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thcbelievers‌:

Well after it became apparent that the stranger had disappeared, completely, Beth was still desperately searching for them. It was absurd, the speed with which they’d fled. She knew she had just seen them there, and no amount of rationalizing could properly convince her otherwise. Her eyebrows furrowed as she took another step forward and rocked onto her tip-toes. Nope, they weren’t hiding behind the well-trimmed bushes of the house they’d been standing in front of. Beth turned to the other side of the road, but in both directions, the sidewalk was blissfully empty. Creepily empty, actually, was a better descriptor. It was four in the freaking afternoon, on a Friday, and no one was taking to the suburbs for a walk? No students were making their way home, backpack in tow? It didn’t make sense. Given the circumstances they’d just found themselves in, it was an odd detail to latch onto, but Beth latched nonetheless. Something was still wrong. She felt it, although she wouldn’t know how to describe the feeling. It felt like the tensest moment in a horror movie. Although their surroundings were completely calm, she felt inexplicably on edge.

That feeling did not subside when Willow spoke, although the very sound of her voice made Beth’s heart skip. She’d nearly forgotten that her sister was there, experiencing this alongside her. She blinked. “What was I thinking?” She repeated, incredulously. She wasn’t surprised that Willow would be hard-headed about this, but considering the number of novel feelings coursing through Beth, she was annoyed that this was what Willow chose to focus on. “What were you thinking, Will? I mean, were you going to just stand there and scare them off with your iPhone? You should have called for help, run, anything. You could have been hurt. Whoever that was, they meant business.” And that business is not over, she wanted to add, although she wasn’t sure why. A voice in her head - which sounded a lot like her voice - had simply provided the follow-up. But Beth bit her tongue. As intrigued as she was, Willow was her priority right now. Willow had been in trouble; and if something had happened, or if Beth had not shown up… it wasn’t an option.

She sighed and forced herself to ignore the creeping feeling of danger. Her eyes softened on her sister. “You didn’t have it handled, and I did have to run over,” she said, and though the words had an inherent edge, her tone was kind. She felt she didn’t need to state the obvious: you would have done the same for me. And it was true. And, in that reversed situation, Beth would have been angry with Willow in the aftermath, too. This was just something they shared, as sisters, something that would never change. “It doesn’t matter, anyway, because apparently you’ve been lifting and they learned their lesson. Were you going out, or can we go home?” Beth was exhilarated, but also more than a little rattled. Although she wouldn’t come out and say it, she wanted nothing more than to turn on their heels and walk home for a cheesy movie and popcorn. She silently willed her sister to accept, even if she had intended to meet a friend somewhere. It had been too long since they spent a Friday night just the two of them, anyway. Beth thought a nice horror movie would hit the spot.

But then, it felt like they were in a horror movie of their own, especially as Beth noticed, far behind Willow but advancing at an inhuman pace, the stranger. They were too far to properly identify but Beth knew it was them, just as she had known, somehow, they would return. Her smile faded and her eyes widened in the same beat as she grabbed Willow by the shoulders and yelled, “look out!” With a twist, she sent herself and Willow barreling into the grass between the sidewalk and the road. She squinted and awaited impact, but was instead met by a fast breeze that stirred the hair on her head. They’d missed. But they’re coming back. Beth did not have time to think. She grabbed Willow again and picked her up, stumbling, her arms behind her and folded over the girl’s frame in a defensive stance. “Whoever you are, stay the fuck back,” Beth yelled. She didn’t care who heard them. In fact, she’d become idly convinced that no one could hear them; it was as though the entire neighborhood had taken a vacation. No one was coming to save them. It was just her and Willow and them. Beth instinctively lowered her hand and placed it into Willow’s, her fingers shaking. The stranger ignored her veiled warning and walked purposefully in their direction. Without thinking, Beth flung her free hand forward in a universal sign of “stop” - but after a moment, for reasons she didn’t understand, she curled her fingers slightly, as though she was attempting to channel something, as people always did in the movies.

Scoffing at Beth’s response, Willow had to admit had a point, but she was only willing to admit that silently. “What was I supposed to say? Some creep was mumbling some weird language to me? Sounds like a real dangerous situation.” She drawled, knowing that sarcasm most likely the best option, but it beat admitting that she’d froze. She’d dealt with numerous people who tried to push the boundaries of personal space over the past few years, but none of those people had the same energy as the person she’d ran into that afternoon. The rest of the people had simply been creepy but ultimately unthreatening, when she’d been face to face with someone who made her blood run cold, she wasn’t sure what to do next – and she loathed that fact. She was meant to be an impenetrable ice queen, not someone who froze when placed into a new situation.

“Yeah, who knew extra mandatory gym time for the cheerleaders would actually pay off.” Once more humour didn’t particularly fit their current situation, but it was what she was comfortable with – and she needed something comfortable when she was still on edge. She wanted to get back to her normal, and that came with making light of anything that had ever happened to her – no matter how daunting the experience had been. And no matter that she was still completely confused as to how the stranger ended up so far away from them thanks to a simple shove. Shrugging at the question, she gestured vaguely in the direction of their home. “I was heading home.” Granted, she had been heading home to change and go straight back out – but her friends could live without her for one night. At that point, she wanted some time to process everything that had happened – and she couldn’t do that at some party, she was sure was going to be underwhelming anyway.

Squealing as she was pulled down towards the ground, she was just about to snap that she was pastels that was now going to have grass stains on them – when her eyes flickered in the direction that Beth was looking. “Are you freaking kidding me?” She huffed under her breath, before Beth was grabbing her once more. It was moments like this when she was glad that she happened to be born a twin. While she’d verbally deny that twin telepathy was real – it was just a plot point in media – but silently she was positive it was real. Beth had shown up out of thin air when she needed her one too many times for it to be coincidence, and Willow always had a sinking feeling when Beth needed someone – it worked for them, but she’d never dared voice it, not even to Beth for fear of being mocked.

Without thinking about it, or consciously realising she’d even done it, Willow’s hand shot out the same way her sister’s had – and while her head was screaming at her to pay attention to the situation, she felt her eyes flutter shut, mentally focusing on one thing – keeping Beth safe. Tightening her grip on Beth’s hand, she opened her eyes, focusing her now icy glare on the stranger in a nonverbal warning to stay the hell away from her sister. “She said stay back.” Her tone was the opposite of Beth’s – where her sister had yelled, Willow’s words came out cold and quieter, before something said to raise their still joined hands and channel her thoughts into keeping the stranger away from them.

The next few seconds were a blur to her, out of nowhere a line of fire seemed to appear between them and the stranger – a line of fire that was directly in front of their hands, giving them just enough coverage. “What… the… hell…” The danger the stranger posed still loomed in the back of her mind, but at that present moment, her focus was on the fire that had appeared out of nowhere in just the right spot. The same way she’d shoved in just the right spot to give them some distance earlier. Willow wasn’t a believer in luck, but even if she was, there wasn’t a chance that this was simple luck. Something else had to be happening, and that was somehow the worst thing about the day. Tilting her head, she dragged her hand further away from her body, mesmerized watching the fire seemingly following her hand movements. Moving it around a few more times to test her theory, she glanced towards her twin wanting some assurance that she hadn’t slipped into a dream. “Are you… seeing this?” She whispered, as if the stranger on the other side of the flames wasn’t equally aware of what was happening.

#willow:bethany #p:willow

thcbelievers‌:

Clearly, the girl was being purposefully obtuse. This - cobwebs, dingy furniture, dust, decay, rot, for god’s sake - this, Chelsea’s aesthetic? One glance should have been enough to convince the stranger that Chelsea’s aesthetic included a lot more nail polish and a lot less… death and general grossness. This place reminded her of those weirdos who got high in the bathroom during lunch and posted pictures of roadkill on Instagram. Maybe Willow Waltermire’s sister, whatshername, would spend her Friday evenings here of choice, but such was certainly not the case for Chelsea Rhodes. The very suggestion made her skin crawl (or maybe that was the lingering notion that something had led her here). “You think I live here,” she deadpanned, her head lolling to the side with a heavy level of intended derision. “I can’t help it if you act like a ten-year old. That’s a you problem.” There was no great wit in her words, but Chelsea didn’t care; she was annoyed, and never one to let a remark made in her direction slide through without parry. She glowered at the girl before her, slipping her cracked phone into her back pocket and advancing further forward to get a better look at her.

“That’s funny - you don’t look hurt. Not that I’m surprised you can’t handle yourself for shit. That, or you’re a liar.” Chelsea hadn’t noticed the girl limping as she entered the house, although truthfully, she’d been preoccupied at that particular moment of truth. But she was willing to bet the girl was pulling excuses out of her ass. Why? Contrary to Chelsea’s retorts, the other didn’t strike her as the morbid death-loving sort. She was a little too clean and high-and-mighty looking. Something like hope stirred inside of Chelsea; was it possible the same invisible force convincing her to enter the house had acted upon the other? She already disliked her, she was downright annoying, but regardless, company would suggest she wasn’t going completely crazy. Maybe the place was letting out some sort of psychosomatic signal… or something. Chelsea didn’t know enough about that kind of shit to make a proper diagnosis, but maybe, just maybe, there was a sane reason why she’d walked so willingly into the haunted armpit of town. But of course, she couldn’t share her theory with Ms. Drama; in all likelihood, the girl would completely dismiss her and call her crazy. Maybe she was crazy. Chelsea shivered and uncrossed her arms with a scowl.

“My friends are assholes and decided they’d prank me by stealing my phone and hiding it here,” she said, thinking on her feet. The answer was inspired by her continuing annoyance toward Olivia (although partially forgotten in the heat of the moment, it still lied in wait, ready to become her favorite distraction once again). “Not that that’s something you’d understand - friends, you know? People who actually like you? You know, I think you’re full of crap and just felt like spending the night in creep-town. Stop bullshitting me and tell me why you’re really here.” It was hypocritical, and Chelsea understood that, in a faraway sense, but protecting her own reputation was paramount to this interaction. More important, even, than sussing out the particulars of their unorthodox meeting. She had taken a final step forward and, through a small crack in the ceiling, Chelsea had her first proper look at the girl before her. She furrowed her eyebrows. God, she knew this girl. She knew that she knew her, but the ‘where’ of it all was lost on her, until she quirked her mouth in a very specific way and it hit Chelsea like a ton of bricks. “You’re that girl from the play,” she said, abruptly. “The one - whatever it was called - yeah, holy shit, I know you!”

Chelsea remembered it vividly now. Her older sister had needed to attend two plays that semester for course credit, and she’d dragged Chelsea along for one of the two times. The girl now standing before her had played the lead. Chelsea had paid zero attention and couldn’t think of the play’s name, even, but she knew she was right about this. She scoffed after a moment. “No wonder you’re so freaking dramatic.” Her comparison to the stoners at her high school dissolved. Now, she pictured the girl like one of the drama nerds that thought they were god’s gift to the earth. It fit her picture of the other nicely.

“You look like you were walking home from school – so maybe this was the destination you always had in mind.” She replied as high and mightily as she could. Though a quick glance at her watch made her brows furrow for two reasons. One – from what she knew of the town, unless the girl was secretly the Flash, there was no way she should have gotten from the school to the house in the time that had passed. Two – there was no way Louise herself should have gotten to the house in the same time frame. She certainly wasn’t a good runner, if she didn’t need to stay fit to get through performances, she’d avoid the sport like the plague.

Tuning out the girl by accident, she tuned back in when the other questioned her story. “Sweetheart, I have better things to do than lie to a toddler.” She spoke, adopting the same overly sweet tone she used with her cousins, who were literal toddlers. Being patronized was something she’d always hated in high school, and something said the same would be true for the girl in front of her – which was exactly her reason for being patronizing. The girl was tap-dancing on Louise’s last nerve, the least she deserved was to be annoyed just a smidgen. “You should invest in better friends if that’s true kid.” Which was the first semi-nice words that had escaped from her lips since their conversation began. She may have been willing to partake in some light mocking of the other, but if her friends were truly that crappy, the other should drop them and search out people who knew how to actually be a friend.

“I told you why I’m here.” She sighed, mentally drained from the entire experience. “I was looking for somewhere to quiet to practice, before I knew it I ended up here and tripped outside. Do you need me to write it down for you?” Granted, the story sounded strange to her, but what else was she going to say? There was no point lying, and she sure as hell wasn’t about to admit she felt like she had to come into the house. That revelation could live solely in her mind forever as long as she was concerned. Her annoyance evaporated slightly at the mention of ‘the play’. “I’ve been in every college production since Freshman year, yes. They can appreciate talent.” Something she had definitely bragged about over the years – but she liked to think it was all in good fun. There were no small parts in plays, only small actors – but that didn’t mean she couldn’t take pride in working her ass off to get lead roles. It wasn’t as if she’d picked her major because she thought it would be easy, the way some of her classmates had done. When it came to more typically academic subjects, Louise could admit she wasn’t always the most attentive student, but she knocked it out of the park when she actually cared about a subject – she put her all into it, that way even if it didn’t go her way, she could live knowing she did her best.

She was about to tell the girl that she didn’t need to tell her how fantastic she was, because Louise already knew, when her train of thought was diverted at the smell of smoke. “Oh holy crap!” The exclamation left her a little too loudly, once she took her gaze off Chelsea and glanced around the room, her eyes focusing on a fire that appeared out of nowhere. And how does a fire just start in the middle of a room with absolutely nothing near it? Acting on instinct, she pushed Chelsea towards the door – the kid may have been annoying, but she was just a kid which meant she had to get the hell out first. “Door!” She shouted, despite knowing the other probably wouldn’t need to be told what to do, though instead of following suit, she began scanning the room – hoping to find a fire extinguisher or a fire blanket, hell even a hose would do at that point to stop the fire. There was no way a fire engine would make it out on time to help them, if it was rapidly growing. Would they even know to check an abandoned building until someone in town noticed the smoke and called them? And who knew how long that would take?

#louise:chelsea #p:louise

thcbelievers‌:

Beth wasn’t a fool, and she wasn’t unfamiliar with Willow’s body language. It was the reason she’d rushed over in the first place. The hunch of the girl’s shoulders, the uneven posture, the way she placed her phone between herself and the stranger like a sword; all of her movements had indicated to Beth, even from afar, that her sister sensed danger. Her intimate knowledge of Willow’s emotions allowed her to also ascertain that now, in lieu of relief, she was feeling frustration. That wasn’t surprising - Willow had always been unbelievably stubborn - but Beth knew that she’d likely feel the same way, had the situation occurred in exact reverse. Without knowing how Willow had managed to piss off this mysterious, dangerous person before them, Beth could envision herself becoming irritated if Willow placed herself in harm’s way for her benefit. But because she knew that much, she also knew that, in this parallel situation, Willow would have stepped beside her and slid her hand into her’s just the same as Beth had; they were sisters, they were friends, against all odds. It was what they would always do.

But her familiarity with the situation dissolved as soon as Willow had stepped forward again. Beth blinked and the stranger was all of nine or ten feet away, the sidewalk now stretching readily before them, as if to accentuate the sheer strength of Willow’s shove. Beth’s mouth fell open, and her sister’s question repeated in her own mind: had she helped? Without thought, Beth tightened her grip on Willow’s hand and shot a wide-eyed look in the girl’s direction. She knew the immediate answer that came to her mind, but she ignored it in favor of the more believable. She must have somehow reached forward alongside her in some primal impulse. It wasn’t impossible, but even as the thought crossed her mind, Beth knew it simply had not been the case. Her hand was still half-limp at her side, raised, but only in defense. There was no time to think about it. “I… don’t know,” she said, finally, nothing more than a quiet mutter passed between the two of them. The third presence on the street could not have heard, even if they were still standing directly before them. As it were, they were still a good five large paces from them, though no longer sprawled on the ground. They had righted themselves, shakily, and to Beth’s surprise she saw a lopsided smile on the stranger’s face.

“Okay, that’s enough,” she called. Beth took a small step forward and held Willow’s hand firmly in hers, hoping the girl would take the message and stay a step behind her. In fact, she would ignore any protest or attempt to correct their positions. She was freaked out, sure, but this asshole seemed to have taken a keen interest in Willow, which provided Beth an excuse to take the more aggressive position here. Besides, they could fight about it later (or, rather, discuss it, as Beth had more than a fair share of questions already). “Leave us alone or we’re calling the cops. My sister already has the number up. One step and she’ll dial.” Beth glanced behind herself, to Willow, and nodded in a silent acknowledgment of the threat. Of course, she doubted Willow had already pulled up 9-1-1 on her phone, but honesty was hardly an objective in their current situation. When Beth glanced back to the space before them she inhaled sharply.

They were gone.

“What the actual fuck,” Beth whispered, less a question and more an exclamation. She took a messy step backward and glanced around, her fingers still threaded through Willow’s. She didn’t know what was going on - not even a little - but she knew the only thing that made her feel safe was the physical connection between herself and her sister. She wouldn’t be ridding herself of that connection anytime soon. “Did you see where they went?” Beth turned her head to the side and considered Willow, simultaneously making sure the other hadn’t sustained any injuries before she arrived. She wanted to ask, next, they were just there, weren’t they? but the absurdity of the question stopped her short. Of course they were there - she’d seen them with her very eyes, hadn’t she? She was a little too old and much too sober to be doubting her very reality.

Beth’s wide-eyed look did nothing to dissuade the fear coursing through Willow, if anything it only intensified it. If her sister had seemed unfazed, then Willow could make believe that everything was perfectly fine – that the situation was simply creepy and not treacherous. Noticing the stranger move once more, Willow’s grip tightened on Beth’s hand, quickly surveying their surroundings, trying to deduce the quickest way for them to get the hell away from the situation. Glancing back just in time to see the lopsided smile on the stranger’s face, the anger within her intensified once more, as she grew irrationally angry that whoever the stranger was, looked as though they were playing a game with the two of them. A game that the twins were definitely losing. Part of her wanted to snap that now was not the time not to know something, but she quickly bit down on her tongue to stop the words coming out. They could bicker over semantics later, for now, they had bigger issues to deal with.

Under normal circumstances, Willow would have rolled her eyes and shoved Beth behind her, but they couldn’t focus their attention on each other – not at that moment. Luckily, they’d been blessed with ‘twin powers’ as Willow liked to call them, and they’d always been able to easily read each other, whether they liked it or not, which meant she could place how Beth was feeling and what her next move was, without them ever having to vocalise it. “Yeah, see?” She scoffed, flashing her phone towards the stranger too quickly for them to notice that no number was dialled in to the phone. Keeping her eyes on the stranger, she unlocked her phone and belatedly dialled 9-1-1 finger hovering over the call button just in case. Glancing down to make certain she’d put the right number in, her attention was brought back to Beth as her sister spoke once again.

“What the actual fuck is the general feeling yes.” She replied, her tone more confused than anything else – before her sister asked if she noticed where the stranger went. Finally letting her eyes drift over to where the stranger was and noting their absence, her head snapped around, knowing that they should still have been able to see the stranger, unless they could vanish into thin air. Although given the fact they’d also seemed to appear out of thin air, she couldn’t brush away the idea like she normally would.

Once she was certain that the coast was clear, she stepped back and brushed her hand over her outfit, as if trying to brush off the entire situation. “What were thinking?” She sighed, not having it in her to sound as angry as she wanted to. From the sudden appearance of the stranger, to the entire confrontation, to the stranger disappearing – it seemed as though her mind was incapable of processing anything in that moment. She may have been grateful to her sister for showing up when she did, she was just simultaneously pissed about it. If something happened to her, she’d find a way to get over it – she was Willow freaking Waltermire, and nothing got past her hard exterior. What she couldn’t deal was something happening to Beth.

She could still remember in vivid detail when they were in kindergarten and someone had pushed her over, and she got up and skipped over to her friends – cut to a few minutes later and the person who had pushed her decided to shove Beth next. Of course Willow had no other choice but to storm up to their classmate, place two hands on their chest and shove with every inch of strength she could. Then she’d obviously had no choice but to lie and say he’d simply fallen over when he complained to their teacher – she wasn’t about to get in trouble because some idiot messed with Beth. Or the time last month when one of their male classmates had made a derogatory comment about Beth in her earshot, so she retaliated by a well placed knee to something sensitive and a comment about how he wished Beth would look his way. It wasn’t her finest moment, but it was easier to hide than punching him in the face, which had been her first instinct.

“That person was such a creep, they showed up out of nowhere and… well you seen what happened. But I had it handled, you didn’t have to run over.”

#p:willow #willow:bethany

thcbelievers‌:

Although it was better than the alternative, the lack of immediate response to her verbal loss and confusion unnerved Chelsea. It was easier to figure that she’d shown up here for some earthly, logical reason; she’d subconsciously heard some assholes messing around inside, or maybe a group of lost kids had somehow flagged her attention (although, perhaps intuition was a better word for the inexplicable longing to travel further inside; the thought gave Chelsea the creeps). She felt an overwhelming need to normalize the situation. There was no scenario that saw her, Chelsea Beatrice Rhodes, wandering aimlessly about the haunted Coombs House in her free time. It just didn’t happen. She reflexively raised her phone in preparation to take a picture - to document the walls, maybe, or prove to herself this was happening at all, as insane as that sounded - but was interrupted by a dull thud! and a faraway pain at her shoulder, followed by a bout of horrific screaming that had Chelsea all but throwing her phone across the room. It was temporarily forgotten as she rounded around and took a staggering step away from the banshee that clearly frequented the place. She hardly registered that she’d screamed, too, a quick and terrified sound that betrayed how messed up this whole situation was to her.

‘The Banshee’ turned out to be much shorter than she’d expected, and a little less translucent than Chelsea had anticipated. Whether that was a plus remained to be seen as blood rushed to Chelsea’s face and her temper flared in response to the embarrassment. “Oh, excuse me, I didn’t realize the place was occupied.” She felt chafed under the attention. Here she was, talking to a stranger - and a complete freak, apparently, since the girl just so happened to be spending her free time in the creepiest place known to man - and feeling the uncomfortable need to explain herself. Well, there was no explanation, was there? She reverted to her last resort: retaliation. “And you look a little too old to be assaulting people - oh, or should I say assaulting ghosts? What are you, eleven?” It was much easier to feel brave and incredulous now that she was in company. Her paranormal fears were belayed, for the moment, at least, and her emotional focus had shifted. Who was this girl, anyway? And what right did she have to be questioning her? With every internal question, Chelsea became more indignant.

“Anyway, I have no freaking clue who you are, so I definitely don’t have to explain myself to you.” Chelsea crossed her arms and tilted her head to the side, visibly sizing the other up with her eyes. There were plenty of freshmen at school who would wither under such a glance. “For all I know this is your typical Friday afternoon. Weirdo, much?” She completed her routine with a quick roll of her eyes. The best plan of attack was to deny her presence as abnormal in the least. She was so utterly convincing, in fact, that Chelsea herself began to dismiss the absurdity of her arrival. Who the hell cared if she’d accidentally stumbled upon the Coombs House? She’d lost her way. People did it all the time, especially when they were distracted. Just the other day she’d watched a documentary on strange human feats. Mothers could lift cars when their children were trapped beneath, so who’s to say they couldn’t walk a few miles in a few minutes? The alternative was impossible, anyway, so the matter was basically settled. She was so assuaged of suspicion that Chelsea’s priorities shifted back to the real world. “Shit, my phone!”

She shot a glare in the girl’s direction and stomped to the far corner of the room, further away from the door. Another chill crawled down her spine, and she ignored it ferociously. Chelsea screwed up her face before squatting and retrieving her phone with one hand. The sight that met her there only worsened her mood. “Great, and now my screen’s cracked,” she complained, dramatically, loud enough for the intruder to hear. She pulled herself back to her full height and advanced back upon the girl. “You know, I should really have you pay for this. It’s only a few generations old, and now I basically need a new one.” Chelsea could hear the sheer absurdity of her words, but she didn’t care. She wanted this girl to apologize, or to look apologetic, even, hell, Chelsea wasn’t picky. She just wanted someone to suck up to her. But there was another desire there, too, one that she couldn’t place so easily. It certainly wasn’t equally shallow, which made its satiation infinitely more difficult. She paused before continuing, with a suspiciously raised eyebrow, slowly, “… seriously, what are you even doing here?” She had intended the question to emphasize the “here,” but somewhere between her brain and her mouth, she’d stressed the “you.” The girl looked vaguely familiar, but her curiosity went deeper than that, and Chelsea couldn’t even begin to place why.

Oh great, not only was she dealing with a teenager who clearly was a little strange for coming into the house, they also happened to be stroppy – just what she needed on a day where she was already irritated. All she’d wanted was somewhere to practice, not be stuck dealing with someone throwing a tantrum. Rolling her eyes, and sighing more than a little patronizingly, Louise shook her head, looking in distaste at the younger girl. “I’m terribly sorry, but I’m certain I do not owe an explanation to someone immature enough to bring up the ‘how old are you’ argument. Very unoriginal, almost disappointing.” Her tone was almost bored, primarily because she’d heard the same argument one too many times when she had been in high school. Hell, she’d used it one too many times when she’d been in school – but that didn’t mean she was about to admit it to the girl in front of her.

Looking the other girl up and down, her tone transforming into one of amusement, she gestured towards the other girl and then to the room around them. “You’re the one who doesn’t seem creeped out, for all I know you live here – and decaying furniture is just your weird aesthetic.” Of course, it was obvious nobody actually lived in the house. Not when it was basically written on the walls that the house had been left empty for years, and anyone who did inhabit it, would surely end up ill sooner than later – but once more, she didn’t have to make logical comments, only match the bitchiness that she was perceiving coming from the other. Louise knew her faults, and one of them was lack of patience, and the girl was all but stomping on the last bit of patience she had within her.

Promptly bursting into laughter at the girl’s complaining, she put on her best sugary-sweet tone, knowing it was bound to only annoy the girl, she just happened not to care. “Hate to burst your bubble ghostbuster, but I am in no way paying for phone. Not my fault you can’t look after your belongings. You’re just going to have to tell your parents about your poor life skills, and beg for a new one.” Something that was more than a little hypocritical, coming from the girl who’d literally had to call her parent’s a week into freshman year when she almost burnt down her dorm building after she put a can in the microwave – but her’s had been an honest mistake, and the girl seemed to be complaining about nothing of important. Everyone had to deal with a cracked screen at some point, and the other was just going to have to get over it and pay herself, because Louise was entirely done with the situation, and didn’t feel like faking nice.

“Again… Not that I owe you an explanation, but I happened to trip outside and needed somewhere to make sure there was no serious injuries – some of us are busy planning our lives, and not just worrying about math class.” Something she was entirely grateful for, nobody could pay her to take math again – which was why she’d brought it up, in some vain hope the other hated it as much as she did, and wouldn’t thank her for the reminder that it existed. And granted, she hadn’t been completely honest, but that wasn’t her fault. Nobody was ever going to understand that she’d felt drawn to the house. As though she had to step inside, despite every part of her hating the idea. She couldn’t understand the pull she had towards the house, and she certainly wasn’t going to share that factoid with the girl in front of her. “If you’re demanding answers, I’ll return the favour, exactly why are you here?”

#p:louise #louise:chelsea

thcbelievers‌:

She’d had no purpose or destination in mind when she set out – she hardly ever did – but as was her wont, Beth quickly turned the corner two blocks from her house, which brought her safely outside her parents’ collective lines of sight. Like clockwork, she fished a crisp cigarette from the crossbody around her shoulders, followed by a chipped pink lighter. It was actually her mother’s lighter (Beth didn’t love pink), but its absence had never been noticed. Most likely, neither of her parents would ever expect their perfect daughters to do anything that required a lighter. Beth smiled to herself as she slipped the crisp cigarette between her lips and thought of the absolute scandal that would ensue if either of the Waltermire parents caught wind of their daughters’ goings-on. The spark of the lighter caught in the wind and she inhaled deeply.

It would have been all-too-easy for one of them to spot her like this, be it on an innocent Target run or a walk of their own, but Beth wasn’t too concerned. In her own way, she almost looked forward to the inevitable confrontation of bad behavior. Acting out had its own thrill for her, but there was very little fun with no risk involved. Maybe that was one of the reasons she enjoyed her leisurely strolls through the neighborhood; she was literally airing her teenage rebellion out to the world and daring the world to question her for it. The world rarely did.

But then, the world had its own set of surprises. Beth slowed and squinted ahead of herself as she spotted a familiar blonde-headed figure at the end of the block. Usually, she might have crossed the street and let Willow go about her own business – they didn’t like each other’s friends, and there was no reason for Beth to get pissed at one of her sister’s annoying charges – but there was something about the girls’ hunched stance that rang alarm bells in her head. Beth’s eyes flitted to the figure before Willow. The stranger’s stance reminded her of the boring nature videos they were forced to watch in Biology; it reminded her of a cat about to pounce. Before she had properly thought the action through, Beth started to jog, tossing the still-lit cigarette clumsily to her side.

“Hey, asshole, read up on personal space,” Beth called from afar. As she approached the other’s words filled her ears. They were of a foreign language – Latin, maybe? – certainly not one that the boring suburbs had heard much from. Even Beth felt a chill of apprehension pass her frame, but just as quickly as it came, a sense of intrigue arrived. What the hell did someone like that want from Willow, of all people? “Hey!” She repeated, as she broke out into an all-out run for the last few yards. “I said to back. The hell. Away from her!” Better judgement be damned, Beth put all of her weight behind a sturdy shove at the stranger’s back. They stumbled forward but caught themselves on their palm. Just like that, they were whipping back around. “Jesus,” Beth muttered, as she caught the intensity of the stranger’s stare. She glanced toward her sister, eyebrows furrowed and eyes communicating what she hoped was a clear question: what did you get yourself into? But instead she asked, lowly, “are you okay?” As she spoke, the stranger rose again, and Beth instinctively reached for Willow’s hand, taking a sizeable step back. So much for her casual display of rebellious smoking. This felt different. This felt real.

With blonde hair, blue eyes and a penchant for wearing pastel clothes – the adults around town seemed to think that Willow was a perfect angel, a persona she was happy to keep up around them. The teens around town however, would only call her an angel if hell happened to precede it. She could make it seem as though she cared about everyone and would do whatever she could to help in any situation, but in all honesty, she could count the people she truly cared for on one hand – and Beth topped that list.

Not that it was surprising, Beth had literally been by her side from the moment they were born. When they were younger, people seemed to try and push them into being two halves of a whole – it was almost as if people heard ‘twins’ and immediately thought ‘clones’, and they definitely didn’t fit that bill. They’d grown into two very different people, to the point where it seemed like they wouldn’t get along if they weren’t related. As it was, despite their differences they were still close and nobody could deny the love they had for each. Whoever did make the inane mistake of insulting their twin, quickly learnt that they had just made the worst move possible. Given that Beth was the most important person in Willow’s world, she should have been relieved to see her sister – instead she was overcome with resentment. Not that Beth had tried to help her out, but that she’d put herself into the same strange and borderline dangerous situation Willow had stumbled into.

“’m fine.” She muttered at the question, choosing not to focus on the look on her sisters face. If anyone else had asked, Willow would have snapped and told them to mind their own business and that she was perfectly capable of dealing with any situation alone. Beth on the other hand was one of two people she’d ever been comfortable dropping her ice queen act around, and she didn’t have the energy at that moment to keep up her impenetrable attitude, not when her energy was solely focused on keeping the stranger as far away from Beth as humanly possible.

Feeling her sister’s hand take her own, Willow’s attention was briefly taken away from the situation unfolding around them and brought to their joint hands. It wasn’t by any means the first time they’d held hands, when they were younger they would do it more often than not as the easiest way for their parents to make sure they stuck together, but this was different, this felt different. In the moment their hands joined, it almost felt like a wave of courage hit her – as if she could do anything as long as Beth was beside her. Noticing a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye, she slipped right back into ice queen mode as the stranger practically lunged towards Beth this time.

“Don’t you freaking dare!” The words came out screeched, and while logic said to let go off Beth’s hands to have both hands free to protect herself and her sister, something in the back of her mind told her to tighten the grip, which for some reason unknown to her was exactly what she done. Using her free hand to give what was supposed to be a warning shove at the stranger, they stumbled back – a little too far for the effort she put in. They’d somehow ended up feet away from them – something she knew she wasn’t capable off even if she’d put all of her strength behind the push. Something nobody should have been capable of. “Did you… Help?” She made no effort to hide the scepticism in her voice, because she knew even if Beth had helped someone, even their combined strength shouldn’t have pushed someone so far away from them

#p:willow #willow:bethany

thcbelievers‌:

Chelsea’s mood had gone from chipper to sour in the span of five minutes. Five minutes ago, she had been free; it was a Friday, the Friday of a long weekend, no less, and she had plans to go to Savannah Ackles’ raging house party that night. Chelsea hated Savannah, of course, but Chelsea’s friend and Savannah’s frenemy, Olivia, had recently learned that Savannah’s boyfriend was - in Olivia’s odd choice of words - “stepping out on her.” That meant Chelsea had the upper hand, and could revel in Savannah’s snotty behavior, knowing she had the full ability to dash her good mood as soon as she so chose (and, knowing Chelsea, she likely would do just that). But just five minutes later, Chelsea found herself reading a short, apologetic text from Olivia: sorry! tyler wants to stay over tonight! can’t turn that down lol ;). She groaned at the text and felt herself descend into utter annoyance. Now she was three hours out from the best night of the week with nothing to do, since she couldn’t very well turn up at Savannah’s house without a good excuse. God, she hated people. And she was tired of re-watching Legally Blonde in her room.

She could be foul when she didn’t get her way, and it annoyed her further that Olivia seemed to think it was no big deal. Chelsea shot her a quick: you’re dead to me, bitch, and figured that Olivia could figure out for herself how serious a threat it was. For the moment, Chelsea wasn’t sure herself how serious it was. More likely than not she’d turn up Monday morning having forgotten all about it, but as of right now, it was a serious, unforgiveable betrayal.

She was so wrapped up in the nuisance that she didn’t realize she was standing in front of the Old Coombs House until it was too late. Her nose nearly smacked into the rotting wood of the front door; luckily, she glanced up from her phone quickly enough to stagger safely backward with a disgusted, “oh my freaking god.” Within seconds a chill took her. Chelsea’s hair stood on end, and she took a particularly long time to swallow. How the fuck had she ended up here? She’d been walking home from school - a straight shot, one that she’d walked countless times - and the Old Coombs House was a solid six miles out. Her eyes darted to the time in the corner of her phone’s screen. 4:45. Dance practice had only been out for fifteen minutes. It was literally impossible for her to have traversed that distance on foot in that time.

As if to mock her, the house groaned and shifted under its own weight. Chelsea was so confused by the entire ordeal that she’d yet to back away, run away, as she should have, as a sane girl would. Everyone in town knew this place was crazy freaky weird. Chelsea didn’t believe in ghosts, but that fact was easier verified when she was sitting in her bedroom, playing the part of the impenetrable cool girl. Now she felt like a five year-old again. The only difference was the unshakable desire to move deeper into the house. Half-horrified at her herself, Chelsea stepped slowly back to the front step. She cautiously opened the door and nearly skipped inside, if only to shake her hand of the mildew that was certainly accumulating on the doorknob. “Hello?” She asked, stupidly, as if anyone were there or would be able to hear her in the first place. She’d momentarily forgotten the absurdity of her being there, and, for reasons she still couldn’t explain, she stepped further into the old house, eyes drifting cautiously about the creepy decor.

Louise loved her roommate, she truly did, that fact however did not negate the overwhelming irritation she felt towards her roommate. She understood that some people needed silence to study efficiently, what she didn’t understand was why someone who needed perfect silence to study, would agree to sharing a room with a musical theatre major. It wasn’t as though Louise hid what she studied, if anything she had a tendency to bring it up unprompted – yet it was still Louise who had been forced to leave the comfort of the dorm room to find somewhere else to practice. She’d been so focused on mentally calming herself down and repressing the urge to storm back to her room and demand her friend leave instead, that she’d been walking with no destination in mind.

It wasn’t until her foot caught on a tree branch causing her to stumble, thankfully catching herself before she hit the ground, that it registered she’d gone a little further than she probably should have. Her aim had been to find somewhere quiet and relaxed to practice her solo numbers, but somehow ending up standing in front of Old Coombs House made her feel like she’d taken it one step too far. Granted, she’d never set foot inside the old house, but that was entirely by design. She’d bet everything she had that nobody who valued their life would willingly step foot inside the decrepit house, not when there were so many horror stories floating around town that involved the old home.

The home looked as if it should no longer be standing, it had been vacant for so long that Louise wasn’t entirely sure why they didn’t just knock it down and build a new house on the land. A house that wouldn’t give the town’s younger residents nightmares after they saw it for the first time. A house that wouldn’t make even the most sceptical adults in town keep a wide berth, just in case.

Her mind was screaming at her to walk away, to go back to college and practice when her roommate went out for dinner. To go to her favourite restaurant and order the best dessert to cheer herself up. To do anything, but stand in front of the house that looked as though it was straight out of a horror movie. Instead of spinning on her heel and sprinting towards a less unsettling place, Louise found herself walking forwards towards the old door – suddenly overcome with a morbid sense of curiosity that she couldn’t shake off.

With more than a little apprehension coursing through her, Louise placed her hand on the door pushing it open, wincing at how disgusting the door frame felt against her palm. Instantly reaching for her backpack, or more precisely the small hand sanitizer she kept inside the bag, her fingers had just grazed the bottle when she felt an icy chill take over her body at the sound of a voice. ‘I freaking knew it was haunted!’ was the only thought coursing through her mind as her hand finally clasped around the small bottle, promptly throwing it towards the direction the noise had come from. “Whoever the hell you are, I am not being haunted today so you can go find some other poor sap to possess!” She exclaimed, doing her best impression of an overzealous acting student who went a little over the top. Though who could blame her? It wasn’t everyday you were confronted by a ghost residing in the town’s creepiest home.

Once more despite wanting to run away, she instead walked towards where the noise had come from, instantly being overcome with embarrassment as instead of being met by a corporeal form – she found herself standing in front of what looked like a completely average teenager. “What the hell are you doing here?” She scoffed, momentarily forgetting that while she would normally judge whoever willingly stepped foot inside the house, she was currently one of those people who had willingly let herself in to the home. "You look a little old to be one of those kids who enter on a dare."

#p:louise #louise:chelsea

Growing up in the same town her entire life, meant that she could navigate the streets on autopilot – which to her meant that she didn’t need to pay too much attention to the world around her. As always her attention was firmly on her phone and replying to whoever she happened to think deserved her time that day. Despite what seemed to be popular opinion, Willow wasn’t stupid – she knew full well that most of her ‘friends’ would be the first to stab her in the back, she simply didn’t care about that, because she’d do the exact same to them. Nobody got to the top by playing nice, even if they did have to fake pleasantries every so often. What she did know however, was that missing out on the gossip they all shared over group texts was almost a sin, she had to be the first to know everything, and that took precedence over paying attention to where she was walking.

Rounding a street corner, she saw a flash out of the corner of her eye, causing her to glance as inconspicuously as possible over her shoulder. Noticing someone walking a little too close for her liking, she ignored the sudden pit in her stomach, choosing to step to the side of the sidewalk to let them past – mentally deciding that they just lacked patience and temporarily forgot that personal space was a thing. Almost instantly, her attention flickered back to her phone, before freezing when she noticed that the person behind her had paused when she did.

Refusing to let any form of weakness show, she slipped effortlessly into her ice queen persona, lifting herself to her full height before pinning her gaze on the other person. “Can I help you?” It was a touch too bitchy considering she wasn’t entirely sure what was happening, that was half her point however, to make them go on their merry way and she could make the rest of her own journey. Most people seemed to simply roll their eyes at her, or do what she said depending on how confident the other person happened to be – this time, the person simply stared back at her. She couldn’t explain why, all she knew was that something seemed off about the entire situation and she wanted to run, but she couldn’t bring herself to show that she was apprehensive about it all.

“Okay really, what’s your problem?” She scoffed once they stepped closer, and began muttering in some language she didn’t understand, stepping back herself, she felt her back hit the streetlamp behind her, as she finally remembered her phone in her hand, suddenly bringing it up and typing frantically. The letters where random and she had no recipient in mind, she wasn’t even planning on sending someone the message, the aim was to make the other person think she was going to send it. Trying to hide any apprehension on her face, she cast a glance around them, hoping in vain that anyone else would show up.