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The Monastery of Saint John was not exactly typical Unsolved fare. Ryan didn’t like to ghost hunt at too many religious places, it was harder to be funny while tiptoeing around certain subjects. And even though he wasn’t much of a church-goer, he still didn’t want to take his chances pissing off anyone in the afterlife. Why poke that particular bear if you didn’t have to?
But the monastery was a bevy of spiritual activity, the boards were lit up with EVPs and FBAs. And Ryan had an ace up his sleeve to prove to Shane that they were all real. See, the Monastery of Saint John had a very particular rule for everyone who visited, whether they be religious or not. You could not speak. Not a word. Because if you did? An unruly demon would be unleashed from hell itself.
“This is such a stupid idea,” Shane said as they filmed from the monastery’s perimeter. “How do you think you’re going to be quiet for an entire night in there? You yell at everything.”
“Mild yelling is allowed, just no actual words,” he explained.
“Weird loophole. Does this noise-hating demon actually care about specific words? Can we talk in a different language?”
“Just no talking! And I know you don’t believe, but it’s the only way to get film here, okay? So, please, just don’t talk?”
Shane sighed. “I still think it’s a dumb idea. Especially since it’s just us the rest of the night.”
The uber-religious owners had allowed the crew to film the rest of the grounds, speaking and all, but had outright refused to let more than two people onto the church itself. That’s where the supposed demon was housed, afterall.
“I guess text us if you need rescuing?” Katie suggested. “Otherwise we’ll be back at 7 to get you.”
Ryan hoisted his sleeping bag over his shoulder. “Will do.”
The rest of the crew wished them luck as they headed back to the rental van. Shane pointed his camera at Ryan.
“Ten bucks says you crack first.”
“I’ll take that bet. I’m not going to be responsible for unleashing a demon on us.”
“Sure, Ryan. That’s definitely going to happen.”
“Famous last words, big guy. Famous last words.”
The church was old with tall ceilings stretching up to twenty or so feet. The stained glass windows were hard to make out at night, but Ryan could tell they must be spectacular during the day.
The silence was eerie. Ryan had never liked the silence. Even when he went on his solo investigations, he turned his trusty spirit box on to keep him company. But without being able to ask questions, there was no need for it tonight. Swallowing, he started setting up a couple static cams while Shane unfurled their sleeping bags. They were more for set dressing than anything; there was no way Ryan could sleep in here.
A small crash tore Ryan from his thoughts. He yelped, quickly covering his mouth. Shane was biting down on his lip, trying desperately not to laugh as he pointed to his phone on the ground. Ryan flipped him off as he came down from the sudden adrenaline spike. This was going to be harder than he thought.
After they finished getting everything ready for the night, Ryan sat on one of the pews, holding out a digital recorder. He hoped that if there were any voices on it, they would be ones he wouldn’t hear until later.
Shane shoved his phone under Ryan’s nose. He’d written something in the notes app.
This is even more boring than usual
Ryan snatched the phone, typing his own message.
You should be thanking me. No spirit box here
Shane’s eyebrows went up, asking “Really?”. When Ryan nodded, Shane did an obnoxious dance, gyrating his hips in a very upsetting way. Ryan had to cover his mouth with his bicep to stay quiet.
Even though Ryan wouldn’t admit it, Shane was right. It was boring, sitting in the silence, waiting for any kind of noise. Everything was amplified, from the movement of their clothes to the various bugs chirping outside. Ryan’s heartbeat was loudest of them all, even in the relative quiet. He closed his eyes, repeating his mantras.
I am not my fear. I am not my fear. I am not my fear.
“Then what are you?”
Ryan’s eyes flew open as he screamed. The voice had been high-pitched, icy, nothing like Shane’s. Shane’s head was swiveling around, his eyes narrowed. He opened his mouth to speak, but Ryan was able to cover it with his hand before he could. He shook his head, begging Shane to be quiet.
Furiously, Shane typed out on his phone.
We’re being pranked. This is bullshit
Oh fuck. That meant Shane heard it too.
Ryan wrote back.
I don’t think that was a prank. It was talking to me!
Shane rolled his eyes.
If they fuck with us again, i’m bailing
Well, Ryan wasn’t opposed to that. He nodded, hugging his arms to his chest. Maybe it was a coincidence, what the voice said. Maybe the ghost was reliving a crisis of faith. There were reports of a priest haunting the grounds, after all.
*crash*
One of their cameras fell over. Ryan’s heart pounded as Shane went to pick it up. Shane held it out, trying to show Ryan that the tripod was wobbly, but Ryan didn’t believe that was why it fell. Something was wrong here. Off. Shane and other skeptics never understood what Ryan meant by that when he said it, and hell, Ryan didn’t know exactly himself. But he knew this place was different than most of the places they’d ever been ghost hunting before. An oppressive unseen force enveloped Ryan until he couldn’t move but to breathe.
*click*
All Ryan could do was watch as Shane’s attention was turned to where the click had come from. The front door. Using his flashlight, Shane went to investigate. He jiggled the door handle, a test. The door didn’t move. He put the flashlight in his mouth, using both hands this time. It still didn’t move. He pounded on the door. Nothing.
I am not my fear. I am not my fear. I am not—
“Yes, you are.”
A whoosh of wind swept over the front of the church, knocking down their cameras again and chilling Ryan to the bone. He buried his face in his hands, trying desperately not to yell and make things even worse.
A warm hand on his back. He tried to ignore it, focusing on the stars he was seeing behind his closed eyes. The hand shook his shoulder.
Go away go away go away
Ryan’s phone vibrated in his pocket. It startled him enough to drop his hands. Only then did he realize it was Shane’s hand on his shoulder.
There was only a sliver of moonlight across his face, the shadows carving mountains with the sharp angles of Shane’s face. He tugged on Ryan’s shoulder, urging him to stand.
Shaking, Ryan did. Shane held up his now-off flashlight, clicking the button to show that it would no longer turn on. Fucking great.
Ryan pulled out his phone and typed.
We gotta go
Shane took one look and nodded.
Using their phones as flashlights, they checked for other exits beyond the front door. There was an emergency exit at the back, but no matter how hard they pushed, it wouldn’t budge. It wasn’t even like it was jammed or that something was holding it closed on the other side. It was like a solid wall that had never been a door in the first place.
They tried to text the crew next, but they couldn’t get a signal in any part of the church. They couldn’t even text each other, nothing would send. Shane wrote a note on his phone, suggesting they break the windows, but Ryan refused. This was all historical stained glass. BuzzFeed’s insurance would never cover it and that could be the end of Watcher as they both knew it if they had to pay for it.
Ryan checked the time. It was 3:18am. The crew was going to pick them up at 7. They just had to survive a little less than four hours in this demon-infested silent church. They could do that, right?
“Can you?”
Or not.
Shane was going to absolutely murder the assholes that owned this place. Or, at the very least, sue the pants right off of them. Maybe both. Probably both.
Pumping voices into the “silent” church to scare folks was pretty ingenious, Shane had to admit that. But locking him and Ryan in was absolutely bullshit. What if there was a fire? Or a medical emergency? It reminded him of one of those immersive haunted houses that were always getting themselves into trouble for taking things too far with the guests. A few had tried to get himself and Ryan to visit over the years and Shane had always refused. Fucking assholes.
Shane wished they had better lights than their phones to actually investigate this place, to find the speakers and other practical effects that were terrorizing Ryan and irritating himself. One of their cameras had a chip in the screen from getting knocked over. The owners better plan on paying for that (and explaining themselves to Katie).
Ryan was sitting against the front door, reaching up to jiggle the door handle every few seconds in case someone decided to finally unlock them. Shane brought a sleeping bag over to him, nearly tripping over it three times on the way. This fucking place.
He’d intended to just hand Ryan the bag and go back to his own, but Ryan’s foot connected with Shane’s. He patted the floor next to him, motioning for Shane to join him. Shane didn’t exactly want to sit next to the cold door, but he could so rarely say no to Ryan in the best of circumstances. With a silent sigh, he joined him.
Ryan unzipped the sleeping bag so it would cover them like a blanket, which helped somewhat with the chill. Ryan was still trembling though, his fear more powerful than warmth. Normally, Shane knew how to get Ryan out of his head on these shoots. Crack some jokes, distract him, or, worst case scenario, let him decompress somewhere away from whatever was scaring the bejesus out of him. He didn’t know how to help when they couldn’t leave or speak.
Tentatively, Shane wrapped an arm around Ryan’s back, squeezing his shoulder. It was hard to tell in the darkness, but Shane thought he saw the shadow of a smile across his face. Shane smiled back, hoping it would help.
Just a few more hours of this and then we’re out of here.
“Are you sure about that?”
Shane twitched, his heart pumping with shock. Whoever was doing the voice work should get a raise, it was extremely creepy and well-done.
Ryan pressed himself closer against Shane, his breathing like a ragged hangnail. It was all Shane could do to not break his silence and tell him it would be okay, that these shitheads would have to let them out in the morning when the crew came back, that this was all some cruel, stupid prank. But he knew speaking would only piss Ryan off and he really didn’t want to have a fight in a 19th century monastery at nearly 4am.
Ryan pulled his phone out and quickly typed something.
Its responding to my thoughts wtf
Shane shook his head. They were just random phrases, probably from a script called Lines To Make An Anxious Ghost Hunter Shit His Pants. Ryan rolled his eyes, pointing to the message emphatically, while Shane just shrugged. Had some of the lines been a little on the nose? Sure. But that was bound to happen when the only other voices were in your head.
A blast of cold air hit them. Shane had to bite down hard on his tongue to keep from swearing out loud. These motherfuckers, weren’t the voices enough?
The sleeping bag trembled with Ryan’s nerves. Shane had never seen him so wigged out. Even in the dim light, Shane could see the whites of Ryan’s knuckles, his hands clenched into tight fists. Going on instinct, Shane slid his arm back from around Ryan’s shoulders to help undo Ryan’s clenched fingers.
Carefully, Shane unfurled Ryan’s left hand, laying the fingers out flat. He gave Ryan a thumbs up, trying to show him that this was better. Ryan just stared at him. His eyes were nearly black, his pupils were so dilated with fear. He almost looked like one of those demons he was so afraid of.
Shane undid Ryan’s other fist, trying his best to relax his fingers. He waved his own around, hoping Ryan would follow suit or at least roll his eyes at him. He got one better—a small grin. No amount of darkness could keep Ryan Bergara’s smile hidden.
Shane grinned back, nudging his shoulder, telling him it was okay. Ryan shook his hands out before giving Shane a thumbs up. Shane did his own thumbs up, bumping their fists together and Ryan let out a stifled giggle. A small snort forced its way out of Shane as they kept knocking their hands against each other, like it was some sort of thumb war.
“Don’t do that.”
Ryan covered his mouth as a yelp escaped his lips. With his other hand, he gripped Shane’s fingers. Shane was just about to reassure him when a chill ran up his vertebrae to the base of his neck.
“I know what you want.”
Shane whipped his head around, trying to find the speaker that was by his head. Ryan tapped him on the shoulder, his eyebrows raised in question. Had he not heard that one? Shane motioned to his ear, but Ryan just shook his head. Well. That was weird.
Suddenly, Ryan was up on his feet, pushing against the door with all his considerable strength. Shane scrambled to join him, mostly out of concern. Ryan pounded on the door, kicking it, doing everything he could to open it, but he would not budge. Shane grabbed his shoulders before he hurt himself.
Tears were falling down Ryan’s cheeks as he struggled against Shane’s hold, pointing towards the door. This was ridiculous. Shane got out his phone and wrote, I’m aware it doesn’t open, we tried this an hour ago.
Quickly, Ryan tapped out his own message.
ITS COMIG AFTERYOU
Shane patted down his body, trying to show Ryan that he was fine, but Ryan just adamantly shook his head, pointing to his phone. They must have whispered some bullshit in his ear after they did to Shane. This was all such horseshit! Furious, Shane flipped the bird with both hands, shoving it at every corner of this stupid church he thought a hidden camera might be. Fuck these goddamn motherfuck—
A force unlike anything Shane had ever felt before pushed him off his feet, but somehow, he hadn’t landed on the floor. Instead, Ryan was clutching onto him for dear life, his arms wrapped haphazardly around Shane’s torso. Shakily, Shane righted himself, trying to pull himself out of Ryan’s grasp, but Ryan wouldn’t let go. He almost spoke right then, pissed off enough at all of this to just say fuck it and break a $10,000 window to get out of here, but the fear on Ryan’s face stopped him. Normally, Ryan’s fear was hilarious, one of Shane’s favorite things in the world. But this fear, this was different. He looked terrified for his life. Shane craned his head to look behind him. A couple yards away was a completely black void. Not a weird shadow, not a black piece of architecture. A colorless form, hovering in the middle of a church aisle. Shane blinked, thinking—hoping—it was an eye problem. Maybe he had something in his eye. Maybe it was a floater. He blinked. He kept blinking.
It was still there.
Shane’s certainty that this was all some stupid bullshit prank quickly disintegrated.
Ryan couldn’t stop staring. Horrible black voids do tend to draw the eye. It just stood there, immobile, but oppressive. He didn’t know what to do. The ghost hunting boards had not prepared him for this.
Shane twisted around in Ryan’s arms, so his back was against Ryan’s chest. Ryan couldn’t see the void now, his vision blocked. Ryan didn’t know if he did that on purpose or not, but he was grateful all the same. Without the void fucker to distract him, Ryan shuffled backwards until his back hit the door, pulling Shane back with him. Knowing it wouldn’t budge, Ryan tried the door handle anyway. Solid. Of course.
Ryan peeked around Shane to keep tabs on the void. To his horror, it was closer now, a mass of nothingness only feet away from them. Ryan watched, his breath tangled in his throat, waiting for it to get even closer, but it was still again. Jesus fucking christ what the fuck.
“I’m going to take what you love, remember?” that awful chill of a voice slyly whispered in Ryan’s ear. “Just a matter of time.”
It was everything Ryan could do to hold his tongue, to not give in to what this demon fuck wanted. Doing his best to ignore the pounding of his heart, he looked around the church for a place to hide. There wasn’t much, just the pews and some old bibles. Maybe they could break a window. Paying the insurance would be better than dying, Ryan was pretty sure.
Flat against the wall, Ryan began to inch slowly towards the nearest stained glass. A portrait of some saint or another, surrounded by angels. Where the fuck were some angels when you needed them? He assumed Shane would get the idea and follow, but he was standing just as immobile as the void, his skin whiter than winter. Ryan had always wondered what would happen when Shane was confronted with the paranormal and apparently freezing in terror was it. Ryan couldn’t blame him, though. He hadn’t been preparing for this for half of his life like Ryan had.
Ryan grabbed Shane’s hand and yanked him back against the church wall. Shane stumbled, blinking rapidly at Ryan. Ryan pointed to the window with his other hand. Shane got the idea, nodding and following him.
They did not drop their hands.
As they rounded the corner, the void snapped to them, now mere inches away. Shane’s free hand immediately covered Ryan’s mouth, muffling the scream.
No no no no. They were so close. Fuck you.
“Yes, yes, yes, yes.”
A surge of defiance bubbled over in him. Pulling Shane along with him, he sprinted towards the window. This time, the void did not follow.
They began pounding on the window, but the glass was too strong. Shane threw his dead flashlight at it and just banged against the angels, falling helplessly to the floor. Tears burned anew in Ryan’s eyes. He’d been so sure this would work, that this would be their salvation…
Shane tapped his shoulder. He was pointing to the ground, to the line of moonlight shining through the window in the stained glass’ pattern. It stretched to their left, cutting a clean line against where the void was still hovering in the corner.
A petal of hope blossomed in Ryan’s chest. It couldn’t follow them into the light. As long as they had light, they had a chance.
He shook Shane’s arm excitedly, hoping Shane felt the same. His smile was tight, but it was still a smile.
They arranged themselves so they would both be in as much light as possible. Shane with his back to the wall, Ryan in front of him with his back to Shane’s chest. With every minute that passed and the moon traveled in the sky, the light shifted and they had to shift with it too. They did it for what felt like days, but couldn’t have been more than an hour. Time passed slowly when there was nothing to do but try not to die in the silent dark.
“You’re going to run out of light.”
Shane tensed up behind Ryan. He must have heard that one too. It was true, they were running out of windows and moon as she began her journey to the other side of the world. But the moon leaving meant the sun was on her way. Ryan wasn’t one to be optimistic, but he had to hold onto this one. It was all they had.
Shane’s arms suddenly winded themselves around Ryan’s chest, hugging him with more strength than Ryan thought Shane had. Swallowing, Ryan grabbed Shane’s wrist, trying to tell him it would be okay. Shane’s nose gently tapped Ryan’s ear as he shook his head. Even like this, Shane didn’t believe him. He never did.
Ryan tried to crane his neck back to prove him wrong, somehow, but a thumb across his throat stopped him. Shane was gently tracing the line of his adam’s apple, his touch like velvet. Ryan had long wondered what Shane’s hands would feel like on him. This would be the way he found out, on the brink of demon destruction.
“Stop that.”
Ryan ignored the voice, forcing his fingers in between Shane’s across his chest. Shane flexed them together, squeezing tightly. Taking that as the yes it was meant to be, Shane softly pressed his mouth to the side of Ryan’s head. All Ryan could hear were puffs of breath, the quiet slicking of a tongue over lips. Shane left another kiss, this time right in front of Ryan’s ear.
The voice screamed this time, an incoherent rage.
Fuck you, Ryan thought, hoping the piece of shit heard him.
He twisted around in Shane’s arms, not waiting another goddamn second. If they were going to die tonight, Ryan wasn’t going to go without knowing what a true kiss with Shane felt like. He slid their mouths together, hoping to take as much of the fear out of Shane as he could. Ryan could handle it. It was what he knew best.
A giant hand cradled the back of Ryan’s head as Shane kissed him as deeply as anyone ever had. More screams, ear-splitting, but Shane’s soft murmurs against Ryan’s lips were stronger.
I love you. I hope you know. If it’s the last thing you hear from me, I want it to be that.
“I’m going to WIN!”
I love you, I love you, I’ve loved you so long.
Suddenly, Shane flipped them around. Ryan’s back was against the wall and now he could see the void that was just an arm’s length away. The moonlight was almost gone, only enough for one person to stand in.
Oh you motherfucker.
Ryan tried to pull Shane up against him, but he just shook his head, his hand cupped around Ryan’s face. Tears sprung to Ryan’s eyes, spilling down over Shane’s thumb. No no no, he was not doing this noble sacrifice bullshit. C’mon sun, where are you?
The void inched up behind Shane. Color began to drain from him, not just his skin, but his hair and clothing as well, like he was being desaturated. No no no no no no no no—
Shane’s hand fell from Ryan’s face as the blackness pulled him away.
“NO!”
Shane had always thought dying would be painful. Instead, he felt nothing. Literally nothing. He couldn’t feel the clothes on his skin, the ache in his calves from standing for so long, not even Ryan’s tear on his thumb. His eyesight was tunneling in, black all around except for Ryan right in front of him. No sound either, just a muted heaviness of Shane’s own breathing. It was all leaving him. Sight, sound, touch, smell, taste, emotion. Soon, he would be just an easily crumbled husk.
At least the last thing he would get to see was Ryan’s face. Even if he was crying, trying to delay the inevitable, it was still the most beautiful face Shane had ever seen. All of Shane’s favorite memories involved that face. And now so would his last one.
“I knew you’d give in.”
Shane couldn’t deny it. He’d never been a fighter. At least he’d saved Ryan. One last good deed.
Shane took one final breath, waiting for the end to overtake him. Maybe he’d see Paco again. That’d be nice.
“NO!”
Ryan’s voice rang out like a shot, cracking the air in two. Sensitivity returned so quickly to Shane’s nerves that his shirt felt like it was made of pins, pricking all along his torso and arms. His knees gave out and he fell to the floor with a thud, the pain reverberating throughout his body.
Ryan was on top of him, crying and shouting.
“Get away! GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HIM!”
He was so loud, every syllable nearly puncturing Shane’s eardrums. But with the pain came strength. Shane raised his head, trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. The void was shrinking, shrieking with every word Ryan spoke.
“Shut up! SHUT UP!”
“FUCK OFF!” Ryan yelled.
“What…?” Shane asked, his voice like sandpaper.
Ryan must not have heard him. “You can’t have what I love! I won’t let you, you fucking piece of fucking goddamn shit!”
“Then I’ll take YOU instead!”
“No!” Shane shouted hoarsely. Ryan heard him this time, his head snapping around. Using those impossibly broad shoulders, Shane pulled himself up to a sitting position. The shadow of Ryan’s smile brought tears to Shane’s eyes.
“You can’t have either of us!”
“Yes, I can!”
“Fuck you!” both Ryan and Shane shouted at the same time.
With a blood curdling screech, the demon void whatever dissipated into thin air. One second it was there, terrorizing them, and next, it was gone. Shane heard a click, like the lock of a door. Without a word, he stood, pulling Ryan up alongside him. They ran, bursting through the door with no resistance. The sun was just beginning to rise, the sky still inky dark in the west. Shane and Ryan ran east. They ran until they hit the fence that marked the property line and hopped over, collapsing into the wet, dewy grass, their breaths heavy and their tears heavier. The closest Shane had ever come to a near-death experience involved an avocado pit, his body didn’t know how to handle all this adrenaline and swell of emotions.
Ryan cradled Shane to his chest, holding him as carefully as you would a wounded bird. There were a hundred—no, a thousand—things Shane wanted to say to him. To tell him. He wanted to rip open his own chest and let all of the confessions pour out of him, once and for all. But the words wouldn’t come.
With the gentlest kiss pressed against the crown of Shane’s head, Ryan told him it was okay. But would it? After everything that just happened, would they actually be okay? Shane had his doubts.
“I owe you ten bucks, by the way,” Ryan then whispered into Shane’s hair.
Shane wheezed into Ryan’s sweater as tears of laughter joined the rest down his cheeks.
Yeah. They were going to be okay.