Chapter Text
Halloween night in Los Angeles had a different vibe than before. Where there was once joyous laughter is replaced by echoing screams staining Sam's nightmares. The constant reminder of cartoon ghouls and ghosts hanging in every window, every peeking devil on somebody's decorated front porch only serves to weigh his gut more with anxiety.
Multi- colored autumn leaves no longer danced through the wind, instead opted to end their journey sooner by simply dropping like stones. Where magic once intertwined with music, sewn together with an imaginary witch's magic touch, became unwoven by the stabbing pins and needles that still ran through his body every time he dreamed of spirits. They’re images that he could never truly see in memory. He could only feel their evil.
Sam rolled up his passenger side window to avoid all that- the wind, the music, the laughter and screams of children too young to genuinely fear the things that go bump in the night. He's never noticed how isolated he felt from the world until it became apparent they were also isolated from him.
If they only knew what these things do. What ghosts would show to you, what demons would hurt you with, or even what ill intent they bring along, carried for decades. Would they still celebrate their image in plastic masks and paper decor?
"Man now we're really out of place this year, huh? Didn't even have time to put up decorations." Corey observed having noticed Sam's gaze. Devyn and he were designated to hand out candy to passing kids in the front driveway, and the man had invited him to come along to pick up the treats as Devyn was out with a friend.
The car pulled up to the gate slower than normal, leaving Sam to boil in this atmosphere even longer. His skin itched as if he were sweating, his hands burned to do something else than hold the Target bag full of mini candy bars and sweets. Sam stared at the passing asphalt and tightened his grip. As if he were holding his wounds closed.
'There is nothing more intimate than someone holding your wound close as you bleed out on the asphalt with all to see.'
Only the crinkle of plastic wrapping kept his mind from drifting off too far.
'I could tell you such. '
The car parked and Sam didn't hesitate to unbuckle his seatbelt. The house loomed over them with promise of black reprieve. Of all the expensively ghouled-up homes in this neighborhood, the undecorated one was most haunted of all. Though, of all of the places to be, at least Sam knew what to expect in his room. A little girl watching him from the corner, a tan face in his dreams.
Often it was like walking around in a pitch black room even with the lights on, knowing where every wall, table and corner was. Going in blind and seeing it for what it was. Knowing every nook and cranny, behind every curtain the cheap scares hide behind.
If the outside world couldn't be his reprieve, why even leave this home in the first place? Witches and clown statues sitting on the porches of neighbors only seemed to mock him. Sam had to wipe his eyes, shake these thoughts from his mind.
And, like he did with everything, Corey noticed his distress. "Tired Sam?" He prompted.
"Yeah I guess. I was up late editing then Jake wanted to record this morning. Guess it's just hitting me now that I'm done running around." The blonde wasn't lying. He just wasn't telling the whole truth either. Sleep and he had a love- hate relationship at this point.
Corey hummed in acknowledgment. It didn't go acknowledged that he had yet to turn off the car ignition. A bubbly pop song played low from the radio still until Corey turned down the volume. "You know... if you want, you can talk to me."
"Huh?" Instantly a nervous smile twitched on Sam's lips. He hated that that was his first instinct when he just didn't want an inevitable conversations to happen. He carried a tense aura everywhere he's gone lately so he over compensated to defuse it.
Whenever the roommates asked about his sleepwalking, he'd grin and say he hasn't done it in a while. He'd joke around when people poked fun at "Solby". He still took the blame whenever Aaron heard footsteps, whenever Corey heard whispers, saying that he was just trying to spook them.
Whenever Colby asked about his Sight bothering him, Sam would just smile sadly. It's getting easier to deal with.
The look it got from Corey in that moment was unreadable. His friend waved a hand towards the house as he spoke. "Yeah, I mean. We've all noticed for a while."
What was he talking about?
Corey tilted his head and looked down at the bag Sam was still gripping. It became clear what his own expression was. Suspicion. Anticipation. He was nervous. He forced himself to relax as the older continued. "We talked last night and, ya know. Colby told me."
An ice pick pierced Sam's gut before melting into terror, thoughts intruding and stirring like a slushie. Colby told him what?
That would explain why Corey offered to take him around shopping today. Get him out of the house, somewhere they could talk about his lies. How he was tricking everybody, how he was the one who brought these ghosts and entities in their home. Corey had tiptoed around him all day because he sees him as a beacon of evil. But he couldn't help it. How could he explain to Corey the horrors he's hidden? How he's tried to get rid of them and he felt his only option was to lie and hide.
"And look, I know we don't really have a man- to- man talk about our feelings often. Lord knows we probably should have done so more, seeing how... ya know. I don't think we ever really talked seriously after the tunnel incident and... the cliff." A haunted look came to Corey's eyes. He had to see the blonde after each incident, bloodied and shaken. He continued stumbling to find the right words to say.
"Anyways, I think we should all talk more often about how we might be hurting each other. We’re friends. For example.... I don't know it, uh, kind of hurts that you didn't come to anybody for help. You know you could talk to me, right?"
Sam's joints felt locked. He wanted to run away. This conversation should not have come so soon. He thought he'd have more time to formulate a way to tell everybody.
How could Colby tell Corey about his Sight? Did everybody know? What did they think about him? Is this what betrayal felt like, so cold and shaken? His soul felt like it was splintering every time Corey's eyes flickered about. He pulled in a cheap breath. Say something, idiot, it's not like he can kick you out twice.
"Corey, I didn't think you'd be this calm when you found out." He quietly stated.
The older's gaze finally met his and he shook his head a bit.
"We all hit a creative block once in a while Sam."
He froze. Oh? OH.
"Oh."
Corey's small grin finally graced him to calm Sam's frayed nerves. "It's not the first time and it won't be the last." The man stated. "But I know why this would make you feel low. Especially now... This last year has been crazy. I can't imagine how it's been treating you, Sammy. So many hospital trips, no therapy. I know I was in a really bad accident but... you might be the strongest dude I know." Awkward man- to- man talk has begun, it seems. "Does this creativity block make you feel, I don't know… bad in some way?"
Okay, so they’re talking about this now. He had to take a deep breath to stop his shaking panic.
Now that was a statement Sam really had to think about. It kind of did. Like, he knew it wasn’t his fault, but now that this happened, he can’t be the same as before. Not as happy or energetic to make videos.
His whole career was based off of social media and he makes his living from entertaining people. If his followers weren't watching, he couldn't keep living this life. After everything from the past year, gaining this Sight, Sam hasn't been the same. And his followers have obviously noticed. They asked a lot of questions he couldn't answer. He felt stuck. Not wanting to sell out for views overrode his need for validity. He was doing his best to avoid 3 am challenges because of obvious reasons, but that's what most people subscribed for.
And to his credit he'll still do it from time to time. But he'd intentionally botch it slightly when the cameras weren't looking. Not saying the right words here, misplacing some candles there. He was terrified to bring anymore powerful beings into this house. He still hasn't found a way to get the little girl ghost out of his room yet, though she seems content just watching him go about his days now.
That same ice pick seemed to solidify again with agonizing anxiety at this new prospect. He's stuck between a rock and a hard, haunted place. Without this way of life, a path where Colby and all his friends could continue on happily, where would he be without it? Where would his worth lie? He'd be left behind.
A spirit of the past haunted by spirits of the past.
"Yeah. It does actually." Sam admitted. He swallowed to try and cure his dry mouth. "What if I don't get my mojo back? Maybe everybody is over me. After all those controversies, what if they don't like the new Sam?"
What if /you/ don’t like the new me, he thought. What is nobody did?
"I think you're the same Sam you've always been." Corey offered, "You just need to get back on your feet. Elton thinks that maybe the stress made you a bit... depressed."
If only he knew.
"Do /you/ think I'm depressed?" Thinking about it, he didn't really know how others view him anymore. He's become a stranger rather than their roommate.
Corey looked so sincere towards him and spoke softly. "I think that if you are, I only want to help. And I'll support you through whatever experiences you're still going through."
Sam was grateful. Honest to God he was and he felt so fucking light now. "I just know don't feel like the same Sam." He muttered. Once again, not entirely a lie. He felt so guilty hiding from those who care so much about him. Lying about what truly bothered him, and it just bothered him more.
Finally Corey turned the key and the car became dormant once more. Sam jumped to open the door and leave this conversation. As politely as he could, he shut the car door and booked it to their front porch where a cardboard box that came up to his knee caps greeted them. Obviously not shipped from some professional warehouse, apparent by the dented corners and questionable stain on an entire side of the box.
When Corey caught up to him at the door, key ring spinning around his forefinger, he grinned even more. "Maybe this'll help you feel like the old Sam again." Came the quip.
Sam was about to question it until he actually saw the shipping label.
SHIPPING TO JAKE WEBBER
Oh god. Sam wanted to slap himself. Wanted to bash his head into the wall until this whole house came tumbling down on him. Instead he just squeezed his bag of candy once again. "Is he trying to get a collection out of these?" He asked.
"Not if he keeps burning them. I'll grab it, go ahead and leave the candy in the living room. Devyn wants to separate them."
Sam entered the house hoping they don't have another guest coming in with them. So far he couldn't feel anything, but then again they're sneaky and won't give anything away until the last second.
Corey slid the box into the corner of the entrance. "Jakey-poooooooooo! We got a gift for yoooooou!"
Excited footsteps cluttered from upstairs followed by a much calmer pair. Sam watched from the living room how Jake bounded from a few steps up to the level floor, eyes locking onto his parcel straight away. Colby was at his heels with a questioning look.
“Alright!” Jake chirped.
Sam envied that naive childish excitement the youngest roommate always wore. He longed for the days he could get sick only from joy at the thought of the paranormal. Stupid games claiming they could talk to the dead with a cardboard toy and a candle. Running from shadows cast only from innocent imaginations and the need for a thrill.
Thankfully Corey had banned Ouija boards from the house and they weren't allowed to 'summon' anymore demons. Technically they have all stuck to that rule too. Nothing they had done for spooky videos 'summoned' spirits here. They're either already here and are comfortable or they bring in some doll like the one Jake was unboxing right now, supposedly haunted and bearing unknown backstories.
Nothing they can't burn in their backyard so they can simply get rid of it and call it a day.
He had to admit, when Jake brought in the Dybbuk Boxes, Sam had panic attacks nightly because he could only plague himself with the nightmares of what could have come in. Colby had to calm him every time or else Sam would puke with how scared he was. He wanted to tell Jake to stop, that he didn't know what he was doing. Sam was scared to death that Jake would somehow acquire this Sight as well and ruin his childish spirit, corrupting him and fucking him up beyond repair. It's not a fate he wished upon anyone.
And yet, nothing truly happened as a result. Sam has gotten better at reading evil energies around him, able to tell where these spirits were just by gut instinct alone. The corner of his room where the girl resides was a stark contrast against everything else in this house. The air was crisp in that corner, cold. Yet he would sweat every time he passed it, instantly nauseous.
The demon boxes felt nothing like that. If anything else, it was the contents of the boxes that held negative energies only at the bare minimum levels. They held painful memories, tears soaked in the ink of the pictures telling a mother's sorrows. A child's lost potential. A time long passed and they’re left grieving it's waste. They made Sam feel simply sad. So when they burned the boxes and their treasures, Sam expected a backlash from those entities. He expected some episode to hit him, like a malicious attack similar to those before.
Instead, he was content. Watching the flames consume those sad faces of an unknown family seemed to cleanse the past they shared. Any negative energies they carried crumbled to ashes and dissipated like smoke clawing its way to the starry sky. The destruction supported those souls to the heavens on a chariot of gray clouds. Perhaps finally, there was peace.
Peace. It was not a feeling Sam every really associated with the paranormal.
And peace was all Sam felt in that moment when the tissue paper was ripped away from a small plastic box. Jake observed it with a camera in hand, turning it slowly. "Whoa, guys. This little dude is kind of creepy."
Corey crossed his arms seeing the toy. "You got him off Ebay again?"
"Tch, where else are you gonna get the goods like this?"
Colby made his quiet way to Sam in the living room. He had a raised eyebrow, which always meant he dared you to say the first word. Set the mood of this conversation. Sam sighed. "I'm not gonna freak out over this too, if that's what your thinking."
"That's not what I was thinking." Colby softly reply. It wasn't a defense, it was presenting an option. Sam frowned. "But if you think you're gonna have nightmares tonight, or you feel bad at all, don't be afraid to tell me."
"I just don't know what to expect, okay?" Now that was a defense. "I just still don't know how much of this paranormal stuff is real, or how real any of /them/ are."
After a quick glance to make sure nobody was paying attention- the other roommates were busy fussing over the doll after all- Colby took Sam's hand and gave it an assuring squeeze. They still weren't used to gentle touches and sweet words outside of the safety of their rooms. Should one of the guys catch wind of this…
"Don't expect much from this one. Jake got it for like $15. I've spent more on cheesy horror movies that'd give me a better scare."
Another smile twitched. Sam might have been a down mood lately, paranoid and grumpy, but Colby always knew how to make it better. Life was easier with him around. And he knew he would always bring him back to the surface when Sam found himself drowning too deep.
"Yeah, I guess." Sam squeezed his hand back. With that they let the conversation hang between them. The sun was setting. Halloween night had begun.
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The oven's beeping wail alerted Sam that he'd spent too long scrolling through Twitter. He quickly poured pizza rolls over the baking pan and stuck them in the oven before it beeped at him again. He had completely forgotten what he was doing and mindlessly distracted himself for ten minutes. Sam scratched at his scalp. It totally didn't feel like ten minutes though, more like one or two.
Lapses like that tripped him out. Maybe he was just tired. He looked at the time. 8:30pm. Sweet death steal me now, it's still early. Too early to sneak away and go to sleep without raising questions at least. Apparently the people closest to him think he's depressed, and he can see why. He just didn't want to strengthen that claim though.
With an abrupt start, the sliding glass door leading to the backyard opened and Sam knew just who was coming his way. He could basically feel Jake's question before he even entered the room.
"Hey Sam, you wanna join us? We're about to start recording."
In his hand was the plastic gleam of a planchette. Mentally, Sam groaned. Physically, he smiled. "Heh, come on dude I was just making pizza rolls!" He quipped. Jake was never one to take a simple no for an answer though.
"They can cook without you watching them. Come on, we haven't done this in a while." Jake reasoned. "Plus, we're the only ones who those Wiccans told that know how to use a Ouija board."
That was true, sad to say. Sam didn't have a hard time reaching out to spirits in the first place though so using him had to be some kind of cheat. They're attracted to him whether he liked it or not.
"Come on, Colby and Corey are waiting."
"Colby is playing too?" Sam suspiciously asked. Why did he agree to it?
Jake rolled his eyes a bit. "Well he said that he will if you do."
He didn't know how to feel about that. Was that a trait in loyalty Colby was exhibiting or was he also curious about the paranormal still, knowing that if Sam was involved something was bound to happen.
All in all, this is going to make for an interesting video indeed.
The blonde took a deep breath. "If my pizza rolls burn, I'll eat you instead."
Jake just winked. "Promise dude?"
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Corey was rubbing his hands eyeing the doll awkwardly. He looked as if he expected it to grow another head or something. Colby meanwhile sat in the chair next to the toy taking a Snapchat video of it. The pool light glowing above them in the dark must have made it look creepier. "Happy Halloween, mwahahaha." Colby faked an evil laugh.
Sam closed the glass door, and now that he was standing across from it with only the fireplace between them he could see it clearly. He had been avoiding even seeing, but now he can’t. It was about the size of your average textbook, a small boy with a name embroidered across the neckline of his baby blue shirt. Brandon.
"Brandon isn't that creepy of a name to give a doll." Sam quipped.
Jake tilted his head with a shrugged. "That's not actually his name, dude. Brandon was the neighbor of the girl I got this from. This was his doll."
Corey chuckled. "I didn't know we were breaking gender roles back then in the 70's." He was joking, but his nervous demeanor took all life from it. Jake looked like he wanted to explain everything but he held back with a straight smile. "I'll explain the story when we start recording. I want to get your guys' actual reaction. This is the first time we have a set backstory for a haunted object, true story or not."
"Brandon", or rather, Brandon's doll was a cloth and cotton stuffie instead of your average porcelain doll. He yarn hair was cut short, crazily sticking upwards in a half- assed job to make it obviously a boy. The shorts Brandon's doll wore were obviously cut from a literal different cloth than his shirt. His top was silk- also chopped off shorter- and his bottoms were fabric. He looked like a mediocre job of someone making their first stuffed toy.
If anything, it was the eyes they did perfectly. Two perfectly coal black orbs of plastic placed with care, still shining and clean despite the toy's dirt- stained cloth.
Sam muted out the intro to Jake's video as he eyed the toy up and down. No hot flashes, no bad feeling that followed the toy. No visions of ghost children or scary noises stalking him yet. He had to remind himself that this thing might not be haunted. He's just paranoid, he knows. He refuses to panic over this. Just film the video, Sam. Just be normal. When the camera lands on him, Sam looks up and smiles.
"Corey is just being a meany," Jake says with innocence, "Don't you think he's cute Sam?"
The blonde shrugged. "I think he's got his own charm."
Jake finally pulled out the Ouija board from it's spot on another chair next to the doll. "We'll see just how charming this bad boy is, guys."
Corey pointed at it. "Hey, I said-"
"No Ouija boards INSIDE the house. Don't you want a ghost to haunt our pool too? Have a ghosty pool party?" Jake shot back, dancing a bit.
Corey grumbled, “Come on, dude.” But he didn't say much else to defend himself. "I'm still not touching it. If y'all wanna get possessed, have at it. Just don't bring it in the house."
"You don't have to. Me, Sam and Colby will. Can you be camera man though?"
Colby looked up from his seat. "You really think there's a spirit attached to it Jake?" He asked. Sam noticed Colby's eyes flicker to him for a second.
"There better be, or I want my $15 back."
"I'd say about $15 worth of materials went into making it, so you have your money's worth." Colby grinned as he picked up the doll. He immediately grimaced as he felt the fabric. "Oh, he's all dusty. She didn't wash it before she gave it to you?"
"I think it'd be disrespectful to throw a ghost in a washing machine, dude."
Sam watched it go from Colby's hands into Jake's. "Apparently it still has Brandon's touch, which is why he's supposedly still following it."
The blonde swallowed a thick breath. "So... what happened to Brandon? Why is this doll so special?"
Apparently that's exactly what Jake was waiting for because he immediately set up the doll on the chair again and began his story telling.
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In the Fall of 1977 the body of Brandon Dennis was found in the backyard of his own home. The school bus driver who dropped him off a few days earlier was the last one to see him publicly one fateful Friday afternoon. He was a happy boy of 6 years barely in the first grade. He was the first in his class to know how to tie his shoes.
He was the first to raise his hand to answer spelling questions. He was the first to finish a chapter book by himself. For a kid, prided himself greatly in this.
He was also the first child in the community to come up missing in a long time, and over the course of the weekend the whole neighborhood was shaken to its core. It only took police a few days to find his body. His father wasn't the smartest man, allowing police in his home with a shallow grave in a hidden corner of his backyard, which the dogs easily sniffed out. He thought covering it with grass and sprouting a tomato plant would be good enough.
The 11 year old neighbor girl watched as the small body bag was wheeled away by solemn men in uniform. She watched as a grieving mother tried to attack her husband in handcuffs for what he did to their son.
The girl sat through the funeral wake with her own mother comforting the mournful. She went once every week to visit the aging woman over the next few years to keep her company. When she graduated from high school, the woman offered to help pay for her college. She always dreamed of the day Brandon would walk the stage and get his degree. She was a peaceful woman with long silver hair and a soft heart, despite it becoming hardened through a lifetime of medication and pills.
They weren't the perfect family, Lord knows. But when it was just her and her baby, they were happy. Motherly, with no child to care for, makes one cradle sadness in the place of life.
Before the neighbor girl packed her bags and left the state for college, she visited the older woman one last time. She was having a yard sale, as she too needed to move onto the next stage of her life. She never quite left that hippie vibe the 70's engraved in her, the decade she was most happy until she lost her boy. Flower crowns and denim dress hung behind her as she placed a small doll on the table beside her.
"They found this doll in his backpack when the body was recovered. It was with him when..." She wistfully sighed. "They gave it back to me and the funeral director asked how special it was to him. If I wanted it to be in the coffin with him when they lowered him into the ground." Tears welled in her sunken eyes. Her voice cracked and she continued. "I said 'isn't it enough that my son is being buried a second time?' I wanted this to stay so that some part of him wasn't gone. So that maybe /he/ wouldn't be gone."
In the end she gave the neighbor girl the doll, saying she had to move on with only reminders of his love, not the dirt.
"My husband hated that I made him a doll. Wasn't my fault I thought I was having a girl." She took a drag from her cigarette. "Postpartum hit me real hard and I didn't want to make another one, so I just cut the hair until it was a boy. I thought it looked horrendous but... Brandon loved it all the same."
The neighbor girl never saw the woman again after that. She tried keeping in touch, emailing her how college was and asking where she was now. Slowly the talks died off and now she's left here with the doll of a boy she once knew. She couldn't keep it, of course, as it unsettles her fiance. It felt too wrong to just store it away in a box or attic. Maybe someone else could take care of it. Care to hear the story.
Maybe it was time to let go of the past.
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"But she said it was haunted?" Corey asked.
Jake shrugged. "Her fiance thinks it is. Like, she didn't personally have any experiences but the cats would hiss at it and stuff. Her fiance said he felt like it was always watching him and he had nightmares about it."
"Sounds like he was just paranoid." Sam could say so in confidence. "Maybe the story just freaked him out. Or he was just trying to scare her."
A moment of silence hung as their eyes turned to the toy. Jake held up the planchette for all to see, including the camera. "Only one way to find out!" He exclaimed. Colby and Corey threw up their hands, one in rejoice and one in surrender. "Not touching it, dude!"
"Well then you can just watch I guess." Colby gave his friend's shoulder a good pat, then gestured to Sam and Jake. "Let the experts take it from here."
At this point Sam had many protests. He didn’t want to be upset but frustration clenched his jaw. Not only did he want to object how Colby was roping him into this, he also hated just looking at that damned Ouija board. Breaking the rules to it was what started this mess in the first place. Sure he wasn't intending to disrespect the spirits this time but who knows what could happen now that he’s opened the floodgates. What if a new spirit gets attached to this house? What if they target Jake next?
What was Colby even doing?
A faint beeping started up behind them in the house. "My pizza rolls are done!" Sam rejoiced, playing up for the camera as usual as the guys yelled in excitement. "They aren't for you guys, they're all mine!" He called. Before he went back inside the house Sam made eye contact with Colby. Something solemn passed between them as Sam stated, "And I'll only share with Colby." It was an invitation the other knew to accept.
Colby chuckled. "We'll be right back! Get everything set up."
"Loooosers." Corey called after them before the glass door shut once again.
Sam quickly went to turn the oven off and save his precious pizza rolls from getting too crispy. Colby poked at one oozing out the side. "Are these the combination ones? Dude, you know I don't like these ones, they're just a mess of-"
"I didn't bring you here to actually eat my pizza rolls, Colby." Sam snapped. He was joking before to get them alone, but now he wasn't. "What are you doing? With the Ouija crap? You know that of all things, a spirit board is the last thing I'd want to touch."
It seemed Colby knew he'd get this kind of reaction. However, it didn't do much to make this conversation easier. "I just thought that maybe this could be a productive thing. You know? Not exactly good but viable. I think, if anybody could get an answer, it'd be you.” He shrugged. “At least then we'd know whether we need to be on out guards or not."
"I'm not panicked." Another defense.
"I'm not saying you are," Colby carefully said. "I'm just saying I know you, and you'll wear yourself out thinking about it if we don’t just get it over with."
Sam turned to face him fully. "So what, you think you know what's best for me?"
"That's not what I said." The other countered. "I just... know you. And that worries me."
After a moment of shared silence between them, he started again. His voice was low, more serious. "Look, Corey pulled me aside to talk-"
Since when is Corey the voice of reason around here?
"-and he thinks doing these kinds of harmless things will be good for you. Going back to the roots, right?"
Sam picked at a pizza roll. "He thinks I'm in a creative rut. It's different."
"Well, you are in a rut."
"Colby, you know it’s different!"
The blonde slapped his hand against the countertop and they met from two perspectives in silence. Sam stood his ground against a solid gaze. He often thought about how he must look to the others, but to Colby? Like a goddamn pity case most likely.
"I already said I'll do the video. I never said I’d like it. "
Colby took in a deep breath. His hands did a weird dance, unsure of what to do. "You're not hearing me." Finally his fingers found Sam's, plucking the food from his palm. "They're concerned about you. Corey thinks you're about to have a nervous breakdown or something."
Well he wouldn't be wrong. Sam certainly felt that way.
As Colby continued his hands traveled up Sam's wrists. His thumbs circled over his skin. "They want you to talk to somebody. Like a therapist. They're just worried."
"I. I know." He tilted his head. “But what am I supposed to tell them? That I see dead people and sometimes they hurt me?”
“Well. That’s a start.” Colby chuckled. But when his friend didn’t respond he dropped the smile. “Look, you know you can back out at any point. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
“I know that too.”
It shocked him when a finger hooked under his chin, prompting him to look up. Colby's striking eyes stared him down with question. Hope, perhaps. "And you know? We can tell them. About everything. Your gift, the spirits... us?"
Sam stayed silent. God, was it tempting to just come clean.
“I wouldn’t call it a gift.”
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A few moments later they were back outside with half a plate of pizza rolls left.
Jake was seated already in front of the Ouija Board, the camera to his left and Bradon’s doll to his right. Meaning Sam’s place was across from him, back to the pool and the darkness surrounding it. His shoulders bunched anxiously. He did feel better knowing Colby would be sitting next to him, knee brushing his. Warmth reminding him he wouldn’t be alone.
Here goes…. something. He took his seat, and smiled for the camera.
In actuality using the Ouija board again felt… almost nostalgic. The blonde didn’t want to admit it, but he liked how natural it felt to place his fingers on the planchette. It brought back a feeling of giddiness, making stupid scary videos purely for fun and to entertain his fans.It made him feel like his old self. Looking down at the printed lettering, Sam let his hands glide around in sync with Colby and Jake, circling around the board as the others closed their eyes.
The flood light cast over them caused Jake’s pale face to brighten up in contrast to their dark clothing and the night sky. His silver bleached hair created a halo, his eyelashes created shadows. And for a moment, Sam felt regret curling in his gut. A serpent tantalizing him with the past.
Jake didn’t know spirits really existed. Not like Sam did, at least. And if he keeps on this path of rituals and games, Sam was scared the younger would end up like him. Cursed. Scared to live, and scared of the dead. He’s stuck in the middle and he wishes Jake would move on past this phase.
When Sam finally got the courage to close his eyes as well and give up the wheel to anything that may be with them, twenty minutes passed in the wind.
But instead of falling into another lasp like by the oven he spent each moment drowning in his senses.
Was that just the pool making those soft noises? What was he talking about, it always made that sound. What was that sweaty smell? Oh that was him. His fingertips were on fire feeling for every movement of the planchette.
Jake asked questions curiously, Sam looked for answers anxiously. He hoped somewhere within his mind that something would happen, just so he’d have an answer. He needed to know if someone was still attached to that doll.
If Brandon came in with this doll. If Brandon wasn’t done living just yet.
After a bit, Sam's arms started to ache being still for so long and Jake seemed to notice. He sighed with an exaggerated head roll. “Nothing?” He whined.
Sam shrugged. “Maybe they’re shy. It’s just a kid, after all.” He pointed out mostly to himself. He was optimistic since nothing has occurred yet.
And yet Jake wanted to persist. He placed the planchette in the side of the board. “Give me a few minutes, I have to pee!” He announced, bounding to his slightly numb feet. “Tell the ghosts to wait!”
Once Jake was inside the house Sam allowed himself to relax. He leaned back with a groan. The beginnings of a headache started to trickle behind his eyes. Was this just an anxiety thing? He was tense the entire time, maybe he hurt himself. He rubbed his tired eyes.
Colby leaned forward to make sure this wasn’t too much for his friend.
“You okay Sam?”
The blonde nodded. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Yeah, it’s fine- I think we’re fine.”
Corey was silently plucking the last of the pizza rolls under the flood light, pushed against the wall and unaware of the others uncomfortable state. Sam would see him absently shuffling around if he looked over his shoulder, but that’d aggravate his head even more. It felt like his heart beat was focused on his forehead, trying to burst forth and escape this horrid body.
Sweat gathered under his hoodie at the neck, causing him to itch. He realized this was the beginning of a panic attack, but not knowing what was making him panic made his heart race more, worsening the headache and sending a cold feeling to his gut. He was going to vomit.
“Colby-” He suddenly gasped quietly, reaching out for the other’s arm. “I think I’m panicking. I think- I don’t know what’s- oh god.”
To the brunet’s credit, he was quick to react. “What’s wrong? Here, take a breather. I’m right here.” He spoke quietly so as to not get Corey’s unwanted attention. Sam could tell Colby was trying to remain calm here, but that’s not what he needed. He needed to know why he was panicking like this.
But as his vision tunneled to the doll sitting adjacent to him Sam only had more questions. He felt no negative energies from his side. Instead, any evil he usually felt around his parameters had seemed to invade his senses, bursting from his stomach and eating away at his core, causing his body to spasm and go taut with each hot flash coursing in his brain.
There was no spirit talking to them through the Ouija board. There was no entity sitting next to him in this candle-lit circle. It was him. He was a beacon of negativity ruining everyone’s fun. He was making Colby’s life harder, worrying Corey and disrupting Jake’s video. It was all him.
“Is there something here?”
No. It was all him. Him and his stupid hope that anything could go well for once.
The next hot flash was violent ripping through him, causing him to lurch forwards thinking he was going to puke. His free hand flew up to cover his tightly clamped lips. He realized he leaned so close to the dreaded board that his head nearly hit it. His body was starting to ache and cramp up. The veins in his neck seemed to stretch his hot skin with each heightened heartbeat.
Still he tried not to panic, if only inwardly.
It’s just a panic attack. A strangely terrifying panic attack. An exceptionally painful panic attack.
But as Sam’s vision started to sway, it became apparent how horrifyingly wrong he was. Bile raised and his nose began to run as the board came to life.
None so gently the planchette flickered from one edge of the board to the other, landing on a specific letter.
S.
He gagged.
A.
And his body had a strange thawing sensation as if the grip of this spirit began to lessen.
M.
May god save his soul, because once nose began dripping blood onto the board his body lurched up to his feet completely on autopilot. If he had any coherent thoughts he’d wonder how he must look to Colby, thrashing back to get as far away from the board as possible.
Colby grabbed at his arm to stop Sam from backing up so much, to ask what happened. But something had a much stronger grip than his friend and Sam stumbled - was pushed- all the way back until he tripped on his feet and tumbled over the edge of the pool. The shock of freezing pool water released the grip of his torment. The headache left, along with his sense of dignity.
When he finally realized what had happened, his back had bounced off the ground and he instinctively fought his way to the surface.
Hands grabbed his arms and dragged him onto the cold concrete. Sam shivered, choking on residual bile and chlorinated water. Someone was quick to grab a towel nearby and threw it over him. He pushed himself to his hands and knees, looking up to his saviors- Colby and Corey. Jake was also there apparently, just staying back from the scene at the sliding glass door. Camera in hand and pointing right at him. How much did it catch? How much did any of them see?
“Wh-what h-happened?” His teeth were chattering. It was disorienting having been overheating a moment ago, and now he was absolutely freezing and soaking wet.
“You took a dive dude! Are you okay?” Corey pushed back Sam’s sopping hair from his face.
He knew he was just dunked in the pool by whatever was on the board. He knew what just happened. He knew he knew. But he couldn’t seem to process it because he didn’t know how to. He must seem pathetic to his friends. To the fans who will watch this video when it gets uploaded. He’s pathetic to himself, to be honest.
And he’s embarrassed, kneeling at the feet of his friends because of fucking Brandon’s doll. His now steady eyes locked onto those of the doll. Sitting innocently and without ill-will. Just another decoration mocking him. Sam made himself stand and stare down the doll, feeling so frustrated he could hardly breathe. He couldn’t freak out and rage over this, Corey would get even more worried and Jake had a camera on him.
He’d be lying if he wasn’t tempting to throw everything down the drain though. He was so tired of being these things’ punching bag.
“I… I guess I slipped. Heh.” He didn’t even try to be convincing. Suspicions grew like weeds around him and Sam just wanted to find a way out of this forest. Sorrows sprouted next. If his life were a garden, these spirits were the soil, the single cause of his worries and doubts.
And now this dirt-covered toy decided to mow over all he has, starting with his dignity.
Humiliation was next to wash over him and his eyes dropped to the ground. To the Ouija board.
The planchette had moved again. Or maybe it wasn’t moved at all.
It sat perfectly in the middle of the board, pointing straight at Brandon’s doll.
Rather, straight at Brandon.
Sam started crying.