Work Text:
A creak of wood , a couple of light knocks and the silence of a laugh cut off in half , and Hunk knew that looking over his shoulder would mean that he doubted the presence of his friend in the hallway .
“P-pidge?” he stuttered pulling up his shoulders, the fear making his body tremble more than the cold biting his skin, “It isn’t funny anymore, Pidge, please.”
The darkness of the hallway surrounded him completely, almost swallowing him up as if it was a hungry beast, and continuing walking to the end, where an old, broken door looked like it was mocking him, made him feel more anxious than ever.
“Pidge, please, turn on the light,” he asked, his voice cracking at the edges, “I admit I’m a coward, I said it even before entering, what else do you want from me? For me to die from a heart attack?”
Silence.
And the shivering that ran from his toes to the beginning of his neck made him gasp, trying not to whine.
“P-pidge?”
His voice made an echo in the hallway and he looked down, seeing his fists tighten and loosen a few times before taking a deep breath.
“I-it’s not funny, Pidge...”
He swallowed, not even prepared to look behind him, but he still turned slowly, the darkness and loneliness of the hallway welcoming him silently. His heart got clutched.
“P-p-p-pidge...?” he stammered, turning completely and trying to get himself smaller, feeling that any kind of movement could draw the attention of something undesirable, “W-where... where are you...?”
He took a step and his foot hit something, making him look down slowly and finding the little light that his friend had with her. He gasped and looked up, desperately searching around the hallway, every door closed.
“Pidge?” he called louder, although his voice kept trembling, “Pidge!”
There was no answer and took another step to where he thought was the entrance, wishing that getting out of that stupid, haunted building he could find her laughing at him below the moonlight. He stepped on something that immediately broke beneath his weight and he moved back to see what was it, finding in the floor the characteristic glasses her friend used, broken and abandoned.
“Pidge!!!” he shouted this time, tears falling down from his eyes, more scared of the wellness of his friend than his, and his breath stopped when he heard one of the doors open with the murmur of a creak.
He mouthed before looking, and in the darkness, he couldn’t see more than a silhouette on the ground.
“P-pidge?” he murmured tremblingly, recognizing her through the cruel game of shadows, and instead of taking the light and turn it on to get into the room, he stepped in slowly, tilting his head while trying to see clearly in the dark, “Pidge...”
The door closed with an inexistent wind.