New house, new adventures.
Tommy is keen on moving to an old house that his family had troubles selling. What can go wrong? After all, he has his best friend at his side.
It's going to be great!
Those old buildings always hide a treasure inside, rig...
Tommy calmed down the following day, but he didn't want to explain anything to Tubbo. He just brushed it off, saying he just saw a rat. It was a big fucking rat, thought crossed Phil's mind. He was still saddened by what he had seen. He didn't deserve it. None of them did. But there was nothing he could do about it.
Right now he could only look after Tommy and Tubbo. He really liked them and hoped that his son wouldn't scare them away. It was bad enough that he nearly gave the taller boy trauma and concussion. What were they doing anyway? They were both upstairs, that he was sure. It wasn't raining anymore, but the area was so muddy there was no point in going out - they'd have to wait for the sun.
Tommy was sitting in his room getting absolutely paranoid. Suddenly everything made sense! Food appearing out of nowhere, things falling off the shelves, flickering lights or weird sensations of touch. This place was haunted! They lived with a fucking ghost! Yeah, he thought it would be exciting, but after yesterday? He wanted none of that! The real question is: how many ghosts were living here? Tommy figured two: that fucking shit from the basement and something hanging out with them in the kitchen. The second one seemed safe: for now he only helped Tubbo with cooking or found a few solutions for their problems. And probably… it was the thing that Tommy felt after he escaped that beast. Those warm hands. Yeah, he didn't seem dangerous. Right? Or maybe he was playing the long game? Gaining their trust to back stab them?! Possibilities were endless!
While Tommy was agonizing over the whole ghost situation, clueless Tubbo was cheerfully preparing cleaning supplies to finally wash that bucket hat. It took him over a week to do so, so he figured out that the hat had waited long enough. At this point he just needed to pick it up from downstairs.
Phil rose his head, looking from under the brim as Tubbo happily skipped down the stairs. It was nice knowing that at least one of the boys was having a good day… Phil was sure he would go to the kitchen for some snacks as it was too early to start reheating yesterday's leftovers, but Tubbo went in a completely different direction: to his room. It surprised him, but figured that he just came to give back his blanket. But no… Tubbo returned with… his hat! Philza's wings shot right open as the boy just passed him and ran up the stairs. But before he could do anything he felt a shock running down his spine, paralyzing him for a second. But the pain was gone soon, leaving Phil breathless, if you could say that about a ghost. What… what had happened? Man slowly stood up, his legs still both stiff and wobbly, trying to get to the stairs. He looked up them, but the boy was nowhere in sight. He must have already runned to one of the rooms. Phil raised his hand, placing it on the invisible barrier that stairs where. One thing that forbids him from doing up there.
But… his hand met nothing. Barrier was… gone. He slowly took one step. Nothing. Another one. He was going up, with no problems. As if he was always able to do that! He could feel his heart fluttering as he placed his hand on the handrail. It was so long… step by step he was slowly going up, not sure what to expect. Does he even remember what the second floor used to look like? Or will he see his son again? Will he be able to touch him? So many questions and doubts… but he waited so long for this to happen, why was he waiting more?
The hall was empty, more that he felt than it should be. He just didn't know what was missing… Tubbo was in the bathroom, happily scrubbing his hat in the sink, humming some catchy song. Phil smiled, knowing that his treasure was in good hands. What would he do without those kids anyway?
Next one… was his son's room. His heart dropped, but he opened the door anyway. It hadn't changed at all, Phil slightly smiled. He didn't remember it, but felt it was right. Those music sheets… his son wrote them with a dream of becoming a famous musician. He was splendid… but some of them were written for something else. Like those one for piano and violin. Yes, it resonated with his memories… they used to sit down, late in the evening and play together, all three of them. Phil… he played the piano.
Sadly his son wasn't there. Philza wanted to talk to him or at least hug him, give him a sign that he still cares and loves him. But the room was empty. Only thing left to check was his guitar. But it also vanished. Phil had a feeling that he would find it in Tubbo's room.
And he wasn't mistaken. It was laying on his bed, strings removed and new ones waiting to be replacement. Phil smiled, looking at the room. Tubbo sure loved bees and he found it adorable. Only thing that confused him was the gear on the desk, but what can you say? Stationary computer was fine, but he had never seen a laptop in his life. How did it work? Phil decided not to mandle with an electrical object and slowly moved to the next room.
Tommy was sitting by his desk, chaotically making many notes of what he found on the internet. Salt, white sage, holy water… where the fuck would he get holy water? Go to church and steal it from baptismal font? Like hell he would do that! He had no time for trips to church, he had to act quickly! Before one of them gets possesed!
And then the lights started to flicker, and after that screen just turned off.
He wasn't alone, he could feel it.
- I know you're in here, ghost! If you want to hurt me, just do it and don't try to fool me!- he shrieked, unsure of his surroundings. It could be anywhere right?
And then he saw it. In reflection on his computer screen.
It wasn't human. It was a man, but he had deer antlers and dark wings as big as him. Feathers were growing from his forearms and cheeks, ears were completely covered in them, creating pointed tip. Top half of his face, covered with shadows of his bucket hat, was pitch black slowly fading into normal skin colour. But even with those drastic changes Tommy could recognise that face.
- Uncle… Phil?
———— Since I can't write, I draw ㄟ(￣▽￣ㄟ) came out a little chunky though, my bad
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