Chapter Text
“Do we have everything?” Daniel asked, frantically checking the contents of his bag against the list clutched in his fist.
“Yes, we do,” Armand sighed. “I checked it twice.”
“I just want this to be perfect! If this goes well, it could be huge for me!”
“Yes, beloved, I'm well aware. But you needn't worry. I'll be by your side the whole night, and you'll be magnificent.”
Armand pressed a kiss to Daniel's temple and wrenched the list out of his hand. Just because he understood why Daniel was on edge didn't make it any less tiresome to endure. But he would endure anything for his Daniel, even a sleepless night at a supposedly haunted mansion in an attempt to film a ghost hunting video, even if Armand wanted nothing less than to find a ghost.
Of course, being a ghost hunter wasn't Daniel's big career goal, but it could be his foot in the door. Lestat was trying to expand his successful YouTube channel, and Daniel jumped at the chance to film a pilot of a new concept to add to his channel. If it took off, Daniel would have an audience and a platform to make any content he wanted.
Armand hoisted the remaining bags over his shoulder and followed Daniel to the car.
“Okay, so we'll be getting there about two hours before sunset. We can set up and then we should have time to film a tour before we lose the light. Does that sound good?”
“It sounds as good as it did the last three times we went over it.”
“Right, yeah. Alright, I think we're good. Let's head out.”
Armand dropped the bags in the trunk of the car and climbed behind the wheel. He waited until Daniel was buckled into the passenger seat before he carefully backed out of the driveway.
On the hour long drive, Armand was almost able to forget his trepidation for the coming night. He loved road trips with Daniel – the chance to be completely alone together, no other responsibilities or distractions, was a rarity with Daniel. But it couldn't last forever, and before he knew it, he was pulling up to a once-stately manor house that was appropriately dilapidated.
Daniel spilled out of the car excitedly, hurrying to grab the bags from the trunk. He picked up more than he could carry, almost tripping and crushing the bags of expensive equipment, before Armand plucked a few from his arms to carry in himself.
When they got to the door, Daniel punched in a number from his phone onto the keypad, and then they were inside. The foyer was a grand room with chipped black and white tiles and a large wooden staircase curving around to a balcony. The wallpaper, a delicate floral pattern, was peeling away from the walls, and sconces around the room were filled with bouquets of dead flowers.
“They really know how to create ambiance,” Armand drawled.
“Yeah, isn't it great?!” Daniel pulled out his phone to snap a few pictures. “I mean, a rental property in the middle of nowhere isn't a great investment, but the owners knew what they were doing, selling this as a haunted mansion. This is gonna look great on camera.”
As they unpacked the camera equipment, Daniel kept up a steady stream of chatter about his plans for the night.
“...and then I was thinking maybe we could try doing that pendulum thing? Ghost shows nowadays seem to be all about the tech, so maybe doing some lowtech stuff could set us apart – hey, boss, you okay there?”
Armand had startled when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye, nearly dropping the light he was holding.
“Yes, I thought I saw something. It must have been my imagination.”
“Maybe the ambiance is getting to you,” Daniel said with a grin. “This place is so perfect.”
They finished setting up quickly after that, Daniel more eager than ever to start filming.
“Okay, okay, should we start in the foyer?” Daniel asked. “Maybe I start on the stairs and walk down the stairs slowly as I do the introduction. Then you can follow me around the house and I'll talk about all the different rooms?”
“That sounds good.” Armand hoisted the camera Lestat had lent them over his shoulder as Daniel darted up the stairs. He turned to face the camera, then ran his hand nervously through his curls.
“Is my hair alright, Armand? Do I look okay?”
“You look perfect, love,” Armand assured him with a smile. “Are you ready to begin?”
“Yeah, I think we're good.”
Armand counted down from five with his fingers like he'd seen camera operators do on television, then pointed at Daniel to start his introduction.
“We're here at the Hazlett mansion, the site of a grisly 1941 murder suicide, to try to do what so many before us have failed to do: capture actual evidence of ghosts.” Daniel started walking down the stairs towards Armand as he continued, “I'm Daniel Molloy, and this is Voices from Beyond.”
At the bottom of the stairs, Daniel paused to let the first part of the introduction settle before launching into the backstory of the house.
“1941. Newlyweds William and Mary Hazlett were blissfully in love – or so everyone believed. William Hazlett, sole heir to the Hazlett pharmaceutical fortune, was described by his friends and family as a kind, gentle, loving man, so the whole country was shocked when he heartlessly murdered his wife, then took his own life.
“The Hazlett's loyal housemaid, Gretchen, was horrified when she came in on what she thought would be a normal Thursday at work and found the lifeless corpses of her employers. The night before, William had brought home what he told his pregnant wife were pills to help with her morning sickness. However, they were actually an experimental, deadly new drug. After Mary and her unborn child were dead, William wrote a note confessing his crime, then took some of the pills himself. No one knows why he did it, but what we do know is that Mary's angry spirit is still here, seeking revenge.”
Armand heard a rustling behind him. He ignored it, focusing on keeping the camera steady on Daniel.
“In the decades since, there have been countless reports of strange goings on. We'll start in the sitting room, where guests claim to have seen the figure of a woman in white…”
Daniel walked through the house, explaining all of the various sightings and incidents that he had so painstakingly researched. Throughout it all, Armand steadfastly ignored the noises throughout the house that were steadily growing more insistent. Daniel didn't give any indication of hearing the noises, so it couldn't be anything good.
Finally, Daniel finished his tour in the back upstairs bedroom.
“Alright, that's all we needed to do in the light. Should we head back to the sitting room to wait till sundown?”
Armand agreed, and the two of them turned to walk back into the hallway. When Armand turned the corner, he jumped and let out a startled yelp.
Standing in the middle of the hallway was a young, pretty blonde woman in a flowing white silk robe.
“Amadeo, no, Lydia is going to be so mad!”
The young boy smiled at his friend as he pushed the Barbie into the Easy Bake Oven.
“It's alright, Riccardo. I just want to see what happens.”
“But it's Lydia's favorite!” Riccardo wailed.
When Amadeo pulled the Barbie from the little oven, its body was melty and deformed. Amadeo stared at it wide-eyed and poked at the cooling distorted plastic.
When he heard footsteps heavy on the stairs, he hurriedly shoved the ruined doll under his mattress.
“Amadeo, come now!” a lofty voice called. “We'll be late if we don't leave soon!”
A tall figure robed in red appeared in the door.
“Can Riccardo come with us?” Amadeo pleaded, and the man in the doorway, Marius, sighed.
“Now Amadeo, you are much too old to have an imaginary friend.”
Amadeo’s brown eyes were big and wet as he whined, “Riccardo is real!”
“Where is he now, then, dove?” Marius asked patiently.
“He's right–” Amadeo looked around and realized that his friend was nowhere to be seen. “He was right here! You scared him off!”
“Yes, of course,” Marius allowed indulgently. “Now, are you ready to leave?”
“I hate it here!” the dark-skinned boy from before, now almost a teenager, cried. “The other boys are mean to me! I don't know why Marius let them take me!”
Riccardo was identical to how he looked when Amadeo was a child, still a child himself. He patted the other boy's shoulder reassuringly and said, “It's not so bad, Amadeo. I'm still here for you.”
The boy sniffled around a small sad smile.
“Of course Armand is talking to himself again. He's so crazy,” the two heard sneered from behind them. They whipped around to see an older boy surrounded by his posse of glaring pimpled friends.
“I'm not crazy!” he protested. The gathered crowd tittered meanly.
“No? So who are you talking to, then?”
He knew they couldn't see Riccardo. He was trapped between a rock and a hard place, no good explanation, so he just set his jaw angrily and glared back at the group.
“Now you don't wanna talk, huh? I'll give you something to say.”
Armand curled in on himself as the older boys advanced in on him.
“Please, talk to me, Amadeo! Armand, I miss you!” Riccardo, ever a child, had tears in his eyes as he pleaded with Armand, now fully a man.
Armand walked past him, not even acknowledging he was there.
Back in the hallway of the Hazlett mansion, the woman stared up at Armand with sad, hopeful eyes.
“I need your help.”
ooooo
“Hey, hey boss! Are you okay?”
Daniel ran up to Armand's side, looking between him and the empty space in the hallway he was staring at. Armand shook his head and looked back to Daniel.
“Yes. Yes, of course. Like you said, the ambiance is getting to me. I thought I saw something.”
Daniel chuckled nervously. “I guess that's a good thing, huh? Maybe there is a ghost and we'll be able to get some real evidence.”
Armand scoffed, even as he snuck furtive glances at that specific spot in the hallway.
“Don't be ridiculous, Daniel. Ghosts aren't real,” Armand said as he began walking downstairs, head now faced decisively forward.
“We'd better hope you're wrong. This is gonna be a really boring video if we don't manage to get anything.”
“Yes, well. I'm sure you'll get something, because your so-called ghost hunting tools all have natural explanations.”
“I'd take that. As long as we get some good content.”
When they got to the living room, Armand folded himself into the overstuffed armchair and pulled out his phone. Daniel frowned. It wasn't like Armand to stick his head in his phone, and it definitely wasn't like him to ignore Daniel to do it.
“Maybe we should test out some of the equipment?” Daniel suggested.
Armand glanced up at Daniel, then back down at his phone. “I don't think that's wise. We should save it for the camera.”
Daniel's stomach twisted at his boyfriend's curt dismissal. Had Daniel done something to make him mad? He couldn't think of anything, but he knew he could be a jerk without realizing it.
“Oh, yeah. Good point.”
They sat quietly for a few minutes, Armand on his phone and Daniel twiddling his thumbs nervously.
“Have you ever seen a ghost?”
Armand startled at Daniel's question and yelped, “No!” He immediately colored in embarrassment at his overreaction and corrected, “I mean, I don't believe in ghosts, Daniel.”
“I think I saw a ghost once,” Daniel said quietly.
Armand's eyes widened. “You did?”
“Yeah. When I OD'd once. I was alone in my apartment and I know the door was closed, but the neighbor said she came in to check on me because my door was open. When I came to, I swear I saw my Grandma Betty standing behind the paramedics.”
“Really?”
Daniel nodded his head. “I should have died. I don't have any other explanation for it.”
“I'm glad your grandma was there for you,” Armand told him softly. “I can't imagine a world without you in it.”
“That's why I think we might be able to get some evidence here. If this show turns out any good, it could be my big break.”
Armand grimaced. “I'll do what I can to make sure this is successful, love.”
Daniel had no idea why Armand was acting so weird all of the sudden, but he'd take it.
When it got dark, it was time for the ghost hunt to begin. The most active room was the master bedroom, where the bodies were found. They had decided to work their way up to it, getting a feel for the equipment in the less active rooms, so they started in the kitchen.
Armand was still acting all jumpy and out of sorts, but he was trying to hide it, smiling tightly at Daniel and speaking in a brittle upbeat tone. The anxiety of not knowing what was wrong met with the edge of annoyance that Armand was being difficult when this was Daniel's big chance – and the guilt at being annoyed at his boyfriend when he was obviously having a hard time and trying to hide it for Daniel's sake – creating a swirling pit of acid in his stomach. It was not the ideal performance conditions.
“We're starting with the spirit box,” Daniel explained to the camera. “The spirit box scans through radio stations. It's said that spirits can control the frequencies in order to communicate.”
He turned on the machine and it started making a jarring static noise interspersed with pieces of words. Armand winced at the noise from behind the camera.
“If there are any ghosts here who wish to communicate, I'm Daniel, and my cameraman is Armand. If you want to speak with us, can you say one of our names?”
He paused, listening to the whirring static of the spirit box.
“Oh, that kind of sounded like Danny! Hello, ghost! What's your name?” He listened, then, “I think I heard butter? Who am I speaking to? I didn't understand.” Another pause. “Okay, that was definitely Jackson. Is your name Jackson? I didn't see any Jackson in the history of this house. Do you live here?”
As the session went on, Daniel could see Armand relaxing. They weren't getting very logical answers, but there were enough understandable words and phrases to be exciting to an audience. They had some usable footage for sure, which was easing a knot of worry inside him. Maybe Armand had just been nervous about the night ahead as well, and that's why he was acting so weird.
“I think we have as much as we're going to get in the kitchen. I think the logical next place is the dining room, yeah?”
He led Armand to the grand dining room and sat down in the center of the large dining table.
“What do you think we should use in here?”
Armand sighed and rested the camera on his shoulder. “This is your project, Daniel. I don't know, the divining rods?”
“How do those work again? Which way is yes?”
“You ask the spirits which way is yes and see what the rods do.”
“The ghosts get to decide? That's empowering.”
Armand huffed a laugh as Daniel dug the rods out of the bag.
“Am I good to go?” Armand nodded, so Daniel launched in. “I have here divining rods. It's believed that spirits can manipulate the rods in order to communicate, by crossing and uncrossing the rods. I'm going to ask the spirit to establish a yes and no for this session.”
Daniel held the rods so the camera had a good shot of them crossing and uncrossing.
“Whoever I'm communicating with, can you show me what a yes looks like?”
As the rods crossed, he noticed Armand visibly tensing up.
“Crossed rods are a yes. Can you show me no?”
The rods uncrossed.
“Crossed is yes, uncrossed is no. Thank you. Okay, first question. Is the spirit I'm talking to the ghost of Mary Hazlett?”
The rods slowly drifted inwards until they crossed over each other.
“That's a yes. Hello, Mary. Thank you for talking to us. I'm going to ask a big question next. Mary, were you murdered?”
The rods drifted apart from one another.
“No? Folks, Mary seems to be saying she wasn't murdered. Let me just confirm that again. Mary, were you murdered?”
The rods flew apart until they were almost pointing back at Daniel.
“That's a pretty emphatic no. You heard it here first, Mary Hazlett was not murdered. But that begs the question, what did happen to you, Mary? Did you commit suicide?”
The rods drifted back towards the middle, and Daniel waited to see if they were going to cross, but once they reached parallel, they stopped.
“Mary did not commit suicide. So if it wasn't murder and it wasn't suicide, what happened?”
The rods began to swing back and forth slowly. Daniel chuckled.
“It looks like Mary is annoyed at me. Talk to my cameraman, Mary, he can relate. Let's see if we can figure out how to figure out how Mary died, using only yes or no questions.”
“Was it an accident?”
As the rods drifted, Daniel explained to the camera, “That was the voice of my cameraman, Armand. Good question Armand, it looks like Mary answered yes to that. But that doesn't make sense, Mary. Your husband confessed to killing you.”
The rods flew apart again.
“Well, Mary is sticking to her story. She's pretty insistent that she was not murdered, she died in an accident.”
The rods crossed again.
“After that juicy bombshell, let's move on to some less explosive questions. Okay, Mary – oh, wait, hold on.”
Before Daniel could ask any other questions, the rods uncrossed suddenly.
“I guess Mary doesn't want me to ask any other questions. Is that right Mary, you don't want me to ask more questions?’
The rods slowly drifted back over each other again.
“Alright, I guess we're done with the divining rods, and I think it's time to move to another room.”
As Daniel put the rods back in his bag, a vase flew off of a side table, shattering.
“Fuck, Armand, did you see that? Tell me you got that on camera!”
Armand wheeled around to the side table.
“No, I was focused on filming you,” Armand told him shakily.
“Fuck. Okay, it's okay. Not your fault, Armand, we can't have you covering the whole room at once, no reason you would have been filming over there. Fuck, that was crazy.”
Daniel quickly picked up the divining rods again and asked, “Was that you, Mary?”
Cross.
“Was there more you wanted to say?”
The rods drifted further inwards.
“Okay, let's switch to something else. I have an app on my phone that you can use to communicate with me.”
“Um, Daniel, could we take a break?”
“What, now?” Annoyance sparked in Daniel. “We're getting really good stuff right now! Can it wait?”
Armand fidgeted with the camera before stilling himself. “I suppose it can wait. Apologies.”
“It's fine,” Daniel muttered. “Alright, I have the app up. Okay, Mary, what were you trying to tell us?”
They waited.
Here, said a robotic feminine voice.
“Yeah, you're here, Mary, we're here. What did you want to tell us?”
Car. Wear.
“Not sure what you're trying to say here. Can you give me a little more, Mary?”
Scream.
“Oh man! Yeah, what about screaming?”
They waited another few minutes until the phone said another word.
Sheet.
Daniel deflated. “Okay, yeah, we aren't getting anything. Go ahead and take a break, Armand.”
As soon as he was given permission, Armand set the camera carefully on the table and ran out of the room.
“Hey, wait, are you okay, Armand?!” Daniel called after him. Instead of an answer, he heard the front door slam.
“What the fuck?”
Daniel didn't know if he should go after Armand or give him his space. He checked the camera was off – it wouldn't do to run down the battery while they weren't using it – then decided he should follow Armand and make sure he was okay.
Outside, he found Armand crouched on the far side of their car in the circular driveway, head buried in his knees. Daniel sat down next to him and gingerly asked, “You doing okay?”
Armand huffed, voice nasally where it was muffled by limbs. Fuck, was he crying?
“Yes, I'm fine.”
Daniel scoffed. “I find that hard to believe, boss.” He took Armand in for a moment, considering, then, “I know what this is! You're scared of ghosts, aren't you!”
His head popped up, eyes, thankfully dry, flashing. “Ghosts aren't real,” he snapped.
“Well, could you tell me what is going on?”
“I don't see how it's any of your business, frankly.”
“What the fuck, not my business?” Daniel sputtered, chest clenching in fear. Armand was icing him out again. He knew from experience, he had to play this carefully. One wrong word would splinter the conversation into an unsalvageable mess. “It is my business because not only are you my boyfriend and I love you, but you're my cameraman, and this is really important to me.”
Armand narrowed his dark eyes at Armand and unfolded himself, rising gracefully.
Fuck. That was definitely the wrong thing to say.
“Fine, then. As your cameraman, I am perfectly fine to do my job. Come now, let's go back inside.”
Without waiting for a response, he stalked back inside, leaving Daniel sitting on the hard concrete, cursing his big dumb mouth.