I Think My Neighbor’s Dead Son is Trying to Talk to Me?
You can also read this on A03, FF.net, or Wattpad
Summary:
Wes Weston has just moved into Amity Park but there is something seriously wrong with the destroyed house next door to him. Espically at night when the wind passed through the rusted Fenton Works sign. (AU Full Ghost Danny)
(Phicc Phight prompt fill for kalyke/aggressivelyclueless)
The cold summer’s air blasted itself at the nape of his neck, chilling him to the bone. It was a threat, or a command from above to stop, but Wes saw something in the old Fenton Works, and he had to know whose eyes he saw in the brief flashes of lighting.
It started last week, his father had gotten a news anchor job in a medium size city called Amity Park, which according to the aged and weathered sign, was a great place to live. Was it really that great if they had to both underline and italicize the word? To Wes the strangeness of the sign was a single for the dull dread that was to come from life in Amity Park.
It rained almost everyday in Amity Park, and when the sun decided to show itself the harsh winds kept everyone in jackets well past winter. The buildings were a mash up of white colonial paint with tall white columns, pointed Victorian roofs, and décor that looked like it belonged in the height of the eighties. All together it created a visual disaster of a town that seemed both lost in time and missing whatever soul it had once had. In short, Wes hated it here. He wanted to go back to Oklahoma where the sunset wasn’t obstructed by something every day, and back to where his friends were.
Worst of all was the house next to them. It was a three story townhouse with a second metal house (It was a large metal circular structure with satellite dishes and antennas on top, and random metal poles connecting it to the house below) on top, and a dead neon sign on the side that read Fenton Works. The whole building was abandoned and dilapidated with half the windows broken and the other half bored up.
And Wes didn’t believe in ghost, he thought the idea was stupid. The dead can’t come back and anyone who told you otherwise was trying to sell you something. But one day at school he heard some of the other students talking.
“So, Kwan are you in?” Dash, school bully, high school football star, and future used car salesman said.
“No way dude! I’m not about to spend my free night looking for Fenton’s Ghost,” Kwan, the only one on the football team who had enough smarts go to college, said.
“Aw, are you scared? Is the Kwan-ster scared of an old house?”
“I’m not scared. We just don’t know what those people were doing there. What if they left a science experiment out and it gives us all cancer?”
“You’re being ridiculous man, they probably took everything when they left.”
“You never know dude. I mean… their own son died because of what they were hiding in the basement. They probably didn’t want to carry that reminder with them when they left.”
“But doesn't that make you more curious to check it out? My Mom’s co-worker’s second cousin’s boyfriend said she saw strange lights in the house last halloween. Maybe the Fenton kid is still there as a ghost!”
“Well, you and the girls can go deal with that. I will be home with fresh food, a warm blanket, and the new COD game.”
Wes tuned the rest of their conversation out. Instead writing down what he had hearn in his notebook. He didn’t know someone had died there. He assumed it was some business that lost all their money or something. But that would explain why every night as he looked out his window he swore he felt someone staring back.
That night as the rainstorm turned nightmarish, he pushed his chair to the window in his room overlooking the old Fenton Works. If someone lived there he could have seen right into their bedroom. What kind of person lived there? He thought. Were they cool? Did they also like video editing and video games? Or were they like Dash and took sick pleasure in shoving peoples heads into the mystery meat specials. Wes was sure he could still smell it.
BOOM! Lighting passed between the houses, staining everything a blinding white. He ducked his head and shielded his eyes, but in the bright light there was someone across the alleyway, with neon green eyes watching him. No, observing him. No, they looked like they were trying to say something.
“Who…” The question sat on the tip of his tongue as the eyes faded into the clap of thunder.
A week later, Wes stood outside the Fenton Works on a gray cloudy evening, Dash and Kwan standing beside him. The muted tones of the sky turned the world around them into shades of muted gray and blues, except the sign on the front door. The orange No Trespassing sign stood out like a neon flame.
“Are you sure they are coming?” Kwan said. He looked nervous.
“Yes! Paulina and Star just passed the Nasty Burger, they should be here soon,” Dash said. “Hey Kid.”
“It’s Wes.”
“Yeah, whatever, are you sure you saw something here?”
“Yes, it was as clear as day, there was someone watching me with these neon green flashlight eyes,” Wes began.
“Well you better be right. If we don’t see anything I’ll pummel your ass to timbuktu and back. Got it?”
“Got it,” Wes said. He had only mentioned it to them because he didn’t want to go alone.
“Hey guys!” Paulina yelled. Her and Star ran up to meet them with a bag of goodies.
“What do you got babe?” Kwan said.
“My Mom used to go ghost hunting all the time with friends back in New York, so she let me borrow some of her stuff. We have an EVP, flashlights, motion dictators, and this radio the ghost can speak through,” Star said.
“A ghost is going to talk to us through that little thing?” Dask asked.
“Well, kind of, the ghost will flip through the radio stations and use whatever words are being broadcasted to speak to us. According to my Mom it can be a bit buggy at times.”
“I think it’s pretty cool,” Wes said.
“Thanks dude! I think it's amazing. I didn’t know she had all this stuff,” Star said.
“And what did you bring Paulina?” Kwan asked.
“My Mom made me bring a cross, a bottle of holy water, and a knife, just in case. God, she is so annoying,” Paulina pulled out a nine inch hunting knife as she said this.
“Holy Shit! Paulina’s packing!”
“Don’t shout it Kwan! Do you want to get the cops called on us?” Paulina shoved the knife back into her low rise jeans.
“Sorry.”
“On that note let’s get in there, Wes you go first,” Dash said.
“Me? Why me?”
“Cuz’, you saw the ghost first, now go before it tries to rain on us.” Dash pushed Wes forward.
The inside of the Fenton works was worse than the outside. A pipe had burst some time ago and the carpet smelled of sour mold. There were some lights from the windows but the rest of the home was dark. Their shoes squished on the carpet, and the standing water threatened to fill their shoes. Through the groans of disgust and fake puking the teenager found their way to the staircase. The downstairs had nothing in it besides a broken stove and a fridge that had been locked shut. Dash and Kwan tried to pull on it but the lock hadn’t rusted through yet.
The upstairs was picked clean as well. The fading sunlight showed spots on the wallpaper where pictures once hung proudly on display, but now there were brightly colored spots along the fading wall. Dash kicked open a door that was stuck and yelled for the rest. This room had everything, a bed, computer, desk, faded space posters, and action figures along the wall.
“Woah! Do you think this is his room?” Paulina asked.
“Whose room?” Star said.
“The Fenton’s son, I think his name was Danny? According to the news he was messing around in his parents lab and suffered a fatal accident,” Kwan said.
“And his parents left everything behind?” Wes said. He noticed a large window that looked directly into the building next door.
“Maybe it was too hard. I hear some parents won’t touch anything that belonged to their kids after they pass,” Paulina brushed the dust off the computer monitor.
“That is… understandable, but they didn’t even take his clothes with them. Apparently the kid wore briefs,” Dash was rummaging through the drawers.
“That’s fucked up, Danny didn’t deserve this,” Kwan said.
“Did you know him?” Wes said.
“Yeah, we were in the third grade together. I wasn’t really friends with him, he was friends with Tucker, the nerd kid. But he was nice. I remember he did his whole show and tell about space and what it took to become an astronaut,” Kwan said. “We didn’t share a fourth grade teacher, but the school had an assembly when he died.”
“That’s rough buddy,” Dash patted his friend on the back.
“It’s okay. I didn’t really know him too well, but I felt bad for his sister. She was in sixth grade and during the assembly all she did was cry.”
“I would too. That’s a lot for a kid to go through,” Star said. “But maybe you can talk to Danny one more time with the radio.” The radio turned on with a loud static noise, with garbled speech mixed in as the dial moved back and forth. “DANNY IF YOU ARE HERE PLEASE LET US KNOW!”
“Do you have to yell?” Paulina said. Wes could only hear her because he was standing next to her.
“WHAT DID YOU SAY PAULINA?”
“NOTHING!”
“OKAY!”
“DANNY IF YOU ARE STILL HERE, MAKE THE RADIO SAY YES!” Star yelled.
The radio flickered between a few channels “...zzzz…Now…Yes sir!...Home…”
“KWAN DID YOU HEAR THAT! DANNY IS HERE!”
“STAR THE RADIO IS TOO LOUD!”” Kwan yelled
“WHAT!”
“OH MY FUCKING GOD STAR!” Kwan grabbed the radio and turned down the volume. “Does it have to be that loud?”
“Yes, we have to make sure the ghost can hear it.”
“Star the ghost is dead, not deaf,” Dash said. “Here Wes grab the radio and let’s do it again.”
“Why me?”
“Because you saw the ghost, maybe it left some ghost trace on you that will make the radio work better.”
“I don’t think that’s how it works but whatever,” Wes took the radio from Kwan. “Hey Danny, are you here?”
The radio flickered, “zzz…YES sir you are getting …. Yes … hello…zzz”
“Omg did you hear it! He said yes! Quick, someone ask him another question!” Star began to jump with joy.
“Danny, how old are you?” Paulina asked.
“zzz…Now for the low price of nine, nine, nine, nine, nine, nine, nine, nine…zzz”
“Danny, how did you die?” Dash asked.
“zzz… Supernatural … GHOST! … Home … Man … zzz”
“What does that mean?” Dash said.
“I don’t know. Danny, can you try again, we don’t understand?” Paulina said.
“Zzz… Ghostly ghouls .. you are now entering … ghost! … Twilight Zone …”
“Did you guys understand that? Paulina said.
“Nope.”
“No.”
“Something about ghosts?”
“Nah. Try something else, like where did he die?” Wes said.
“Danny, where did you die?” Paulina asked the box once more.
“Zzz… deep down below … Dad’s workshop … she opened the basement door … AHHH! ..zzz”
“It sounds like it was in the basement?’ Wes said.
“I don’t wanna walk through that carpet again, it’s so gross.” Star said.
“You don't have much of a choice Star,” Dash said.
“Here Babe, I’ll carry you,” Kwan scooped her sup in his arms.
“Awww! Thank you Babe!”
Paulina looked to Dash. “What?” Dash said.
“Nothing,” Paulina rolled her eyes.
The basement smelled of rot and decay, and like Danny’s room it was filled with stuff. Parts of the room had a strange green glow to it. It wasn't bright enough to illuminate anything, but when Wes moved his flashlight he could see it was emitting some light.
“Okay Danny, what happened here?” Wes asked.
“Zzz.. Zone … just turn it on and … bright lights of the city … hole deep below…zzz”
“Did you turn one of your parents' experiments on?” Star asked, her arms wrapped around Kwan’s neck.
“Zzz.. yes.. Pain.. lights … AHHH!...zzz”
“Omg! Kwan did you hear that?”
“Yeah, poor Danny.”
“Danny, why haven’t you left yet?” Wes asked the box.
“Zzz … Mommy … Daddy … Jazz ha- … alone … zzz”
“Oh Danny,” Paulina sounded like she was about to start crying soon.
“Danny, your parents left. Why don’t you follow them?” Wes asked.
“Wes! You can’t just ask a ghost that?” Star said.
“Why not?”
“Ghosts are stuck where they die, Danny can’t leave.”
The radio box sprung to life once again, “zzz… no! … he’s stuck in quicksand … Mommy! …zzz”
“Well can we do anything?” Wes asked Star.
“We can help him pass on, usually you just have to find out what killed them or tell a relative some dark secret or something. My Mom was telling me that ghosts only stay behind when they have unfinished business.”
“Okay kid, what do you want?” Dash asked.
“Zzz… Mommy and Daddy … Jazz hands … Okay! Okay! Okay! … Love you! … zzz”
“Uhhh kid, we don't know where your parents are, can we do something else?” Dash said.
“Dash! Don’t be so mean,” Paulina shouted.
“What, it’s the truth, nobody knows where the Fentons moved to. Plus I heard that the Dad was thrown in prison for child endangerment anyways. We can’t bust him out of prison,”
The radio box flew out of Wes’s hands, the volume rising as the box did.
“zzz… Mommy! DADDY! MOMMY! DADDY! … zzz” Junk started flying around them, slamming against the walls and trying to slam against them.
“Oh shit! Run!” Dash shoved Wes out of the way and b-lined it to the door. Paulina grabbed Wes and they followed Kwan up the stairs. The floor rocking as they ran through the water and mold. Wes slammed the door shut behind them and kept running with the others into the night. He looked behind once to see a pair of eyes watching them.
39 notes
·
View notes
#i'm very pro danny accidentally adopts a whole bunch of talons previous installments
*
The next day, the body was back.
The green was gone from its eyes, but the awareness wasn't; it spent about an hour watching people go around outside Danny's apartment, which was new behavior. None of the corpses that shadowed him had shown any interest in garden-variety humans before. Now it sat at the window and watched families come home from school or head to their afternoon shifts.
That went into Danny's notes.
After that hour, it taught itself to flush the toilet repeatedly, rearranged the contents of Danny's half-assed linen closet (again) and then stood hovering over the safe where Danny had stashed the ectoplasm.
"...Okay," said Danny.
The dead body croaked. It was a new sound, but there was no context for it. Danny just kind of...wrote it down and hoped for the best.
The day after, Danny woke up at a very reasonable ten forty eight in the morning to find stray corpses feeding each other spoonfuls of ectoplasm in the kitchen.
At that point he kind of had to throw out the notes on how much each one was dosed with, because what the fuck.
"Really?!" Danny shouted, spooking the bodies into fleeing behind chairs and doors and back into his closet again. The only one that didn't flee was Danny's ringmaster corpse of the hour, of course. "You really couldn't wait??"
It stuck out a withered black tongue out at the mortician, who was, really, the victim in all of this. A victim to his parents' whims and a victim to the dead people who followed him around all the time.
This was how Danny found out that, when it doubt, the corpses could just tear through solid steel if they were motivated enough. The finger-marks were so deep and so embedded that they actually looked more like rough claws in the metal.
Great.
Danny ordered a new locking cage for the fridge on Prime and darted off to work. One of his regulars was on the table, though, so Danny just ended up doing what he would have at home— sewing up a gash in its neck and reattaching dead fingers back onto dead stumps.
On the third day, in which four of Danny's frequent fliers had learned from the first how to flush the toilet (and therefore raise the water bill immensely) Danny got a ring from a dark voice he (almost) recognized.
"Is he here?"
Danny squinted, jerking the phone further under his ear as he whipped up some scrambled eggs. The dead girl leaning over his shoulder leaned a little closer to watch the egg froth up. "Is who here? Who is this?"
"This is Batman. Is— the body requisitioned from your facility currently at your place of residence?"
Danny fully let go of the whisk. It landed haphazardly in the glass bowl he'd been stirring in. "What on Earth is a Batman?" he asked, incredulous.
"I visited your workplace previously."
Oh! "Yeah, the cop's friend. I remember now." Danny pulled the whisk out of the liquid eggs and held it out to the body. The unusually animate cadaver mostly prodded the whisk wires and paid no attention to him. "No one's here but me, though. Not that it's your business...?"
"And there are no non-living bodies currently in your apartment?"
Danny ignored the flushing noise in the other room. "I don't know, dude. They practically live in the walls at this point. Don't come over unless you have a warrant."
The call ended with a click.
His omelette turned out amazing, by the way. In case you were wondering.
On the fourth day, the ectoplasm was gone, because the corpses had apparently all taught each other how to lockpick the container in the fridge.
"Okay, some of that was meant to be my dinner. No more lotion at the funeral home now, okay? Now you all can be ashy forever. I'm so serious," Danny complained to the only visible dead person in the room.
The dead person held up a cracked egg. It was probably a gesture of peace, but now there was egg on his vinyl flooring to deal with. And. It wasn't exactly all that comforting in the end.
On the fifth day, Danny awoke to the sensation of a hand jamming itself through his neck until it punched into the mattress beneath him.
Fuck.
4K notes
·
View notes