Chapter Text
Grace let out a groan, burying her face into her pillow and willing her alarm clock to shut itself off. When it kept blaring at her bedside, she sighed and rolled over to snooze it.
She was instantly jolted awake when she read the time.
6:15.
There was less than an hour before class started.
Grace scrambled out of bed, tripping over her sheets and nearly toppling over in her panic. She slammed the dismiss button on her alarm and rushed over to her closet, throwing on the freshest and easiest-to-access clothes she had.
She ran to the bathroom, combed through her short, ruffled blonde hair and brushed her teeth before bolting to the kitchen and brewing herself a cup of coffee. She threw a piece of bread in the toaster, which gave her a meager few minutes to relax.
How had she managed to do this again? She swore she set more alarms than last year, specifically to avoid disastrous mornings like this.
There was no reason to reminisce, she decided. With a sigh, she grabbed her bagged lunch from the fridge and shoved it into her overstuffed, disorganized backpack that she tossed over by the front door. She put on her usual tennis shoes before being alerted to her finished breakfast by a telltale ding of the coffee machine, followed by the spring of the toaster.
She glanced at her watch. It was now 6:43, class officially started at 7:40, and it took her at least 10 minutes to bike herself to work, not to mention that she had to be there early to set up.
The math, unfortunately, provided her with the harsh reality that she wouldn’t have time to enjoy her breakfast at home yet again. She cursed under her breath, snatching up her toast and burning the roof of her mouth when she scarfed it down without giving it a chance to cool. She poured her fresh coffee into a tumbler, managing to spill some in the process, and she spent an extra minute cleaning it up.
She left her apartment by 6:46, helmet hastily clipped to her head in preparation for the journey to school, fox cardigan tossed over her shoulders, and halfway unzipped backpack in hand. She took a moment to thank herself for choosing an apartment on the second floor as she ran down the steps and out the door, waving and shouting out some quick good mornings when she was greeted by her friends and neighbors.
She made it into her classroom 30 minutes before she was contractually obligated to be there and 15 minutes after she preferred to be there.
Although, she couldn’t complain. It wasn’t her worst time. She’d managed to get into the building a whopping 3 minutes before class began before. That was a fun day for first period, at least, seeing as she hadn’t a single thing prepared for the day.
Grace, of course, spent the rest of her pre-class time setting up. She jotted down the day’s agenda on the board— they were going over environmental sciences at the moment— and getting her lesson plan pulled up on her laptop. She was eternally grateful for the coffee she had at her desk, which she took gulps of every few minutes.
By the time students started filing into the classroom, she was actually almost ready for lessons to start. She made some final adjustments to notes, finished printing out activity sheets, and arranging everything she’d need on her desk.
She always enjoyed the sounds of students bantering and laughing as they filed into class, even if the more chatter there was, the less they’d be paying attention.
Plus, it was Friday. Fridays always meant that attention from her students would be limited; she’d known that way before starting her teaching job. She was a student once, after all. A Friday was basically an extra weekend day for anyone who didn’t have a test.
As the overhead bell rang, signaling the beginning of class, she chugged the last of her coffee and stood up in front of the board. She clapped her hands together, gaining the attention of a few students while the rest continued chattering on.
This wasn’t unexpected, even from a class that claimed to adore her as a teacher and came through to gift her the most of any teacher for last year’s teacher appreciation week. Kids would be kids, and she knew that. That attitude wouldn’t make the day go by any faster, however.
By the time Grace dragged herself to the teacher’s lounge for lunch only halfway through the day, she was already ready to go home and pass out. She flopped down onto a chair with a heavy sigh, tossing her lunch bag onto the table.
By the time she got there, Dimitri, Yao, Ilyukhin, DuBois, and Carla were already chatting and enjoying their breaks. Grace sat herself down at the table Yao and Ilyukhin were occupying while Carla leaned against the wall and spectated, occasionally offering a comment or two.
Grace had only been there for a lousy few seconds before she noticed Ilyukhin’s raised brow and slight smirk. She looked over at him with exasperation and gave him an exaggerated frown.
“What is it now? Do I have something on my face?”
It wasn’t unusual for her to get offhanded comments from her friends or receive light teases, but they were often spot-on or served as a fair warning. She was a 23-year-old only a few months into her second year of teaching, after all; she usually benefited from the words of much more experienced teachers.
“Oh, nothing. I just like your shirt.” Ilyukhin said with a snicker, raising a cup of water to his face in a poor attempt to conceal it.
Yao let out a light laugh in response and Carla simply shook her head. Grace pressed her chin to her chest and stretched out the shirt with her hands.
The text read According to chemistry, alcohol is a solution with an illustration of two beer glasses toasting.
Not exactly middle-school friendly.
Grace blinked at the shirt and released it, slowly moving to cover the front with her cardigan. At least she had that to hide it.
Ohhh. No wonder her classes had been extra distracted and giggly today.
“You’re not telling Stratt about this, right?” Grace asked, cringing at the idea of the principle finding out about her latest little mishap.
She barely managed to beg for this job when Stratt brought up her job history. She didn’t have Stratt’s undivided attention, let alone her respect. Plus, she was a newbie. She was beyond expendable, so even a stupid little incident felt like her whole world had the potential to crumble if word got out. Being fired over a rushed wardrobe choice would be exactly the type of thing to happen to her.
“No, no, don’t worry. We’re not that horrible of coworkers.” Ilyukhin teased, and despite his tone, Grace relaxed.
She really needed this job. Like, desperately. Too desperately. It was kind of sad, actually, that she was so reliant on her shitty little teacher salary because she fumbled so badly with what could’ve been a very promising future in molecular biology.
“Oh, thank you.” Grace sighed, clutching her hand dramatically to her chest while simultaneously buttoning up the cardigan.
“Speaking of stupid shirts, we’re going out tonight. You coming?” Yao asked, a mischievous sparkle in her eye.
Drinking always meant stupid crap was going to happen. Maybe it was just that she was a scrawny little lightweight, but there wasn’t a single outing that didn’t end with horribly embarrassing photos on her friends’ phones and a devastating hangover that obliterated any potential plans for the next day.
It sounded like a perfect way to end the week.
Grace gave a smile and a far too eager nod.
“I’ll be there.” She assured, reaching for the phone in her jeans pocket.
She didn’t need to announce it for the rest of the group to know she was inviting Rocky.
Rocky was her best friend since they met by chance in college and realized just how much they had in common, and she knew Grace’s drinking habits better than Grace tended to. She was always there to keep an eye on everyone, if not to party with them.
She typed out the message with one hand and pulled a sandwich out of her lunch bag with the other.
HEYYYYY party tn are you gonna be there?????
She placed her phone face down on the table while she waited for a response, engaging in casual conversation with her colleagues, mostly about their students and lesson plans.
Yao was a history teacher with a commanding and simultaneously friendly air to her, and Ilyukhin was a bright and bubbly guy who taught an engineering-like extracurricular class. They both had very different students, teaching styles, and lesson plans, which meant they often collaborated with their ideas and built off of what worked with students and what didn’t. It was honestly one of the most productive work relationships Grace had developed in her life.
Carla was hired as a security guard, but she had a tendency to involve herself with whatever needed attention, since their old, wimpy, small-town middle school didn’t have many security or student issues. She was beloved by one and all in the school, especially with how easy the students found it to talk to her.
Other than Grace’s fresh presence, Carla was the newest addition to the little friend group. Grace had originally thought she was unlikely to fit in with them well, but she was beyond grateful that she ended up blending in seamlessly. She wasn’t sure she’d have been able to put up with student shenanigans longer than a few months if it hadn’t been for them.
It took five minutes for Grace’s phone to buzz on the table. She picked it up and clicked on the message from Rocky.
Can Adrian come?
Grace smiled at her phone and texted a quick confirmation. The more the merrier, right?
Adrian was Rocky’s partner; they were tall, calm, polite, and generally pretty quiet. Grace knew that could easily change when alcohol was involved, though.
Rocky’s next response was immediate.
We’ll be there. Don’t forget to send details this time though.
Grace rolled her eyes despite not being face-to-face and asked Yao about time and place.
Smuggler’s Cove, 7 PM. Grace’s excitement was palpable despite the event still being hours off, not to mention they were meeting three and a half hours after school got out. Guess she’d have to occupy herself with grading papers until then.
The rest of her break went by far too quickly, and the last few periods of the day dragged on far too long. Grace would’ve passed out as soon as she got home if not for the plans she’d made that evening. Buzzing with anticipation, she pedaled to her apartment as fast as she could to get ready.
She got the impression that this event wasn’t going to be “formal”, per se, but she still felt that she needed to up her game when it came to appearance. She shed her beat-up converse, cardigan, offending t-shirt, and jeans the first second she could and pulled out all her prettiest dresses to put on a mini fashion show for herself. Screw grading papers, she could do that when she was hungover and nauseous tomorrow!
Her dress collection wasn’t anything to fawn at, not in size and certainly not in price, but it was decent; she had six dresses that didn’t have a single rip or stain and at least two that got doused in wine at one point or another and/or split a million seams down the side from her doing something stupid.
What could she say? As far as she was concerned, she was still young and spry with a love to party.
The first dress she tried on was a strapless purple cheetah print, with a baggy front and a cinched waist and a skirt too short for her liking. She scrapped it immediately.
The second was a soft pink with a deep V-neck, spaghetti straps, a corset backing, and a skirt that reached her mid-thigh. She didn’t mind it, but pink was not her color. She put in in a maybe pile.
The third was a disturbingly bright orange. She scrapped it without trying it on or looking at literally any other detail. Why did she even own that?
The fourth was shimmery and white, with another very short skirt and a more tasteful version of number-2’s neckline, along with thicker straps. She would’ve liked it better if it didn’t make her feel like a slutty bride. She scrapped it.
Five was also sparkly, but blue instead. It matched her eyes rather well, probably the main reason she bought it. The skirt was still too short, strapless with an m-neckline and a tie at the waist. She decided it was a top choice for color alone.
Finally, she grabbed a black dress with a silky skirt that tapered to one side and a bedazzled top with another m-neckline. This one had spaghetti straps covered in fat, low-quality rhinestones. It was definitely too small for her, but not visually, only because her lungs refused to inflate past half capacity. Where’d she even get this? She settled on an impulsive thrift find.
She chose the black dress because it was the only one that didn’t make her feel like a soon-to-be college dropout.
It was only 4:57 by the time she did the very minimum for makeup, fixed her hair to the best to her abilities, and tossed a pair of chunky black heels by the door to put on when she was on her way out the door. Looking at the time, she let out a long sigh and fixed herself a pre-dinner snack to eat while she begrudgingly resorted to grading a few papers before she left.
She decided to walk to the bar instead of bike to avoid ruining her barely-tamed locks. She was far from graceful on her heels, but she managed to not look like a baby deer trying to stand for the first time despite her lack of experience. She brought a sparkly black shoulder bag that she prayed she wouldn’t misplace tonight, and she pulled her phone out of it, just to quadruple check she was approaching the front of the right bar. She was.
Grace slowed as she reached her destination and stared at the front door. She had arrived almost 15 minutes early because she got sick of grading papers. With a deep breath, she pushed the door open and peered inside.
All of her anxiety vanished when she saw that Carla was already sitting at the bar, sipping at some whiskey. Grace rushed up and greeted her, eager to see a new face. Unlike Grace, she wore the same outfit from work, though the rolled up sleeves of a button-up and black jeans was pretty versatile once she ditched the security guard vest she was meant to wear over it at school.
Rocky and Adrian were next to arrive, and exactly on time, of course.
Rocky had her short, gray-streaked wavy black hair tucked into a neat bun, with oval-rimmed glasses that matched Grace’s own pair and an ankle-length dress that was black with teal streaks running diagonally across the skirt and a teal, beaded necklace stack. She wore three different pairs of teal earrings in her lobe piercings and had teal shoes to match. Grace never understood how exactly Rocky’s entire wardrobe seemed to intertwine to well.
Meanwhile, Adrian wore their braided hair in a half-up style. They had teal woven into their natural brown color and golden accents sprinkled throughout. They matched Rocky well in clothing style, with a white button-up with half sleeves and a black vest overtop. Their jewelry was the same as Rocky’s, with a teal pocket square. They had on sleek black pants and black dress shoes.
Rocky was quick to rush up to Grace, and Grace was quick to match the energy. She threw herself off the seat as the two collided in a warm hug.
“Hey, Rock! It’s been way too long!” Grace said with a giggle.
It had been exactly 17 days since they last hung out.
“Aww, I didn’t think you’d miss me that bad.” Rocky teased, and they continued to laugh together. Grace gave Adrian a quick greeting and received one in response before they all sat at the bar together.
Yao and Ilyukhin arrived almost half an hour late, far too giggly and scatter-brained to be fully sober. Grace didn’t care, though. Those two had been friends for ever, nor was it a new thing for them. Luckily, Grace was already a couple drinks deep herself, with very little convincing from Rocky to try a few menu items.
The rest of the night was awesome. At least, that’s what she imagines. She didn’t actually remember most of it, just snippets of dancing, laughing way to hard at stupid crap, singing horribly at karaoke, and going outside to smoke a joint with Yao and Ilyukhin halfway through it all. She also remembered how Rocky, the one who usually monitored her journey home, had left early, which left her stumbling home by herself with her heels in her hand.
It wasn’t all that unusual for people to be walking home from the bars in the early hours of the morning, especially not in a small town, where getting drunk with your friends was one of the best sources of entertainment.
So, the walk home was about as safe as she made it. Unfortunately, she usually ended up going off the rails at least once.
Tonight, she actually made it to her apartment building before a stupid, dangerous, and potentially illegal idea popped into her head.
Behind her apartment complex, not too far into the redwoods, sat a mini mansion. “Mini” didn’t hold much ground, however. This place was still huge.
It was old-timey and painted in monotone grays and blacks, with tightly boarded up windows and a strangely open front door. Despite how many dumb teens would break in or spray paint the outside, it was always repainted within the day. Anyone who snuck inside would always come out shaken and pale, with tall tales of demons and monsters that resided in the walls and chased them out.
Grace had already gone a few years without even entertaining the idea of breaking in, but tonight was different. Was it because she was high and drunk off her ass or because her curiosity was always known to screw her over? It was probably both, to be honest.
She let out a giggle that she stifled with her palm as if some rando nearby would hear her and rip her away from her mission. Tripping over tree roots and stumbling around bushes, she made her way deeper and deeper into the forest.
She only got a few feet in before having to grab her phone and use the flashlight to guide her. Luckily, she kept it charged. It was only at…
13%?
Grace froze in her tracks. That was nearly enough to deter her from her goal… nearly. Determination and unbridled stupidity pushed her forward. She was so distracted she nearly missed the You home safe? text from Rocky.
She ignored it. She knew she wouldn’t be able to lie to her long-term best friend, and if she told the truth, Rocky would for sure show up and drag her wailing and kicking back home if she had to, forcing water in her hand while scolding her and yammering on about how they weren’t in college, how they couldn’t do whatever we wanted anymore, how Grace especially had a job she couldn’t risk losing, yada yada yada. Stupid, obnoxiously responsible stuff.
It didn’t take long for her to nearly fall into a clearing. As she regained her balance and lifted her phone flashlight higher, she gaped at the sight in front of her.
The mansion was simultaneously as disturbingly creepy and jaw-droppingly beautiful as all the rumors suggested. The old architecture was absolutely stunning, even in the dark of night. Grace was even more excited to break in now.
She crept onto the porch carefully, the wood creaking with every shift of her weight. It was a miracle it held up at all.
The double doors were centered in the middle of a beautiful, carved archway. When Grace pressed her palm to the wood and gave a gentle push, she was met with no resistance.
That should’ve been a sign to turn tail and flee. A sign that there was someone in there, at the very least, who had the potential to be dangerous.
She didn’t see it as such. In her altered state of mind, she even perceived the lack of a lock as convenience.
The door swung open with a low groan, shuttering to a stop, the hinges clunking and clicking in protest to the movement.
The interior should’ve been deeply unsettling. The front door opened to a empty hall with doors on either side, stretching down much farther than her cruddy phone flashlight would reach. There were paintings hung up on both walls in between the doors, all old portraits of individuals or families, dust covering their surface and some of the canvases peeling away from the frames. A couple lay on the floor, one face down and stomped in and another leaning precariously against the wall.
Grace was too curious to be put off for more than a heartbeat. She walked into the house, crouched down as if that would help her if she ran into any complications and swinging her flashlight around the hall.
One of the more disturbing things she saw was that multiple of the frames had finger-shaped clearings on the dust, indicating that someone picked them up and hung them back on the wall.
Overconfident teens and headstrong vandalizers wouldn’t have put those back up.
A shiver ran down her spine at the realization. Now, fear was beginning to creep in.
Despite that, she pressed on. She touched her palm to a random door, dread filling her whole being as she tried to gently push it open.
There was, once again, no resistance. She still pulled her hand away, jumping when a sliver of moonlight cast itself along the carpeted hallway floor.
For a second, nothing happened. That second turned into 30, then a minute. Nothing. Grace started to calm down.
Then, her eyes snapped onto a movement.
Fingers curled around the door, skin pale in the moonlight and nails inhumanly long, sharp, and curved. Interestingly enough, they were delicately painted in a velvety red color.
Terror held Grace in a grip, only worsening at another flicker of movement. She looked a little bit higher.
An eye appeared around the corner, dark curls falling around a face with painfully scarred red skin. The eye in the center was wide open, surrounded by lush black eyelashes, the iris a deep brown.
Grace let out a shriek of terror and sprinted to the front door as soon as she could. That sobered her up quick. She shoved open the door that the wind had started to draw closed and scrambled down the stairs. She ran straight to her apartment without bothering to turn off her flashlight or tuck her phone away.
Everyone on the street and in the apartments lobby looked at her like she was insane, but she didn’t care. She bolted straight to her door and jammed the key into the lock with her hands shaking so much she nearly dropped it. She tossed the door open and slammed it closed behind her, switching the lock shut and immediately turning all the lights on.
She was left there, alone in her apartment, breaths fast and heaving, heart hammering in her chest. Her lungs burned with every breath. She was never the epitome of athleticism, and her body’s limits definitely reflected that.
She threw her heels over by the shoe rack and ran her hand down her face, probably smearing lipstick down her chin in the process.
Okay. She had to calm down. Sure, she’d just had the evidence of a next-level haunted house shoved into her face, but she was alive and okay and her aching legs were proof of that.
She was fine.
She took a few long, steadying breaths before anything else. Then, she looked at her phone and finally turned the damn flashlight off.
She looked at the time.
2:49 AM.
She wasn’t sure when she had left the bar, but that whole ordeal couldn’t have been that long, right?
Next, she looked at her battery.
8%. Ouch.
Lastly, she swiped open the lock screen and looked at the messages from Rocky. She cringed.
The oldest was from 12:16.
Hey, you alright? Sorry we left so early.
Another from 12:56.
Grace??? I get you’re having fun but look at your phone please.
1:43.
I might have to come back to check on you at this point.
2:03.
I thought this thing was over at 2??? Are you alive???
2:34.
If you don’t respond by 3 I’m actually driving over.
That was the most recent text. Grace sucked air in through her teeth and typed out a hasty response.
Hi hello yes hi I’m alive and back home…
She hesitated and continued typing.
…safe. You do not need to drive over. I’m very sincerely sorry for not texting sooner, I was very distracted and my phone is almost dead :(
That would have to be good enough. She sent the message and rushed to plug in her phone before it went kaput on her. She got the response as she was reaching for the charger.
Oh my God Rylie I thought you got kidnapped or something!
Grace let out an awkward laugh like her friend would hear it. She plugged in and made sure her phone was charging before responding.
I know I knowww I’m really sorry. You’re the best for checking up on me tho thank you xox.
She set her phone down and dragged herself over to her closet. Now that Rocky was filled in, she let a notification buzz without worrying about it. She yanked her dress off as quick as she could manage and threw on some random t-shirt before going to the bathroom and washing her smudged makeup off.
Once that was done and the contacts she’d put in earlier were out, she stared at her reflection. The bags under her eyes looked more accentuated than usual. Maybe that was just her imagination.
She thought back to what she saw in that mansion and shivered.
What the hell was that? Something told her it wasn’t a demon or a ghost or some bullcrap like all the gossiping kids suggested it was.
Maybe she was stupid to think that. She sighed and wandered into the kitchen to grab a glass of water, which she chugged in a few seconds, followed by her filling it again and taking it to her room.
She flopped down onto her bed with a huff, her body immediately sinking into the mattress. Her body felt insanely heavy, and not just due to the alcohol. Mostly from pure exhaustion, actually. Maybe a mix of the two.
She let out another long sigh before grabbing her phone off the nightstand. She opened the new text from Rocky.
It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re safe.
She smiled fondly at the message, sent a heart emoji, and put her phone back down.
She left the lights on in her room. She didn’t know if she could bring herself to sleep after what she’d witnessed today, let alone be comfortable without the warmth of the overhead.
She rolled over onto her side, tucked herself in, and closed her eyes.
She was out in a matter of seconds.