Chapter Text
It wasn’t just raining. No, it was the whole stormy shebang. Thunderclaps and bolts of lightning. Sheets of rain coming down from a darkened sky. And in the middle of this dark and stormy night drove three teenage boys and their father, the group on their way home from a camping trip. The idea of the camping trip had seemed like a good one, but after two and a half days together in the old beat up van patience was running thin. Getting rained out hadn’t helped, and the fact they hadn’t packed enough snacks for the way back pushed emotions over the edge.
As the storm raged out on the road, Phil, the boys’ dad, was trying desperately to pay attention to the slippery way before him, but the trio was not making it easy.
“Fitz, stop shoving Hunter’s face into the window please,” Phil said, eyes quickly darting to the fight through the rearview mirror.
“He stole my crisps.”
“But sharing is caring, Fitzy,” Hunter said, though it was hard to hear with his face against the glass.
“Sharing? You ate the whole bag!”
“Enough!” Phil said, cutting off the retort about to leave Hunter’s window-squished lips. “Fitz, I said knock it off. Mack, stop laughing and trade places with Fitz. And Hunter, handover your ration. Now, all of you behave!”
Just as Phil turned around to give his final order, many things happened at once. There was a great flash of lightning, a loud clap of thunder, and a smoking boom as the old van’s engine finally went kaput. This was all followed by several shouts, a high pitched scream, and the screeching of tires as Phil just managed to get them safely off the road.
For a moment there was just the sound of heavy breathing and rainfall until Hunter whispered, “Bloody hell.”
Like Phil had suspected, fixing the engine was a no go. The rain was falling too hard to focus and he couldn’t see very well, especially not in the dark. Even if he could see what he was doing, they didn’t have the tools to fix it.
“Looks like we’re walking,” Phil said as he slid the van door open.
“What?”
“Walking?”
“In the rain?”
“Yes. And don’t give me those looks, I’ve got a plan. Cool how you all took turns there with the questions, though,” Phil said.
With just a bit of grumbling, the boys gathered up their hiking bags and hopped out of the van and into the rain. Once everything was all locked up and everyone was set, they began their walk down the side of the road.
They weren’t on a major road of any sorts, but rather one that a car would have to pull over to let another pass. The trees along the sides seemed to grow taller in the darkness and the rain did not help the creep factor pervading the air. With a collective shiver, they all walked a little bit closer together.
Phil had seen a rather large house less than a mile back with all its lights on and was sure that the owners must have a phone they could use to call a tow. Maybe it was even an old bed and breakfast they could stay at for the night, but he was less hopeful of that.
“You know, this is how murder mysteries happen,” Mack said through chattering teeth. They had been walking five minutes and the rain had already soaked them all to the bone.
Fitz shook his head slowly, his eyes trained directly ahead as he avoided looking at the trees. “Please don’t say things like that, Mack. It’s unsettling.”
“It doesn’t have to be a murder mystery,” Hunter interjected. “Could be a ghosty house.”
“Do you mean haunted?” Mack asked.
“No, Mack. I meant that a ghost lives there.”
“If a ghost lives there it’s haunted.”
“Not if only the ghost lives there. If only the ghost lives there, then it’s just his house, innit?”
“I don’t think so. Fitz, help me out.”
“There’s no such thing as ghosts,” Fitz supplied as his answer.
Hunter rolled his eyes. “If that’s the case, why are you so scared of the trees?”
“Because there could be bears or something.”
“Bears?”
“Yeah, bears. Or murderers.”
Mack nodded. “That’s what I was saying.”
“Boys, there are no bears or murders in the woods,” Phil huffed, flashing the flashlight over each of his sons’ faces.
“Yeah,” Hunter deadpanned, “because they’re all at the house.”
Phil tilted his head to one side and sighed. “Helping or hurting, Hunter?”
“Hurting. Sorry.”
By the time they had reached the house, the boys were a soaking wet mess. Mack had tripped over a rock stuck in the ground and had just narrowly avoided taking a face full of mud. Hunter, too busy laughing, had not seen the hand come up to pull him down as well. Fitz, meanwhile, had stepped heavily into a puddle and splashed himself and Phil with an extra bit of dirty water. It didn’t much matter though as the rain was coming down upon them as if they had walked under a shower head.
They had just about had it when they saw the house. Standing at the foot of the stone pathway up, a flash of lightning back lit the house and thunder rumbled soon after.
“Well that’s not creepy at all,” Hunter said, staring up at the mansion before them.
It was an old Victorian home, an imposing structure against the dark sky. There was a tower with a pointed roof, a chimney billowing with smoke, and high steps leading up to the porch and the front door. On the mailbox just outside the gate read M. May and there were unsettling claw marks on the lid. It was hard to make out all the intricate details of the place, but the windows were lit up with golden light and one could make out a curtain moving shut in one of the ones on the second floor.
“Alright,” Phil said, pretending for the sake of the teens to not be creeped out, “let’s see if they have a phone we could use.”
The boys shared apprehensive looks between each other, but they followed Phil up the path all the same. An eagle’s face made up the door knocker, a cast iron loops in its beak to signal the arrival of guests. Phil used it twice before stepping a bit away from the door. Again, they saw movement in one of the windows and there were a few voices before the door was pulled open.
“Hello,” said the woman who answered, her voice as steady and cool as the rain. She was quite the image, standing in the door frame with the golden light at her back. She was wearing all black pajamas with a silk black robe with sleeves that billowed to the ground. Her facial expressions were a mask, but each of them men felt she had peered into their souls for a moment and shivered in spite of themselves.
“Uh,” Phil stuttered, his brain momentarily frozen, “Hi. My name is Phil Coulson. My sons and I--the boys behind me--we were just coming back from a camping trip and our car broke down. We were just wondering if you had a phone that we could use.”
“I do,” the woman said, but she didn’t move to let them in.
“May we use it?”
She stared at them, her eyes going to each face before she spoke again. “It’s in the parlor. Try and keep quiet, please. My students are trying to sleep.”
“This is a school?” Hunter whispered loudly to Fitz and Mack.
It was the woman who responded. “Yes. It is a school for gifted young girls, so you understand why I wish you not to bother them.”
Hunted answered with wide eyes and a scout salute. “Yes, ma’am.”
The boys took great care wiping off their shoes and leaving their dirty jackets outside before entering the house, for they had good manners and they were slightly freaked out. The inside of the place was as beautiful as the outside. Original wood flooring, ornate wood details in the archways, delicate chandeliers and brilliant brass fixtures. But what really caught the trio of young boy’s eyes was the movement on the stairs as they walked towards the parlor. On the landing, they had just seen a sweet looking face with glowing eyes peeking around the banister before it was quickly pulled away by a floating hand.
“Did that little girl have red eyes?” Hunter said the moment they were safe in the parlor. By the strain in his voice, he was trying very hard not to appear completely freaked out.
Fitz, however, didn’t even try to hide his panic. “You’re focused on the red eyes and not the floating hand bit?”
“What in the hell kind of school is this?” Mack said.
Phil quickly shushed the trio, using his hands to emphasize his point. “Listen,” he said, his voice remaining steady, “we’re just going to use the phone and then go, okay.”
“And ignore the floating hand thing?” Fitz said incredulously, his mouth hanging open.
“And the glowing red eyes?” Hunter added.
“And every other creepy thing about this place?” Mack finished.
“Wow, you guys are getting really good with the piggy back conversations. But yes, we are going to ignore it. Fitz, you said it yourself, there is no such thing as ghosts. It’s probably just the students pranking us for fun.”
Fitz seemed a bit mollified, but Mack was not. “The woman at the door said this was a school for gifted girls. Gifted could mean magic.”
“Or ghosty,” Hunter added.
“Or--”
Mack’s next comment was cut off by the small clearing of a throat. All four men turned around quickly. In the archway of the parlor stood a girl about Fitz’s age, for she couldn’t be older than fifteen. She was very pale with long brown hair and hazel eyes. Her feet were clad in blue slippers and her pajamas were patterned with stars. She seemed almost unearthly as she stood there with a tray of tea cups and packaged cookies.
“Hello,” she said softly, “I’ve brought you all tea and biscuits. May isn’t one for coffee so I’m afraid we don’t have any, but I can go back if you’d rather have cocoa.”
“Tea’s fine,” Fitz blurted before anyone could say anything.
“Wonderful. I’ll just leave it here on the coffee table.”
Gliding past the youngest of the trio with a smile, the girl placed down the tray and left without another word.
“I wouldn’t have minded cocoa,” Mack said, but he smiled as he shot Fitz a knowing, older brother, look.
While Phil called for the tow truck, the boys drained their tea and hungrily ate their cookies. They had been hungry before the hike to the house, but now they were desperate for something to eat. And the tea was a warm comfort after everything. They only looked up from their mugs after Phil hung up the phone.
“Bad news boys,” he said with a sigh, “it looks like they can’t send a tow until the morning. Roads are too dangerous going up this way.”
“So are we going to march back in the rain and sleep in the van or something?” Hunter asked.
“That won’t be necessary,” came the voice that had answered the door.
“How are they all so light on their feet?” Fitz mumbled to Mack who responded with a shrug.
“I have an extra room you can stay in for the night. It’s probably best if you bathe first.”
“Thank you very much, but we would hate to intrude,” Phil tried to say, but the woman shook her head.
“You wouldn’t be. I’d rather you stay here than die out in the cold.”
“Fair point. Thank you.”
“Your room is the first door on the right, the bathroom is the door at the very end of the hall. Goodnight.”
And she left the room without another word.
“So, we’re just going to stay overnight in the creepy haunted boarding school?” Hunter asked as they gathered up their packs from the entryway.
“Fantastic,” Mack muttered.
Phil cut them off with a shushing noise, pointing up the stairs to indicate that someone might be listening. Then he said in a voice so quiet the boys had to lean in, “Listen, I don’t know what’s going on in this house, but I don’t think it’s anything dangerous. What is dangerous is going back out in that storm. So let’s be gracious guests and get ready for bed.”
The boys mumbled their agreement and followed their father up the steps. While Hunter took his turn in the bathroom, the other three made their way to their room. Fitz was the last one through and therefore was the one who turned around to shut the door. At least he was about to, but someone in the hall caught his attention. It was the girl who had brought them tea. She was walking up the steps with the woman in charge of the school and Fitz couldn’t help but overhear their conversation.
“You’re supposed to be in bed, Jemma,” the woman said in a motherly way.
The girl laughed lightly before sobering at the look on the woman’s face. “Sorry, May. It’s just that no one is asleep. Daisy saw those boys through the window and woke everyone up.”
“I thought I heard you all spying over the banister.”
“Well, Robin was a bit obvious, but Daisy pulled her back.”
May smiled ever so slightly before wishing Jemma goodnight. Once May had left, Jemma started to walk towards Fitz’s room. Before he could shut the door, she had spotted him.
“Hello again,” she said with a beaming smile.
“Hi,” Fitz just managed to say. He had been momentarily stunned by the look she had given him, but was proud he had managed to say anything at all.
“How was the tea?” she asked.
“It was wonderful,” he replied.
“Oh good. Well, have a goodnight.”
“You too.”
With that, she continued back down the hall. Fitz was again about to shut the door when he saw something that froze him where he stood. Instead of opening the door to her room, Jemma had simply walked through it. Flabbergasted, Fitz had to blink several times and force himself to shut the door.
Mack looked up at him from his seat on the ground. “Who were you talking to--wait, are you okay?”
“She went through the door,” Fitz said, his eyes very wide and his lungs unable to catch a breath.
“Who?”
“Jemma. The girl with the tea. She just--just--just went through the door. Like it was open, but it wasn’t. I know it was closed.”
“Like a ghost?” Mack asked.
“Yeah,” Fitz said, still not really breathing, “like a ghost.”