “New meat is here!”

“Of all the ways to say that there’s someone dead now, is that really the best one you could think of?” GloZell snapped up at him.

“Shush. So there’s someone new now, and since we’re on artifact number-” he looked at Tim for clarification.

“Uh, four? Maybe?”

“-Four, maybe, we should be on the last death. I mean, hopefully.”

“You just jinxed it!” Justine said, before going to rap hardly on the wooden table.

“Knock on wood. Thanks, Justine. Okay, to the spirit board!”

So the group went to the spirit board, Andrea being available to answer all fifty million questions Tim had. So now he knew that the loud-ass fever dream clock bell was just the afterlife’s way of going “HEY THERE, YA DUMB SHITS! SOMEONE DIED!”

After blinding Tim with freaky golden light that game out of nowhere, the spirit board helpfully pointed them down into the basement (everyone groaned, because honestly, who liked the basement?) and it took a painstakingly long time to spell out the word “H-A-L-L-U-C-I-N-A-T-I-O-N-S.”

“Okay, so the spirit board is telling us that the challenge involved getting seriously wasted. Goddamnit, why wasn’t I there for that?” Tim had complained.

Apparently, only Shane had found that funny.

They travelled down into the dark, past the Ungodly Dumb-chine, a room Sierra shuddered away from, and about fifty other doors before they got to the very end of the basement, which was apparently where the map had pointed them to.

Apparently, the new challenge had involved a lot of drugs because whoever this was was screeching and banging and generally sounding like they were having a seizure.

“Okay, so who wants to go look?” Shane screeked, un-subtly trying to push his way to the back.

“No.”

“ OhHhhhH NoOoO” GloZell drawled sang.

“Absolutely not?”

“Please, no.”

“I just died!” was Tim’s excuse.

Matt sighed. He was, of course, the only one left.

“You guys are cowards.” he said. Good to see he was starting to blame other people for shit now.

So Matt opened the door and carefully crept into the room with screamy-shits McGee.

“Yell really freaking loudly if you’re in trouble!”

Chapter Text

Lele’s head hurt.

No, it was her stomach.

No, damnit, everything hurt.

Thoughts barrelled through her head at the speed of sound, she could barely catch up with them. Not that she really wanted to, but whatever.

Joey’s the worst partner ever.

Fuck this.

Why the hell couldn’t I get Eva?

Joder esta mierda…

Ow, ow ow ow god it hurts stop it please I’ll do anything make the pain go away…

Stop throwing them on my goddamn feet.

Por favor, merezco esto quiero vivir no me dejes morir…

Bullshit, Joey’s not even trying…

No, no, it wasn’t supposed to end this way I can’t let them win don’t take me please let this end I don’t wanna die I don’t wanna die...

Pain.

All Lele felt was pain. 

Jolts hit her again and again. They never ended. They raced though her veins, forcing her to scream out like a desperate animal. 

Then she heard Eva get the third ring.

Her heart dropped and two things happened at once. Anger like she’d never felt or experienced before exploded  through her like a nuclear bomb. And the last, deadly jolt of electricity set off as she failed to learn in the stupid learning chair.

She screamed, again and again. Her limbs convulsed. She threw her head back as agony and fire erupted within her. And her heart stopped.

The pain didn’t though.

She lay on that chair still in agony, but she felt… alive, more or less. A pang of hope lit up her heart. Could it be that the house had thrown her a lifeline? Could she stay alive after all? Could it be that it had just been a really bad jolt and she was going to be okay? She opened her eyes, hoping to see Eva, Oli, even Joey.

No, what she got was about the worst thing she could have ever imagined.

The world was blurry, distorted. One minute there would be one table, then two, then suddenly four. She felt like someone was slowly tilting her to one side, then jerking back up and tilting her to the other. The chair beside her got up, sprouted wings, and floated away. Her chair sounded like it was growling. Nothing looked real, and yet it did. She could hear her panicked breath in her ears. The corners of her vision were blurry, she couldn’t see anything in them. She was paralyzed with fear. She’d never experienced anything like what she was now.

And then she heard Shane’s voice.

He was standing in front of her, clear as day. He was holding a bloody steak up, with a fork. To Lele’s horror, the steak had purple veins running through it. Poison. His eyes were bloodshot and haunting.

“ May you die in horrible pain, my cursed enemy. ”he said. It sounded almost like it wasn’t something being said in front of her. It sounded like he was somehow speaking it into both of her ears. Then Shane took a bite of the steak and… disappeared. Lele was almost relieved. Then… 

Andrea, locked up in the Ungodly Machine, which had appeared out of nowhere. Her gloved hands were like claws, scraping up against the glass.

“ A monster will emerge. ” She growled. Then a plume of gas filled up the chamber and then she was gone, too. Lele looked at the ground, praying that nothing would happen there.

Please, I don’t wanna be crazy help me somebody please I don’t want to look at this...

She was such a goddamn idiot.

The ground just below her started to crumble. Cracks appeared in the floor and then a hand, a shaking, clenched-up hand, burst out. Lele shrieked as more stones fell away, revealing…

“RELEASE ME FROM THIS HELL!” Justine screamed. Her face was caked in dirt, her blue eyes terrified and yet also furious. Then she disappeared too.

One by one, the deceased flashed before her eyes.

“ Calvin showed me the hole in her soul .” GloZell drawls out. She opens a journal in her hand. GloZell was written across the span of two pages, in a messy scrawl. Blood poured out of her throat and then she disappeared.

Sierra. Lele’s friend. And now she held a rosary over her head, trapped in a chalk circle.

“ Restore my faith…” she pleaded. Then she dropped the rosary onto her neck, let out a gut-wrenching scream, and faded away.

Matt, on his knees, limply chained up to a wall. A doll was clenched in one hand. A vial in the other. She silently asked her freakin’ messed up brain if it would kindly not send her hallucinations of Matt. That guy sucked.

“ The house lied to me. It said I’d be free, but now I am in chains .” he said, in a growling, raspy, hollow voice that was awful, even for his dumb-ass, drawly, creep-voice. Then he drank the green substance in the vial, fell limp, and he was gone.

Right in front of her, Tim appeared, pointing a gun at her and looking at her with a dark anger she’d never imagined on Tim’s face before.

“You trying to steal my gold?” he asked her angrily. Then, to her horror, he slowly pointed the gun towards his own head, which she wouldn’t exactly expect from him. The gun fired. He disappeared with blood spilling out of a hole in his temple.

And then the chorus started.

In pairs, quadruples, all at once, or one at a time, they all started appearing again, flashing before her, saying their mantras, disappearing, being immediately replaced. Lele was bound to the chair. If she turned her head, they followed. If she closed her eyes, the sounds of their voices forced them open again. They drowned out all other possible noises. Her head was a mess of fear, anger, screams, a gunshot, a whining noise that never drowned out. Lele let out a guttural scream and prayed for the end. Was this how Vincent felt all the time? How could he stand it? Was she ever going to escape these… these nightmares? 

These… hallucinations.

Oh, fuck.

Whichever subject failed to learn- I’m fucking hallucinating, 

Just… fantastic.

This is total bull.

Okay, gotta freaking snap out of it. 

“It said I’d be free, but now I am in chains-”

“God- shut UP, fake Matt! You’re as annoying as real Matt, and he died!” Lele screeched out loud. Well, at least she could still speak. God, she prayed no one was standing anywhere around her because she’d sound like a psycho. 

She’d sound like Vincent. Shudder.

Alright, she had to snap out of this hallucination shit before she actually  lost her mind and would stay like this forever. She tried blinking excessively. Screaming. 

She tried slapping herself before realizing her goddamn hand was still strapped to the stupid chair. When she broke out, she was gonna throw that thing into the closest freaking fire she could find and then watch it burn. 

Okay, come on. Come on. You’re strong, you’ve done some crazy shit for your Vines before, you can break out of this. I gotta do this. 

C’mon, Eleonora- no, fuck that- c’mon, Lele.

Lele. Gotta… gotta keep that in my head. 

She screwed her eyes shut and tried to focus on her name, like some kind of mantra.

Lele.

Lele..

“ Lele.”

Why the hell did my voice just get a thousand times more annoying?

“Lele.”

There it is again. Ew.

“ Lele.”

It’s sounding more solid now? Damnit!

“LELE.”

Against her better judgement, her brain forced her eyes open and she prepared herself for the gory, awful images this dumb chair had turned up, but no. There was just one gory, awful, disgusting, horrible, never-would-want-to-see-it-again, absolutely abhorrent image in front of her.

It was Matt. 

That little bitch-

The perv was leaning over her, looking equal parts annoyed and disturbed, which she supposed fit into how she was feeling.

Oh, wait. Is this just another hallucination?

She looked down and realized that thank god, her hands were free.

So she decided to do a field experiment that was win-win either way.

She wound up, took glorious satisfaction in his facial expression as he realized what she was about to do, and slapped him. Right in the face.

The sound echoed through the room as he reeled back, which meant she was neither hallucinating and she had just slapped real Matt in the face, which made her incredibly giddy. But then she realized that- wait, crap, she had just slapped Matt in the face- really- which meant he was ACTUALLY here with her.

“Oh, god DAMNIT!” she screeched, punching the armchair. “I thought I was gonna end up in HEAVEN when I died!”

“God, will you ever stop yelling- what?”

“Are you deaf? I said I wanted to end up in HEAVEN, not OBVIOUS HELL.” she said, flailing her arm around to indicate the room she was trapped in which was the exact same goddamn one she died in. Bullshit.

“You kind of did? End up in heaven, I mean.  I don’t know,” he said, slowly and obviously trying to back away from her . “You kinda deserve hell.” he tried to mutter.

“Yo, you better back off or I’m going to slap you again.”

“Can I get at least an apology for that?”

“Uh, hell no. I have been waiting to do that ALL NIGHT. And if I’m gonna have to live with you in hell for the rest of eternity, you better believe a slap isn’t all you’re gonna get.”

“Oh, kinky!” someone said. Lele was about to sucker punch Matt before she heard a loud “ow” in the same voice come from outside the door, and also because Matt looked as confused/annoyed as she was.

“Oh my go- is that Timothy?” she snapped at him.

“Yeah. They’re uh… they’re all here, too. I’m assuming someone shoved him.”

“Shut up.” 

It was actually a fair assumption, but Lele wasn’t going to tell him that.

Lele contemplated it for a second- that she apparently had to share this afterlife with all these other losers- no, she liked some of them- people. So everyone who had died was here, right now. Some of that made her happy- she’d get to see Sierra and GloZell again, hell, she was even kind of looking forward to seeing Tim. That stupid ‘I’m not saying she’s a gold digger’ joke was actually kind of funny. But that also meant she had to see Andrea, who was boring, Justine, who she’d kind of helped murder, Shane, who she didn’t really care about until he was dying, and of course, the absolute atrocity standing before her now. She shuddered.

“Alright well I’m leaving this shit because seeing everyone is probably a hundred times better than seeing you.” 

“Alright, fine. Whatever. But can I at least get, I dunno, a thank you?”

She turned on her heels. The utter nerve of this bitch-

“And what exactly am I thanking you for? You have literally done nothing but try and kill me while perving on me-” he opened his mouth to protest- “Oh, shut up, you know you did. And, you’ve acted like a total dick the entire night, plus, you were the one that killed Sierra. You might even be working with the freaking spirit that killed me, and everyone else in this hell-house so what in the hell am I possibly gonna thank you for?”

“For snapping you out of the stupid hallucination, obviously!” he said, finally showing some semblance of a personality. “Look, I’ve already accepted that all the shit I did up there was wrong, so you don’t have to tell me about it. But you were kicking and screaming and I don’t think you could have gotten out on your own because you started to come to when I freed up your arms, so I’d like a thank-you for doing something decent to help you.”

“You’re not special. I don’t know why those idiotas thought it would be a good idea to send you down here, because anyone else could have broken me out. Even Tim. But stop acting like you’re some hero, because you’re not. I, on the other hand, am a total badass.”

“Oh, so you have to brag now? Well, how’s this? You have never had your own life on the line, because every challenge you come in is either a fake like the mannequins, or you have to depend on other people to save you! And don’t try to deny anything, you were strapped to an electric chair. No way could you do a challenge there. You’re not as strong as you think you are.”

“At least I tried! You, on the other hand, gave up as soon as shit got hard!”

“You have no idea how I felt.”

“Oh, sure I do!”

“Well, are you gonna put yourself in my shoes? No! Because all you care about is yourself!”

“First of all, your shoes are tacky. And second, you were so bad at a challenge that you screwed up and killed somebody!”

“Would you rather I killed her on purpose? Someone had to die!”

“And how am I supposed to believe you?”

“You could’ve gone down to the basement yourself and read the stupid note out loud but were you gonna do that? No!”

“You suck. You have ALWAYS sucked, Matt. I should’ve killed you when I had the chance.”

“I don’t care what you should’ve done. What’s important is that you are absolutely intolerable. I don’t understand why anyone would want anything to do with you.”

“Oh, that’s bold coming from you. You are such a jerk.”

“You’re awful, and rude.”

“You’re lazy, you’re a perv, and I want nothing to do with you!”

“You always act like you’re so much better than everyone, and I’m sick of it. I’ve been sick of it this entire time.”

“Well, that’s because I am better than ninety percent of the people here.”

“Oh, so now you have to brag?”

“I have a right to-”

“You don’t have a right to ANYTHING.”

“Would you all just SHUT UP? GOD.”

Lele whirled around, seeing that the group was just kinda standing there. Shane was the one who had spoken. Andrea was standing by him, looking equal parts amused and slightly horrified. Justine was standing a ways away from the others, and Sierra was kind of hiding behind GloZell. Tim was there, too. His face was kind of annoying.

“Well, uh. I guess nothing’s changed.” Andrea muttered.

“Nothing is ever gonna change with those two. If you accept that, the more you can deal with it.” Shane muttered. “That’s why I’ve accepted that food is absolutely my one true love and nothing’s ever gonna change that.”

“Does this mean they’re gonna be fighting forever?” Justine spoke up. “Because I really don’t wanna deal with that.”

“Speak for yourself. I’m totally gonna be shipping these two until they eventually have hate-sex. I’m calling them Latt. Wait, no… Mele. Yeah.” 

Okay, so Lele did not want to see Tim anymore. In fact, she felt like slapping him, possibly harder than she slapped Matt, but Andrea was standing right there and she figured she’d be alienated really quickly if she hurt him. So she settled for a death glare. Beside her, Matt looked annoyed, like a pouty child.

Tim looked way too proud of himself. Sierra gave him a weak but still fairly satisfying shove.

Lele just kind of stared at the group in a very uncomfortable silence for maybe about a minute before she finally decided to break the silence.

“Well, hi.” she said, as if she were explaining a concept to a bunch of toddlers. “So am I dead now or whatever?”

She looked around, expecting someone to at least answer the question.

“Yeah, you’re dead.” Tim said. “You guys, she’s not that scary.”

“She’s not scary at all,  Tim.” Sierra said quietly, slowly emerging from the back. Lele felt a bit of a pang in her chest when she saw how sad Sierra looked. She was obviously trying to hold back tears, put up a front and be strong, but Lele remembered how angry and upset she’d been when Sierra was voted into the exorcism and Matt returned. She figured that Sierra felt the same way, seeing her now- apart from the angry part, because she wasn’t entirely sure that emotion could really fit in Sierra’s head. Nevertheless, she remembered how Sierra had asked her to go shopping when they thought the night had ended. Sierra had been one of her best friends in the nightmare-devil house.

Sierra took a few steps forward, clearly trying to put on a brave face. Lele met her halfway there, and gave her a huge hug, both because they needed it and because, well, she wasn’t opposed to hugging.

After she slowly pulled away, Sierra was doing a few soft, hiccup-y sobs. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I’m sorry, it’s- it’s stupid, But I was just hope-” she gasped a bit- “hoping that you would make it out, I mean- you’re so strong.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I am never, and will never stop being strong. And hey, I didn’t survive and that sucks almost as much as Matt’s fashion sense, but we can find some cute 1920s clothes here and have a shopping spree. Plus, the afterlife would suck without me.”

Sierra gave her another hug.

Lele stepped back, and decided that she didn’t feel like wasting her time on sappy reunions or lots of talk, so she just decided to go down the line.

“Okay so, Justine, I’m really sorry I killed you. We had to kill somebody and I kinda hopped on the bandwagon. I mean, it was nothing personal.”

She gave a little nod of acknowledgement, though she was looking a little hostile. Lele didn’t care, though. It was kind of a mirror of her own feelings.

“It’s… not okay, but I’m not really that mad anymore. I have a right to, but I honestly don’t feel like holding grudges anymore.”

She and Justine had a little handshake of mutual ‘ you’re kind of cool’ feeling.

“Shane, Andrea. Okay, Shane, I’m sorry we were all idiots and couldn’t save you. Andrea, I’m really sorry Eva saved me faster and I was really sad when you died.”She exaggerated because she wasn’t that sad, but hey, who was it hurting?

Shane just nodded like it was obvious.

“Thanks.” Andrea said, with a mini-smile.

“Tim, you were annoying then and you’re annoying now, but I still think you were semi-cool. But if you keep shipping me with that lunatic I’m not gonna hesitate to slap you.”

“I make no promises.” he said, with an infuriating wink. She promptly gave him the stink-eye.

She simply gave Matt the middle finger, giving herself a round of thunderous applause for being the bigger person and not kicking him in the nuts.

Before she could say anything to her, GloZell wrapped her in one of her giant patented hugs, nearly knocking the little wind Lele had right out of her. Still, she appreciated the gesture. Oh, crap, I owe her an apology-

She started to talk, but GloZell cut her off. Nothing had changed- if there was anyone who was gonna beat Lele as the first one to speak in a conversation, it was totally GloZell.

“Hey, boo. Look, I’m with Sierra here. I mean, I can’t believe you died! I just want you to know, I love you and I know that you ain’t gonna let anyone walk over you. I certainly ain’t gonna try.”

“Thanks, GloZell-” Lele choked out, before managing to wrangle herself out of the hug before she ended up having to walk around with a crushed windpipe. 

“Look, I just wanted to say I’m, like, really sorry I let Joey write your name down in that journal. It was stupid, and I should’ve just wrenched that thing out of his hands and written SOMEONE ELSE’S name down.”

She didn’t look at him for greater effect, but she hoped Matt was quivering.

“Oh, I do not even wanna think about Joey right now. I mean, no offense, Justine- I know he wasn’t with the evil,”- Justine gave her a nod and a semi-ironic thumbs up-”But I ain’t gonna let him off for killin’ me. But I do have one question.”

“Fire away.” Lele loved interviews. She, for one, hoped that she would get to go in depths of how heroic she’d been. Like, volunteering the swim, offering Oli her mask- she was awesome. Matt could screw right off about that. The most he’d done was mess up an exorcism.

“You were, um-you were flippin’ out before we heard you guys shouting at each other and realized you were both okay. Like, screamin’ your own name, I think you told Matt to go away at some point when he wasn’t in the room yet, we were- we were all real scared for you. What happened?”

“Yeah, are you okay?” Sierra cut in, eyes still a little puffy but now brimming with concern rather than tears. “And what’s with those- those chairs? They’re creepy.” She wagged a shaky finger towards the chairs before drawing it back again, as if she thought they were gonna leap out at her.

“I wanted to ask about that!” Tim said, jumping out from where he was standing. “I mean, the spirit board’s clue was hallucinations, so what happened- did you have to do like, 20’s drugs and go on an LSD trip? Or did you get turnt? Please don’t tell me it’s anything like that, because if it is, I shot myself to save Eva and I didn’t even get to get wasted. And that would be the real tragedy of tonight, guys. Let’s get real.”

Everyone looked at him. Silently.

“Tim, you’re- you’re creepy.” Sierra said.

“Wait, you shot yourself?” Lele asked.

“Long story. And by the way, we’re organizing Tim Day to celebrate my heroics.”

“We’re not doing Tim Day, Tim.” Shane said, exasperatingly.

“Man, ya’ll suck!”

“Okay, can you guys just shut up? First of all, no, we didn’t do 1920s drugs. We had to free some creepy psycho in a straitjacket. In the final challenge, I got put in with Oli and we had to sit in those things, and we had to be saved by a partner.”

“Oh, and your partner failed you? Been there.” Andrea cut in. Then she looked at Justine, who looked hurt. 

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I kind of deserve it.”

“Okay, so my partner was-” Lele tried to cut back into the story.

“Joey.” everyone responded automatically.

“Guys, give him a chance, okay? Maybe he’s not as bad as he- oh. Oh, the other helper was Eva wasn’t it?” Justine cut in. Lele gave Justine a bit of respect for standing up for her friend, but- yeah.

Lele nodded at her.

“That’s uh- that’s not surprising, then. Sorry, Joey.” Justine muttered. Shane gave her a little sympathy pat, which she probably appreciated.

“But yeah. It was this fucked up game of ring toss- okay, do we have to do this in here? Because I’m already getting freaking PTSD being in here with these chairs, okay? Is there literally anywhere else we could be doing this?”

“Yeah, there is. She has a point, too. It’s kinda crowded in here.” Shane responded.

“What do you mean? We’re bonding!”

“Shut up, Tim. Well, I vote we leave this room to disintegrate and I’ll tell you the whole story in somewhere that’s minimally more comfortable. Is there a spa here?”

“Ugh, I wish.” GloZell sighed wistfully. “But- you hafta tell us what all that screaming was about.”

“Deal. Let’s just get the hell out of here.”

The group started to file out, mostly calmly but not without a comment from Tim that he got a mini-slap for (you guys are no fun, I think the chairs are kinky!). Lele was the last one out, and as they were all heading down the long, musty-ass hallway, Lele looked back at the door and felt a sudden urge to hit something. She would’ve hit Matt again, but the bastard had already made it halfway down the hallways. So she promptly settled for the next-best thing.

She power-walked over and kicked the door shut, the old shitbag creaking all the way. As it slammed closed with a huge BAM and a resounding cloud of dust ( gross) the group turned back and looked at her as if she were the next check-in for the freaking asylum.

“You are insane.”

Lele simply gave him a smile, and tossed her braid back over her shoulder.

“Oh, trust me. I know.”

Chapter Text

Lele really hated this particular set of stairs. After all, she’d marched down to her almost-death as well as her actual death here, and so going up them set off the tiniest hint of nostalgia. She didn’t particularly like that- better to leave all that horror shit in the past.

Which was, of course, not helped by the fact that everything was the exact fuckin’ same but if she could deal with Matt Haag for seven whole hours (holy SHIT she had to deal with him longer here- well, she could just avoid him) she could manage to force herself to enjoy the infuriatingly nice decor.

Silently, though, she cursed herself for wishing to be a part of this house. Idiota.

After click-clacking up the stairs, and up the stone walkway (also not helping the bitter nostalgia), Lele burst dramatically through the glass doors ahead of everyone else and, with almost a dazzling flourish, she crumpled onto the soft, pillowy couch, kicking her heels off somewhere and propping her tired feet up onto a pillow. Because dear god, Lele could do anything but running in those heeled monsters was going to give her so many bruises. Around her, everyone else started milling in through the door, with some yells because apparently some idiots (otherwise known as Tim) thought that there could somehow be mosquitos in the afterlife when GloZell left the door open for air. Oh, and a few opposing yells due to Lele’s selected sitting position, which she felt she had earned.

“Do you have to…” Shane made a gesture at Lele’s feet.

Because she was taking up the entire couch.

Because she was special.

Because she said so.

“Have to… what?” Lele sent a pointed glare in his direction.

“God, sorry. I just wanted some room.” 

He overdramatically sank onto the floor near Andrea’s feet, which was a mistake. Lele silently wished she could make an internal bet with someone as to how long Shane could go without being kicked in the back of the head.

Around her, everyone was taking their places around the deady-dead friendship circle or whatever the hell it was. As Matt passed her she chose to ignore some pointed comments with such insulting vocabulary as ‘ selfish’ and ‘the most bossy person in the entire world.’

He was clearly delusional and in need of life-changing therapy so she decided to be the bigger person.

“Alright, so now that we’re all settled… ” Justine shot a glance at Lele. “I think we all want to know what happened.”

“Yeah, tell us about the 1940s LSD drugs? Are they any good? If they are, can I get some?”

Tim was, unsurprisingly, met with an elbow in the ribs.

“Tim, for the last god damn time I didn’t do any drugs. And even if I did, I wasn’t going to tell you.”

“ Ughhhhhhhh.”

“Okay, everybody shut the hell up and I’ll tell you what happened.”

“You don’t need to be so rude about it.” Matt grumbled from his place at the end of one of the couches. 

“If you don’t shut your mouth, I’mma show you how rude I can be.” Lele snapped, feeling hot, spicy rage boil in her stomach. Every time he talked, that seemed to happen. 

“Can’t possibly be any ruder than what we’re all used to.”

Andrea let out an exasperated groan.

“Oh my god, would you two give it a rest? We get it, you hate each other-”

“They like-”

“TIM.”

“Shutting up now.”

“-But can you at least like, stop fighting every two seconds? It’s giving me a headache and everyone is sick of your bullshit .”

“Damn, she snapped.”

Matt raised his eyebrows in shock for a second at the little tirade she went on, but he- infuriatingly- nodded.

“Sorry, Andrea. And everyone. Look, I’m- I’m trying. And I’ll try harder to be more… mature.”

Lele wanted to roll her eyes and spit an insult at him- as if he wasn’t an immature baby at some point- or at all points- during his life. But she was not going to let him be the bigger person. So instead of a scathing insult, she  simply narrowed her eyes at him and took a deep, deep breath. She didn’t… she didn’t know if she even wanted to make amends with him, because for some fucking reason there was a certain feeling of like… that she felt comfortable fighting with him. 

Like in all this shit that was happening, their dynamic- it stayed the same. Through everything. 

And maybe… god, maybe that kept her grounded in a way. All she knew was that when she looked at Matt, she saw a confused mess of infuriation, peculiarity, and so much other shit who knew each and every button to press that could set her off and she hated him, but in some… in some fucked-up way he was important. The day she stopped arguing with Matt… where they extended an olive branch, or even if he just disappeared… that felt more strange and foreign than so much of the other shit that had happened to her. And that thought scared her, scared her more than she thought it could.

“Lele?”

She shook herself out of her Matt-related thoughts- ew- and looked up at the rest of the group, who seemed to be expecting her to say something.

“Yeah. Kumbayah all all that shit. Whatever. Can I get on with the stupid story now?” Lele tried to hide her embarrassment, but she could almost feel Matt giving her that strange look of his that he was wearing all the time.

Andrea blinked. “Yeah, of course.”

“So we found this madman all tied up in a straitjacket- totally not a hottie, by the way-”

And so for maybe the next thirty minutes or so Lele recollected to nightmarish hallucination trip, from Vincent to ‘Plants vs. Zombies but it’s real life now and Oli forgot the map and fell over hahaha’ to the WWE to Joey being a dumdum with riddles and Eva slowly losing her sanity (everyone seemed to be completely unsurprised by this turn of events) to the masked, mouthless samurai freakazoid to being slashed out of the hallucination (which she, admittedly, made sound cooler than it actually was) to the final death challenge.

“We all didn’t want to vote each other in. So we all voted ourselves in… and let the cards draw our fate.”

“Why didn’t we do that in the first place?” Andrea asked quietly.

“Because a lot of us wouldn’t have been brave enough, I don’t think. I know… I know I wouldn’t be. I still might not be.” Sierra murmured the last part, almost as if in shame. She ducked her head, her glittery tiara hanging a little looser in her gelled brown curls.

“I think you are brave.”

The reassurance came from an unexpected and certainly unwelcome source- Matt, of all people. He had some nerve, even talking to her after how badly he screwed her over-

“No shame in not wanting to die… I mean, if you managed to handle seances, a coffin burial- sorry again, Justine- and that whole chase thing with the guardian I’d say you’re braver than a good few people.”

Matt shrugged, offering her one of his rare smiles from where he was sitting with Tim, Andrea, and Shane.

“Thanks, Matt.” Sierra’s reaction was subdued, which was unusual for her, but she straightened up. She returned his smile, too.

“Guys, that was adorable. ” Tim smiled, patting Matt on the knee all friendly-like. “But you’re still not replacing my ship.”

“What’s your ship, again?” Justine squinted. Lele was about to screech at her to stop encouraging him but he’d been set off, and now the world was doomed.

“Mele, obviously. But don’t get me wrong, I support your guys’ friendship. Anyway, do you guys wanna hear the song about Matt and Lele I’ve been silently composing in my head for the past twenty-ish minutes?”

“NO!” Lele and Matt screamed almost at the exact  same time. Lele wished she had a knife so she could poke it into whatever part of his dumb brain came up with the idea of ‘Mele’ and remove it from the universe forever.

Thank god Matt was at least pretending he didn’t have a thing for her. 

“God, sorry! Geez. Well, fine, just disregard my talents! Whatever!”

“Talents.” Justine said, accompanied by obnoxious finger quotes and an eye roll. Lele was proud of her.

“Okay anyway, we all voted ourselves in and of course, my motherfuckin’ name gets pulled because life just hates me. And you already know how it went- Oli got voted in too, and even though I got to pick first I had to pick a partner of the opposite gender so I got Joey by default. And I died. The end.”

“What a great story.” Shane said.

“What was the challenge, though?” Justine pried. Lele honestly… Lele didn’t want to talk about the dumb challenge. And she especially didn’t want to talk about her hallucinations, because when she thought about those- seeing things that weren’t there, seeing all these people in front of her as chained-up horrors- well, that chilled her to the bone like a ruthless blizzard on the coldest day of winter.

“It was… like ring toss.” she started, carefully.

“Oh, I would be a failure at that so maybe I should be glad I died.” GloZell remarked.

“Ring toss? Seems pretty… juvenile. For a death challenge, I mean. Not to disrespect ring toss or anything, but…” Andrea pursed her lips, looking up at her with curious eyes.

Lele took a deep, almost shuddery breath, forcing her mind to just… to just try and not take her back there, back into that.. That goddamn chair…

She was about to try and give Andrea an answer without looking weak, and she was about to take the leap before-

“Well, I don’t wanna take the words out of your mouth but I’m assuming whoever got the most rings on the rods that were in the basement saved their partner, right? And Joey failed?”

Matt had said it.

“Know-it-all.” she snapped. Then she paused. Because even though he was probably just being a show-off… what if he hadn’t? What if he’d seen the look in her eyes and took the words out of her mouth before she could say it?

She startled herself with that assumption… that she had done something she never thought possible. For a second, she’d assumed the best in him. For a second- no. No, he was just trying to be smart. Wasn’t he? Of course he was.

“But.. yes.” She would’ve yelled at herself for not ripping into him again, but she owed him this courtesy. Because whether intentionally or not, he’d explained her shit for her and that was… helpful.

God, what was happening?

Still, there was one bit of the story that was missing.

Two bits, actually.

“Um… we got shocked. Every time our partner missed a ring, we got shocked by the electric chair.”

A collective chill seemed to pass through the group. In each of their eyes, there was some kind of combination of fear, pity, shock… she didn’t want those things. She didn’t want to be seen as some kind of tamed creature, she was supposed to be strong, wasn’t she? She’d but on such a brave face before, such a hardened, strong exterior… she had to keep that up. She had to be that tough girl, that fierce warrior who didn’t let anything get taken from her-

She had to be the lioness, not the gazelle.

“Lele- that’s… you.. You were-” Sierra stuttered, eyes widening. 

“Tortured.” Shane murmured. “God, Lele, I can’t even imagine-”

“It wasn’t even that bad.” Lele heard herself saying. “They were like, the shocks that you get on slides in playgrounds.”

That was a lie. A flat-out lie.

It had hurt like hell, but… she had to be strong. She had to be.

Everyone was still looking at her doubtfully. Sierra still looked terrified, Shane looked skeptical, and of course Matt, being a creep, was looking at her, almost trying to probe her. All of a sudden she wished she hadn’t taken a place at the center of the room. She suddenly felt like she was under a spotlight- alone and vulnerable.

“That still doesn’t explain why you were screamin’ when we found you in the basement, if the shocks were as… little as you said.” GloZell murmured, almost tentatively.

“Don’t treat me like some sick baby, guys. I’m fine. And I was screaming because- because the whole challenge was some sick experiment to see if electric shocks could… cure a person of hallucinations. And the loser was whoever failed to learn.”

“So…”

“So I.. may have had some… minor hallucinations.”

“What?” Sierra screeched.

“So that’s why the clue- oh my god.” Shane muttered to himself.

Matt just looked down. Infuriatingly unreadable.

“Oh my god.” Andrea cupped a hand over her mouth.

“Are you- I mean, are you okay? Do you need any kind of medical help, are you-”

“I’m fine!” Lele snapped.

Sierra, who she had cut off, recoiled her hand, looking scared and shocked, hurt pooling beneath her eyes. White-hot shame immediately flooded Lele’s system.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.”

“It’s okay. I didn’t mean to be-to be pushy.”

“You weren’t being pushy, I just- I don’t wanna talk about this shit, okay?”

“Of course.” Sierra nodded, and pulled her into a gentle hug.

“And that’s how the story ends.” Lele said, after pulling away. “I don’t know anything that happened after I- after I died.”

She silently cursed herself for that stutter.

After that, Shane, Andrea, GloZell, and Sierra mostly briefed her, Tim, and mlegh  on the very little they knew. She learned how the spirit board and such worked, and she got really bored until they mentioned that they’d found who the traitor was.

She’d shot up instantly at that.

“Is it Matt? Five imaginary dollars says it was Matt.” she jabbed a finger at him.

“Why would it be me? If they knew it was me, I think they would’ve beaten me up.”

“ Ugh. ” was all the response she had to give to that.

“Match made in heaven.”

“SHUT UP, TIM.”

“Okay shut up all of you. It was the staff. Yknow, the butler and all of the other ones.”

“Oh my god, we’re all idiots!” Tim yelled. “How did we not get that?”

“Of course it is. It’s always the staff.”Matt muttered.

“Well, that’s bullshit and they suck. But I mean, I’m not worried. If Arthur, Sarah, and Marvin are all that’s stopping them from escaping, it should probably be pretty easy to escape, right? Sarah’s like a twig, and Marvin’s old and creepy. Granted, Arthur looks like he’s pretty in-shape but like, strength in numbers, so.” Lele rambled. She was worried… but she also had to be faithful that Eva, Oli, and Joey would manage to kill them. Somehow.

“I mean, Marvin’s pretty strong. I would know, since he body-gripped me pretty aggressively before I was-”

“-Maybe you shouldn’t mention it?” Andrea interrupted. Some kind of energy seemed to pass between them.

“I mean, sure. But it was just to make them squirm a little.”

Andrea responded with an amused scoff.

“Well, we’ll just have to believe that they can all do it. Eva’s really smart, Oli’s strong, and Joey- well, he… he can run fast, so I suppose that’ll help.” Sierra said, squaring her shoulders.

“Mhm.” everyone either nodded or voiced their agreement.

“So… that’s pretty much it.” Shane shrugged.

Awkward silence. Everyone looked kind of lost, until GloZell vocalized exactly what everyone was currently wondering.

“Well, what the here do we do now?”

“What the here? ” Justine squinted at her.

“Well, the expression is usually ‘what the hell’ but I figure we’re in hell right now so I really don’ know what to say.”

“You can just say ‘what the hell.’ No one will care.”

“Okay, cool. What the hell do we do now?”

“Well, I think that since we have, hopefully, the maximum amount of dead people here- well, unless Eva, Oli, and Joey fuck it up royally- we can go back to the green clock cabinet and finally open that goddamn cupboard.” Shane said. As if Lele was supposed to understand what the hell he was talking about.

“Excuse me, um, what exactly is this green cabinet thing?” Lele asked Shane, crossing her arms.

“Oh, you’ll see when we get there. It’s just near the stairs.”

“Cool, so I don’t have to trek up any more flights?”

“Uh, nope. For the time being.”

So the group went out to the clock, where Sierra quickly briefed Lele that the green cabinet underneath had two long handles, with each handle split into four parts. There was one part to be pushed down for each person who had died, and so there were three left in order to open the cabinet. This task, of course, fell to her , Tim and Matt.

And there they were, waiting for Matt to pass through and crank his down.

“So do I just push it to the left?”

“Yes, Matt, it’s not rocket science. Just push the handle.” Lele snapped.

“Oh my god woman, it’s just rusty.” he fired back, before him skinny arms finally pushed it down. A schoolbell shimmered across its surface as it connected with the other pole-part that had already been pushed, which obviously belonged to Sierra.

‘Cause it had a crown.

Tim pushed his down next, and was, for some reason, excited when a vintage handgun gleamed on it.

“That’s cool.” he said, backing out of the way for Lele to do her thing.

“You died ‘cause of a gun that looks literally exactly like that one does, ya weirdo.” Andrea responded.

“Yeah, but it looks cool so isn’t that all that matters?”

“I’m gonna say no.”

“I mean, to each their own.”

Lele rolled her eyes and pushed hers down, smiling at the shiny coin shimmering on its handle. It landed in place with a satisfying click and she had just enough time to take a couple of steps back  before each symbol started to glow with a flashing, shimmering, amber light.

“Oh my god, it’s gonna explode! We’re all gonna die!”

“We’re already dead , Tim.”

“We’re gonna be dead times two!”

As Tim was ranting about double-death and how he wanted his afterlife to be greater than this, Lele noticed that the flashing had stopped with a soft click that came from nowhere identifiable.

“Guys, does this mean we can open the cabinet?” Sierra asked.

“It better, because it makes no goshdarn sense for it not to. I mean, It didn’t make sense when we pushed the first four down, an’ that didn’t work either!” GloZell complained.

Sierra patted her gently on the arm.

“Alright, who wants to open it?” Shane asked the group.

“Not me!” Sierra vanished into the back.

“I think you should do it, Shane. Y’know, end where it began and all that.” Andrea said.

“You just don’t wanna do it.” he snapped back at her.

“I will neither confirm nor deny the accuracy of that statement.”

“Quit actin’ like children and open the dang cabinet already!” GloZell waved her cane over at the two of them.

“Not it.” Andrea stepped away.

Shane sighed, and Lele stepped back so he could do his thing. Carefully, as if it might actually explode, Lele watched as Shane tentatively gripped the two handles and heaved the dark green cabinet open for what was probably the first time in a long time. It made a loud, squeaky creak that sounded like a goat being mutilated.

“What’s inside? If there’s nothing in there I’m gonna start a purgatory law firm and sue that cabinet’s ass.”

“Tim, that’s a stupid plan.” Sierra responded.

“ You’re a stupid plan.” 

“That doesn’t even make sense…”

“Alright shut up guys, the cabinet’s not empty. There’s a bunch of junk in here- oh, wait no it’s shiny junk. Actually, it’s probably new. I mean, somehow.”

“Guys, this house has ghosts.” Justine yelped.

“Yeah, no doi. It has us in it.”

Shane flapped his hand at Justine (probably some half-assed gesture of ‘be quiet.’ And stuck his hands into the cabinet, coming out with a handful of dainty-looking metal charms.

“Oooh, shiny.” Lele said, with a grin. Before Shane could stop her, she grabbed a few of them, looking them over to see what they were. A schoolbell, a gun, and, for some reason, one that she was almost- attracted to. Like a magnet.

It was in the shape of a coin.

“Hey, guys, all these little charms seem to be the same as the symbols on the handles.”

“And also there’s this note.” Shane said, flourishing it for everyone to see.

“Piece of paper. Real exciting. Now what does it say?” GloZell asked.

“Congratulations!!! If you’re reading this note, all of your friends have survived the night and thus the clock is still and this cabinet is open. This is my last gift to you- each of you have a little charm. They’re so cute! Anyway, I’m sure you’re wondering where you’ll be sleeping and stuff, and I’m glad you asked! These charms are all infused with a bit of a surprise- one last gift from me. Put them on the ground in the room you want to live in, and then leave for about thirty seconds.

I’m so sorry you all died.

-Anonymus (If you’re Shane, which I hope you are, you know who I am)

“Wait, so these things are magical? They look like christmas ornaments.” Lele tapped one gently.

“Well, it sounds like we put our own charm in the room we want to sleep in.” Shane said, as she started handing people their ornaments. Lele looked down at her own, figuring she was holding hers, Tim’s, and Matt’s. So she just kind of threw them in their general direction, mostly because she didn’t care about them having nice rooms.

Unfortunately, they both managed to catch them.

“Okay, I call the dining room.” Justine said, immediately striding off. GloZell grabbed her arm to stop her amid sounds of protest.

“You can’t have the dining room, it’s for… y’know, dining?” GloZell told her.

“Can you pick a room that’s slightly smaller?” Shane said.

“Oh, so you guys want me to be in a small space ? Again?”

Awkward silence fell over the group. Tim opened his mouth as if to protest but didn’t say anything, so he just kind of looked like a dummy.

Which really wasn’t a difference from that he usually looked like.

“No one is saying that, Justine.” Andrea said.

“Sure they aren’t.”

“Maybe you could aim a little… lower. Like the secret room GloZell mentioned. That’s pretty big, isn’t it? And you’d have lots of privacy.”

Justine seemed to think it over before nodding.

“Yeah, I can deal with that.”

Lele wasn’t entirely sure where she wanted to place her room. All she knew was that she wanted to be as far away from Matt as possible.

“Okay guys, we all know how this works?” Shane said, looking around at everyone. They gave assenting nods.

“Alright, let’s go room-hunting, then!”

Everyone split off into separate little factions- quite a few people went to look around at the options upstairs, a few people stayed down, GloZell went to show Justine where the secret room was. Lele, personally, headed off down a separate corridor, looking in rooms and then out of them again. Nothing was working for her so far, so she would around another corner and was just doing some assessing when suddenly-

“Lele.”

She whirled around, holding her Hustler charm up shakily  like it was some kind of weapon. Her eyes darted panickingly from right to left before she settled on Matt, who had spoken to her from the end of the hallway.

“God, it’s just you.”

“Just me?” he responded, with an eyebrow raised. Figured you’d by trying to crucify me.”

“Well, don’t push your luck. Why are you stalking me?”

“I’m not, not everything I do involves you.”

“Might as well, since you can’t stop checking me out.”

“I’m not, I’m just trying to find a room . God, you give him a hard time and trust me, I hate it too, but you’re honestly worse than Tim  is.”

Lele rolled her eyes.

“Okay, look. Coincidence or not a coincidence, I wanted to talk to you.”

“Um, why?” she raised an eyebrow at him. “First of all, I don’t like you, and second of all, you don’t like me. Third of all, every time I look at you I’m barely fighting the urge to slap you again.”

He gave her a short glare.

“Okay, I know usually we’re trying to kill each other but I can tell something’s up with you.”

“You don’t know anything, shithead.” Lele fired back as quickly as his words had been received, but still, that little trickle of… something squirmed into her brain. That new, horrible part that wondered if Matt was genuinely trying to be kind to her.

He let out an exasperated sigh, which only made her angrier.

“Look, I’m not an idiot-”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“-And I can see that something’s up with you. You snapped at Sierra. And I know you snap at everyone, especially me, but Sierra and Eva were like- two of your best friends in the house. I don’t get it, what happened?”

“Shut up.” Lele tried to keep her cool, but she could feel hot rage and panic starting to fuel in her chest.

“And you seem to be acting- jittery. I don’t get it.”

“Stop.” She clenched her fists.

“And you seemed completely normal before Andrea got up and made us stop fighting, and after that you seemed to start getting more- nervous. You keep staring at me, you keep looking at everyone like they’re going to attack you or something.”

“Matt.” she had to keep her voice from shaking.

“And there’s no way that a goddamn electric chair would have a playground-level shock, Lele. By some miracle you might’ve been able to convince a few of them, but those things are torture devices.”

This time she didn’t say anything, she was just desperately trying to get his voice out of her head-

“And hallucinations, Lele?” He was yelling now. “ I saw what was happening to you, you were terrified. You were screaming, I’ve never seen you that scared and suddenly you just choose to blow it off, act like it’s no big deal? What is going on?”

“ What’s going on is that I’m weak!” Lele screamed at him, feeling that rage inside her boil up and explode. “I have spent this entire night being strong, being brave, being just so fucking agressive and confident that even though some people hated me, I could look at myself and see someone who was a total boss. I was so sure I was going to survive. Because I had everything in my control, I had my fights, I had my allies, I- I had my shit together in a situation where everyone was scared shitless and I wasn’t scared because I was the only person in power of what I was doing. And then- and then I get voted into a challenge where I’m tied down like some- some fucking animal and I have to put my fate in someone else’s hands, and now I’m dead!”

She took a deep, shuddering breath before continuing.

“And at first- at first I feel like everything was still normal, because even after those- those fucking hallucinations, everything was the same. We were still fighting, everyone seemed to look at me like I was someone strong, someone that I felt like I was- I was worthy of being, and then we get to sitting down and suddenly you and I are suddenly completely different than before because now we’re trying to make peace or some bullshit, and when I start going on about the challenge everyone looks at me and treats me like I’m some- some victim.  And the worst part is that I am a fucking victim, for the first time tonight, and god, everything I felt before just seems like a goddamn act because right now I’m more scared than I thought I could ever be and I don’t understand why and- and- I-”

Lele trailed off on her last sentence, suddenly feeling out of breath, out of focus, out of energy. She slumped against the table, scowling furiously. Not only did she give the most pitiful speech ever, but she gave it to Matt of all people. 

“You really feel that way?”

He didn’t even sound shocked. Just… god, she didn’t know. He sounded like Matt.

“Shut- shut up.” she muttered bitterly. But there was no substance. She’d burned herself out.

“Okay, look. When I came down here, I didn’t feel good about myself either-”

“I don’t want your sob story. And I don’t want a fucking pep talk.” she snapped dully at him.

“Then what do you want?”

“I want you to go away.”

She slumped onto a chair, burying her head in her hands. She listened carefully though, hearing the blissful sound of his annoyed sigh and his shoes slowly click-clacking toward the end of the hall- before he paused, and.. turned back.

“Alright, fine. You don’t want a pep talk. You don’t want a story. Well, I’m going to give you honesty.”

Lele groaned. The last thing she wanted right now was for Matt to kick her while she was down.

“Look, Lele. I think you’re unbearable-”

“Great way to start.” Lele interjected.

“-Unbearable, and that’s because of who you are as a person. You’re cocky, you’re overdramatic, you’re pushy, you’re loud, and you’re probably way too confident. And that’s why I don’t like you- but those things are who you are- y’know, deep down. You can’t lose those-  you’re just not used to being in a place where you can be vulnerable, where you don’t have to fight. Because you don’t have to put up that face anymore. Just because some bad shit happened to you- that doesn’t make you weak. If anything, you’re making yourself weak by getting into your own head.”

Lele drew her head out from the little guest table. As much as she didn’t want them to- his words hit home. Huh . He really had been honest.

“Do you think you’re ready to… talk about the hallucinations?”

Lele shuddered. “No. God no. I’m honestly trying to take you seriously for once, but I don’t want to think about those ever again.”

She looked up at him, and raised her eyebrows when she noticed that he was nodding in understanding.

“I get it. I don’t wanna think about how I failed Sierra or had my-”

“-Slump where you turned into a dirtbag shithole who all of us wanted to kill because of his absolutely dumpy, trash attitude and unforgivable uselessness?”

“Well I mean, I would call it more of a ‘stint of depression’ but you do you.” 

Lele snickered.

“Wait, I realized something.”

“What, did you finally hit puberty?”

“Ha-ha. I meant that we had a whole conversation without threatening to kill each other.”

“Ew.”

“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing.”

For the first time, Lele willingly looked him in his beady lil’ eyes. Then, they both let out a tiny laugh. Well, it was more of a scoff.

“I still hate you, by the way.” Lele said. But still, she found her face forced into a little smirk.

“Yeah, what’s new?” Matt rolled his eyes.

“Nothing. Nothing’s new. Because the old Lele’s back and she’s stronger than ever.”

“Well, that’s good. Wouldn’t want my honesty to go to waste.”

Lele smirked.

“Why’d you even come to talk to me about my shit? And how did you know it would work?”

“Well, first of all, because honesty worked for me, and well, I helped because it’s no fun sparring without a partner.”

“You’re such a dork. And from now on you’re getting no more of my sentiment. I am staying as far away from you as possible.”

“You call that sentiment? I call it brutality.”

“Yeah, because you’re uneducated.”

Matt let out one of his stupid, dumb smiles.

“Back to normal?”

“Hm. I think I am. Or at least as normal as I can get in this cursed hellscape disguised as a mansion.”

“That’s fair.”

“Mhm.”

“Yknow, I hate you, you controlling narcissist.” he said.

“And I can’t wait to drown you in the pool, you unhelpful jerk. Now get out before I make you leave.”

He sighed overdramatically and flipped her off before heading upstairs.

She rolled her eyes at him, and that weight on her shoulders, that discomfort- it was replaced with something she’d always had- something she always would have.

Power.

She eventually decided on the basement, specifically the room Sierra had been killed in. Was it creepy? Yes. Did it have cobwebs? Obviously. But she took it for two reasons- a), she could have plenty of privacy and b) it was as far away from Matt as possible. She hadn’t seen, but she heard he had taken the topmost place in the house, which she found ridiculous, because it was tiny, but maybe he meant for it to correspond to the size of his brain. You never know.

Anyway, she had placed her charm in the room and went out, internally counting to 30 in her head. She gave it four extra seconds because she thought magic wasn’t exactly the most reliable thing in the world. It wasn’t because she’d seen a spider and spent an extra four seconds crushing it with her heel.

Carefully, she opened her door, prepared for any shit to happen. Prepared for a jump-scare or maybe Matt stalking her again.

But no.

It was gorgeous.

The once dusty walls had been wiped clean to shining marble stone, lit off by warm, welcoming chandeliers. A soft, downy carpet covered the floor. An extravagant four-posted awaited her, along with a large oak dresser which looked like it was filled to the brim with outfits- and the best part. On the desk was a jewelry box, bursting to the brim with pearls, jewels, necklaces and bracelets, earrings and ribbons and clips, all sorts of wonderfully shiny things that looked like they would be worth a fortune. She smiled up at the room, silently thanking the magic for, well, everything.

She could work with this.

She could work with, well… all of it.

Chapter Text

Sunrise.

It almost seemed like a dream- but it truly wasn’t. Little beams of light were filtering through the endless hills behind the gate,  cracking through the darkness as if it were a fragile porcelain figure. The house that had stayed in a perpetual eclipse for so long was gradually starting to get drenched in pure molten gold, lighting up the darkened rooftops and sending joyous rays straight through the pleated glass.

Shane Dawson was in the living room. He’d abandoned his room- which was full of leather-grunge but still comfy stuff with a desk, some edgy scrolls, and a few bullet-less rifles- (he loved it, he’d just come back for it later) and was in the middle of getting snacks to hoard when he saw it. When he did, he screamed- not in fright, as they all had for so long- but in pure joy.

“Guys, look! C’mere, it’s the sun!It’s coming up!” he shouted, as he quickly fumbled at the front door. His mission- he had failed, but they all succeeded. There was no explanation otherwise. Despite all the deception, the trickery, and the needless death- the evil was gone. He could finally rest, because he’d completed the most important thing he would ever do. Y’know, other than get a million subscribers on YouTube. But that wasn’t the point. He was just thankful. Because not only did he, a middle-aged man with a food problem and a dirty house, manage to guide the three YouTubers that made it out to victory, but he managed to help guide the people who had died-hopefully- to a place about as peaceful as you could get.

~

Andrea Brooks was in the guest room, right down a few small corridors on the second floor. She was still sprucing up the place she’d chosen as her bedroom- though she loved it all the same. She just wanted to add her own personal touch, since it had been nicely decorated for her. She silently thanked the ghost that did it, because she loved the whispery black and silver aspects of her room, the canopy bed that felt like a cloud, the luscious vanity, the beautiful oak closet- it was a dream. As Joey called it, the “dark mistress” look was everywhere. She dug it. Plus, there was a tube of dark red lipstick on the dresser. She LOVED dark red lipstick. It was her colour.

She was immersing herself in all of that when she heard Shane’s call. For a split second she didn’t believe it before she closed her tube (carefully, she wasn’t an animal) and pressed her face up against the window. And- light! Andrea didn’t know how much she’d missed it, but she’d been down here in the dark black night for so long that true light- not artificial light- was like a glass of lemonade on a hot summer’s day to her. Before she even knew what was happening, she let out an excited squeal, like she was five again, and raced out the door. She wasn’t useless. In the end, she did contribute to this, this final goal. Even though she and her best friend had died to get there.  She remembered the beginning of the night, when she thought to herself that she’d rather die than be stuck in 1920. And she was honestly inclined to laugh. It was a double-sided statement, wasn’t it? Oh, well. The 1920’s weren’t so bad. After all, the light shining over the horizon came with the feeling of new hope- and with new hope came a life that, hey, she could get used to. 

~

Justine Ezarik was in the biggest room she could claim without a total riot, and that was the library. After the worst claustrophobia experience in the history of ever, she argued that she had a very strong right to the biggest room. And after the dispute that she couldn’t have the entire first floor, she was pretty happy with the library, all things considered. It was big, and cozy, and she had a canopy bed with tons of pillows. She was in paradise- and the best part? The games. A dartboard, countless card sets, poker chips, and a huge, round table that could fit everyone. She was definitely gonna be organizing some game nights- and if they argued, she could play the pity card- but who would argue with some good-old gambling fun? Justine was so thankful for her role. The afterlife would be so BORING without some entertainment, and even though they couldn’t bet money since there wasn’t any (Tim had looked) they were gonna be doing some loser punishments, like getting dunked in the pool or- well, they could think of more things.

Of course she saw the light coming through the window. She’d been sorting out her decks of cards (the room had come with like, six- which was probably good since Tim was probably gonna keep stealing the heart cards to make love letters for- what was it he called them? Mele? So she was just stacking them when she saw- light. And not from the lamps, from the windows. At first she’d thought it was a trick- that she was either hallucinating or people were pranking her, but when she heard Shane cry out, she knew it was real. It gave her goosebumps, the thought- was the night truly over? That meant- that meant Eva and Oli had survived. 

And that got her thinking- was her life worth it? 

No, of course not-but at least they’d locked the evil away. In the end, if had been their victory- and maybe her death saved more people from sharing her same fate. That made her feel a little better, that she kinda-sorta saved the world? Maybe? Oh, well, a girl could dream. And she’d miss little things. Like her phone, and fast food, and cars, and modern tech, and most of all- she’d miss Joey. She knew the others didn’t think much of him but he was truly her best friend. She silently let out a thank-you to whoever was up there controlling what happened in the world. Thank you for sparing my best friend. 

Justine raced out the door, and nearly ran straight into Andrea in a sputter of fabric and hair. They both gasped and laughed as they stepped back, Andrea clearly trying to catch her breath.

“They did it.” she said, breathlessly.

“Yeah.” Justine responded. She then just got a sudden lump of emotion in her throat, and gave Andrea a tight hug. It was stupid, but she felt a breath of relief when she returned it.

“Thank you for forgiving me.” 

“Thank you for not killing my best friend.”

“No promises.”

They shared a quick laugh, and pulled apart. Then, it was a race to the front door. Shane was already out. As Justine made her way down the winding stone pathways, staring up at the sky,  she had one thought, that she kept to herself.

Even though this was a death game… I’m lucky I managed to make a few friends. Friends for life… well, death.

Ha.

~

GloZell Green was in… some room. She hadn’t exactly felt like going into any other rooms, even though everyone seemed to be getting all nostalgic and going into a room that was important to them. Or, in Shane’s case, being a mannequin creeper and being irrationally disappointed when the orgy hadn’t transferred well into the Renegade Decor. But not GloZell. Nope, she was all ‘bout new beginnings and so she picked a totally random room that looked big enough for her big-ass booty and had acoustics good enough for her big-ass voice. Either way, she wanted to give this house all the blessings because when she checked back in her room, there was a stage! With little lightbulbs and curtains and everything!  Plus, an old-timey stereo for busting out jazz hits and a sparkly four-poster, but- c’mon. She got a stage. If anything, that was the one true blessing being dead had given her. 

Well, maybe she was being a bit overdramatic- but that was her thing.

When she heard Shane’s call ring out through the house, it almost felt like a firecracker exploded in GloZell’s heart. Because they’d done it! Some how the little ragtag group that was left had made it out, even though they didn’t have her beautiful angel jazz voice to guide them out. And really, that was okay. Because she actually liked it here after being cooped up inside the house so long. It was still really pretty, and she had a whole bunch of friends there who could act as her own personal audience members. And Joey… oh, maybe Joey wasn’t… the worst. He would be getting a cane to the head if she ever saw him again but she supposed he hadn’t been all bad. Other than being a dumdum and inviting them all to an episode of Whodunnit? With demons and time-travel.  And actual murder.

She ran down the stairs, whooping for joy as sunlight lit up the sequins on her outfit. Bursting open the doors, GloZell felt warm light hit her straight in the face and boy, did she miss it.

-

Sierra Furtado liked everything orderly. She didn’t have OCD or anything, but she preferred that things be neat and pretty, a bit like her. So she was delighted when  her tiara charm, placed right in the center of a large guest room on the third floor, spawned a gorgeous room that it seemed like a princess would sleep in- Sierra almost hadn’t believed it was hers. There were glittering chandeliers above her, with a fluffy white carpet and a massive four-poster with lace curtains and a mattress that made her feel like she was sleeping on her own personal cloud. There was a closet and vanity as well, of course. She’d spent, like, 45 minutes dragging Lele up to her room so she could try the massive selection of Heiress outfits she’d been given. And oh, the tiaras! She’d been happy with just the one, but now she had a whole drawer-full! She could gush about the jewelry for days. Unfortunately, the flashlight-necklace seemed to be here to stay, which kind of took away from the other necklaces, but that was okay. The light seemed to flare up when she got emotional about things, or panicky, or just too excited. It was like a mood ring. Call her materialistic, but it was really nice to have something to be excited about rather than sad. It made for a really nice change.

She’d been sorting tiaras from ‘glittery-est to ‘most metallic’ when she nearly went blind. At first she’d thought that she’d just accidentally gotten subconsciously excited and the flashlight-necklace had flared into her eyes, but no… it was something else. Light, catching on the edge of a diamond she’d been holding. And not lamplight… a sunbeam. And then she heard the yell from Shane, and nearly dropped her tiara.

Sierra knew what this meant- of course she did. It meant that… they’d succeeded. They’d succeeded! Sierra squealed, clapping her hands together excitedly. Of course she loved Joey and Oli, but Eva… she was so happy Eva had made it out. Even if Lele deserved to live, so did she. And so did the other two, probably, since they’d made it out. She flew down the steps, and as she did she couldn’t help thinking… she was voted out because she was weak. She hadn’t even believed in herself… she knew she was weak. But now she felt like there was a little flame burning inside her, warm and bright and strong. And she didn’t think that flame was going to go out anytime soon.

She smiled to herself as she ran down to the basement to get Lele.

I wish they could see me now.  

-

Matt Haag had decided to stay as far away from everybody else as possible. He sounded completely and total anti-social (which, really, he was) but he didn’t need a big room. He just wanted a nice space where he could be away from all the noise and the hustle… and he may have heard Lele was sleeping in the basement, so he positioned herself as far away as her as possible. Lele. She still confused him more than any person had in his life. 

His room wasn’t anything special- it was small, with a small nook full of books and a little oak desk in the corner with a ton of fresh, old-style parchment. There was  also a small blackboard in the corner, which was fun. His bed was a single crammed into a separate bit of the room, away from the door, with a soft, wooly blanket. The room was lit up by a lovely ornate lamp and a small light in the roof. There was standing room, but not much. It could only fit maybe four people tops, something which was completely fine with him.

He also had a neat little circle-window at the end of the room… and so that was how he saw the first little rays of light creeping in from the outside. With a gasp, he ran over to the window and fussily opened it, sticking his head out. Immediately, he was bathed in sunlight. He pulled his head back in, blinking spots out of his vision. They’d… won. The sun was rising, so they wouldn’t be trapped in the night forever. It was simple… but he almost felt.. Numb. He wasn’t shocked, or surprised. Happy, of course, but he wasn’t taken aback by the sight. Maybe because that was because he knew that Eva, Oli, and Joey would never give up and spiral like he had.

Matt sprang up, nearly hitting his head on the roof, and awkwardly bounded down the steps, a smile cracking through. 

He still felt it creeping in, sometimes… that cold, desolate quiet that hummed in his ears and shut him down into a hopeless nothing again. But then… it was brushed back.  Because the light from the sun was warm, and the people around him were there to chase the darkness away whenever he slipped into it.

-

Timothy DeLaghetto was (at the moment) trying to clean off a gun.

It was weird, but he found it kind of relaxing. 

Why did he have a gun, somebody might ask?

Because his room came with, like, a wall of them. From old-style rifles to handguns to a bunch of other guns that he was too uneducated to know about, the Mobster room was pretty great. Apart from the fact that none of the guns actually fired. Which, in retrospect, was something he should have seen coming.

Anyway, his room came with a full roster of checkered suits and ties and cool hats and it was pretty nice, all in all. He still missed his old room, though, especially because this new one didn’t have a cat in it. What a scam. But no, it was nice. It just needed a little bit of time to feel… y’know, homey. 

At the very least, he was happy both with the house size and the company, especially. There were going to be a ton of fights in the near future, and of course there was Mele to be shipped and Tim Day to be celebrated. Plus, Andrea was here. So overall, he was pretty excited for the future. He just hoped eventually dead-land could whip up, like, a McDonald’s. Because he could only survive off vegetables and non-modern food for so long.

He could also use some sunlight, which conveniently started streaming in the minute he thought about it.

At first he just continued on with his business, because he really didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. The sun came up all the time in the real world. And then he conveniently realized he wasn’t in the real world and that this was actually important. Also, there was lots of yelling around, so- yay!

He ran down the stairs like one of those really excited kids on Christmas morning, almost feeling like he’d succeeded at something, which he sort of had, because he helped Eva not die, and sort of hadn’t because he died doing that. Ah, well. It was a… 51% victory. And hey, at least 51% was better than 50.

“HERE COMES THE SUN, MOTHERFUCKERS!” Tim yelled, surging out the door onto the hill, basking in the shocked/amused looks he got from the people who were already outside.

He was never gonna get tired of those looks. He’d embraced them.

Here comes the sun, motherfuckers, indeed. 

-

Lele Pons was actually loving the basement. She was far away from Matt, she had a nice room, it was always cool, and there were a bunch of rooms full of fun doohickeys she could hit Tim over the head with. The only thing she wasn’t so fond of was that she was kind of… out of touch with the other people in the house. It wasn’t the most horrible thing in the world, but Lele liked to be in the loop. (No, scratch that, she was the loop.)

Emotionally, though, she wasn’t sure where she stood. She had friends in Sierra and GloZell, Justine and Andrea were… cool, Tim was an annoying piece of shit, Shane was… there, and then of course there was Matt. There was always Matt. Getting in the way of everything. And now he’d gone and done something… nice for her. Something that actually helped her. She wished he could just disappear forever, and at the same time… 

She tried to focus her energy on something else. When she started thinking about Matt, it was like she was submerging deeper and deeper into a rabbit hole of confusion and pain and then she would just sit there for three hours looking like an idiot.

Thankfully, death-land blessed her with a… very important distraction. A pretty goddamn great distraction.

“Lele!” she turned her head to hear rushed click-clacking and a few ‘oofs.’ ...Sierra. Guess she wouldn’t be starved for visitors. She got up, reluctantly slipping her shoes back on. It sounded kind of urgent.

“Sierra, is someone dying again? Because I hope it’s Matt.” 

“No, no…” Sierra stopped at the doorway, taking a moment to catch her breath. “The sun’s coming up.”

“So?”

“ So, they did it. They’re not trapped in 1920. The night’s over.”

Lele slowly felt a smile creep onto her face. It didn’t feel real.

“Wait, really? Seriously?” 

“Seriously.” Sierra nodded excitedly.

Lele wrapped her in a quick hug, laughing a little more giddily than she’d like to admit.

“We- we gotta get up there, we have to see this!”

“Yeah, yeah we do!” Sierra responded, blinking excitedly.

“C’mon!” Lele grabbed Sierra’s hand, and, feeling almost like a- spring in her step, she bounded up the stairs. In retrospect, she hoped that Sierra was okay. She was running pretty damn fast and she didn’t intend to stop running until she plowed straight into none other than… Matt.

“Ow… motherfucker, why’d you run into me?” She realized that she was- straight pushed-up against him. And she stayed there for one embarrassing second before jumping away like he had the plague. Which he probably did.

“I didn’t run into you- I was- you were running-I-”

“Oh my god, stop stuttering. Matter of fact, stop talking.”

Sierra shoved in between them.

“Come on guys, don’t do this right now. You’re blocking the doorway.”

She playfully shoved both of them aside and then ran out the open door, which was lighting up the carpet with sunlight.

Lele looked at Matt for a second.

“Bet I can beat you out the door.”

“You don’t wanna make that bet. You’re in heels.”

“Try me, bitch.”

Lele smirked at him, and then charged out the door, ignoring his protests and basking as she ran out onto the lawn.

She wouldn’t help but feel that… maybe she should be out there. Maybe she should’ve survived.

But this wasn’t so bad. It really wasn’t. Because even though she’d lost this battle… we all lose some. And she wasn’t planning on letting it happen again. She smiled back at Matt as he struggled down the steps, far behind her.

One more victory. Here’s to more.

-

Eight people stood at the house on the hill, watching the sunrise paint its colours across the blank canvas of the sky. Despite every loss, despite every argument, despite the grief and despair and the memories that could never be overcome, in this moment, of watching the day break through the night, it almost didn’t matter that 2016 would be a distant memory of what had once been. Because all that mattered was the sun, and the smiles spreading across each face.

A Renegade, a Fixer, a Gambler, a Jazz Singer, an Heiress, a Professor, a Mobster, and a Hustler.  For the moment, they were all at peace.

It was okay.

_____________________________

- Epilogue -

Shane had left the celebratory house party his friends were having downstairs, under the excuse that he had to go to the bathroom. Really, he just needed a moment away from the group, just for a bit. Besides, he liked his brand-new magic room.

Shane opened the oak wood door, stepping in and tentatively closing it behind him. He then promptly flopped down onto the bed. He had been rushing around, helping his friends… he felt like he could sleep until, well… forever.

After a few minutes, he got up, not wanting to worry his friends, but… he noticed something. A letter, in old parchment, resting on the polished wood desk. He walked over to it cautiously, and let out a small gasp, as he realized that the red stamp was engraved with the mark of the Society Against Evil. Carefully, trying not to tear the parchment, he opened the letter and couldn’t help but smile as he recognized the scrawl of Nephthys’ messy handwriting.

To Shane,

It’s finally over! Since your friends banished all the evil in the house, your mission is now complete.

Shane read it over for a minute, confused at the short length. All of a sudden, he heard the soft sound of light footsteps behind him. He whirled around, expecting one of his friends, but instead… 

In front  of him, hands clasped behind her back, was a girl. But she wasn’t like any sort of human he’d ever seen… her skin and eyes were like porcelain, dull and pale. Her hair was a frayed, fluffy mass of dark brown that hung down to her shoulders. She wore a black coat, a plain pale gray dress, and even blacker boots. But… pinned on her coat was a shiny golden symbol… the SAE.

“Who…?”

She broke out in a grin. “You already know me, Shane! I’m Nephthys.” Shane looked at the letter. So this was the one sending him all of the help. 

“It’s nice to meet you, then.” Shane said, smiling cautiously.

“It’s nice to meet you too! Well, I’ve been here all along, guarding the afterlife, but I’ve never actually talked to anyone. But you’re different. And I could’ve just done this via note, but it’s really important so I wanted to do this myself.” She said, and straightened the collar of her coat.

“ Ahem. Shane Dawson, your duty, and your mission, have been fulfilled. Thanks to the efforts of you and your friends, no one will be hurt by the evil of the house ever again and it will stay locked away for the rest of memory. So, on behalf of the Society Against Evil, and me, we thank you for fighting.” She said, smiling. Then, her eyes widened as she seemingly remembered something.She reached into her coat pocket, pulled something out, and eh-hemmed once again.

“Welcome to the afterlife branch. You’re now the guardian of this place, and the people that live here!” She said cheerily, pressing the small bundle of cloth she had pulled out into his hand. Then, she let out a sudden noise of distress.

“Oh dear, your friends are coming to make sure you’re okay. I’ve got to go… don’t tell anyone about me, okay? See you soon!” She waved, and disappeared into nothingness just as a knock sounded on the door.

“Shane?” he heard outside. He could tell it was Justine.

“Just a sec.” 

“Well hurry it up, we’re starting a game of cards with shots that Lele found in the kitchen,  and we need you there!” 

“Okay, geez!” He shouted back. Carefully, he opened the small bundle and smiled. Shimmering on his palm was a gold badge for the society against evil. Engraved on the circle surrounding it was his new title: Guardian.

He quickly pinned it in his jacket, admiring it for a moment. Sure, he had a badge that looked a lot like it, but he couldn’t help feeling like it was important. He opened the door to a very impatient Justine.

“C’mon, Shane, they cannot start without us!” She said, grabbing his hand and dragging him downstairs to the dining room table. Everyone else was waiting patiently (some more than others, Tim.) They were greeted with a chorus of finally!’s and what took you so long?

“Where were you? And what is that?” spoke out Lele, who pointed to his shiny new badge.

“I was in my room. And this badge appoints me as the guardian of this place, and hereby in charge of all of you.” The laughter and talk of how full of himself he was sounded all around him as Justine dealt out cards. But as everyone engaged in conversation and general happy talk, Shane looked over to the doorway, and smiled. Because, just for a moment, he could see the face of a smiling Nephthys staring right back at him.

Chapter Text

All was quiet. 

It was a rare occurrence, really. Usually, Nephthys could hear something or someone stirring around in the house when she crept through its halls at night.

Maybe a gaggle of the girls would stay up late, laughing or going for a quick swim. She could hear one of them, Lele was it? Anyways, she could always hear her voice echoing loudly whenever that sort of thing happened.

Sometimes, the soft golden glow of candlelight seeping down the stairwell. The professor, staying up in his residence at the very top of the house, reading a book.

In contrast, a rumbling would rise up from below, The Hustler, noisily fumbling together some sort of fake ritual that she thought was going to work for one thing or another. Her friends called it “warding off the Matt”, whatever that meant.

Perhaps the Gambler would have gotten a few people together to play a friendly game of cards, clinking glasses with defeated sighs and victorious cheers bursting out from the crowd when she beats them time after time after time. Though, to be fair, some of them simply never seem to learn.

During these nights there was the Jazz Singer loudly humming a few old tunes in the background like a soundtrack to their games- though she didn’t keep that pastime for only special occasions. Melodies drifted around from room to room like the old records they played on the gramophone. Music that never fails to make her smile with nostalgia about a time that she can’t quite figure out why she’s so fond of. 

Some nights all of them would be awake, filling the house with cheer and laughter. Paying card games, dancing to a few old hits, playing “hide-and-seek”, pool parties, things that made Nephthys’s heart shine when she caught a glance of the smiles of their faces from wherever she was at the time. They all looked so happy, even with the circumstances.

Which was good- that what was supposed to be happening, after all. That’s what she was meant to do.

But tonight, the only light she saw was a few dimly lit oil lamps, and the only noise, the flicker of the wind across the house’s exterior. Everyone was fast asleep.

She was spending the quiet time curled up on the balcony behind the gargoyle, a small stack of books beside her as she flicked through the pages of her current read.

19th Century Witchcraft.

The title alone had piqued her interest, she found it interesting the book was there in the first place. Frail fingers slipped over each page as her eyes scanned each word, a spell and its meaning, its purpose.

Attack, defend, revive, restore.

She wondered if they still worked.

And then… a presence.

Nephthys was fully aware of most things that happened in this branch of the afterlife. Well, it was more like a leaf. A leaf, on a twig, on a branch, attached to a giant tree of infinite different realms of the deceased, spanning across the neverending star-crossed cosmos, roots digging into the ground as early as the beginning of time and the first life brought to the universe, new branches budding and blooming and reaching for the ends of the sky as the future spanned out in front of them. It was a shame she couldn’t see it.

This was a world of people who had been invited to a party, a ball, a fiesta, a whatever. In a different era. They called themselves “YouTubers”- a term that despite many references, she still didn’t quite understand- and she was responsible for watching over their pocket of the void.

Hardly anything had happened since the night they’d arrived, one by one, with a tear in the fabric of the sky, a spirit of a wisp swirling through the air towards the ground, the clang of a belltower. Nephthys hadn’t just heard and seen it, she felt it, too. It was her utmost responsibility to ward off any demons that might have crept into the world alongside them. She got lucky that the headache that’d drove into her skull faded pretty quickly after managing to banish the weaker demons that were released when the Heiress’s rosary had been broken. It creeped back every now and then, leaving her unsure if she could handle anything stronger. She didn’t even know what would’ve happened if they had gotten loose for longer, if they could’ve broken the barrier.

She didn’t want to find out.

So when she felt a tug, a pull, an impulse in her mind, she knew that something had shifted. Something in the natural order of the afterlife had changed. And it was her duty to find it.

It’s what she’s meant to do.

She let out a reluctant sigh and folded the red silken bookmark over her page. She closed it, and delicately placed it atop her little stack of reading materials in the opposite corner. Hardly anyone came up here, but she wanted to be safe. Once, she’d left a book open in the library, and- after everyone had sworn they’d not touched it- the Mobster went on a “Stake Out” for days on end, insisting there was a poltergeist around. 

Carefully, she pulled on her coat, and slipped under the door, tentatively lifting it down as she entered the hallway. She wandered about, searching quietly for whatever may have caused the tugging sensation in her gut. She didn’t go in any of their rooms, of course. That would be creepy, and it would wake them up. Besides, something told her what she was looking for wasn’t there. 

She continued her journey, almost flitting through corridors and different rooms, looking around for a moment before realizing nothing was there and moving on to the next one. Every time this cycle repeated, she got more and more irritated. She wanted to go back up onto her balcony and curl up again with her book. But no, the tugging in her gut was still there so she kept up the search. It went on like this for maybe twenty minutes or so before she finally decided to head outside. She carefully closed the front door behind her, not wanting to wake Justine(?), who’d camped herself in by far the biggest claimable room. It was the only room someone had claimed on the first floor, she remembered (The Hustler was in the basement, the others had sorted themselves into assorted guest bedrooms, various rooms in the vast array of space, and, in the Professor's case, at the tip-top of the house). She walked along the pavement of the driveway, looking up at the stars. As they always did, they twinkled merrily back at her, soft patches of silver lighting up the sky. The moon had reached its cycle, full and broad above her.

Nights like these never fail to seem almost magical.

And then the real magic begins.

A sharp sensation shoots through her skull, sending her to her knees and her hand to the side of her head. She rolls to sit, bring back her hand- her eyes widening at the shimmering gold something coating her palm, trickling down her cheek, onto her coat and the dirt beside her. A hazy glow caught in the corner of her eye, a faint handprint shaped mark in the nearby tree coming into view as she turned her head towards it. 

It seemed to pulse as she got closer to it, glowing up and fading away in turn. The stuff coating her hand seemed to glow too.

She held her breath, raising her hand to the trunk and pressing her palm inside the perfectly matching outline, rooting her in place as a sudden gust of air crashed against her frame. She blinked rapidly as it pushed her hair out of her face and  her coat out behind her, nightdress fluttering in the wind. A pale blue light peeked through the cracks in her eyes despite having swelled them shut, and only when it had dulled down did she open them. Wiggling her fingers in the somehow cool plane of light that was suddenly spread up the trunk above her, reaching down to her feet when she cared to look. Despite being solid wood before, she was able to dip her entire hand- and probably forearm if she tried- into the pool before her. 

Holding her breath, she placed a hand on one side, and reached in even further, a soft sort of whisper running into her ear when she got up to her shoulder on the other side.

No time like now… huh…

This was where she was supposed to go- wherever it was. Only one way to find out.

Taking a few steps back, she held her coat tight around her chest, and raised the other out in front of her. Then she paused, before taking off in a running start, and barreling through the light.

...

...

...

It’s bright.

And then- as the old custom- darkness black. 

Though, upon a second thought,  this isn’t the old anymore. In her new home there might not be life, but there’s laughter at the house on the hill, and a light that’d shine down on the estate through each window where someone was present, even just through the front door in a night like this.  But there’s only a cool rust-tinted wash around a blur that she can only assume is her shadow. Turning around, there’s no house, just a pale blood moon stamped into the sky above her. 

This isn’t the estate…

With only a couple steps back, she trips, stumbling backwards and falling down against what felt like the trunk of a tree. Flashes of amber shoot into her vision as her head starts to crack again, no noise leaving her throat as she grimaces, tears pricking at her eyes for some reason she can never seem to grasp. She rolls away from it, ending up on her knees, seeing more of the shining substance from earlier splattered on the floor, even if the moonlight turns it crimson against the grass. 

Picking her head up, her jaw drops as she sees what she’d consider a palace ahead of her.

Then again, she’s never actually seen a palace. This is just really, really big.

It doesn’t stop getting bigger as she walks towards it, three wide floors towering over her with over two dozen top-to-bottom windows on the front alone. It’s grandeur she’d never even dreamed of knowing, all right in front of her eyes.

But it’s not fit for them, whoever they’ll be. Not just yet.

It looks like it’s been left in ruin for years, moss seeping into the bricks, ivy and vines creeping up the walls and spiralling around pillars. The lamps lining the outside glow a warm lime through the greenery, but there was a certain light coming from behind a wall of it all, drawing her closer and closer towards it.

Tentatively, she reaches out to the overgrowth, gently tugging it away from its position, though her eyes widen as it disintegrates between her fingers, a brown dust coating her skin. From where she’d touched, the vine erased all on its own, crinkling into nothing all the way up the wall face and disappearing into the air. She took a breath- turning into a gasp as an idea suddenly sunk into her mind. 

Running to one side of the building, she found rightmost side of the vines, reaching forwards and digging her grip underneath them, then sprinting. From within her grip they all tore away, all breaking up and down, away from the brickwork and disappearing into the air. Reaching the end, she spun, almost toppling as she reached out to steady herself, giggling as her outstretched arms were lightly covered in speckles of brown and black, falling down around her like ashen snow.

And then, she saw it.

A ballroom on the bottom floor, lit with lamps and covered in dust but gorgeous all the same. The door clicked open with ease when she tried it, stepping inside just to see the dust vanish in blooming circles around her feet, each step she took, the polished floor shining from beneath it. Her fingers tingled as she wiggled them at her sides, wafting at a cobweb, a gleeful smile rising on her face as it receded, leaving that particular corner spotless.

Cleaning this entire place was going to take time, but if it had to be done…

She’d devote her life to doing it.

Bounding around the mansion, she swiped away all the grime and soot, the mansion returning to its former glory right before her awe-filled eyes. Before she knew it- she was standing top the top balcony, looking out over the sprawling grounds before her.

All over again, everything clicks in her heart, and any headache she’d had faded away as she stood straight, pride beaming through her grin.

This is what she was meant to do.

And it’s going to be great.

Chapter Text

Lauren’s eyes opened to the glow of chandeliers.

Twinkling lights sparkled contentedly above her. Gold engravings, polished white stone, she could see them too. Part of her felt alarm and dread, couldn’t quite place why- but most of her just felt dazed, unfocused, and lightheaded.

 Did she get really drunk?

 She remembered a party… not much of anything else. Possibly drinking? Maybe her theory wasn’t totally unprompted.

There was definitely a party. She was sure.

A party. A party meant people, right? Surely she couldn’t have just come alone. One face… one face sprung to mind almost immediately. She couldn’t help but smile a bit at the thought.

Alex! Alex was there, she was sure. And a few other people, too… Destorm Power, Gabbie Hanna, Tyler Oakley, maybe? Hazy faces darted through her memory, like images that the camera lens in her mind couldn’t seem to focus on. And a party needed a host, right? Joey. Joey’s name popped into her head immediately at the thought. She knew a Joey.

Had Joey Graceffa invited them? She thought he’d gone missing, back in 2016. Maybe he’d invited them to a welcome-back party. It would be like him to throw it in a place like this. 

She still wasn’t sure about the rest of the guests, though. Voices and abstract phrases whispered in her ear, but she couldn’t place name to face.

And thinking of people, Alex in particular,  brought her back to the present, brought her back wondering where her boyfriend was right now. Where was everyone right now? This was a party, she was sure,  so why was she, Lauren Riihimaki, a DIY Youtuber, lying alone in the floor of a cold ballroom?

Maybe she could find someone if she looked, but all she wanted to do at the moment was just lie there, taking into consideration the aggravated panging of her head. She could’ve very well stayed down, but she instead forced herself to sit up, rubbing the back of her head through her messy hair as it throbbed irritably from lying on the hard wooden floor. She blinked for a few seconds, disoriented, and then took in the view around her. Predictably, everything looked elegant and glamorous, though a bit strange as well. Tables and boxes were lined up in matching sets, like for a relay course. Yet again her brain provided her with nothing as she fished for answers as to why that particular word- race- brought a shiver down her spine.

Colourful ottomans, velvet couches, and cabinets with dimly lit lamps and vases of flowers were sprinkled around the room. The centerpiece was a throne. Now she was sure Joey had thrown (throne, ha) this party. He would be draping himself across that thing like the luxurious thespian he was the second his eyes fell on it. The thought brought a small smile to her face before she was flooded with concern again.

She didn’t trust herself to get up yet. Both because she still felt very strangely disoriented, lightheaded, and woozy, and because her gigantic Beauty and the Beast-esque dress she vaguely remembered being given was still the same and as far as she knew, nobody was around to pick up the long train for her. Both factors would almost definitely lead to a concussion, and she did not need to be more confused than she already was. 

So she shifted herself into an uncomfortable cross-legged position, resting her head comfortably against her hand and heaving a deep sigh. The position wasn’t particularly elegant or productive, but at that point she wasn’t sure what else she could do with herself.

Eventually her hands got clammy in the wrist-length lace gloves she was wearing and she gingerly pulled them off, folding them neatly next to her and then trying to reposition herself, resting her face in her hand again, but she had just barely grazed her cheek before pulled her face back with alarm at the slightest contact.

Why?

Because her hands were like ice.

She had average temperature hands, and she figured there’d be a modicum of warmth in there at least, since she was wearing gloves, but nope! She tested again, to make sure, and it was official- she’d turned into Edward from Twilight.

Does that make Alex Bella?

No, he’s not that boring.

The more she looked at herself, the more concerned she got. She was so… pale. Sure, she’d had fair skin before, but now her arms and presumably the rest of her looked… chalky, white. Porcelain colour. 

Had she done drugs? Or did the party she was invited to involve some weird whitewashing spray tan?

She just sat there, contemplating many, many things about herself for god knows how long until she finally sighed and thought to herself…

Okay, Lauren Riihimaki. You are a DIY Youtuber, who has inexplicably gotten hypothermia and a somehow skin-lightening, frozen-over makeup job. Your boyfriend + everyone else  is somehow not here. You are alone in a giant ballroom. You also have amnesia. What are you gonna do about it?

Truth be told, she didn’t really know what she was gonna do, because she didn’t know where her phone was or where this house was, either. She’d probably get lost if she tried to leave. Should she try? No. She was in a pretty ballroom. This place must be huge. She could probably stay for awhile until help came for her. It would, wouldn’t it? 

Doubt trickled down her spine, before she abruptly took a deep breath and shoved the thoughts out of her mind. Of course someone would come for her. She was well-known, hopefully well-liked. No way anyone could just forget about her.

In the meantime, she’d been sitting on the ground for so long and the pounding in her head had started to subside, so maybe she could get up and walk around. Could that clear her mind? Hopefully.

So she carefully tucked her knees in, and stood up shakily on her heels.  She shivered lightly, hugging herself, which didn’t do much good since her body heat was at about negative fifty. The room was cold. Or maybe it was just her skin.

And she took a step forward, a few steps, as if she was a baby learning to walk. She knew she couldn’t exactly be too careful- if her head started whirling again she’d probably crash to the floor and die.

She kept walking, passing by polished white walls, more colourful stools that looked brand-new, that strange relay route, and then she reached a large set of glass double-doors that seemingly led out into the darkness. She looked at them for a moment, caught her own reflection, and suddenly it felt like a strange rhythm was thudding its way into her mind. It sounded like her heart… but she couldn’t feel it beating. Everything slowed. Everything was frozen.

Because staring back at her was a walking corpse.

Its face was ghostly white, looking haunted and gaunt in the low light. Its hair was still in a bun, but it was an absolute mess, frayed and chaotic. But worst of all was its stomach. Its shoulders.

Huge, deep, fatal gashes were open in the reflection’s stomach, completely ruining the shimmering golden bodice. Caked with red, oozing sickly crimson blood. Her arms were littered with deep red bite marks, like wolves, like animals had sunk their teeth into them. This- this face that was staring back at her, it couldn’t be real, it couldn’t be the truth, it was just a sick, twisted illusion. It was  something out of an actual horror movie. It can’t be real.

But it looked exactly like her.

She couldn’t feel the air enter her lungs, but she heaved for breath, despite the fact that it didn’t seem to matter. Her hands shook uncontrollably. It felt like the entire world was spinning at a million miles an hour, leaving no room for her,  and at the same time everything felt slow, felt stuck in place as she stared into the eyes of the corpse. The eyes stared back. And they blinked. They blinked with her.

Against her better judgement, against everything her own primal instincts, she looked down. At her torso. Where the reflection tricks her.

But it wasn’t a trick.

Because the red was there, too.

The hole, the gash, the bite marks.

Why on earth had her vision obscured them before? Why did it seem they were just now appearing to her, even though she felt no pain?

And suddenly, the ghost, the cold, the gaunt zombie standing in front of her seemed so much more familiar. It looked up when she did.

An explanation arose in her mind, a reason as to why her skin was pale, why her hands were ice.

Because there was no blood.

No blood in her system.

It had been… drained. Stolen.

She screamed, and it was a loud scream, too. It bounced off the walls and hurled itself back at her, and she couldn’t help but sob , because she was horrified with herself.

And all of a sudden, the flashbacks. Everything rushed into her head at a million miles an hour, the druken haze of confusion suddenly cleared, and the fog parted seamlessly .

There was a party, a party thrown by Joey, a party back in time.He sent a letter, a letter asking her by name. It came with the dress, the long golden dress she was wearing right now.

Alex was there. He got the letter too. They came together. He looked so happy when he saw her in her dress.

"It's fine, Alex, we have two separate carriages, go on, I'll catch up."

“You made that booty?” she hears someone ask. 

“I made this booty!” she responds, with a tinkly little laugh. They were all characters.

She was an Engineer for the night.

“So that’s what Alex is writing about…”

He was a Novelist.

Laurex, Victorian Edition. I like the sound of that.

And then, vampires. Fear. Actual fear for her life. 

“Dinner has arrived!”

She’d never dealt with the supernatural before.

She never wants to again.

And then she was captured, and tied to a pole, and she might die here and now and be turned into dinner and nobody would know-

And then they came. Joey and Liza, they came and she didn’t die, she saw Alex there, he held her hands and smiled at her, that bright smile that brought a blush to her cheeks and a smile to her face, and for that moment everything is okay until it isn’t.

‘Useless’ they whisper.

You had an opportunity to step up.

Lauren just remembered being scared. She remembered blurting out those words, she can’t even bring to mind how she phrased them or how many there were but she can only think and feel and picture how scared she was, scared of failure not just to herself but for the group. And instead they thought she was weak.

I’m sorry.

Her beloved hero boy stepped up to save her. Internally, she pleaded with him not to. But her mouth was inept and it stayed shut. All she could do was watch him throw himself onto the fire for her.

But his plan didn’t work, because the vampire girl called her name. Alex’s face almost seemed to crumble in front of her.

The others looked at her, faces wobbling the line between guilt, sorrow, relief, satisfaction.

They wanted me to die.

I’m expendable. A second thought.

Her eyes met Alex’s.

But not to him.

She wants to cry. 

The only one that doesn’t try to look conflicted is Destorm. It’s almost admirable the the only sign he gives of his emotion is the slightest nostril flare, a few blinks, an ‘okay’ that doesn’t seem genuine. He was withdrawn, shady, untrusting.

Lauren voted for him.

And then they’re in the challenge, and he got ahead, but she caught up, and then everything is a blur of math and equations but the numbers swish together in her head, mashing, not working, and the gears in her head crank and scream but no matter what she tries they’re  not collaborating the way she wants them to. Nothing opens the lock and he surges ahead-

“Destorm, I can’t think!”

- and then it’s all a painful blur of cries and bangs on the coffin and horrendous thoughts and nothing because it still won’t open  until the Vampire Queen’s voice rings out, screeching and horrible like nails on a chalkboard.

“Can we please kill the other one?”

Destorm holds the golden goblet. Triumph gleams in his murky eyes.

I came here for a party.

I came here for a party and I’m about to die.

What will Alex do? I never got to say goodbye.

He was so sure I’d come back.

“I’m sorry, girl. But I got this golden goblet.  I ain’t dying today.”

And there’s hissing, and there are fangs, and the mob of vampires rushing upon her, far quicker than she could ever hope to run.

“ Kill her!” Destorm shouts. He’s not sorry.

For a  moment disbelief crosses her mind, disbelief that a fellow human would encourage the vampires to devour her. And they do. They do, and it’s bloody, and it’s painful.

She cries out, but of course it’s too late and miracles only happen in fairy tales.

She fades.

And that brings her back to the present. The corpse standing before her shared her face. It shared her horror.

Because it’s her. She was looking at who she is now.

“I’m dead.” she whispered to herself.

No one’s coming for you.

It was a deep, slow, horrible realization and the dread opened up a canyon of pure fear in her stomach. She felt sick, felt nauseous. This was impossible, but it was true, because she saw it, but she’s still breathing, but she’s not, and she has no blood and yet somehow she’s still standing and everything is a crimson-coloured whirlwind that’s moving too fast for her and she’s dizzy and sick and she wants to go home, go home to her stuffies, her family, her boyfriend…  

She was in the wrong skin. She was cold, so cold, and she wanted to be warm and she wanted a million things that she knew were impossible and she still wanted to cling to that false hope, cling to that painful dream that’s about to snap in two. The corpse in the window was taunting her, she knew it was, but it’s her and she can’t escape it. She wished it would creepily wave or something, because God knows it would be less terrifying than the knowledge that’s it was her own face.

You’re dead, Lauren Riihimaki.

No...

And that little word was her last cohesive thought before the feeling of nausea, that pounding in her head, returned and gripped her again,  and with a few staggering steps she fell to the floor with a horrible cross between a sob and a shriek that echoed throughout the ballroom.

Lauren was alone.

Chapter Text

All Lauren felt at the moment were her ice-cold fingers digging aggressively in her cheeks, cold, salty tears running their course down her face. She made no effort to stop the rivers- they just kept flowing with every shuddery breath she managed to take, even though she still somehow didn’t feel her lungs or her chest rise and fall. It didn’t make any sense, and yet it did, because what would be the use for air if she were dead?

There was still a very small bit of her that didn’t want to believe it, a piece of her that wanted to question, that was still in denial. But every time she looked up, tested that maybe the reflection wasn’t real somehow, all it resulted in was another choked sob and another onslaught of panic.

She didn’t know how much time had passed before she finally found the courage to stay standing. She wobbled on her feet, yes, and the stupid dress certainly didn’t help, but she managed to steady herself, even if her insides felt like they were about to spontaneously combust into a pile of Jell-o.

She blinked away the last few tears, watching as they rolled gently off her chin and hit the floor. With a long, shuddery breath, she removed one of the gloves. Though still unused to the frigidity of her hands without any blood to speak of, she had been slowly adjusting to the feeling, and the symptoms of anemia she had felt so prominently before were almost completely unrecognizable after she’d lived with them for however long.

She carefully swabbed away at one side of her cheek with the dainty glove, wincing as she saw it come away coated with makeup. She spent a few minutes wiping it all away- she wasn’t sure if there was any more around, but she didn’t want to look like a smeared mess, not with all these giant reflective windows staring her in the face. And speaking of which…

Turning on her heel, she immediately swayed on her feet and winced as she caught sight of the horrible wounds that were left from the vampires who mauled her. She looked like a walking horror movie poster, and it was all she could do not to cry again as she forced herself to turn away. But it was still there, in her mind, almost entrancing. She somehow felt magnetically attracted to look at it again, even though she knew the sight would bring her tears and panic. She clenched her teeth, frustrated with her feelings and how much they seemed to clunk and clash together, reverberating in her ears and doing nothing but making everything seem worse. 

God, she was angry.

Angry with Destorm, angry with the rest of the stupid group who voted for her, angry with herself for being an idiot who couldn’t do math, angry with the reflection for taunting her in the mirror. She wanted to scream, to vent, to blow her steam off somehow , and she just felt like she was going to explode-

She let out a frustrated, angry noise that might’ve been a scream , and stomped her foot on the ground like a frustrated two-year-old. It was stupid, and it was childish, but she just… she needed some way to get that anger out, because she had no one to talk to but herself and her thoughts jsut added more an more fuel to the fire.

With another guttural noise, she wheeled on the window and stared down the corpse, the shadow that mirrored her movements and threw a glare back at her that held the same amount of venom.

“Are you happy?” she screamed, making direct eye contact at herself in the shimmery glass of the window. “You were an idiot, and you got yourself killed , and now you just can’t suck it up, can you? Because everyone thinks you’re a pathetic moron, and based on the fact you just can’t- can’t stop crying, they were right!” 

She almost wanted the reflection to say something, scream back at her, but she knew that was impossible. It just looked back at her, face twisted in knots of rage, heartbreak, and anguish. Its scarred shoulders rose and fell in shuddery gasps and heaves, and Lauren was… afraid. Afraid of the monster standing in front of her. It seemed like something she would imagine in a nightmare, a nightmare she would’ve had when she was a kid. She let out another heartbroken sob because memories of childhood just made her want to be held, loved, have someone, anyone come for her and hold her close and tell her it was going to be okay.

She let her shoulders sag, as she felt her anger dissipate into depression. She felt empty, felt hollow. Miserably, she let herself look at the scars in her stomach again. They felt like leeches. Every time they caught her attention, they brought back a rush of memories, chilled her to the bone with thoughts of pain, thoughts of anger, thoughts of weakness.

If only she could… hide them, somehow. She knew hiding away problems wasn’t the way to deal with them appropriately, but she also knew that she more she saw them, the more she wanted to vomit.

And suddenly, something caught her eye. Through her blurry, tear-stroked vision, she saw some kind of… fabric pile, in a corner. She frowned. She’d gotten a good look at this room in the… however long she’d been here, and she was at least 80% sure that it hadn’t been there. Still, she tentatively walked over to it, crouched down, and bunched some of the fabric in her hands. It was smooth to the touch- silk that shimmered in the candlelight, chilled from the cold marble floor.  Carefully, as if all of a sudden it might catch on fire, she pulled it around her shoulders. There was no clasp, or anything like that, but that was fine. It easily covered her shoulders, and if she held it at the front, the ugly scars on her stomach were barely visible.

She exhaled, and despite the fact that it was anything but warm, she felt comforted and safe for the first time in what felt like a long time. She bundled herself in the soft, smooth fabric more, and, for a few moments, simply stood there. Briefly, it almost felt like Alex was there with her, holding her, keeping her warm and making the wounds disappear for the moment. It was comforting, it was soothing.

Maybe I’ll be okay.

Then she abruptly remembered she was both dead and (hopefully)  alone in a mansion that was beautiful, yes, but the source of so many terrors. With a  slight shudder, she turned, looking at her surroundings. There was the stage, the relay course, and the decor, all of which she’d seen before, and as for exits… her options were the large glass double doors that lead outside, and a small golden archway on the far right that seemed to lead further into the mansion.

With a deep breath, she turned towards the glass doors, with the vague notion that it would be better to move away and out into the night, rather than deeper into what she could only assume was the belly of the beast. Though she was afraid of the possibility that there were night terrors waiting to leap out of the hedges and drag her into some new, afterlife horror, she squeezed the blanket around herself, thought of Alex, and reminded herself that she had to be brave. After all, wasn’t being too afraid to act the reason she was here?

With a shudder, she reached out her hand, closed it around the handle, and huffed with annoyance as the door handle held fast.

Locked?

She gritted her teeth, either thinking it was rusty and firm, or just trying to straight-up break it. Still, no matter how much she pushed, it refused to budge. She thought it might have even given her some kind of electric shock, which was probably an indication some kind of outside force was… somehow annoyed at her for trying as hard as she was, which was chilling, to say the least. Was she just not gonna be allowed to go outside? Was she restricted to this ballroom?

Irritated, she slumped against the cold glass paneling… and made the mistake of averting her eyes to the night sky outside the window. 

Which was, was… pure, inky black.

An endless, black sky.

No stars were in sight- not even the outline of any furniture or plantlife. It looked wrong, it felt wrong. And she shuddered at the fact that, no matter how hard she looked, she couldn’t see the moon shining above.

With a tiny whimper, Lauren backed away from the glass doors, as if somehow the inky blackness it coated the world with would leak onto her own skin. She shuddered before turning to the archway at the back of the room, and running toward it… and then, thankfully, through it. Seems like she wasn’t restricted to her place of death forever. That was nice.

Lauren found herself walking through a long white hallway, decorated with nothing but a few obscure landscape paintings. She liked those- she knew it was silly, but those paintings almost reminded her of the life she led before the night, the night that, though it had only lasted a few hours for her, felt like it would be her new reality, for, well- forever.

At the hallway’s end there was a turn- and she found herself back in… back in the room.

Though the ballroom was where she’d been killed, this place felt more sinister.

She remembered the whispers in this room. 

Who hasn’t done anything?

She flinched as the words suddenly made themselves present in her mind.

It’s you, Riihimaki. She thought to herself, miserably.

If that ballroom had been the execution- this was where she’d been declared guilty.

Guilty of what? She thought to herself, the misery abruptly giving way to anger. Being afraid? Wanting to help the team by staying out of it? What if you’d picked me and I’d blown it, huh? You’d have blamed me for that, too.

"You didn't do anything wrong, but you didn't do anything right. And you had an opportunity to step up and help the team, and you—"  

“Shut up, Gabbie.” She muttered to herself, feeling a tear slide down her face. She just wanted those voices in her head to leave her alone, to just shut up forever and let her move on. Unfortunately, being trapped in a luxurious Victorian mansion of horrible memories and her worst nightmares seemed to be her permanent situation at the moment.

Why not just hecking make the best of it? She thought to herself, semi-ironically. She knew that was gonna be impossible.

With a disheartened sigh, she stepped into the room, and slumped herself down on the couch, trying to let herself rest by looking around at the decor. Same green-and-gold couches and intricately decorated curtains, same ornate golden furniture and black marble fireplace, same paintings, the voting booth where all the cards lay, same weird horn statue with a bunch of holes in it-

She paused, and looked above the fireplace, squinting at the strange, satanic-looking stone statue peering down at her from the top of the fireplace. It was quite large, and heavy-looking, with eight gem-shaped holes in a semicircle on the front, though one of them was filled… with what looked like a… a pure black gem. Goat-like horns stuck out of it, curling inwards. With a curious grunt, she got up out of her seat and hefted it off the mantle, using pretty much every muscle in her fragile, bloodless, undead body. After two seconds of it basically freefalling in her arms towards the safe, she set it down with a puff of air and a reminder to herself that if she ever found some kind of fitness equipment (or just the incentive to lift something heavy once in a while) she would. Because that really shouldn’t have been as hard as it was.

After a second, she crouched in closer, examining the strange statue, and more specifically, the black gem that filled the first hole. Eerily, it matched the strangely black colour of the sky, and with a jolt, she realized that… she recognized this gem. It was the same one that hung around the neck of Dorian, the vampire king that Joey had killed back when she was still alive.

Lauren furrowed her brow, wondering to herself why exactly it was here. 

Driven by some… urge, lauren reached out a finger, to touch them gem. Predictably, it was initially cold… but she felt some kind of odd compatibility with it. This is what she had died for. It solidified her place here, in this strange afterlife. She somehow understood that.

Creeped out by the mildly strange fact that she felt a connection to a useless black rock, Lauren drew her finger away, where her eyes widened as she found a full-scale map of the house, or at least the first floor. There was  a guest bedroom, a… a kitchen, it looked like, a study, a few other rooms… and then her eyes flitted to the ballroom, where she saw a small mark that shimmered in the dark stone it was etched in. Upon further inspection, she noticed that around the mark were two long, sharp shapes… fangs.

She shuddered, all of a sudden remembering the hisses and the dangerous hunger in the eyes of the creatures that had… eaten her.

Another chill ran through her body.

But this one was different.

This one was more… ominous. An omen of things to come. A change in what she’d gotten used to.

And then suddenly, as if prompted by some supernatural force, all the gleaming lights in the lounge dimmed. The map etched in the back of the strange stone statue started to shimmer. And then, out of absolutely nowhere, Lauren heard a roaring round in her ears, almost like the wind… and was blinded by a flash of light. She covered her face with her arms as she let out a squeak of terror.

When she felt the light fade, and the world come back to… slightly normal again, she carefully removed her arms from her face, and immediately screamed again.

Floating in front of her, bobbing up and down ever so slightly,  was a deep, bloodred flame. It lit the area around her with crimson light, and even though she (idiotically) swatted at it, as if it were a pest that would simply leave her alone and go away, it didn’t move… except for moving a few paces away, and then stopping, almost as if it realized she wasn’t following it after. It was like one of the things from Brave… a will-o-wisp, she remembered.

Though trembling, she leaned in towards it.

“D-do you want me to fo-follow you?” she asked, her voice shaky, wondering why the heck she was talking to a floating red fire thingy.

It bobbed up and down, and then started to move away from her… which she could only assume meant yes.

Hesitantly, Lauren bundled her shawl around her, and followed the small flame. It led her out the living room, and when it morphed through the glass doors, Lauren realized that she could go outside now, if she wasn’t able to before.

She opened the door expecting the chills of the cold night air, but really, it was just… normal. Average temperature, pretty much all the same flora as well- including the strange forest of nicely trimmed trees that stretched out beyond the manor. 

The only thing that was paranormal was that, well, everything was bathed in red.

Somehow, in that blinding flash of wind and light, the sky had changed. Now, the moon shone like a bright crimson beacon in a starless sky strained with the colour of blood. The colour seeped onto everything else outside- it was eerie, and Lauren just wanted to go back inside with normal light, but, still feeling like she needed to follow the wisp, she continued on her journey under the strange sky, guided by the flame and the moon.

It took her around a small part of the mansion- she turned a few corners, walked a bit, got abruptly turned around and led up a staircase to the balcony that had been nearly impossible to see… she wasn't 100% sure about following the flame, but wherever it was going, it did seem very sure in its path.

After a small tour around the balconies of the house, and up another staircase, the flame started to slow, just as another bend in the balcony came up.

“Is this it?” Lauren muttered, half to the wisp, half to herself. “Is this where you wanted me to go?”

With a hesitant gulp, Lauren turned the corner- and immediately wished she could flee.

Jesse Wellens’s very obviously dead body lay a mess on the smooth white stone of the balcony. Almost like Lauren, deep slashes tore through his dark clothing, revealing gaping wounds beneath, and on either side of his torso were three deep wounds, six in total… it almost looked like something had stabbed him with six blades simultaneously. 

Lauren wanted to throw up. She’d never been sure about Jesse when she was alive… his nonchalant manner of speaking, his intimidating air of pure power, the way he casually held out a gun as if it were nothing important… they hadn’t been attractive qualities, so to speak. At least not to Lauren.

But nobody deserved... this.

She held down another wave of nausea, and found herself struck with the strange sensation of confusion, maybe even disappointment. Jesse had always seemed so… confident in the situations they were put through in the short time she’d known him. That confidence made her think… it almost made her think he’d be one of the ones to make it far into the night. She even heard he’d served in the army.

You’d think, really… someone like that would make it through the night.

Lauren supposed it served as a reminder… nothing made sense in the horrible game.

She was so caught up in her thoughts that she barely even noticed that the will’o wisp had floated past her, towards where Jesse’s body lay. It floated down, down towards it… and then it disappeared.

Lauren made a shocked noise between a squeak and a whimper when she realized- his eyes were fluttering open.

After a moment, he groaned. Whether it was in pain, or confusion… she couldn’t exactly tell.

Though he still laid on the stone floor, his eyes wandered over to where she stood a few feet away from him.

“Where… where the hell am I?”