Chapter Text
Eugene Coli was not a well-liked man. A horrid rotting bacterium of a person, most people who knew him had a very low opinion of him. He was a businessman of the worst sort: entitled, cruel, and currently the world record holder for OSHA violation speedruns. With his whole evil capitalist shtick, it was no surprise that he was all alone on Christmas Eve with only his copy of the Sims 4 to keep him company.
He couldn’t even access the gallery because of the haunted house he lived in. Stupid blocked internet access.
And so there Eugene was, drinking a Monster and picking an outfit for his sim, when his sister decided to pay him a visit.
“Merry Christmas!”
Eugene simply groaned in return.
Nina gasped upon seeing the can in his hand: “I told you not to drink too much of those! That better not be your dinner.”
“Don’t worry. I have some leftover pizza in the fridge.”
“Pizza, huh? That’s not much better.” She paused, giving her brother a curious look. “You know, Mari and I are having Christmas dinner tonight. With the kids. I’d be happy if you joined us.”
Despite Eugene’s best efforts, Nina Coli loved her brother very much. She was one of the only people who would even talk to him, let alone invite him to Christmas dinner. Unfortunately Eugene was not one to appreciate good things.
“Ugh. No thanks. I’m good.”
“Oh, um. I understand. It is a bit sudden. But… we’re also having a party with the others on Christmas day. You could come to that if you wanted…”
“No.”
“Eugene, please. I… I don’t want you to be alone on Christmas.”
“I don’t care.”
“What?”
“I don’t care if I’m alone. Goodbye.”
“Wait Eugene—”
“Goodbye,” Eugene repeated, even more forcefully this time.
“Alright then.” Nina stared forlornly at her brother before turning to the door. “I’ll leave you alone. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas!? Merry Christmas! Why should I be merry? Fuck Christmas, and fuck you! You say that you love me, that you care about me, and yet here you are frolicking around with my enemies and fucking my wife! Why would I ever want to have Christmas with you?”
Nina, teary-eyed, looked at Eugene, before turning to the door. “Goodbye, Eugene. The offer still stands. I… I miss you. And I want you to be happy.”
“Leave.”
And she did. And so Eugene Coli was alone once more. But it was fine. He preferred to be alone. He was better alone. Right?
With his simming mood officially ruined, Eugene decided that he’d go to his in-home bar and maybe play some pool solo. Or maybe solitaire. Darts? Goddammit he was going to heat up his pizza and have a good time. He didn’t need Nina, that traitor. He could have a good time all by himself.
So it turns out that playing pool by yourself is incredibly boring. He didn’t know how to play solitaire. And he was shit at darts. He sat at the bar, alone and bored, Monster energy drink tossed to the wayside. And then he heard it.
The ticking of the clock.
But that wasn’t right! It couldn’t be right! He couldn’t normally hear the clock from the bar. It had to be something else! The bombs, perhaps…. No, he had removed them shortly after the party. But maybe he forgot one? And it didn’t go off? And now that’s what he was hearing!
Eugene scrambled onto his hands and knees, desperately searching the underside of the bar. But there was no bomb in sight.
Well, maybe he forgot where he put it? It could just as easily be hidden in the shelves, or under the pool table, or within the couch cushions.
He raced behind the bar. Bottles fell to the ground, shattering on the hardwood floor as he desperately searched for the source of the mysterious ticking. No bomb.
Next, to the couch. Cushions flew. Every crevice searched and yet. No bomb.
The pool table. Balls shoved onto the floor, every pocket turned inside out, the entire underside scrutinized with the greatest possible care. Nothing. No bomb.
Throughout it all the ticking just grew impossibly louder with no indication of the source. It echoed through Eugene head in a terrifying metronome, each beat filling him with a new wave of dread.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
Another room then! Maybe there was a clock in the storage room. And he only just now noticed the noise.
He threw the door to the storage room open. No clock. No bomb. And the ticking only grew louder.
Maybe… Maybe he should go check on the Clock…
No! No, it was probably something else. He should check the other rooms, he should--
The ticking. He was standing in place and yet… it kept getting louder. Calling to him. Beckoning him.
The Clock was beckoning to him.
Hands shaking, he turned around and left the storage room. He felt like he had been dunked in a tub of ice water, and yet his skin was slick with sweat. Nausea built up in his stomach as he, ever slowly and hesitantly, began his trek to the Clock. He couldn’t help but feel that he was marching to his doom. But he knew that ignoring the ticking of the Clock would do nothing but make it louder. He could not escape his fate, no matter how much he wanted.
Up the stairs he went, stopping every couple steps to brace himself against the railing. Lightheaded, he felt like he was going to topple over any minute. The Clock simply droned on; not even the sound of his hyperventilating could drown it out.
What could it want from him? Why was it doing this? Was it pissed off at him for the whole “murder party” thing? Well, if that was the case, it very easily could have gotten it’s revenge months ago. Why now, of all times?
He was at the top of the stairs far too quick. The Clock was so loud now that every tick seemed to drive into his skull, causing an intensely building headache that throbbed through his entire body. There was only one door now, one flimsy barrier between him and the never ending beat of the house’s heart. Hand on the doorknob, he took a deep breath and creaked the door open.
Immediately, the Clock rung out the midnight hour in a horrific clanging song. Eugene doubled over, covering his ears as his panic (and his headache) reached a crescendo. Through the cacophony, he heard… footsteps? No, it couldn’t be. He was alone in the house. And yet…
Silence. The Clock had finished its toll. Eugene looked up. There was a man standing in front of him.
The man was tall, with brown skin and hair. Despite looking fairly young, he had large bags under his eyes and deep lines in his face. Light facial hair covered his chin and a pair of glasses sat on his hooked nose.
The most striking part about him though was his eyes. They were a normal shade of brown, but there was something about them that Eugene wasn’t quite sure how to describe. It was… as if they were more solid than the rest of him. Striking. Piercing. Staring not just at him, but into him. And filled with utter disgust.
“Who—”, the words died in Eugene’s throat. He licked his lips, and tried once more. “Who are you? Why are you here? This is private property!” He rose on shaky legs. “If you don’t leave right now I’ll… I’ll call the police!”
The strange man did not react to this. If anything he seemed amused.
“I am here because of you, Eugene Coli. I am here to stop you from continuing down this sad path that you’ve set up for yourself. And as for who I am… well it would be better for you to ask me who I was.”
“What the hell does that mean? I’m warning you, I—”
He was cut off by the man stepping forward with a clank, drawing Eugene’s attention to the large chain that wrapped around the man’s leg and lead directly to the grandfather clock.
Eugene still wasn’t quite sure what the fuck was going on but he knew that it would be best to play along. “Well then, who were you?”
“Dr. Roberto Diaz. Years ago, I was the one who haunted this house.” He held out his hand expectantly. Eugene shook it; it felt like holding tv static. Eugene’s hand was numb when he pulled away.
Eugene racked his brain, trying desperately to remember anything about the history of the house. Wasn’t there, like, a doctor-guy who owned the place? Yeah! But if this “Dr. Diaz” is supposed to be that doctor-guy, then there was one problem…
“Aren’t you supposed to be dead?”
“Oh yes. I assure you, I am quite dead”
“Bullshit!” Eugene scoffed. “You’re…. You’re nothing but a Monster Energy induced hallucination!”
“Why do you not believe me? You yourself have studied the occult, correct? Is talking to a dead man really that unbelievable?”
“Well, yes.”
“Listen to me.” Dr. Diaz snarled. “Even if you do not believe, listen to me. I am only here to help you, Coli. You and I are quite similar. Both of us, out of fear of death, shunned life. And both of us trapped ourselves in a prison of our own making. This house is not your salvation. It is nothing but your doom.”
“But—” Eugene stammered.
“Silence! You will be visited tonight by three spirits. They will show you many things, all in hope of freeing you from the cage that you have trapped yourself in. Pay attention and learn from them. Or else, you have no hope of escaping your fate.” At this, the doctor gestured to the chain that ensnared him, forever tying him to the house.
Dr. Diaz continued, “The first will come tonight at one. You best get some rest before then. You have a long night ahead of you, Eugene.” He turned towards the clock and began to walk solemnly away.
“Wait!” Eugene shouted, following after the supposed specter. “What? Spirits? Like, ghosts? That literally explained nothing what the fu—”
Thump.
He had tripped over the chain of Dr. Diaz, pitching forward and hitting the ground hard. He snapped his head up, intending to ask more inane questions, but the man was gone. It was as if he had never been there. Never given his cryptic warnings.
12:01. It was as if no time had passed. And Eugene was all alone.