Hello Darkness, You're Not My Friend

So we rode down to the river, where the toiling ghosts spring For their curses to be broken Aaron Kingston // 35 Fear of Darkness Handyman For Hire At Hill House

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glbins‌:

“ just laila, aaron. please. ” how many times must she remind him? ah well, at least he was a good worker. “ and you make a good point. i’m not here to knock any spirit attachments when it’s culture or religion related but when it comes to this house? it just makes me think that people would have better things to do than continue on with childhood stories of ghouls. ”

“My apologies. Forgive me, Laila,” he apologized sincerely although the likelihood of him ever following though were slim. He had been teased about it in the past— called ‘old fashioned’ by those who didn’t want to be rude, but still found him odd—  but his mother had ingrained such politeness into him and it wasn’t a habit he wasn’t going to change.

“Why do so many people seem to think that this place is haunted?” He looked around, taking in the house around them. “Sure, this place is old, and it needs a lot of work, but that doesn’t make it haunted.”  

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theprcdigal‌:

She could feel the creaks and groans of the house reverberating as if the cold and abandoned joints of it were finally waking up. Hill House had always felt cold. As if it was ready to crumble, held together like broken bones in a makeshift splint. It was only fitting that their broken family returned back to the place that had hammered into their lives with such a force that none of them had truly ever recovered. Pulling her leather gloves up tights around her wrist, out of nervous habit, she hesitantly stepped over the threshold. 

                                                          Just a house. 

It was nothing but brick, mortar, and some stone — yet everything down to the wallpaper felt sinister. Her composed gaze flitting over the house gave away none of the fear coiled tightly in her chest. Part of Astrid had feared that she would see her mother step out from the shadows at the top of the grand staircase. Whether it was the warm smile of her mother she feared, or secretly coveted, it was a sight she would sooner encounter in her dreams or a photo album.

“Hello?” Cringing at the sound of her voice echoing through the empty house, she quickly stormed past the foyer, towards the kitchen. “Seriously? I swear there is supposed to be a ridiculous amount of people working on fixing this shitshow — and, now I’m talking myself. Anyone around?”

The house and the surrounding property was a lot if Aaron was being honest. When a former boss of his had asked if Aaron had the time to work on a long term project that was willing to pay him well, he hadn’t expected this. True, even if he had known, he still would have taken the job because the prospect of steady work would have been enough, but in this moment it truly seemed like an insurmountable task. 

But, there was work to be done.  

He turned at the sound of someone angrily stomping through the house, their voice echoing through the empty rooms as whoever it was made their way toward him. 

“Are you looking for someone in particular?” he called back. “Ms. Laila is meeting with the renovation manager if you would like to speak to her.” 

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gldenbird‌:

“ but ghosts? my word, what a waste of time. ” 

“I don’t know about that, Ms. Laila. Some find comfort in the thought of spirits and honor them. Just because you may not believe in them doesn’t change the fact that spirits play a significant role in many cultures and religions.”    

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the wright siblings, plagued by tragedy & the owners of hill house (insp.)