Work Text:
“Fuck, it’s cold.” Hans leant against the old Nissan Pulsar. Frost formed in front of him with every word and every breath. They had spontaneously picked tonight, and it just so happened to be the coldest night of the month so far.
“I’ve got an old hoodie back here, do you want it?” Henry popped his head around from the boot of the car and held up a thick black jumper. Hans nodded just as Henry threw it in his direction, and just barely managed to lean off the side of the car to catch it before it touched the dewy dirt. Thankfully he did, because there was no way in hell he’d wear a dirt-coated hoodie.
Henry continued to rummage through the boot before he slammed the door and swung a duffel bag over his shoulder. He fumbled with the keys, locked the car and made his way next to his blonde-haired crybaby.
“Where’s Pavel?” Henry quickly glanced in the already locked car, and exhaled thankfully when he found Pavel was, indeed, not locked in there.
“And why would I know?” Hans folded his arms once more and glared at Henry.
“Maybe because I literally told you I was going to take a piss?” Pavel appeared behind Henry. His cross necklace glistened in the moonlight.
“Shit! Don’t sneak up on me like that!” Henry’s blue eyes were wide, but they soon settled as he found himself unable to suppress a chuckle. He shook his head.
“You know what, guys, I think we should just go home.” Hans huddled the three of them into a circle, “I have a bad feeling, okay? And anyways, it’s way too late for me. I mean, uncle Hanush expects me in a meeting at like 7am, I won’t get enough sleep—Pavel, what’s the time?”
Pavel rolled his eyes and took his phone out of his jeans pocket. He tapped the shattered screen.
“You’ll be fine, Hans. We’ll be out of here by 4am at the latest. You can stay up for just one night.”
Hans turned pale.
“4? 4am? Jesus fucking Christ! What’s the time now!?” Hans grabbed Pavel’s phone. 1am. He wondered where the time had gone, but remembered that Henry had shaken him awake an hour or so earlier and told him to get ready for a spontaneous ghost hunt. It was ridiculous, Hans thought. Henry and Pavel had a new nightly routine of putting on YouTube ghost tour videos before bed; they were, obviously, all staged. Henry tried desperately to convince Hans that they weren’t, and one time had even collected an abundance of evidence to try to persuade him. It never worked. Instead, Hans would just leave them to binge on the couch while he enjoyed being able to sprawl out and enjoy an empty bed.
“Awh, Hans. Please, do this for me?” Henry tugged faintly on Hans’ hoodie. Hans rolled his eyes and scoffed before pressing his forehead to Henry’s.
“How could I refuse you anything?” Hans let a small smile slip as he straightened his back and looked at the ghastly building in front of them. It was a colossal monastery. Overgrown, the walls stained, some of the windows broken, too. The architecture was beautiful; Hans wondered when it was built.
Henry and Pavel had scootched on either side of Hans, and the three of them stared in awe at the godly monastery.
“I read online that in the 15th century, this place was believed to be cursed, and there was a crazy murder that happened! After that, even crazier things kept happening until one day it just kinda, I dunno, got abandoned or something, and now it's super haunted from all the cursed stuff.” Henry turned to Hans and Pavel.
Pavel lifted a half-finished cigarette to his lips and took a long drag. His black nail polish was chipping, and his fingers were ever so faintly yellowed from the nicotine.
“Can you not blow that in my face, choir boy?” Hans took the bitter cigarette, flicked it onto the ground, and squashed it underneath his too-expensive-for-the-trip dress shoes.
“You owe me a new packet.” Pavel huffed.
“Yeah, yeah. I buy all your cigarettes anyway.” Hans turned to Henry, “Can we just get started, Hal?”
“I went out of my way to research this place for you two, and what do I get in return? No acknowledgement. None.” Henry crossed his arms. Hans laughed, more to himself than anyone, and placed a delicate hand on Henry's cheek, which immediately flushed red under his touch.
“Oh, Hal. Thank you, thank you immensely for your hard work. How can we repay you for putting the name of a monastery into Google? Would you like to take this to the backseat?” Hans smiled widely. His eyes sparkled with mischief as they locked intensely with Henry’s.
“You know what? A detour to the backseat sounds great about now. I love how cramped and stained it is back there.” Pavel rested his elbows on Hans and Henry’s shoulders. Henry broke away and rummaged in the duffel bag.
“Later, I’m serious about this! I’ve got a bunch of shit from Amazon, we can all pick one to stick with, and I have some, like, special group one too for the end.” Henry showed them inside the bag.
Hans grabbed a flashlight. When he clicked it on, it shone a vibrant purple light. He waved it around the area, stopping when he aimed it into the backseat of the car, and the stained seat radiated under the light.
“Gross. But cool, I’ll take whatever this is.” Hans turned back to the two men.
“That one’s a UV light. Supposedly, you’ll be able to see handprints left by ghosts, so if something closes a door or whatever, you should shine it on it.” Pavel spoke as he rummaged through the duffel bag before pulling out one of the objects.
“Alright, I’ll take the EMF.” He searched Henry up and down with the reader. Of course, there was nothing. But Henry laughed under his breath.
“The fuck is an EMF?” Hans leant against the car again.
“Basically, it beeps if there’s a ghost. God, we’d be in there by now if we didn’t have to explain everything to you. I keep saying you should join our watch parties!” Henry flicked Hans’ nose, to which Hans scrunched up his face and scoffed.
“I don’t have time for that, Hal. I prioritise sleep, unlike you two lowlifes.”
“You say that, yet you practically live in our shitty little lowlife apartment. You’re a lowlife at heart, admit it.” Henry smiled.
“Mhm, alright, what’re you taking then, Henry?” Hans looked down at Henry.
“I’ll take the video camera, I have a spirit-box in here too, but we’ll do that together, I think. And I have an Ouija board.” Henry took out his phone.
“A video camera. Right. Why are you the one allowed to use your phone?” Hans grabbed the phone, glancing at Henry's wallpaper. It was a picture of that dog he saved from the pound—the whole reason they even lived in that shithole. It was the only apartment block in the area that allowed animals.
“Nobody is stopping you from using your phone.” Pavel laughed and shoved Hans’ shoulder. It made him stumble a bit on his crossed legs, though he regained his balance quickly and pushed away from the car, letting out a mildly aggravated groan.
“Alright, come on.” Henry turned his phone to landscape and began recording with the flash. Hans squinted as the light was shoved into his face.
“Jesus Christ, Henry! Get that thing out of my face!” Hans covered the camera with his hand and shoved the oaf away. Pavel pushed his way in front of the camera.
“Welcome, everyone, to our amazing ghost hunting trip. I’m joined here with my two boyfriends–” Pavel spoke so closely to the camera, Henry could only see his nose and mouth on the footage. He snorted loudly. Hans grimaced at the wording.
“Boyfriends? That sounds so immature.” Hans started walking ahead of them towards the monastery's entrance.
“As you can tell, Hans is the grump among us. I'd like to say I'm the rebellious one, and this one…” Pavel took the phone and flipped it so that he and Henry were in view, “This is just Henry.” Henry smiled and quickly landed a soft peck on Pavel’s ear.
“Can you two lovebirds hurry up? Are we forgetting I have a meeting later?” Hans stood, arms spread out, in front of the large monastery door.
“Awh, Birdie’s impatient.” Pavel handed the phone back to Henry as they caught up.
When they got close enough to the monastery, they noticed how graffiti-covered the walls truly were. Devils, words of warnings, signatures. It proved to be a popular destination. The door was large, heavy, and jammed. And as much as Hans pushed on it, it wouldn’t open.
“Move aside, My Lord, let your humble squire assist you.” Henry laughed as he shouldered past Hans and rammed himself into it. Hans hated the 'Lord and Squire' dynamic Henry put onto them, but it was 'too funny to drop'. Hans really, really, didn't think so.
The door opened under Henry's pure mass. Pavel grasped Henry’s bicep.
“Nice job, Hal.” He smiled. Hans scoffed and pushed past the two of them, a lock of his blonde hair falling into his face. He whipped his head to push his hair back and continued his journey forward.
They found themselves in a large chapel. An altar at the other end of the room bore a crucified, beheaded Jesus. A red ‘666’ was written across the figure's arms and torso. Pavel looked away from the sight, chewing on the chain of his necklace. The pulpit was destroyed, but not destroyed enough to prevent Henry from climbing up and standing in it. He panned the camera to capture the chapel. His phone light didn’t provide the best light source, but it was better than nothing, considering he forgot a proper torch. The whole place smelled old and dirty, and faintly like rotten eggs. Hans grimaced and put the hoodie over his nose.
“Pious, give me a prayer or something to say up here!” Henry called out to the man who was investigating an old donation box; it had been pried open and borderline destroyed. He ignored Henry.
“Pavelll, come on, man, didn’t you study to be a priest?” Henry zoomed in the camera on the man.
“Don’t you think you’ll enrage the spirit by doing that?” Pavel turned around and made his way to the pulpit. He offered something up to the camera. It was a condom wrapper. “Look what I found in the donation box, how generous!”
Henry’s laugh bounced off the walls of the room, and it went straight to Pavel’s head.
Hans was shining the UV around the chapel. He saw their own handprints on items they’d touched—but nothing new. Of course, he didn’t expect to find anything else; he was only checking to have the upper hand against Henry. He washed the purple light over the room’s altar. Splattered stains glowed from the stone.
Gross.
Yet the thought of the three of them performing the most unholy deeds in the holiest place caused a shiver to travel along his spine. He shook the thought away.
“Okay, I really don’t think there’s anything in here. Can we move on?” Hans found his way to Henry and Pavel. Henry was off the pulpit now. They were both staring, mesmerised, at a golden crucifix that stood in the middle of the floor. Pavel was aiming the EMF reader at the object, and it beeped softly and flicked between the two different greens.
“It’s not high enough, but it’s something." Henry whispered to Pavel.
“Mhm. I have a good feeling about this place, Hal.” Pavel looked into the camera’s lens.
"How is that thing even here still?" Hans picked up the hefty object. He suspected it was, in fact, real gold.
"Hans! Put it down, it's probably cursed!" Henry instinctively gripped onto Hans' wrist.
"Cursed?" Hans laughed, "Sure." He placed it back into its spot. The EMF reader flicked to orange for a brief, missable second.
“You two are ridiculous. Let's get a move on.” Hans walked ahead of them again. The other two shared a cheeky smile as they followed their blonde leader. Again.
Large floor-to-ceiling windows framed the halls, and the archways that led to the various rooms were equally as tall. There were four main, trashed halls that surrounded an open and grassed centre area. It allowed the moonlight to light up the dim and ghastly halls. Thick layers of rubble coated the floors.
“Fuck, what’s that smell?” Pavel stopped in his tracks and glanced around, “Shit. Don’t they say demons cause bad smells?”
“You rat! Don’t say that!” Hans walked back over to Pavel and shoved him in the chest, causing him to stumble a step back before he regained his footing.
“I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts?” Pavel smirked, staring at Hans slyly from below his dark brows.
“I don’t. It’s just—it’s bad juju when you mention stuff like that, okay?” Hans' ears burned a light pink.
“Stuff like what? Demons?” Henry laughed, and Hans shoved him too. “Nah, it was me, burrito’s not sitting well.” Hans stared at him, mouth slightly agape. He scoffed.
“My god.” Hans rolled his eyes and continued forward. Henry laughed heartily. The sound blessed Hans' ears. He much preferred the obnoxious bellowing of Henry than the chilling quiet of this god-forsaken monastery; though, he would never admit it.
They decided to explore the open grass area before any of the separate rooms; they doubted it would be haunted. It was a beautiful night. The moon was full, and the stars watched over them expectantly. They wouldn’t miss this chance. There was something intimate about watching the night sky from a haunted monastery in contrast to their tiny shithole apartment’s balcony.
Hans found himself lost in the stars. Each blinked their own rhythm, yet harmonised. It truly was beautiful. He realised he was grateful he’d been dragged along and that he managed to prevent himself from causing too much of a scene.
“Do you guys reckon this is real holy water?” Henry stood in front of an old bird bath that was hidden amidst the weeds.
“Henry, you oaf, that’s a bird bath.” Hans approached and stared at Henry’s reflection through the moonlit water. Henry looked up at the sky and realised how the water got there in the first place.
“Right.” He wandered away from Hans and found Pavel, who was leaning down in the grass and inspecting his EMF reader.
“This is trippy as fuck.” Pavel looked up at Henry. He had found a small pentagram on the floor, a candle at each of its points. The candles were, of course, out. His EMF blinked between 2 and 3.
“Now that is seriously bad juju.” Hans appeared behind Pavel. Suddenly, the EMF went all the way to 5. A gust of wind sent shivers down the boys' spines. The wind settled, and so did the reader.
Pavel stood up and glanced around. The dark monastery didn’t seem so funny anymore. Goosebumps coated his pale skin.
Fuck. Of course, he believed as much as Henry, but he wasn’t expecting to get any real readings.
“Oh my god, it was a fucking demon, I can smell it!” Hans had turned ghostly and appeared glued to the ground.
“Nope, that was me, I think I just shat myself.” Henry looked at Hans, a lot more genuine than Hans had expected, and it made him wonder if Henry really did soil himself. “Nah, I’m just pulling your leg, I mean it was me, but I didn’t actually shit myself.”
Pavel laughed and shook his head.
“Alright. Let’s move on. I don’t like how open we are here.” Pavel led the way this time. Henry wrapped an arm around Hans and pulled him out of his frozen state.
“How about we find the upstairs?” Henry called out to Pavel, who put a thumbs-up over his shoulder. Pavel chewed on his necklace chain, fumbled around his pockets, and found a loose cigarette amongst his keys and lighter. He lit it and let go of the chain. He blew a cloud of bitterly delicious smoke into the frosty air, which wafted back and smacked both Hans and Henry in the face. Hans coughed dramatically while Henry breathed it in as if it were the freshest air he had smelt his entire life.
Pavel found a staircase and made his way to the top. He wondered how different life would be if he pursued the priesthood. He’d probably wander halls like this all the time.
Celibacy would suck…
But nobody would have to know if he occasionally broke the rules.
Tall, dusty bookshelves ran along the walls of the room they found themselves in. A library, obviously. The empty shelves reached floor to ceiling, as most things in the monastery did. Pavel’s EMF flicked onto the second level when they entered the room. It stayed on that reading. There were a few desks and lecterns in the room as well. At the back of the room sat a confession booth. This room definitely wasn’t its original home; it must have been moved there either while the building was still running, or by someone who thought it would be funny to rearrange the place while it was abandoned. Nonetheless, it was menacing.
“Fuck… this place is creepy.” Henry panned the camera around the room. Small dust particles danced in the muggy air. The temperature had risen significantly.
“Mhm.” Pavel traced his hands over pieces of loose parchment spread haphazardly over the desks. “This is sick, these are like—old—and Latin.”
“You know Latin?” Hans scoffed as he stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Pavel.
“I studied to be a priest, Hans. Of course I know Latin.” Pavel glared at him. Hans smirked, mirth in the corner of his eyes. Pavel shook his head and smiled before taking a puff of his cigarette. Henry approached and took the smoke, taking a long drag before putting it back in Pavel’s mouth. Hans stole it this time and squashed it, again, under his shoe.
“Breaking and entering is one thing; let's not add arson.” He picked a lonesome book off the shelf and, in one swoop, wiped the dust off its cover. Henry sneezed and it sprayed onto Hans’ face.
“Henry! You—!” He was interrupted by a loud, all-consuming bang. The door to the library had swung closed. Pavel rushed over with the EMF—an instant reading of 5. The reading stayed put.
“Hans!” Pavel whipped his head around and nodded towards the door, urging Hans to come over with the UV. Hans complied, speed walking—however much a rich brat could speed walk—over to Pavel. He shone the purple light over the door’s surface. A handprint; clear as day. Henry zoomed into the print.
"Sick." He whispered under his breath.
“Okay. Open that door right now. I’m not kidding, open it.” Hans fiddled with the hoodie's strings, eyeing Pavel with worry-filled sincerity.
“Alright, alright. Calm down.” Pavel pushed the door open. He was internally extremely grateful it actually opened; Hans might’ve dove headfirst out the second-story window otherwise. He wrapped his arms around Hans and let him melt into his raggedy shirt. The EMF had stopped.
“You stink.” Hans groaned into the crook of Pavel’s neck.
“Not as much as Henry.” He laughed and petted Hans’ back before pushing him away. Hans laughed and turned to Henry. He was filming the confession booth. It was old, made of wood and extremely grand, with three doors leading into it.
“This is so haunted. I feel it in my feet.” Henry turned to them. He was surprised to find them both staring in his direction.
“Your… feet?” Hans raised an eyebrow. He was now standing next to Henry and admiring the booth.
“Henry’s feet can sense a ghost, but can’t sense dog shit on the footpath.” Pavel laughed as all three of them now stood shoulder-to-shoulder.
“That was literally one time.” Henry sighed. Hans laughed.
“It wasn’t one time, Hal.”
“Okay, fine, maybe it was twice. But still, this is definitely haunted.” Henry opened the far left door of the confession booth. There was a small, wooden seat inside.
“Not doing it.” Pavel stepped back from the booth.
“Mhm, me neither.” Henry turned to Hans and smiled.
Hans groaned and covered his face with his hands.
“You will not catch me going into that tiny little booth.” Hans shook his head.
“Hey! What’s that thing you always say? Fortune favours the brave? C'mon...” Henry’s cheekbones hurt from smiling. He bent down and presented the booth to Hans in the way a squire would present a new horse to his lord.
“We’ll leave the door open, promise. Just—sit in there. For a moment.” Pavel appeared behind Hans and began to slowly push him towards the entrance. Grumbling in protest, Hans sat himself on the small seat and stared out at the two boys. They were so, so fucking lucky he loved them.
“When was your last confession, my child?” Pavel put his hands together reverently and smiled from behind his clasped hands. His dark eyes sparkled.
“I’m not roleplaying with you.” Hans crossed his arms and leaned against the back of the booth. Pavel shrugged in defence and raised his hands as he backed away.
A cold breeze disturbed the warm room. It travelled up Pavel’s spine and lingered on the back of his neck. Henry glanced toward the windows; they were all closed.
“Hey guys—” before he could finish, the door to the confession booth slammed shut. The EMF reader broke the deadly silence that came after the slam as well as the whispering that emerged from the wind. The door began to violently shake; the sound of Hans' fists was relentless.
“FUCK! Get me out of here!” Hans' voice was high-pitched and strained. His breathing picked up, and the confession booth suddenly began smelling like dirt—bitter, overwhelming, and subtly like eggs again. This time, the stench wasn’t Henry. All colour from Hans’ face drained. His heart threatened to rip through his chest; the hammer-like pounding filled his ears. He desperately clawed at the fabric of the hoodie, which suddenly felt too hot on his skin.
“FUCK HENRY! GET ME OUT OF HERE!” He rammed himself against the door. It was no use. Instead, he glued himself back-to-wall. He ripped the hoodie off and threw it on the floor. Soon, he joined the hoodie and slid down the wall and pulled his knees close to his chest. Hans felt a weight against his shoulder—nothing was there, but he undoubtedly felt a presence. His breath caught in his throat, and his lungs thrashed as he failed to take in air.
“Hold on, Hans! It’ll be fine! Just—hold on!” Henry tugged at the door, but to no avail. Shit. He couldn’t bear the thought of Hans stuck in there, scared, alone, and he wasn’t able to protect him.
Pavel stood in front of the door and inhaled. Rich, sulphur-like air filled his senses. He crossed himself before he lifted his necklace and pointed the crucifix at the door. He began to mumble under his breath.
Henry’s mind was fogged, Hans being the only thing that consumed it, and even then, he couldn’t figure out how to help him. He clutched the camera strongly, as though if he let it go, he was letting go of all hope. The EMF died down to a three.
Pavel stepped forward and opened the booth door as if it had never been jammed in the first place. Hans scrambled to his feet. His face was wet, and he hastened to shove himself into Pavel’s embrace. Pavel wrapped an arm around his waist, and the other lodged itself into his blonde hair. Hans was shaking, and it was evident he was trying to fight it back.
“Shh.” Pavel scratched his head. Slowly, Hans's breathing began to stabilise, hot and ragged against Pavel's exposed neck.
“Jesus, Hans. We shouldn’t have made you go in there. I’m sorry.” Henry carefully rubbed Hans' back. Hans quickly pulled away from the both of them and wiped his face.
“No, no—I’m fine, don’t be sorry.” He straightened his back and cleared his throat, then smiled at them while holding his head high.
“On the bright side, it’s safe to say we’ve found the room.” Pavel grabbed the UV light that Hans had left on the bottom of the confession booth and shone it over the wooden surfaces. Handprints covered the wall which Hans had leant against, and a handprint on the outside of the door from when it had been slammed.
“That’s freaky as fuck.” Hans brushed a hand through his hair. It slicked back nicely from the sweat he had accumulated during his freak-out.
“Okay, I have two options.” Henry put the phone on a bookshelf so it was able to capture them as he rummaged through his duffel bag. “Now, I have the Ouija board, and a spirit-box, which I really, really, really want to try the Estes method.”
“Alright, how about we start with the Ouija board and then do the box as our final hurrah for the night?” Pavel leant against the confession booth and started chewing on his necklace again.
Henry nodded in approval as he took out the board and placed it on the floor. He sat in front of it and gestured for the other two to join them. Hans sat to his right, and Pavel to his left.
“Can’t believe I’m agreeing to do more of this witchcraft shit.” Hans shook his head.
“Hey! It’s not witchcraft, it’s, I don’t know, science? And I thought you didn’t believe.” Henry bumped his shoulder against Hans’.
“Yeah, Henry, I don’t believe after I just got trapped in a tiny confession booth by a fucking demon. And I never said I didn’t believe, I just doubted the fact we’d find anything.” Hans leaned back on his hands. Henry smiled at Pavel, who shrugged and put two fingers on the Ouija board chip. Henry followed.
“C’mon, Hans.” He nudged him again with his shoulder. Hans blew a raspberry of acceptance as he slouched forward and put his fingers next to the others.
“How does this work?” Hans straightened his back.
“We just ask it a question, and it’ll move the chip around and spell stuff if we want it to.” Henry answered.
“Is there a spirit here with us in this room?” Pavel initiated the game.
The chip stayed still until it shook ever so slightly. It glided across the board and landed on ‘yes’. Pavel’s eyes lit up, and a wide smile grew across his face.
“That’s dope as fuck.” He fixed his posture.
“What do you want from us?” Henry asked—as if they weren’t the ones intruding on its space. The chip began to glide again. It slowly stopped over the G. It continued its path over several letters; the A, the Y, the S, the E and finally the X. Hans stood up and placed his hands on his hips.
“Not funny. Who did that?” He grumbled. Pavel suddenly rolled onto his back and burst out with a—somewhat—maniacal laugh.
“Shit, sorry, I couldn’t help myself.” He reached up and grabbed Hans’ hand and pulled him back down to the floor.
“Guys, Come on… We have to be serious about this.” Henry huffed. Hans hastily moved the chip to ‘Goodbye’.
“Nope, Pious ruined it. No more Ouija board.” He lifted his head high and averted his gaze from them.
“God, you’re such a princess,” Pavel laughed and stood up. He lingered over Hans and stared down at him. Hans whipped his head in the other direction.
“Alright, let’s just go home then.” Henry was already packing up the duffel bag and swinging it over his shoulder, mildly upset that the Ouija board was cut short.
“But we didn’t get to use the spirit-box?” Pavel helped Hans to his feet.
“Yeah, but like, it’s getting late, and Hans has a meeting, and you guys aren’t really taking it seriously.”
“Hal, I'm feeling generous. Hanush can deal with it. Let’s do this.” Hans grabbed Henry by the shoulders and smiled warmly at him. Hans wouldn't admit how much he was enjoying his time with them, but this was his own way of expressing it. His sincere gaze caused a warm and soft sensation to bubble within Henry. He smiled, rather dopily, and scruffed up Hans’ hair.
“Nah, seriously, I’m stuffed. I really need to shit.” Henry laughed. Hans responded with a small chuckle before he nodded his head.
“Alright, let’s go then.”
“Yep, also fine by me.” Pavel pushed himself between the two of them, “Don’t forget your phone, Hal.”
Soft moonlight bounced off Henry’s 2003 Nissan Pulsar. Pebbles, he named it; his pride and joy. The fog had mostly lifted, and they were instead left in the darkest hour of the night. Pavel rummaged in his pocket and took out his keys. He had a small torch keychain attached to the carabiner—he clicked on the light and used it to navigate to the car.
“Pious.” Hans stopped in his tracks. Pavel turned around and shone the light on Hans’ face—the man squinted and averted his eyes. He groaned.
“What?”
“Are you telling me you’ve had a torch on you this entire time?” Hans pushed the torch down so the light was out of his eyes.
“Oh yeah, I guess I did. Sorry.” Pavel shrugged and turned back around, continuing his way to the car.
“You’re sorry? That’s not something you just forget! We could barely see in there! Henry’s pathetic phone light did jack shit!” Hans rushed up to Pavel, who stretched an arm along the length of Hans’ shoulders and squeezed his upper arm.
Henry unlocked the car and loaded the equipment into the boot. Once it was secure, he made his way to the driver’s seat. Hans followed, lounging in the passenger seat, and Pavel made himself comfortable by lying across the length of Henry’s backseat. Henry reached over Hans and rummaged in the glovebox. He grabbed a CD, opened it, and fumbled trying to shove it into the car’s radio. Eventually, he got it in, and the wonderful sound of Henry’s favourite album—OK Computer—echoed in the small space.
Henry finally got ghost hunting out of his system, and Hans wondered what the next spontaneous adventure would be. He, surprisingly, enjoyed this trip. He looked forward to whatever Henry dragged him into next, and hoped it wouldn't involve him having a panic attack. He recalled the latest YouTube watch night Henry and Pavel did: a tabletop game with magical things, like dragons and the occasional dungeon. He—secretly—hoped he'd be dragged into playing something like that with them both. He’d be an elf, he thought. Maybe Henry would be a giant, and Pavel a simple human. The possibilities were endless.