my lover's got humor she's the giggle at a funeral
@santanainthedark
Santana Lopez, aka the hottest member of the Reality Unraveled team. I'm legally obligated to tell you that yup, all the crazy crap that happens on the show is 100% real, but I wouldn't blame you if you're skeptical. I'm the medic, which means I'm unfortunately the one to patch up these clowns when they get a little overexcited playing ghost detectives. It also means I have the brains to match the beauty, and more guts than your average reality TV star. Oh and also? I have razorblades hidden in my hair. Mhmm, tons. just allll up in there.
London! You are the answer to all of my prayers you beautiful, dingy city! I would like to be the first to say that this hotel is much nicer than the last, and Sebastian clearly made better choices with this endeavor than in Scotland which will from here on in be known strictly as ‘Never Doing that Again’, which is my sentiment on the place, as I am never going back. But that doesn’t even matter much because we are now in England, and look at this city!
For once I agree 100% with everything you just said. If that’s not proof of the world coming to an end, I don’t know what is. Oh, well maybe everything that just happened is a clear sign too. I still can’t believe it.
If Sam were a weaker man, he probably would’ve thrown the camera at her. He hesitated though and that was long enough to have Santana grabbing his hand to pull him back. “Take it, take it.” He held it out, but was no help in untangling it from him. “Uh, yeah, I can.” He took a step and yelped when the girl’s nails dug into his forearm. “YEAH, SANTANA. SO NOW WE NEED TO GO.”
He dug his feet in as she pulled him toward the dolls instead of away. “YOU’RE GOING THE WRONG WAY, SAN. WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”
Sam’s shouting was distracting, so she let him go and slowly walked up to the dolls, all in various stages of fucked up. Her heart felt like it would beat out of her chest, but she couldn’t stop just yet. The sound of the camera zooming in and her scared, ragged breathing was all she could hear as she panned over each doll before stepping back slowly. Her heel bumped into something and she yelped as she staggered, turning around and following Sam’s lead.
“SAM. CATCH ME,” she shouted to her trusty steed, flinging herself towards him for a piggyback ride out of the hell hole they had just walked into.
Sam still wasn’t sure if this was all a front or not, but if it was, he knew there would one day be an Oscar with the name Santana Lopez on it. The girl had a gift and the blond was happy to catch it all on camera.
He knew he’d have to talk to Puck one day about the three of them getting together to work on a project. He smiled and continued to film Santana as she switched to ghost hunter status. It was a smooth transition, one he was sure neither Rachel or Kurt could do when editing the film later.
He smelt what she described and shuddered when he heard her nails scratch the walls. He kept close behind her though so he nearly ran into her when she stopped abruptly. Sam panned the camera from her frame, to her hand, to where she was pointing at. It only took him a second to see what Santana could not thanks to the night vision. In the next second, he was abandoning the other with a loud, “I’m out! Those were not there before! NOPE! BYE! BLAINE!” He was going to kill the other if this was some sort of payback for uploading that video he took on the plane.
“Sam!” she called, turning to watch him leave, “At least give me the camera!” she chased him back down the hall, her own heart beating quickly. “Give it to me,” she said, grabbing his hand and yanking him back, untangling it from him. “You can’t run from this now.” She brought it up to her eye and zoomed in on the things at the end of the hallway, gasping when the picture became clearer.
“Holy shit. Are those... dolls?” She tightened her grip, taking a step forward and dragging Sam with her.
GENERAL NOTES ⇝ Santana and Rachel go to collect firewood.
SANTANA: It was cold and miserable, but everyone already knew that by now. Restless members of the RU crew had tirelessly gone through all the complaints imaginable, but they were still stuck, and still trying to squeeze the haunted location for all its worth.
Needless to say, things like the production of an episode of Reality Unraveled took time, which required patience, which is where Santana fell short.
She figured she could continue to complain into the night, which was a specialty of hers, or actuallydosomething.
So she got up, laced her boots, and walked towards the middle of camp.
"Someone’s been slacking, and now the fire is almost out. I’m going to get more wood, does anyone want to come with me or are you all too chicken after baldy’s little warning?"
RACHEL: It was childish, she acknowledged, wanting to go home. After working so hard to get where she was, and to be accepted the way she finally had been, it all seemed very immature to want to turn tails and run in the opposite direction. But she was cold, tired and more than a little scared, all of it adding up to one very tense, more high strung than usual Rachel Berry.
Looking up at Santana’s voice, she waited for a moment before giving Kurt’s hands a gentle squeeze. “I’ll be back,” she assured him as she moved away from his side and the warmth her provided, she lifted Sam’s hoody from her lap pulling over her head and letting it settle, too large around her frame before she scooped up her favorite pink flash light with the red tint to protect her night vision.
“Okay Santana,” she sighed, unable to allow the Latina to go alone, even if she knew the trip was bound to be unpleasant for her in every way imaginable. Yes, she was terrified of the creepy old dude who had come and vanished nearly as quickly. There were several parts of her mind that were positive he was still around somewhere, and for that alone she couldn’t let the bullheaded woman go off alone.
Turning the flashlight on she moved to stand by her side after fishing out her backpack from just inside the tent slinging the straps over her shoulders. It was easier than trying to carry all of it in her arms. “Let’s go then.” She breathed doing her best to smile. “The quicker we go, the sooner we’re back.”
SANTANA: She couldn’t help but roll her eyes when Rachel volunteered. Ofcourse it would be her, but at least she looked well prepared, swinging her backpack on, and ready to put in work.
"Right," she agreed in a grumble, taking a strong step forward, dipping past the tree line. The sun was still barely hanging in the sky, but Santana turned her flashlight on anyway. Why did she think this was a good idea again?
"Everything is all soggy from the rain. We have to find a spot with a thick canopy," Santana said, looking up, and trying to walk to places where the least amount of sunset sky could be seen, "This way."
She made a left, kicking up dried leaves on the forest floor and trying to find dry branches with her flashlight.
"Do you see anything?" Santana said in a whisper despite herself. For whatever reason she didn’t want to be heard by anything other than Rachel.
RACHEL: The petit songstress might have been proud of Santana for remembering anything that came out of her bi-weekly survivalist pamphlets if it weren’t for the current situation. Every breath had her feeling jumpy, ever soft sound of her feet on the forest floor, or Santana’s equally cushioned steps left her feeling dizzy, her heart skipping beats. Why was she out here? She should have stayed with Kurt, like she promised.
“We might have better luck if we dig a little through piles of debris. There might be some dry kindling pieces and smaller branches that were protected from the rain that way,” she mused voice equally soft, dark brown eyes skirting the tree line around them. Her flashlight, so carefully designed to save her sight was not doing anything to ease her nerves. The eerie red glow it cast on everything unnerved her.
Moving forward just enough to dig through a tangle of branches she quickly gave up, it was all soaked through. The moisture was practically hanging in the air, it was no wonder. Longing for conversation to ease the tension, even if it led to an argument Rachel, wet her lips. “My Dad’s sent me an email today,” she continued softly her eyes scanning for potential firewood. “They said when we get back they want to come to Chicago and buy us all dinner, you know. For a job well done. I told them that wasn’t necessary but they insist.”
When she wandered, she kept a careful space between her and Santana, always pausing to let the other catch up when her mind deemed the distance too far, wandering like invisibly tethered to her. Losing one another in the woods like this wouldn’t be ideal. And with the chance of the creepy old man still being in the woods around them…a shiver tumbled down her spine. “Any luck?”
SANTANA: Rachel was right, the moisture surrounding them had permeated nearly everything, even the two of them. Santana couldn’t help but shiver, shoveling wet leaves with her cold hands but not finding anything dry underneath them. She cursed under her breath. And why the hell did Rachel bring a flashlight that glowed red?
She let her ramble. With her eyes so focused on the ground, she only half heard whatever she was saying. “Buy us dinner. How nice,” she said dryly, distracted until she sighed with irritation and stopped in her tracks.
"No. There’s nothing." Santana shook her head and shuffled closer to the other woman. The trees seemed to trace them a little tighter every time Santana looked around.
"Let’s just look a little more…" Santana trailed off, Rachel’s red light putting her on edge as it bounced around the eery scenery surrounding them.
She could feel Rachel close to her, but her gut was sinking like she was completely alone. She didn’t realize she was holding her breath until she was forced to inhale sharply.
"Crap. Which way did we come from?"
RACHEL: It was probably a by-product of their many arguments and tumultuous relationship that Rachel could tell just by the subtly influxes of her voice, how Santana was feeling. When Santana answered her question she could almost taste the unease, the frustration. It didn’t help. “I’m sure we’ll be okay until morning, then we can just have the boys do a quick hunt to find something that will burn, they’ve done okay the last few days…”
Her voice sounded wrong in the silence, like there was something about the very nature of it that disturbed and upset the forest around them and God how she didn’t want to be there anymore. It was irrational but undeniable that the brunette had been pushed way too far past her comfort zone to even be okay with this little chunk of land in Scotland. If given the chance, she would never come back here. If given the chance to do it all over, she wasn’t sure she’d have come at all.
The sudden sound of Santana’s voice made her jump, jump like some idiot teen girl at a horror movie, and she edged closer to the Latina almost as if on instinct alone. Standing too close, close enough to feel the faint heat of the others body against her arm, but not close enough to sooth her frazzled nerves as she looked around, flashlight doing a slow sweet of the trees around them.
“What?” Which way had they come? That seemed easy enough. Just turn around and retrace their steps back to the camp. It wasn’t like they’d done a lot of straying from one path. “We should just be able to…” but as she turned around she suddenly wasn’t sure if she trusted that. They’d be wandering after all. And the trees made it impossible to pick a straight path. Holding her breath her ears strained for any sound from their friends. A soft murmur of a voice or a the crack of the fire. But the harder she listened the more the silence taunted her.
“Santana….” There was a shrill octave to the small woman’s tone that belied her early confidence. “I really hate Scotland,” she mumbled as she glanced around again feeling the panic starting to bubble in her gut.
SANTANA: She copied Rachel’s movements, turning in a circle and trying to find which piece of forest looked the most familiar, but it was all in vain. She was so dumb to rush into this meaningless task to give her mind something to be preoccupied with. She should have waited until morning, or gone out when the sun was still high in the sky.
But she didn’t. And now the darkness was pushing in on them. She turned to Rachel when she heard her say her name, swallowing the lump in her throat.
"Me too," she replied in a quiet voice, though there was a hint of the usual annoyance that came with being around Rachel. "But now would be areallygood time for all that survival crap you are like to go on and on about to kick in. Is there like, a star or something we could follow?” Santana’s eyes moved upwards again, but most of the inky black sky was shrouded by the trees. Standing still made her too anxious though, especially with a very jumpy Rachel next to her.
"Screw this. Let’s go this way," she said, grabbing Rachel by the wrist and leading her through a clearing, walking up a slight incline.
There were sounds of the night surrounding them and Santana was on high alert to everything. Each snapped twig senta small shiver through her body, but she knew she had to keep her cool, or they would both start freaking out and make the situation worse.
"If you hear something, or if you see something, don’t you even think of screaming. We don’t want anyone knowing we’re in here."
RACHEL: She nearly laughed. Her ‘survivalist’ crap was aimed to keep them alive should they get lost in the woods until they could be rescued. It wasn’t aimed to lead them back to camp should they get lost, that part never seemed as important in her mind, but she was sure there was something she knew that could be helpful to her here. Glancing up at the sky all she could see was black, the light grey outlines of leaves obscuring any chance at seeing the sky they might have possibly had. That idea was out.
“I can’t see anything.” Her frustration was clear in her whispered tone; digging quickly in her pocket for a back of labeled tissues that she quickly tossed to the ground as Santana started pulling her deeper into the woods. At least this way she’d have a point to aim back for, and she did her best to memorize some landmarks. How was she so stupid as to allow them both to get stuck in this mess?
“Wait, wait, wait. Just stop.” Glancing around at the trees around them, she did her best to get a feel for where they were, and which direction they were going trying to remember what she’d seen on the trees as they’d entered. Walking around one smaller trunked affair she took note of the direction the moss grew as well as the way the trees were getting thicker as they moved further in.
“We’re not going in the right direction,” she insisted pointing in front of them, the space only seeming to be darker and more isolated. “The trees and foliage are just getting more tightly packed, probably because the original village used cross clearing towards the outer edges to build with.” Trying to focus her mind was hard when every soft rustle made her start, but she wasn’t entirely okay with the idea of being lost in the woods all night. It was only going to get colder.
“We should just go back the way we came, and try to find the places where we disturbed the ground cover. If we can find our markings then going back should be easy from there.”
SANTANA: She groaned with annoyance when Rachel made them stop, turning to listen to her. She was too quick to want to tramp through the woods thinking determination alone would help them find their way home. Her eyes moved over what Rachel was pointing at—she wasn’t sure she saw what she was referring to, but the reference to the village made her stomach twist.
"Right, and next you’ll be asking the trees for directions moments before getting nailed with an apple,” she whispered, unable to prevent the snark remark despite their current situation. “After you,” Santana said, motioning for Rachel to lead the way.
She kept her footfalls light, and hovered close to Rachel. They were still lost in the woods in rural Scotland on supposed haunted grounds. Even if it was just Santana and Rachel and their usual bickering, there was more on the line than the occasional bitch slap. Would she sacrifice the hobbit if it came down to it?
"Hey," she whispered, tugging on the back of Rachel’s jacket. "Would you sacrifice me?"
RACHEL: “Christ, Santana!” The petit brunette hissed, jumping a mile out of her skin at the sudden tug on the back of her hoody. It was all frustrating enough to make her want to cry, but she did her best to keep it together, taking a deep breath before she allowed her mind to contemplate the question at hand. Would she allow Santana to be sacrificed? There were little doubt in her mind that were the roles reversed the Latina would have little trouble tossing her in front of some psycho and running to save her life.
But could she do the same? The jury was out on that one. “I don’t know, why does it matter?” She whispered, even the slight sound of her voice too loud in the oppressive darkness. She felt like she was being watched, could swear every hair on the back of her neck was raised in warning of some silent and unseen oppressor. What sounded like a branch breaking caused her to quickly stumble back, her hand gripping Santana’s in a shaking steel grip. “Can we just focus on getting back to camp? Please? ”
Trying to find her nerve to keep moving, she took a slow step forward the red neoprene coated flashlight sweeping across the ground as she kept an eye out for her pack of dropped Kleenex. Like a modern day Hansel and Gretel but she had no bread crumbs.
“I wouldn’t.” She finally sighed. “Sacrifice you I mean. I wouldn’t. And not for any noble reason either, so don’t even start. I would do it because I need to be able to look at myself in the mirror every day and not feel like a crappy human being. It’s for my piece of mind.”
SANTANA: It was annoying to her that Rachel couldn’t even suspend their already awful reality and talk about the wholesome act of sacrificing people to save their own skin. They were bombarded with questions like these all the time, but what they didn’t know back home was that there was potential for a sacrificial incident now more than ever before.
She had to reel her thoughts back in and focus. There would be no sacrificing that night, or any other nights for that matter.
"Huh," is all she could think of to reply when Rachel told her that she wouldn’t be down to have a guilty conscious. "If you say so." She prodded Rachel along after that, letting the silence fall over them once more.
When Rachel’s light slid over something that scurried away at the exposure, Santana jumped, grabbing the back of Rachel’s jacket again.
"Are their rats everywhere in Scotland?” she asked, almost breathless from the scare.
RACHEL: Rachel had to clamp her lips shut, whipping around to face the other with a look of clear annoyance and more than a little fear shining in her night darkened eyes. “Santana, I swear to all that is holy if you keep grabbing the back of my shirt like that I am going to sacrifice you to the animals, my conscience be damned!” She hissed though clenched teeth.
She was freaking out enough without the added help. She missed Noah, for half a second she wished she had followed him out into the woods. Yeah, maybe he’d be as scared as she was, but she wouldn’t be arguing with him over who needed to be sacrificed or telling him to stop scaring the daylights out of her. It wasn’t fair, of course. She couldn’t blame Santana for being afraid, obviously. But the added stress wasn’t making her any easier to handle than normal.
“And yes, probably.” She answered in a breath. “I have seen an excessive amount of them but I would think it’s our fault for wandering into unoccupied territory. All of this land belong to nature now. We’re trespassing…” In more ways than one. Squaring her shoulders, she lightly gripped Santana’s wrist, a stop gap to keep her from causing her to jump any more before she started forward again.
“It should be somewhere around here, just keep your eyes open for the tissues. From there, we’ll just head straight back and look for the pile I disturbed, and the leaves you kicked around. From there it’ll be simple I should think…”
SANTANA: The word trespassing made Santana narrow her eyes. She didn’t think of it like that, and if she was being honest, it made her feel a little uneasy. Were they trespassing? Was there anyone to claim this land as their own? Or was it owned in a way that neither of them could really fathom?
She decided to stay quiet after that, walking carefully, her eyes trained to the ground to make sure she didn’t trip or make too much noise. But then she saw what they were looking for.
"There!" she whispered, snatching the tissues up and tossing them to Rachel. She immediately started shuffling around, trying to find the leaves they had messed up.
But then something else caught her eye….
"Rachel," she hissed waving her over, her light fixed on the forest floor. "Is that… is that a footprint?" she asked, looking at the other girl before moving her eyes back to the dent in the mud that was too big to be either of their steps.
ISOLATED REALITY: Why yes, Santana, that is a footprint - several of them actually. And if you’ll look ahead twenty feet by that gigantic tree that’s fallen over the years.. Yes, the one covered in moss with the twenty decapitated rabbits piled up in front of it, you’ll notice a footprint isn’t really the most notable thing about the current scene. The bodies are all there, but where did the heads go?
RACHEL: She was having a hard time deciding what bothered her more. Santana’s constant nagging and grabbing or the unnerving silence around them. Rachel was finally starting to understand in all the novels she’d red what it meant when it felt like the silence was closing in on you, the darkness. Her every breath was too loud, deafening in the quiet. She was so used to the sound of people, the constant chatter of Puck or Sam, rambling about movies, comic books or music. Of Kurt and Brittany and Blaine always telling them how great this episode was going to be.
But now it was just her, the sound of Santana’s footprints muffled by the ground cover and two steady intakes and exhales of breath. She had just finished picturing her bedroom at home in Chicago, alarm clock on the nightstand, robe hanging off the back of the door and the soft scent of freesia when Santana tossed her the pack of tissues, which her frozen fingers curled around and pulled to her chest. “What?”
Her eyes dropped down, glancing at the large footprint. Whoever had left it was much heavier than them, or wearing boots as the print was sunk into the forest floor and clear as day. “Crap….” The brunette breathed as her light moved around, slowly moving in the direction the prints had come from the light shaking as a result of her trembling form. “I told you he was still here!” She hissed. “Still here and probably watching us li- Oh my god!”
She quickly turned around, willing herself not to wretch as she covered her mouth with the crook of her elbow. “Santana we need to go. We need to go, we need to get out of this forest and away from this site go back to the gross bed and breakfast and leave Scotland, maybe even go home but we just need togo.” Her voice was shrill with panic and disgust, the pile of dead rabbits, all lined up and missing their heads. “Please lets go,” she begged. “Please. I’ll never argue with you again let’s just go.”
SANTANA: Santana was about to look for another step when Rachel started freaking out. “What the hell?” she asked, looking up at her before following Rachel’s line of vision. There was something dark and leaking down the trunk of a fallen tree. Rachel’s begging faded into the back of her mind as Santana took a step closer, narrowing her eyes before gasping and jumping back.
“Holy shit!” she cried out, shining her light on the bodies of all the dead rabbits. It looked like a scene straight out of a sacrificial seance, and for whatever reason, the urge to run was muddled in her freaked out mind. Was this proof? Proof that everything they did might be actually… true?
“Do you think it was that old guy?” she hissed, backing away slowly and bumping into Rachel before turning around to look at her. “How the hell do we even get out of here?” she asked, panic slowly starting to make its way into her body, taking over her other emotions. Santana looked around quickly, her eyes darting with the fear that something even worse was about to happen.
Then she heard a loud rustle of leaves followed by something that sounded like footsteps
“Run!” Santana shouted, dropping her flashlight and grabbing Rachel’s hand, taking off in the direction of the camp.
RACHEL: “I don’t know,” Rachel breathed. “I don’t know, I don’t, I really don’t…” She had to pause to try and hit reset on her frazzled mind and tattered nerves. She was on the verge of having a mental breakdown and that wasn’t going to be helpful to them, she needed to think, but the dead rabbits behind her were making it difficult. She needed to think. Closing her eyes tightly she took a deep steady breath, ignoring Santana’s next question as she opened her eyes and looked around.
There she could see the pile of leaves she’d messed with. “This way,” she mumbled. “It must be this way.” If it wasn’t they would end up more lost. And who knows what they were going to run into. More rabbits? The image of a pile of decapitated rabbit heads flashed through her mind and she choked back another gag, trying to force it down. “It’ll be this way,” she encouraged pointing through the darkness. “If we just keep going this way we’ll make it back.” She hoped.
Her mind barley registered the rustling of leaves as she tried to get her bearings again. Looking at the trunks of the trees. She was pretty sure if they just kept going the way they’d come they would eventually break the tree line though probably down a ways from the initially entry point into the trees. Thing would be familiar on the outside, however so that wasn’t much of an issue.
Starting as Santana shouted and took off, grabbing her hand she felt the fear that had been held back break through her, and her hand help onto Santana’s so tightly it had to be painful as they crashed through the woods. “We need to get out of here!” She shouted. “It’s not safe.”
SANTANA: The tightness of Rachel’s grip was matched by Santana’s, afraid that if they let go, they would get separated and even more lost. Her eyes were wide and wild with fear, darting around from tree trunk to tree trunk, trying to avoid smashing into one at the same time. But they seemed to be on the right path because of the separated bushes and packed earth.
Through the trees, Santana saw a glimmer of light, and against her better judgement, she stopped again, pulling Rachel close before she could shout about it.
“There,” she whispered, pointing through the trees to the light. “That’s our camp right?” she asked, “I’m not trying to gatecrash Gurtie.”
GENERAL NOTES ⇝ Santana and Rachel go to collect firewood.
SANTANA: It was cold and miserable, but everyone already knew that by now. Restless members of the RU crew had tirelessly gone through all the complaints imaginable, but they were still stuck, and still trying to squeeze the haunted location for all its worth.
Needless to say, things like the production of an episode of Reality Unraveled took time, which required patience, which is where Santana fell short.
She figured she could continue to complain into the night, which was a specialty of hers, or actuallydosomething.
So she got up, laced her boots, and walked towards the middle of camp.
"Someone’s been slacking, and now the fire is almost out. I’m going to get more wood, does anyone want to come with me or are you all too chicken after baldy’s little warning?"
RACHEL: It was childish, she acknowledged, wanting to go home. After working so hard to get where she was, and to be accepted the way she finally had been, it all seemed very immature to want to turn tails and run in the opposite direction. But she was cold, tired and more than a little scared, all of it adding up to one very tense, more high strung than usual Rachel Berry.
Looking up at Santana’s voice, she waited for a moment before giving Kurt’s hands a gentle squeeze. “I’ll be back,” she assured him as she moved away from his side and the warmth her provided, she lifted Sam’s hoody from her lap pulling over her head and letting it settle, too large around her frame before she scooped up her favorite pink flash light with the red tint to protect her night vision.
“Okay Santana,” she sighed, unable to allow the Latina to go alone, even if she knew the trip was bound to be unpleasant for her in every way imaginable. Yes, she was terrified of the creepy old dude who had come and vanished nearly as quickly. There were several parts of her mind that were positive he was still around somewhere, and for that alone she couldn’t let the bullheaded woman go off alone.
Turning the flashlight on she moved to stand by her side after fishing out her backpack from just inside the tent slinging the straps over her shoulders. It was easier than trying to carry all of it in her arms. “Let’s go then.” She breathed doing her best to smile. “The quicker we go, the sooner we’re back.”
SANTANA: She couldn’t help but roll her eyes when Rachel volunteered. Ofcourse it would be her, but at least she looked well prepared, swinging her backpack on, and ready to put in work.
"Right," she agreed in a grumble, taking a strong step forward, dipping past the tree line. The sun was still barely hanging in the sky, but Santana turned her flashlight on anyway. Why did she think this was a good idea again?
"Everything is all soggy from the rain. We have to find a spot with a thick canopy," Santana said, looking up, and trying to walk to places where the least amount of sunset sky could be seen, "This way."
She made a left, kicking up dried leaves on the forest floor and trying to find dry branches with her flashlight.
"Do you see anything?" Santana said in a whisper despite herself. For whatever reason she didn’t want to be heard by anything other than Rachel.
RACHEL: The petit songstress might have been proud of Santana for remembering anything that came out of her bi-weekly survivalist pamphlets if it weren’t for the current situation. Every breath had her feeling jumpy, ever soft sound of her feet on the forest floor, or Santana’s equally cushioned steps left her feeling dizzy, her heart skipping beats. Why was she out here? She should have stayed with Kurt, like she promised.
“We might have better luck if we dig a little through piles of debris. There might be some dry kindling pieces and smaller branches that were protected from the rain that way,” she mused voice equally soft, dark brown eyes skirting the tree line around them. Her flashlight, so carefully designed to save her sight was not doing anything to ease her nerves. The eerie red glow it cast on everything unnerved her.
Moving forward just enough to dig through a tangle of branches she quickly gave up, it was all soaked through. The moisture was practically hanging in the air, it was no wonder. Longing for conversation to ease the tension, even if it led to an argument Rachel, wet her lips. “My Dad’s sent me an email today,” she continued softly her eyes scanning for potential firewood. “They said when we get back they want to come to Chicago and buy us all dinner, you know. For a job well done. I told them that wasn’t necessary but they insist.”
When she wandered, she kept a careful space between her and Santana, always pausing to let the other catch up when her mind deemed the distance too far, wandering like invisibly tethered to her. Losing one another in the woods like this wouldn’t be ideal. And with the chance of the creepy old man still being in the woods around them…a shiver tumbled down her spine. “Any luck?”
SANTANA: Rachel was right, the moisture surrounding them had permeated nearly everything, even the two of them. Santana couldn’t help but shiver, shoveling wet leaves with her cold hands but not finding anything dry underneath them. She cursed under her breath. And why the hell did Rachel bring a flashlight that glowed red?
She let her ramble. With her eyes so focused on the ground, she only half heard whatever she was saying. “Buy us dinner. How nice,” she said dryly, distracted until she sighed with irritation and stopped in her tracks.
"No. There’s nothing." Santana shook her head and shuffled closer to the other woman. The trees seemed to trace them a little tighter every time Santana looked around.
"Let’s just look a little more…" Santana trailed off, Rachel’s red light putting her on edge as it bounced around the eery scenery surrounding them.
She could feel Rachel close to her, but her gut was sinking like she was completely alone. She didn’t realize she was holding her breath until she was forced to inhale sharply.
"Crap. Which way did we come from?"
RACHEL: It was probably a by-product of their many arguments and tumultuous relationship that Rachel could tell just by the subtly influxes of her voice, how Santana was feeling. When Santana answered her question she could almost taste the unease, the frustration. It didn’t help. “I’m sure we’ll be okay until morning, then we can just have the boys do a quick hunt to find something that will burn, they’ve done okay the last few days…”
Her voice sounded wrong in the silence, like there was something about the very nature of it that disturbed and upset the forest around them and God how she didn’t want to be there anymore. It was irrational but undeniable that the brunette had been pushed way too far past her comfort zone to even be okay with this little chunk of land in Scotland. If given the chance, she would never come back here. If given the chance to do it all over, she wasn’t sure she’d have come at all.
The sudden sound of Santana’s voice made her jump, jump like some idiot teen girl at a horror movie, and she edged closer to the Latina almost as if on instinct alone. Standing too close, close enough to feel the faint heat of the others body against her arm, but not close enough to sooth her frazzled nerves as she looked around, flashlight doing a slow sweet of the trees around them.
“What?” Which way had they come? That seemed easy enough. Just turn around and retrace their steps back to the camp. It wasn’t like they’d done a lot of straying from one path. “We should just be able to…” but as she turned around she suddenly wasn’t sure if she trusted that. They’d be wandering after all. And the trees made it impossible to pick a straight path. Holding her breath her ears strained for any sound from their friends. A soft murmur of a voice or a the crack of the fire. But the harder she listened the more the silence taunted her.
“Santana….” There was a shrill octave to the small woman’s tone that belied her early confidence. “I really hate Scotland,” she mumbled as she glanced around again feeling the panic starting to bubble in her gut.
SANTANA: She copied Rachel’s movements, turning in a circle and trying to find which piece of forest looked the most familiar, but it was all in vain. She was so dumb to rush into this meaningless task to give her mind something to be preoccupied with. She should have waited until morning, or gone out when the sun was still high in the sky.
But she didn’t. And now the darkness was pushing in on them. She turned to Rachel when she heard her say her name, swallowing the lump in her throat.
"Me too," she replied in a quiet voice, though there was a hint of the usual annoyance that came with being around Rachel. "But now would be areallygood time for all that survival crap you are like to go on and on about to kick in. Is there like, a star or something we could follow?” Santana’s eyes moved upwards again, but most of the inky black sky was shrouded by the trees. Standing still made her too anxious though, especially with a very jumpy Rachel next to her.
"Screw this. Let’s go this way," she said, grabbing Rachel by the wrist and leading her through a clearing, walking up a slight incline.
There were sounds of the night surrounding them and Santana was on high alert to everything. Each snapped twig senta small shiver through her body, but she knew she had to keep her cool, or they would both start freaking out and make the situation worse.
"If you hear something, or if you see something, don’t you even think of screaming. We don’t want anyone knowing we’re in here."
RACHEL: She nearly laughed. Her ‘survivalist’ crap was aimed to keep them alive should they get lost in the woods until they could be rescued. It wasn’t aimed to lead them back to camp should they get lost, that part never seemed as important in her mind, but she was sure there was something she knew that could be helpful to her here. Glancing up at the sky all she could see was black, the light grey outlines of leaves obscuring any chance at seeing the sky they might have possibly had. That idea was out.
“I can’t see anything.” Her frustration was clear in her whispered tone; digging quickly in her pocket for a back of labeled tissues that she quickly tossed to the ground as Santana started pulling her deeper into the woods. At least this way she’d have a point to aim back for, and she did her best to memorize some landmarks. How was she so stupid as to allow them both to get stuck in this mess?
“Wait, wait, wait. Just stop.” Glancing around at the trees around them, she did her best to get a feel for where they were, and which direction they were going trying to remember what she’d seen on the trees as they’d entered. Walking around one smaller trunked affair she took note of the direction the moss grew as well as the way the trees were getting thicker as they moved further in.
“We’re not going in the right direction,” she insisted pointing in front of them, the space only seeming to be darker and more isolated. “The trees and foliage are just getting more tightly packed, probably because the original village used cross clearing towards the outer edges to build with.” Trying to focus her mind was hard when every soft rustle made her start, but she wasn’t entirely okay with the idea of being lost in the woods all night. It was only going to get colder.
“We should just go back the way we came, and try to find the places where we disturbed the ground cover. If we can find our markings then going back should be easy from there.”
SANTANA: She groaned with annoyance when Rachel made them stop, turning to listen to her. She was too quick to want to tramp through the woods thinking determination alone would help them find their way home. Her eyes moved over what Rachel was pointing at—she wasn’t sure she saw what she was referring to, but the reference to the village made her stomach twist.
"Right, and next you’ll be asking the trees for directions moments before getting nailed with an apple,” she whispered, unable to prevent the snark remark despite their current situation. “After you,” Santana said, motioning for Rachel to lead the way.
She kept her footfalls light, and hovered close to Rachel. They were still lost in the woods in rural Scotland on supposed haunted grounds. Even if it was just Santana and Rachel and their usual bickering, there was more on the line than the occasional bitch slap. Would she sacrifice the hobbit if it came down to it?
"Hey," she whispered, tugging on the back of Rachel’s jacket. "Would you sacrifice me?"
RACHEL: “Christ, Santana!” The petit brunette hissed, jumping a mile out of her skin at the sudden tug on the back of her hoody. It was all frustrating enough to make her want to cry, but she did her best to keep it together, taking a deep breath before she allowed her mind to contemplate the question at hand. Would she allow Santana to be sacrificed? There were little doubt in her mind that were the roles reversed the Latina would have little trouble tossing her in front of some psycho and running to save her life.
But could she do the same? The jury was out on that one. “I don’t know, why does it matter?” She whispered, even the slight sound of her voice too loud in the oppressive darkness. She felt like she was being watched, could swear every hair on the back of her neck was raised in warning of some silent and unseen oppressor. What sounded like a branch breaking caused her to quickly stumble back, her hand gripping Santana’s in a shaking steel grip. “Can we just focus on getting back to camp? Please? ”
Trying to find her nerve to keep moving, she took a slow step forward the red neoprene coated flashlight sweeping across the ground as she kept an eye out for her pack of dropped Kleenex. Like a modern day Hansel and Gretel but she had no bread crumbs.
“I wouldn’t.” She finally sighed. “Sacrifice you I mean. I wouldn’t. And not for any noble reason either, so don’t even start. I would do it because I need to be able to look at myself in the mirror every day and not feel like a crappy human being. It’s for my piece of mind.”
SANTANA: It was annoying to her that Rachel couldn’t even suspend their already awful reality and talk about the wholesome act of sacrificing people to save their own skin. They were bombarded with questions like these all the time, but what they didn’t know back home was that there was potential for a sacrificial incident now more than ever before.
She had to reel her thoughts back in and focus. There would be no sacrificing that night, or any other nights for that matter.
"Huh," is all she could think of to reply when Rachel told her that she wouldn’t be down to have a guilty conscious. "If you say so." She prodded Rachel along after that, letting the silence fall over them once more.
When Rachel’s light slid over something that scurried away at the exposure, Santana jumped, grabbing the back of Rachel’s jacket again.
"Are their rats everywhere in Scotland?” she asked, almost breathless from the scare.
RACHEL: Rachel had to clamp her lips shut, whipping around to face the other with a look of clear annoyance and more than a little fear shining in her night darkened eyes. “Santana, I swear to all that is holy if you keep grabbing the back of my shirt like that I am going to sacrifice you to the animals, my conscience be damned!” She hissed though clenched teeth.
She was freaking out enough without the added help. She missed Noah, for half a second she wished she had followed him out into the woods. Yeah, maybe he’d be as scared as she was, but she wouldn’t be arguing with him over who needed to be sacrificed or telling him to stop scaring the daylights out of her. It wasn’t fair, of course. She couldn’t blame Santana for being afraid, obviously. But the added stress wasn’t making her any easier to handle than normal.
“And yes, probably.” She answered in a breath. “I have seen an excessive amount of them but I would think it’s our fault for wandering into unoccupied territory. All of this land belong to nature now. We’re trespassing…” In more ways than one. Squaring her shoulders, she lightly gripped Santana’s wrist, a stop gap to keep her from causing her to jump any more before she started forward again.
“It should be somewhere around here, just keep your eyes open for the tissues. From there, we’ll just head straight back and look for the pile I disturbed, and the leaves you kicked around. From there it’ll be simple I should think…”
SANTANA: The word trespassing made Santana narrow her eyes. She didn’t think of it like that, and if she was being honest, it made her feel a little uneasy. Were they trespassing? Was there anyone to claim this land as their own? Or was it owned in a way that neither of them could really fathom?
She decided to stay quiet after that, walking carefully, her eyes trained to the ground to make sure she didn’t trip or make too much noise. But then she saw what they were looking for.
"There!" she whispered, snatching the tissues up and tossing them to Rachel. She immediately started shuffling around, trying to find the leaves they had messed up.
But then something else caught her eye….
"Rachel," she hissed waving her over, her light fixed on the forest floor. "Is that… is that a footprint?" she asked, looking at the other girl before moving her eyes back to the dent in the mud that was too big to be either of their steps.
ISOLATED REALITY: Why yes, Santana, that is a footprint - several of them actually. And if you’ll look ahead twenty feet by that gigantic tree that’s fallen over the years.. Yes, the one covered in moss with the twenty decapitated rabbits piled up in front of it, you’ll notice a footprint isn’t really the most notable thing about the current scene. The bodies are all there, but where did the heads go?
RACHEL: She was having a hard time deciding what bothered her more. Santana’s constant nagging and grabbing or the unnerving silence around them. Rachel was finally starting to understand in all the novels she’d red what it meant when it felt like the silence was closing in on you, the darkness. Her every breath was too loud, deafening in the quiet. She was so used to the sound of people, the constant chatter of Puck or Sam, rambling about movies, comic books or music. Of Kurt and Brittany and Blaine always telling them how great this episode was going to be.
But now it was just her, the sound of Santana’s footprints muffled by the ground cover and two steady intakes and exhales of breath. She had just finished picturing her bedroom at home in Chicago, alarm clock on the nightstand, robe hanging off the back of the door and the soft scent of freesia when Santana tossed her the pack of tissues, which her frozen fingers curled around and pulled to her chest. “What?”
Her eyes dropped down, glancing at the large footprint. Whoever had left it was much heavier than them, or wearing boots as the print was sunk into the forest floor and clear as day. “Crap….” The brunette breathed as her light moved around, slowly moving in the direction the prints had come from the light shaking as a result of her trembling form. “I told you he was still here!” She hissed. “Still here and probably watching us li- Oh my god!”
She quickly turned around, willing herself not to wretch as she covered her mouth with the crook of her elbow. “Santana we need to go. We need to go, we need to get out of this forest and away from this site go back to the gross bed and breakfast and leave Scotland, maybe even go home but we just need togo.” Her voice was shrill with panic and disgust, the pile of dead rabbits, all lined up and missing their heads. “Please lets go,” she begged. “Please. I’ll never argue with you again let’s just go.”
SANTANA: Santana was about to look for another step when Rachel started freaking out. “What the hell?” she asked, looking up at her before following Rachel’s line of vision. There was something dark and leaking down the trunk of a fallen tree. Rachel’s begging faded into the back of her mind as Santana took a step closer, narrowing her eyes before gasping and jumping back.
“Holy shit!” she cried out, shining her light on the bodies of all the dead rabbits. It looked like a scene straight out of a sacrificial seance, and for whatever reason, the urge to run was muddled in her freaked out mind. Was this proof? Proof that everything they did might be actually... true?
“Do you think it was that old guy?” she hissed, backing away slowly and bumping into Rachel before turning around to look at her. “How the hell do we even get out of here?” she asked, panic slowly starting to make its way into her body, taking over her other emotions. Santana looked around quickly, her eyes darting with the fear that something even worse was about to happen.
Then she heard a loud rustle of leaves followed by something that sounded like footsteps
“Run!” Santana shouted, dropping her flashlight and grabbing Rachel’s hand, taking off in the direction of the camp.
Sam had to grin as Santana started talking. He had to admit she was his favorite person out of the group to interview. He knew one day she wanted to be a star and honestly, he could definitely see it. “That’s true. So are you not worried about anything? What if it’s just the calm before the storm?” He stayed right where he was to get the perfect full body shot, the fans would totally thank him later. Then he was trying to carefully navigate through the steps and keep focus on Santana at the same time. “Seriously, you guys. No one snoops better than Santana. No one.”
While Santana got the door, he managed to keep the camera steady as he got a headlight out from his bag. He put it on his head and then turned it on. Once they were in the house, the blond then turned the night vision on the camera on. They’d already done a walk through with a couple of their lights rigged up. Still, he was sure to shoot a lot of the old decor of the house before following Santana down the hallway.
"You should talk about what you smell and stuff. People already know how it looks from the shots we’re getting, but they can’t really sense anything else."
How is it even with the multiple walk throughs people managed to miss the three dolls at the end of the hallway? Battered and broken, they’ve seen better days. The first’s eyes are all scratched out, hanging even from the worn out face. The second’s mouth has been cut up, then sewn shut… And the third has a knife through it’s ear - going through to the other side. All three dolls sit there with twine wrapped around their individual necks. How did every single person miss this? Unless of course someone just put it there.
Santana answered Sam’s questions like she usually did, bravely denying any hint of worry or fear in her, mentioning how she was from the hood even though she grew up in a affluent neighborhood, and always dropping a line about the razorblades or Snix.
“You’re damn right, Trouty,” she agreed with a smirk before slipping into professional ghost hunter mode. “Okay... It smells musty, like the wood is rotting. The dust is making my nose itch, but there’s also something earthy... like wet leaves.” Santana let her hand run across the rough walls on either side of them, her nails making soft scratching sounds.
“It’s almost like...” but Santana trailed off, stopping dead in her tracks as her eyes moved across something at the end of the hallway.. “Sam,” she whispered, all of her muscles tensing. “There’s... there’s something there,” she said, lifting her arm to slowly point to the dark mass just a few feet in front of them, shrouded by the darkness, “No one told us something was there.”
GENERAL NOTES ⇝ Santana and Rachel go to collect firewood.
SANTANA: It was cold and miserable, but everyone already knew that by now. Restless members of the RU crew had tirelessly gone through all the complaints imaginable, but they were still stuck, and still trying to squeeze the haunted location for all its worth.
Needless to say, things like the production of an episode of Reality Unraveled took time, which required patience, which is where Santana fell short.
She figured she could continue to complain into the night, which was a specialty of hers, or actuallydosomething.
So she got up, laced her boots, and walked towards the middle of camp.
"Someone’s been slacking, and now the fire is almost out. I’m going to get more wood, does anyone want to come with me or are you all too chicken after baldy’s little warning?"
RACHEL: It was childish, she acknowledged, wanting to go home. After working so hard to get where she was, and to be accepted the way she finally had been, it all seemed very immature to want to turn tails and run in the opposite direction. But she was cold, tired and more than a little scared, all of it adding up to one very tense, more high strung than usual Rachel Berry.
Looking up at Santana’s voice, she waited for a moment before giving Kurt’s hands a gentle squeeze. “I’ll be back,” she assured him as she moved away from his side and the warmth her provided, she lifted Sam’s hoody from her lap pulling over her head and letting it settle, too large around her frame before she scooped up her favorite pink flash light with the red tint to protect her night vision.
“Okay Santana,” she sighed, unable to allow the Latina to go alone, even if she knew the trip was bound to be unpleasant for her in every way imaginable. Yes, she was terrified of the creepy old dude who had come and vanished nearly as quickly. There were several parts of her mind that were positive he was still around somewhere, and for that alone she couldn’t let the bullheaded woman go off alone.
Turning the flashlight on she moved to stand by her side after fishing out her backpack from just inside the tent slinging the straps over her shoulders. It was easier than trying to carry all of it in her arms. “Let’s go then.” She breathed doing her best to smile. “The quicker we go, the sooner we’re back.”
SANTANA: She couldn’t help but roll her eyes when Rachel volunteered. Ofcourse it would be her, but at least she looked well prepared, swinging her backpack on, and ready to put in work.
"Right," she agreed in a grumble, taking a strong step forward, dipping past the tree line. The sun was still barely hanging in the sky, but Santana turned her flashlight on anyway. Why did she think this was a good idea again?
"Everything is all soggy from the rain. We have to find a spot with a thick canopy," Santana said, looking up, and trying to walk to places where the least amount of sunset sky could be seen, "This way."
She made a left, kicking up dried leaves on the forest floor and trying to find dry branches with her flashlight.
"Do you see anything?" Santana said in a whisper despite herself. For whatever reason she didn’t want to be heard by anything other than Rachel.
RACHEL: The petit songstress might have been proud of Santana for remembering anything that came out of her bi-weekly survivalist pamphlets if it weren’t for the current situation. Every breath had her feeling jumpy, ever soft sound of her feet on the forest floor, or Santana’s equally cushioned steps left her feeling dizzy, her heart skipping beats. Why was she out here? She should have stayed with Kurt, like she promised.
“We might have better luck if we dig a little through piles of debris. There might be some dry kindling pieces and smaller branches that were protected from the rain that way,” she mused voice equally soft, dark brown eyes skirting the tree line around them. Her flashlight, so carefully designed to save her sight was not doing anything to ease her nerves. The eerie red glow it cast on everything unnerved her.
Moving forward just enough to dig through a tangle of branches she quickly gave up, it was all soaked through. The moisture was practically hanging in the air, it was no wonder. Longing for conversation to ease the tension, even if it led to an argument Rachel, wet her lips. “My Dad’s sent me an email today,” she continued softly her eyes scanning for potential firewood. “They said when we get back they want to come to Chicago and buy us all dinner, you know. For a job well done. I told them that wasn’t necessary but they insist.”
When she wandered, she kept a careful space between her and Santana, always pausing to let the other catch up when her mind deemed the distance too far, wandering like invisibly tethered to her. Losing one another in the woods like this wouldn’t be ideal. And with the chance of the creepy old man still being in the woods around them…a shiver tumbled down her spine. “Any luck?”
SANTANA: Rachel was right, the moisture surrounding them had permeated nearly everything, even the two of them. Santana couldn’t help but shiver, shoveling wet leaves with her cold hands but not finding anything dry underneath them. She cursed under her breath. And why the hell did Rachel bring a flashlight that glowed red?
She let her ramble. With her eyes so focused on the ground, she only half heard whatever she was saying. “Buy us dinner. How nice,” she said dryly, distracted until she sighed with irritation and stopped in her tracks.
"No. There’s nothing." Santana shook her head and shuffled closer to the other woman. The trees seemed to trace them a little tighter every time Santana looked around.
"Let’s just look a little more…" Santana trailed off, Rachel’s red light putting her on edge as it bounced around the eery scenery surrounding them.
She could feel Rachel close to her, but her gut was sinking like she was completely alone. She didn’t realize she was holding her breath until she was forced to inhale sharply.
"Crap. Which way did we come from?"
RACHEL: It was probably a by-product of their many arguments and tumultuous relationship that Rachel could tell just by the subtly influxes of her voice, how Santana was feeling. When Santana answered her question she could almost taste the unease, the frustration. It didn’t help. “I’m sure we’ll be okay until morning, then we can just have the boys do a quick hunt to find something that will burn, they’ve done okay the last few days…”
Her voice sounded wrong in the silence, like there was something about the very nature of it that disturbed and upset the forest around them and God how she didn’t want to be there anymore. It was irrational but undeniable that the brunette had been pushed way too far past her comfort zone to even be okay with this little chunk of land in Scotland. If given the chance, she would never come back here. If given the chance to do it all over, she wasn’t sure she’d have come at all.
The sudden sound of Santana’s voice made her jump, jump like some idiot teen girl at a horror movie, and she edged closer to the Latina almost as if on instinct alone. Standing too close, close enough to feel the faint heat of the others body against her arm, but not close enough to sooth her frazzled nerves as she looked around, flashlight doing a slow sweet of the trees around them.
“What?” Which way had they come? That seemed easy enough. Just turn around and retrace their steps back to the camp. It wasn’t like they’d done a lot of straying from one path. “We should just be able to…” but as she turned around she suddenly wasn’t sure if she trusted that. They’d be wandering after all. And the trees made it impossible to pick a straight path. Holding her breath her ears strained for any sound from their friends. A soft murmur of a voice or a the crack of the fire. But the harder she listened the more the silence taunted her.
“Santana….” There was a shrill octave to the small woman’s tone that belied her early confidence. “I really hate Scotland,” she mumbled as she glanced around again feeling the panic starting to bubble in her gut.
SANTANA: She copied Rachel’s movements, turning in a circle and trying to find which piece of forest looked the most familiar, but it was all in vain. She was so dumb to rush into this meaningless task to give her mind something to be preoccupied with. She should have waited until morning, or gone out when the sun was still high in the sky.
But she didn’t. And now the darkness was pushing in on them. She turned to Rachel when she heard her say her name, swallowing the lump in her throat.
"Me too," she replied in a quiet voice, though there was a hint of the usual annoyance that came with being around Rachel. "But now would be areallygood time for all that survival crap you are like to go on and on about to kick in. Is there like, a star or something we could follow?” Santana’s eyes moved upwards again, but most of the inky black sky was shrouded by the trees. Standing still made her too anxious though, especially with a very jumpy Rachel next to her.
"Screw this. Let’s go this way," she said, grabbing Rachel by the wrist and leading her through a clearing, walking up a slight incline.
There were sounds of the night surrounding them and Santana was on high alert to everything. Each snapped twig senta small shiver through her body, but she knew she had to keep her cool, or they would both start freaking out and make the situation worse.
"If you hear something, or if you see something, don’t you even think of screaming. We don’t want anyone knowing we’re in here."
RACHEL: She nearly laughed. Her ‘survivalist’ crap was aimed to keep them alive should they get lost in the woods until they could be rescued. It wasn’t aimed to lead them back to camp should they get lost, that part never seemed as important in her mind, but she was sure there was something she knew that could be helpful to her here. Glancing up at the sky all she could see was black, the light grey outlines of leaves obscuring any chance at seeing the sky they might have possibly had. That idea was out.
“I can’t see anything.” Her frustration was clear in her whispered tone; digging quickly in her pocket for a back of labeled tissues that she quickly tossed to the ground as Santana started pulling her deeper into the woods. At least this way she’d have a point to aim back for, and she did her best to memorize some landmarks. How was she so stupid as to allow them both to get stuck in this mess?
“Wait, wait, wait. Just stop.” Glancing around at the trees around them, she did her best to get a feel for where they were, and which direction they were going trying to remember what she’d seen on the trees as they’d entered. Walking around one smaller trunked affair she took note of the direction the moss grew as well as the way the trees were getting thicker as they moved further in.
“We’re not going in the right direction,” she insisted pointing in front of them, the space only seeming to be darker and more isolated. “The trees and foliage are just getting more tightly packed, probably because the original village used cross clearing towards the outer edges to build with.” Trying to focus her mind was hard when every soft rustle made her start, but she wasn’t entirely okay with the idea of being lost in the woods all night. It was only going to get colder.
“We should just go back the way we came, and try to find the places where we disturbed the ground cover. If we can find our markings then going back should be easy from there.”
SANTANA: She groaned with annoyance when Rachel made them stop, turning to listen to her. She was too quick to want to tramp through the woods thinking determination alone would help them find their way home. Her eyes moved over what Rachel was pointing at—she wasn’t sure she saw what she was referring to, but the reference to the village made her stomach twist.
"Right, and next you’ll be asking the trees for directions moments before getting nailed with an apple,” she whispered, unable to prevent the snark remark despite their current situation. “After you,” Santana said, motioning for Rachel to lead the way.
She kept her footfalls light, and hovered close to Rachel. They were still lost in the woods in rural Scotland on supposed haunted grounds. Even if it was just Santana and Rachel and their usual bickering, there was more on the line than the occasional bitch slap. Would she sacrifice the hobbit if it came down to it?
"Hey," she whispered, tugging on the back of Rachel’s jacket. "Would you sacrifice me?"
RACHEL: “Christ, Santana!” The petit brunette hissed, jumping a mile out of her skin at the sudden tug on the back of her hoody. It was all frustrating enough to make her want to cry, but she did her best to keep it together, taking a deep breath before she allowed her mind to contemplate the question at hand. Would she allow Santana to be sacrificed? There were little doubt in her mind that were the roles reversed the Latina would have little trouble tossing her in front of some psycho and running to save her life.
But could she do the same? The jury was out on that one. “I don’t know, why does it matter?” She whispered, even the slight sound of her voice too loud in the oppressive darkness. She felt like she was being watched, could swear every hair on the back of her neck was raised in warning of some silent and unseen oppressor. What sounded like a branch breaking caused her to quickly stumble back, her hand gripping Santana’s in a shaking steel grip. “Can we just focus on getting back to camp? Please? ”
Trying to find her nerve to keep moving, she took a slow step forward the red neoprene coated flashlight sweeping across the ground as she kept an eye out for her pack of dropped Kleenex. Like a modern day Hansel and Gretel but she had no bread crumbs.
“I wouldn’t.” She finally sighed. “Sacrifice you I mean. I wouldn’t. And not for any noble reason either, so don’t even start. I would do it because I need to be able to look at myself in the mirror every day and not feel like a crappy human being. It’s for my piece of mind.”
SANTANA: It was annoying to her that Rachel couldn’t even suspend their already awful reality and talk about the wholesome act of sacrificing people to save their own skin. They were bombarded with questions like these all the time, but what they didn’t know back home was that there was potential for a sacrificial incident now more than ever before.
She had to reel her thoughts back in and focus. There would be no sacrificing that night, or any other nights for that matter.
"Huh," is all she could think of to reply when Rachel told her that she wouldn’t be down to have a guilty conscious. "If you say so." She prodded Rachel along after that, letting the silence fall over them once more.
When Rachel’s light slid over something that scurried away at the exposure, Santana jumped, grabbing the back of Rachel’s jacket again.
"Are their rats everywhere in Scotland?” she asked, almost breathless from the scare.
RACHEL: Rachel had to clamp her lips shut, whipping around to face the other with a look of clear annoyance and more than a little fear shining in her night darkened eyes. “Santana, I swear to all that is holy if you keep grabbing the back of my shirt like that I am going to sacrifice you to the animals, my conscience be damned!” She hissed though clenched teeth.
She was freaking out enough without the added help. She missed Noah, for half a second she wished she had followed him out into the woods. Yeah, maybe he’d be as scared as she was, but she wouldn’t be arguing with him over who needed to be sacrificed or telling him to stop scaring the daylights out of her. It wasn’t fair, of course. She couldn’t blame Santana for being afraid, obviously. But the added stress wasn’t making her any easier to handle than normal.
“And yes, probably.” She answered in a breath. “I have seen an excessive amount of them but I would think it’s our fault for wandering into unoccupied territory. All of this land belong to nature now. We’re trespassing…” In more ways than one. Squaring her shoulders, she lightly gripped Santana’s wrist, a stop gap to keep her from causing her to jump any more before she started forward again.
“It should be somewhere around here, just keep your eyes open for the tissues. From there, we’ll just head straight back and look for the pile I disturbed, and the leaves you kicked around. From there it’ll be simple I should think…”
SANTANA: The word trespassing made Santana narrow her eyes. She didn't think of it like that, and if she was being honest, it made her feel a little uneasy. Were they trespassing? Was there anyone to claim this land as their own? Or was it owned in a way that neither of them could really fathom?
She decided to stay quiet after that, walking carefully, her eyes trained to the ground to make sure she didn't trip or make too much noise. But then she saw what they were looking for.
"There!" she whispered, snatching the tissues up and tossing them to Rachel. She immediately started shuffling around, trying to find the leaves they had messed up.
But then something else caught her eye....
"Rachel," she hissed waving her over, her light fixed on the forest floor. "Is that... is that a footprint?" she asked, looking at the other girl before moving her eyes back to the dent in the mud that was too big to be either of their steps.
"Don’t say things like that!" Sam glared at the other and grabbed another pack with most of his extra equipment. He slung it over his arm and then got the camera rolling as he followed Santana toward the house. "Yeah, a couple of good shots here and there, but nothing we’re looking for yet." He said it with a sigh, but he was actually kind of relieved. The old man had them spooked and he wasn’t sure he wanted to find anything here anymore. "So Santana, what do you think of our case of stranger danger?" The blond kept the camera trained on Santana.
Santana not so secretly loved being interviewed. She was always in fine form, keeping it real and being hilarious. "Well Sam," she started, looking at the camera over her shoulder with a smirk as they headed to the house, "I thought it was pretty anticlimactic. I mean, shouldn't a warning be followed by something going down?" she asked with a shrug, turning back around and stepping carefully up the crumbling steps. When she was at the door, Santana turned around and looked at the camera once more. "Alright people, what you're about to see is a tried and true method of snooping. Don't try this at home."
And with last moment of being a complete ham, Santana turned around and pushed the door open slowly, old hinges creaking, dust stirred up and floating in the soft channel of light that made it through the windows caked with grime. Instantly she was met with the smell of earth, rotting wood, and something sharp and cold she couldn't place. Everything was old and had the wear and tear to show for it. She stepped into the foyer, the staircase to her left and a hallway to her right.
"Let's look down here first," she whispered, making her way down the hallways lined with stained and chipped white painted walls.
I think it might be one of my first RU memories, actually. I was the last member to join, and everyone already knew what to expect when it came to all the production stuff. I remember that we were going to screen the first episode I was in before it was posted. I was pretty nervous—would I look as hot on TV as I do in real life?
It turned out that I did, but it also turned out that someone made me a cake as an official welcome to being a permanent member of Reality Unraveled. It was totally corny and ridiculous… but really sweet at the same time.
GENERAL NOTES ⇝ Santana and Rachel go to collect firewood.
SANTANA: It was cold and miserable, but everyone already knew that by now. Restless members of the RU crew had tirelessly gone through all the complaints imaginable, but they were still stuck, and still trying to squeeze the haunted location for all its worth.
Needless to say, things like the production of an episode of Reality Unraveled took time, which required patience, which is where Santana fell short.
She figured she could continue to complain into the night, which was a specialty of hers, or actuallydosomething.
So she got up, laced her boots, and walked towards the middle of camp.
"Someone’s been slacking, and now the fire is almost out. I’m going to get more wood, does anyone want to come with me or are you all too chicken after baldy’s little warning?"
RACHEL: It was childish, she acknowledged, wanting to go home. After working so hard to get where she was, and to be accepted the way she finally had been, it all seemed very immature to want to turn tails and run in the opposite direction. But she was cold, tired and more than a little scared, all of it adding up to one very tense, more high strung than usual Rachel Berry.
Looking up at Santana’s voice, she waited for a moment before giving Kurt’s hands a gentle squeeze. “I’ll be back,” she assured him as she moved away from his side and the warmth her provided, she lifted Sam’s hoody from her lap pulling over her head and letting it settle, too large around her frame before she scooped up her favorite pink flash light with the red tint to protect her night vision.
“Okay Santana,” she sighed, unable to allow the Latina to go alone, even if she knew the trip was bound to be unpleasant for her in every way imaginable. Yes, she was terrified of the creepy old dude who had come and vanished nearly as quickly. There were several parts of her mind that were positive he was still around somewhere, and for that alone she couldn’t let the bullheaded woman go off alone.
Turning the flashlight on she moved to stand by her side after fishing out her backpack from just inside the tent slinging the straps over her shoulders. It was easier than trying to carry all of it in her arms. “Let’s go then.” She breathed doing her best to smile. “The quicker we go, the sooner we’re back.”
SANTANA: She couldn’t help but roll her eyes when Rachel volunteered. Ofcourse it would be her, but at least she looked well prepared, swinging her backpack on, and ready to put in work.
"Right," she agreed in a grumble, taking a strong step forward, dipping past the tree line. The sun was still barely hanging in the sky, but Santana turned her flashlight on anyway. Why did she think this was a good idea again?
"Everything is all soggy from the rain. We have to find a spot with a thick canopy," Santana said, looking up, and trying to walk to places where the least amount of sunset sky could be seen, "This way."
She made a left, kicking up dried leaves on the forest floor and trying to find dry branches with her flashlight.
"Do you see anything?" Santana said in a whisper despite herself. For whatever reason she didn’t want to be heard by anything other than Rachel.
RACHEL: The petit songstress might have been proud of Santana for remembering anything that came out of her bi-weekly survivalist pamphlets if it weren’t for the current situation. Every breath had her feeling jumpy, ever soft sound of her feet on the forest floor, or Santana’s equally cushioned steps left her feeling dizzy, her heart skipping beats. Why was she out here? She should have stayed with Kurt, like she promised.
“We might have better luck if we dig a little through piles of debris. There might be some dry kindling pieces and smaller branches that were protected from the rain that way,” she mused voice equally soft, dark brown eyes skirting the tree line around them. Her flashlight, so carefully designed to save her sight was not doing anything to ease her nerves. The eerie red glow it cast on everything unnerved her.
Moving forward just enough to dig through a tangle of branches she quickly gave up, it was all soaked through. The moisture was practically hanging in the air, it was no wonder. Longing for conversation to ease the tension, even if it led to an argument Rachel, wet her lips. “My Dad’s sent me an email today,” she continued softly her eyes scanning for potential firewood. “They said when we get back they want to come to Chicago and buy us all dinner, you know. For a job well done. I told them that wasn’t necessary but they insist.”
When she wandered, she kept a careful space between her and Santana, always pausing to let the other catch up when her mind deemed the distance too far, wandering like invisibly tethered to her. Losing one another in the woods like this wouldn’t be ideal. And with the chance of the creepy old man still being in the woods around them…a shiver tumbled down her spine. “Any luck?”
SANTANA: Rachel was right, the moisture surrounding them had permeated nearly everything, even the two of them. Santana couldn’t help but shiver, shoveling wet leaves with her cold hands but not finding anything dry underneath them. She cursed under her breath. And why the hell did Rachel bring a flashlight that glowed red?
She let her ramble. With her eyes so focused on the ground, she only half heard whatever she was saying. “Buy us dinner. How nice,” she said dryly, distracted until she sighed with irritation and stopped in her tracks.
"No. There’s nothing." Santana shook her head and shuffled closer to the other woman. The trees seemed to trace them a little tighter every time Santana looked around.
"Let’s just look a little more…" Santana trailed off, Rachel’s red light putting her on edge as it bounced around the eery scenery surrounding them.
She could feel Rachel close to her, but her gut was sinking like she was completely alone. She didn’t realize she was holding her breath until she was forced to inhale sharply.
"Crap. Which way did we come from?"
RACHEL: It was probably a by-product of their many arguments and tumultuous relationship that Rachel could tell just by the subtly influxes of her voice, how Santana was feeling. When Santana answered her question she could almost taste the unease, the frustration. It didn’t help. “I’m sure we’ll be okay until morning, then we can just have the boys do a quick hunt to find something that will burn, they’ve done okay the last few days…”
Her voice sounded wrong in the silence, like there was something about the very nature of it that disturbed and upset the forest around them and God how she didn’t want to be there anymore. It was irrational but undeniable that the brunette had been pushed way too far past her comfort zone to even be okay with this little chunk of land in Scotland. If given the chance, she would never come back here. If given the chance to do it all over, she wasn’t sure she’d have come at all.
The sudden sound of Santana’s voice made her jump, jump like some idiot teen girl at a horror movie, and she edged closer to the Latina almost as if on instinct alone. Standing too close, close enough to feel the faint heat of the others body against her arm, but not close enough to sooth her frazzled nerves as she looked around, flashlight doing a slow sweet of the trees around them.
“What?” Which way had they come? That seemed easy enough. Just turn around and retrace their steps back to the camp. It wasn’t like they’d done a lot of straying from one path. “We should just be able to…” but as she turned around she suddenly wasn’t sure if she trusted that. They’d be wandering after all. And the trees made it impossible to pick a straight path. Holding her breath her ears strained for any sound from their friends. A soft murmur of a voice or a the crack of the fire. But the harder she listened the more the silence taunted her.
“Santana….” There was a shrill octave to the small woman’s tone that belied her early confidence. “I really hate Scotland,” she mumbled as she glanced around again feeling the panic starting to bubble in her gut.
SANTANA: She copied Rachel’s movements, turning in a circle and trying to find which piece of forest looked the most familiar, but it was all in vain. She was so dumb to rush into this meaningless task to give her mind something to be preoccupied with. She should have waited until morning, or gone out when the sun was still high in the sky.
But she didn’t. And now the darkness was pushing in on them. She turned to Rachel when she heard her say her name, swallowing the lump in her throat.
"Me too," she replied in a quiet voice, though there was a hint of the usual annoyance that came with being around Rachel. "But now would be areallygood time for all that survival crap you are like to go on and on about to kick in. Is there like, a star or something we could follow?” Santana’s eyes moved upwards again, but most of the inky black sky was shrouded by the trees. Standing still made her too anxious though, especially with a very jumpy Rachel next to her.
"Screw this. Let’s go this way," she said, grabbing Rachel by the wrist and leading her through a clearing, walking up a slight incline.
There were sounds of the night surrounding them and Santana was on high alert to everything. Each snapped twig senta small shiver through her body, but she knew she had to keep her cool, or they would both start freaking out and make the situation worse.
"If you hear something, or if you see something, don’t you even think of screaming. We don’t want anyone knowing we’re in here."
RACHEL: She nearly laughed. Her ‘survivalist’ crap was aimed to keep them alive should they get lost in the woods until they could be rescued. It wasn’t aimed to lead them back to camp should they get lost, that part never seemed as important in her mind, but she was sure there was something she knew that could be helpful to her here. Glancing up at the sky all she could see was black, the light grey outlines of leaves obscuring any chance at seeing the sky they might have possibly had. That idea was out.
“I can’t see anything.” Her frustration was clear in her whispered tone; digging quickly in her pocket for a back of labeled tissues that she quickly tossed to the ground as Santana started pulling her deeper into the woods. At least this way she’d have a point to aim back for, and she did her best to memorize some landmarks. How was she so stupid as to allow them both to get stuck in this mess?
“Wait, wait, wait. Just stop.” Glancing around at the trees around them, she did her best to get a feel for where they were, and which direction they were going trying to remember what she’d seen on the trees as they’d entered. Walking around one smaller trunked affair she took note of the direction the moss grew as well as the way the trees were getting thicker as they moved further in.
“We’re not going in the right direction,” she insisted pointing in front of them, the space only seeming to be darker and more isolated. “The trees and foliage are just getting more tightly packed, probably because the original village used cross clearing towards the outer edges to build with.” Trying to focus her mind was hard when every soft rustle made her start, but she wasn’t entirely okay with the idea of being lost in the woods all night. It was only going to get colder.
“We should just go back the way we came, and try to find the places where we disturbed the ground cover. If we can find our markings then going back should be easy from there.”
SANTANA: She groaned with annoyance when Rachel made them stop, turning to listen to her. She was too quick to want to tramp through the woods thinking determination alone would help them find their way home. Her eyes moved over what Rachel was pointing at—she wasn’t sure she saw what she was referring to, but the reference to the village made her stomach twist.
"Right, and next you’ll be asking the trees for directions moments before getting nailed with an apple,” she whispered, unable to prevent the snark remark despite their current situation. “After you,” Santana said, motioning for Rachel to lead the way.
She kept her footfalls light, and hovered close to Rachel. They were still lost in the woods in rural Scotland on supposed haunted grounds. Even if it was just Santana and Rachel and their usual bickering, there was more on the line than the occasional bitch slap. Would she sacrifice the hobbit if it came down to it?
"Hey," she whispered, tugging on the back of Rachel’s jacket. "Would you sacrifice me?"
RACHEL: “Christ, Santana!” The petit brunette hissed, jumping a mile out of her skin at the sudden tug on the back of her hoody. It was all frustrating enough to make her want to cry, but she did her best to keep it together, taking a deep breath before she allowed her mind to contemplate the question at hand. Would she allow Santana to be sacrificed? There were little doubt in her mind that were the roles reversed the Latina would have little trouble tossing her in front of some psycho and running to save her life.
But could she do the same? The jury was out on that one. “I don’t know, why does it matter?” She whispered, even the slight sound of her voice too loud in the oppressive darkness. She felt like she was being watched, could swear every hair on the back of her neck was raised in warning of some silent and unseen oppressor. What sounded like a branch breaking caused her to quickly stumble back, her hand gripping Santana’s in a shaking steel grip. “Can we just focus on getting back to camp? Please? ”
Trying to find her nerve to keep moving, she took a slow step forward the red neoprene coated flashlight sweeping across the ground as she kept an eye out for her pack of dropped Kleenex. Like a modern day Hansel and Gretel but she had no bread crumbs.
“I wouldn’t.” She finally sighed. “Sacrifice you I mean. I wouldn’t. And not for any noble reason either, so don’t even start. I would do it because I need to be able to look at myself in the mirror every day and not feel like a crappy human being. It’s for my piece of mind.”
SANTANA: It was annoying to her that Rachel couldn't even suspend their already awful reality and talk about the wholesome act of sacrificing people to save their own skin. They were bombarded with questions like these all the time, but what they didn't know back home was that there was potential for a sacrificial incident now more than ever before.
She had to reel her thoughts back in and focus. There would be no sacrificing that night, or any other nights for that matter.
"Huh," is all she could think of to reply when Rachel told her that she wouldn't be down to have a guilty conscious. "If you say so." She prodded Rachel along after that, letting the silence fall over them once more.
When Rachel's light slid over something that scurried away at the exposure, Santana jumped, grabbing the back of Rachel's jacket again.
"Are their rats everywhere in Scotland?" she asked, almost breathless from the scare.
I'm done with all this sitting around suspense crap. You said I should record myself snooping, so grab your camera, Lips. Let's go.
Sam dropped what he was doing and looked up at the brunette. “I was about to make s’mores!” One look from Santana was all it took to get him moving though. He put his supplies back in his bag and grabbed one of his cameras. “Okay, let’s do this.” This seemed like it was asking for trouble, but they did need some more shots of inside the house.
"S'mores can be your present if we survive," she said dryly with a shrug, shifting her weight from foot to foot, anxiously waiting for Sam to be ready. Her hand moved back to touch her own backpack, subconsciously making sure she had her med kit. When he was up and ready, Santana nodded and started walking away from the camp, taking the faint path that led towards the house. "Have you gotten anything good yet?" she asked, her eyes trained forward with a glint of both determination and mischief. If there was trouble to be had, she knew she would eventually find it.
If you’re going to do that, make sure someone else is with you. Rachel and I were talking… and both of us agree that we shouldn’t walk off on our own at the moment.
Yeah, yeah. The buddy system. You'd think we were at summer camp and not this frigid hell hole. Really takes you back to childhood, doesn't it? Monsters under the bed and everything.
