Chapter Text
Levi slid under the covers, scooting over to where Hange lay with her back to him. Her breathing was deliberately measured and slow in a way that told him she wasn’t really asleep and in no mood to have a conversation, much less breakfast. He still tried.
Laying a tentative hand on her waist he whispered, “Hey, are you coming downstairs? Udo and I made waffles.” No response. He sighed, voice softening, “You haven’t eaten anything for twenty-four hours, I’ll bring you a plate here.”
She mumbled something indistinct as he walked out. Udo was waiting quietly downstairs but asked no questions when he saw his father return alone.
It had been like this for nearly a week now.
Ever since they’d returned from their last case, Hange had locked herself in their room and refused to talk, eat, or come out of there. Udo was worried but he didn’t make a fuss about it, knowing his parents already had a lot to deal with. For an energetic seven year old, he was pretty cooperative.
Levi, on the other hand, had tried everything in his power to make his wife come out of that room, eat well and talk to him about what happened. About what she saw. But every attempt failed. Eventually he decided he didn’t want to know what she’d seen in that dingy room where Father Nick had performed the exorcism on Maurice Theriault, the subject of their last case, and Hange had let out a scream so terrifying he still shivered to think about it. Perhaps it was best, for both of them, to leave that day behind.
Easier said than done, he realised when returning to their room and looking at Hange once more. She had turned over so she faced him now, tired eyes open and ringed with dark circles. Despite staying in bed most of the time, she hadn’t been sleeping well.
Levi set the tray beside her and sat down, waiting. She made no move to touch her plate, eyes distant. Her hair was a mess, uncombed and sticking up. He gently brushed his fingers through them, “Four-eyes, you need to eat.”
Hange’s gaze shifted to him, moving over his face like she was trying to memorise it.
“Let’s stop,” she said so softly he nearly missed it. “Let’s stop taking on new cases.”
“Hange, where’s this coming from?”
“We can still do the lectures, a-and the interviews,” she went on. “But no more meddling with spirits and demons. Please Levi.”
“But this is our job.”
She shook her head and murmured, “It doesn't have to be dangerous. We can avoid the horrific part.” Her eyes were wide, pleading and exhausted. Saying no would only make things worse. And besides, if Hange had seen something that gave her such a big scare Levi had every reason to be cautious.
“Fine,” he gave in. “Let's take a break. We won't quit, but no new cases for a good long while. How's that?”
Relief visibly washed over her and she whispered, “Yes. Thanks for understanding, Levi.”
“Anytime, four-eyes,” he leaned down and kissed her temple.
The first sign was the death of their dog. Or maybe it was the clocks, each and every one stopping at 3:07 a.m. around the house, or the bad smell in Mikasa and Sasha’s shared bedroom, or the scratching behind the walls in Pieck’s room. Perhaps it was the old music box Gabi had found, claiming it belonged to some ‘Rory.’
It was easy to slide these things aside, blaming it on rats or the plumbing or just coincidence. But maybe if they hadn’t ignored these little things, the family would’ve escaped the hell which was coming for them.
“Mikasa’s sleepwalking again,” Sasha announced during breakfast on their fifth day in the new house. “She was banging her head on the closet door repeatedly. Woke me up.”
Mikasa threw a glare at her and Sasha only shrugged, gobbling down more of her toast.
Her parents flooded her with concerned questions, was she sleeping well? “Yes.” Was something stressing her out? “No.” Were the new surroundings hard to get used to? “I told you I’m fine.”
“Both of you, relax,” said Pieck. “I’m sure it’ll wear off in a few days.”
Gabi, who was swinging her legs on her chair, piped up casually, “Rory hides in the closet when he’s scared.”
“Your imaginary friend?”
Being the six year old Gabi was, such things weren’t surprising at all to hear from her.
“He’s real,” the girl insisted, to which everyone just laughed. “I swear he’s—”
B E H I N D Y O U
The second time Hange saw the demon, it was in Levi's painting.
She woke up at dawn one day to find the space beside her empty on the bed. Trudging sleepily down the stairs she found her husband hunching over a canvas, working with such a focus she didn't have a heart to disturb him.
So she took a seat and observed him quietly, watching the first rays of the sun gliding over his cheek, filtering through strands of his hair and layering them with a coppery tint.
It was a perfect morning.
Until he noticed her and his eyes filled with warmth, calling her over to check his work.
Levi had painted a grotesque white face that was hardly anything human. The thing was draped in black fabric and a cross hung around its neck, looking horribly out of place.
“Saw it in my dream,” he said. “Woke up and I knew I had to get it down on canvas.”
Hange didn't reply, not knowing if she should tell him this was one of the things she saw during Maurice’s exorcism.
In the end she said nothing.
It was an ordinary afternoon when she encountered it the third time.
Sunlight streamed in through the windows and the television blared in the background while Hange sat reading and Udo tinkered with something at the table.
The shadow could’ve been a passing bird outside the window or the clouds rolling in. Whatever it was, it lasted for a second. A second that washed over Hange like a bucket of ice-cold water, leaving her bones shivering. When her head snapped up, the living room was empty and her son was gone.
“Udo?” She felt the panic after hearing it humming through her voice.
Something was wrong.
She found him in the hallway outside but the sight did little to soothe her nerves. He was standing rigidly, face drained of colour and staring at something in the distance. Shivering.
“What’s wrong, dear,” Hange approached him slowly, smoothing a palm over his shoulder.
“Mom,” Udo whispered, raising an arm and pointing at something. “Who’s that?”
Following the direction of his finger, her eyes landed at the end of the hallway. Hange’s grip on his shoulder tightened.
“Get inside,” she whispered quickly, pushing her son back towards the living room. The door clacked shut behind her and she was left alone, facing the figure looming ten feet away from her.
The same nun from Levi’s painting stood there in flesh. The coarse, chalky face and harsh, jutting nose visible in those dimming lights. Its beady eyes were fixed on her without blinking. It was a hulking thing, draped in black from head to toe.
Something twisted and wrong. Inhuman.
Without a sound, it turned and moved fluidly, further inside her house. Hange followed.
When she turned the corner, the hallway was vacant and the door of the study ajar in silent invitation. Inside, she was greeted with the same emptiness. Only a desk strewn with research papers, tapes and their recorder. Levi’s canvases lay before the bookshelf in the shadowy corner. The blinds were half drawn, letting slanting streaks of sunlight paint the floorboards at intervals and illuminate the place in dim afternoon light.
When she turned, the chalky white face glared through the gloomier end of the room, making her heart lurch.
She blinked.
No, it was the recent painting Levi made, showing the same morbid form of this thing which draped itself in a skin that mocked faith.
Stepping carefully, she leaned forward and turned on the lamp standing beside the white face.
Light spilled forth, proving her correct.
Suddenly the silence was broken by the loud sound of the choir. Hange flinched and swiveled around, pinning the source as the recorder on the desk which had apparently turned on its own. She approached it cautiously, pressed a button and the sound ceased.
The hair on the back of her neck prickled and for a second there was cold, rancid breath rolling across her nape. A click and the lamp behind her went out. Hange glanced over her shoulder and the painting stared back ominously from the dark corner of the room.
Her steps became nearly sluggish as she walked towards the lamp once more, legs beginning to shake, eyes fixed on the canvas.
At first she could see the rough brush strokes, white and grey, mapping out the crumbling, mouldy flesh, tiny eyes.
One step closer, her hand reached out for the chord.
The paint was looking more like bumpy, rotten skin. The eyes were beadier, almost real. There was an inhale.
Hange pulled the cord, expecting the full length of the demon standing there.
But it had reduced back to paint and colour.
Tearing herself away from the painting, she rushed towards the door. Before she could get out, it slammed shut in her face, the curtains and the windows followed suit and she was trapped in the study.
The canvases near the bookshelves began to rattle. And then a shadow arose from behind them—a literal shadow, moving along the wall with no body to cast it, existing on its own. It resembled the robed shape of a nun, taking leisurely steps through the length of the wallpaper, and seeping into the crevice between the wall and Levi's painting. From where the canvas ended the shadow began, trailing down to the floor in a complete image of the robed figure.
Slowly, bluish, corpse-like fingers with black nails peeked out from either side of the canvas and curled around the frames.
Hange stood rooted to the spot, unable to move a muscle.
A loud shriek pierced through her eardrums and the painting shot forward; the shadow dislodged from the wall and morphed into black fabric as the whole thing pelted towards her at breakneck speed. Hange raised her arms in a futile attempt to shield herself just as they collided.
The sensation of hard concrete hitting her back forced her eyes open, mouth gasping like she emerged from underwater. She was in an unfamiliar cellar, surrounded by junk and broken furniture. In the corner stood that thing dressed as a nun, regarding her silently.
Rising to her feet unsteadily, Hange felt anger now. It had been haunting her thoughts for weeks, then invaded her home and brought her to this rundown, godforsaken place. She’d had enough.
In a burst of sudden courage, she shouted, “Who are you?! What do you want?!”
It roared in response, bloody gums protruding, mouth open in a circle and lined with rows upon rows of jagged teeth. The roar shook the whole room, rattled through her soul and left goosebumps on her skin. A single blue-black hand pointed to the side.
Hange turned just as the furniture flew away from that corner, clearing away a space where Levi stood. Her heart ceased.
No.
She’d seen this before, she knew what was coming and it had to be stopped. She took a step forward, hand reaching for him. Their eyes met.
“I’m sorry, Hange,” he said.
A spire impaled through his chest, and his body fell limp instantly. She didn’t realise she was screaming until her throat burned raw.
“NOOO!”
“Mom! Are you okay?!”
Small hands were shaking her, gripping her tightly. Her eyes flew open to the sight of Udo’s concerned face taking up the entire field of her vision. She blinked, looking around. They were in the living room, sitting just as they’d been before she left. Only she was trembling now, the image of Levi’s death branded in her mind.
Where was he?
“Mom?”
Her Bible was still lying in her lap, just as it had been before all this happened. Only now the pages were scribbled over with a pen so harshly the material had ripped in places. But she couldn’t focus on this right now.
“L-Levi—where’s Levi?” she gasped.
“Dad’s outside,” Udo answered, still worried. “He’s mending the fences, remember?”
Hange had to make sure. She had to look at his face for herself. She sprinted into the backyard and sure enough he was there, hunched over the fences, not in a dingy cellar with lifeless eyes.
She crashed into him so hard they both took a tumble into the grass.
“Hey, what the fuck four-eyes!” he swore from underneath her and it was that—his annoyed voice and that ridiculous nickname that broke her. She sniffled against his neck and Levi stiffened, his hand gently coming up to rub her back.
“Hange?”
“I’m okay,” she managed. “Just checking if you’re…”
He must’ve filled in the gaps because his grip tightened on her, “Hey, I”m fine. I’m not going anywhere. We’re all okay.”
She wanted to retort, you don’t know that. But it was easier to close her eyes and nod instead.
“Sasha? Sasha, wake up.”
Mikasa's voice quaked and snapped off at the end. She didn't dare slip out of the bed and prod her sister who lay five feet away, fast asleep.
It was watching. Staring straight at her.
“Sasha…” she pleaded weakly as it continued to look. Not glaring, just looking, unblinking round eyes fixed on her. It made her skin crawl and throat close up in fear as a sob hacked out.
“Mmurrghh… shut up lemme sleep,” her sister rolled over, blissfully oblivious.
“There’s someone behind the door,” Mikasa whispered.
“Wha…?”
“S-someone's standing there.”
Sasha was awake now, blinking at Mikasa's shivering body curled up under the covers, fearful wide eyes fixed at the entrance of their room.
“There's nothing there,” she squinted at the spot that had her so terrified, but the assurance did nothing. The brunette got out of bed and headed for the half open door and Mikasa choked on a scream.
“Don’t—come back! It’s—”
“See? Empty,” stepping behind the door, she waved a hand into the darkness that had collected there. “You had a nightmare Mika, that's all.”
“Oh my god… It's standing right behind you,” she whispered.
“Stop creeping me out! There’s nothing here.”
But Mikasa wasn’t listening, “Don’t you see it? It’s leaning over your shoulder.”
All at once the door slammed shut and the blinds shot down, drenching the room in complete darkness. Neither of them made a sound, momentarily stricken mute by fear and shock, breathing loud.
A cold hand closed around Mikasa’s arm.
“Sasha, i-is that you?”
“What? I haven’t moved from my place,” her whisper sounded from a distance, just as scared.
She wasn’t the one standing near her. That clammy skin against her arm, the sharp exhales in her ear were—
Mikasa screamed.
“Where’s Ma?” Sasha asked when she saw Pieck flipping pancakes in the kitchen early morning. For once, the brunette lacked her usual energy as she slumped down in her chair and didn’t even light up at the sight of food. Everyone in the house seemed to be dragged down by an oppressive weight.
“Out somewhere,” Pieck answered. “Trying to find help for… this,” she gestured around them vaguely. The house and whatever strange things had been happening here.
Mikasa was silent. She hadn’t talked much after the incident in their room. Their parents had forced the door open, snapped on the light and found the girl curled up in her bed, tangled in the sheets, eyes rolling back and howling “She’ll kill us she’ll kill us she’ll kill us!”
Pieck wasn’t sleeping well either but she wouldn’t speak of it. Every time they asked, she’d say the rats won’t stop scratching within the walls.
She passed a plate to Sasha and that’s when she noticed another thing. A large ugly bruise on her arm, and one more peeking from beneath her sleeve. “How did this happen?”
“Some iron deficiency thing,” Pieck muttered. “I had it checked yesterday, don’t worry.” And she turned back to the stove humming the tune from Gabi’s music box under her breath.
By the time they reached home Hange was so tense Levi had to pry open her fingers from where they’d twisted into the fabric of her dress and lead her out of the car.
“You said we wouldn’t take any more cases,” she whispered but her own voice wavered with hesitation, the woman’s words ringing in her ears.
“Please, you have to help. I have four daughters who are scared to death. I’m so afraid this thing wants to hurt us—you have a son, won’t you do anything you could to protect him?”
She had approached them when they were packing up after another lecture, and neither of them had been able to say no to those desperate, pleading eyes.
“We won’t get involved,” Levi reassured her. “We just go there, observe and report back. There’s always been cases we’ve turned down, but there’s never been a family we refused to help.”
Ninety percent of the ‘hauntings’ reported either had a logical explanation or were made up by the people to gain attention. That’s why Levi and Hange were directed to collect evidence before involving the church and proceeding with anything else.
They both came to a stop on the porch and Hange leaned against one of the chairs, trying to push down the bubbling anxiety.
“Last Sunday, I had a vision,” she began in a shaky voice, referring to the day she saw that nun-like demon in their study. “The same one I had during Maurice’s exorcism. I… I had a premonition of your death.”
“Wait, that’s why you locked yourself away for a week. You saw my death?” He closed the distance between them. Her eyes glossed over with unshed tears as she let her hands rest on his shoulders, fiddling with the collar of his shirt, feeling his warmth. A rattling, broken exhale made its way out of her mouth as she whispered, “I can’t lose you, Levi.”
“We’ll be fine.”
“You’ve seen it too,” she pressed on. “The demon in your painting is real. We’ve both seen the same inhuman spirit. It’s a warning; if we keep doing this you are going to die.”
At this he shook his head subtly and cupped her face, stroking her cheeks, “Your visions are a gift, four-eyes. If you’re seeing my death, it’s for a reason. Maybe you’re meant to prevent it.”
When she said nothing, he pulled at her ponytail gently, “Come on. We don’t run from fights.”
At this Hange finally let out something between a chuckle and a sob, pulling him in an embrace.
“Okay,” she breathed. “Okay. But if we go, if we do this, promise me we’re just going to observe. If anything gets dangerous we’re gonna tell the church and get out.”
“I promise.”
The farmhouse was in Harrisville, Rhode island. A huge dusty old thing surrounded by ancient trees.
The family consisted of the parents and four girls—Pieck, the oldest and sixteen; the fraternal twins Sasha and Mikasa; and the youngest one, Gabi. They all had mattresses piled up in the living room as they felt safer sleeping in one place and warmer too.
The moment Hange saw the girls she was sure this family wasn’t making anything up. A presence clung to them, dark and sinister over their backs. She couldn’t be sure which one of them had it as they were all huddled together, but it was a clear sign.
Mr and Mrs Perron walked them around the house, pointing out to every odd phenomena that had been haunting them since the past few weeks.
It started with the clocks, as they all stopped at 3:07 a.m. every night. Then their dog died and they started finding dead birds along the side of the house every morning.
“And there's this smell like rotten meat. It moves around the house,” said Mr Perron.
Levi and Hange exchanged a look.
“What?”
“Well, rancid smells can be indicators of some sort of demonic presence,” Levi explained, at which the couple went very pale.
“Did you look into the history of this house before moving in?” Hange asked.
They shook their heads, “We bought it in a bank auction so we don't know who lived here before.”
The doorknobs of most doors were tied together, otherwise they’d keep banging all night. The family pictures had been taken down from the walls as something kept knocking them over and smashing the frames to pieces. The house was always cold, even though the furnace worked completely fine.
They led them into the twins’ room and pointed at the closet, “Mikasa sleepwalks a lot these days, always smacking her head into that thing. Two nights ago she did it again and woke up Sasha who saw something crouching on top of the closet. It attacked her. Whatever my daughter saw, it wasn’t alive.”
“That’s the same night I got locked in the cellar,” Mrs Perron added. “The girls play this game, Hide and Clap, and I heard clapping in the middle of the night. Though they were messin’ about past bedtime and went down to check. It led me to the cellar and the place was empty when the door closed on me and my candle died. And then…” the woman shivered, wrapping her arms tightly around herself and continuing in a low, haunted voice. “I heard clapping beside my ear. And giggling from voices that weren’t my children, I swear. That was the last straw, we can’t take it anymore.”
“Show us the cellar.”
They all stepped down in the dim space and instantly Hange froze as the surroundings jarred her with a sense of familiarity. It was the same cellar she’d seen in her vision, covered in dust and cobwebs, stuffed with broken furniture and junk.
So this is the house Levi's gonna die in?
No, she told herself. He won't die. She would make sure of it.
Closing her eyes, Hange let the place wash over her, pulling her away from reality and under the current of past. The voices of the others muffled out and drowned away and there was silence.
And then, slowly, gradually, a noise built up. Screams. Distant at first but increasing in volume swiftly. So many voices, cracking and howling in agony and pain so sharp she could feel it in her chest.
Through it all swelled words, sometimes whispers, sometimes roars, catching onto her ears and slipping away.
Look what she made me do!
Hange came back to reality with a jolt and a gasping breath. Levi was right beside her, watching intently.
“You got anything?”
“Yeah,” she swallowed. “Oh god… something horrible happened in this house.”
Levi was talking to Mikasa, inquiring about her sleepwalking and other incidents, while Hange walked around the house by herself.
An ominous air hung about the whole place, thick, heavy and festering, weighing down on her senses and leaving a bitter aftertaste in her mouth.
Coming to a stop beside the ajar bathroom door, she thought to rinse her mouth in hopes of washing it away.
“Don't go in, someone's there.”
Hange looked down to see little Gabi standing beside her, clutching an old-looking music box shaped like a circus tent. She was peeking into the bathroom rather nonchalantly.
Hange pushed the door open fully to find it empty.
“No one's inside.”
But Gabi shook her head and pointed, “There.”
Her chubby little finger aimed at the upper right corner of the room, where the tiled wall met the roof.
It was completely bare but Hange felt a prickling sensation all over when her eyes landed on that spot.
“I see,” she said calmly and closed the door, stepping away. The slight tremble in her fingers gave away the collected facade.
“Ma doesn't believe me when I tell her something like that,” Gabi followed her around hopping from one foot to another.
“Do you see these things often?” Hange asked, stepping outside and breathing in the relatively fresher air.
Gabi shook her head.
“Aren't they scary?”
Another shake. “They look sad. Rory's always sad too but he wouldn't tell me why. I think something bad happened to him.”
“Who's Rory?”
She held out the music box, “When you wind it up, he shows up behind you in the mirror.”
“Can I see?”
Opening the box, Hange saw a round swirling mirror behind the lid and an old, ragged clown head that peeked in and out of the box alongside the tune as she let it run.
She waited for the music to die down, keeping her eyes trained on the house reflected behind her.
When the notes finally came to a halt and the mirror stopped revolving, she saw him.
The swish of black cloth, a hint of pale skin, gazing at her through the first floor window.
Hange turned back but the window was empty. Rory was only visible in the mirror and Gabi was right, he did look sad.
She handed the box back to the girl who rushed inside after hearing her mother call.
There was a pond in the distance and it looked like an inviting place to walk around and process all she'd seen and felt. Hange crossed from underneath the sprawling branches of the ancient oak that stood there and gazed into the dark waters.
L O O K U P
This house was full of spirits, and perhaps something even bigger tying them all together in here. What happened in this place that left it in such a horrific state?
She couldn't deny the fact that observing this place had taken a toll on her. The sickening heaviness still clung like a bad fever, and it left her feeling awful and… scared.
From a distance, the sound of a door opening reached her. Levi called out and his footsteps came closer.
“Four-eyes I think you might wanna talk to Mikasa as well, she's been telling me—”
All of a sudden his words got drowned out by the unmistakable sound of ropes from right over her head.
Thick, looping, ropes stretching and rubbing against wood as if a weight hung from them, swinging gently.
She flinched.
Levi was right behind her now. “Hange?”
She could still hear it.
Very slowly, she turned his way. Levi was frowning, worry creasing his brow. Her eyes travelled up and hovering just a few inches above his head were a pair of rotting feet, mottled with the blue and purple hues of a bloodless skin.
Hange wasn't sure what expression her face wore but it made Levi step towards her like he was about to catch her if she fell.
By the time her gaze had roved the whole length of the white-clad body hanging from the tree and met its wide open eyes staring straight into hers, Levi had already grabbed her by the arms.
A second later she realised he was steadying her.
He looked up as well, trying to see what had distressed his wife so much but the only thing his eyes landed on was the thick oak branch over their heads.
“What are you seeing?” He asked quietly.
But she just shook her head, whispering, “Let's go back inside. I don't want to stand here a second longer.”