Archive of Our Own ^beta

                It was Halloween night and Albert DaSilva and his friends were out terrorizing the neighborhood. They didn’t trick-or-treat, but they did dress up and walk around the neighborhood. (Elmer insisted that it was basically taking candy from little kids, but the others just didn’t want to do it anymore.) Elmer was dressed adorably as a puppy, Finch lost a bet and had to dress up as a bird, Mush was a zombie, Kid Blink was (creatively) a pirate, and Albert simply wore regular clothing. If anyone asked why he didn’t dress up, he said he did. If they asked what he was dressed as he would tell them it was a secret. As they ventured throughout the streets, Albert came to a stop in front of an old abandoned house.

                “What are you looking- Oh. That’s creepy.” Mush frowned.

                “Hey, you know what they say about this house, right?” Blink grinned as he walked up to the other two.

                “What?” Mush asked.

                “They say that it’s haunted.”

                “A creepy abandoned house?  Haunted? Never would’ve guessed.” Finch muttered sarcastically as he fought with his sloppily made beak.

                Blink rolled his eyes. “Shut up. Legend says that in the house you can find a box of cards and a bunch of dice just laying around.”

                “That has to be the worst urban legend I’ve ever heard.” Elmer folded his arms over his chest.

                “Legend also says that everything in that house is covered in dust, except for that box and the dice.”

                “…As in they’re covered by a magical barrier or as in someone constantly moves them?” Mush shifted his position.

                “As in someone constantly moves them. Supposedly, if you try to move them, something either stops you or you just can’t force yourself to do it.”

                “Bullshit.” Finch scoffed.

                “Go in there and try to move them, then.” Blink raised an eyebrow.

                “What? Me? No!”

                “Why not?”

                “Because it’s…old. The floorboards might fall in.”

                “Uh-huh.”

                “I ain’t lying! I ain’t getting injured because your dumbass heard an urban legend.”

                While they argued back and forth, Albert scaled the fence. As he walked, he kept his attention on the house. It didn’t look very threatening to him. It just looked like a regular old house to him. It didn’t creep him out or scare him in any way. In fact, there was something drawing him closer. He made his way up the creaky doorsteps, then pushed open the groaning front door and closed it back once he was inside. The stench of rotting wood filled the air, but there was something else mixed in with it. Albert couldn’t place the smell. He walked down the narrow hallway with no cares like it was his own home. He nearly fell on his face when his shoe caught on a loose board, but he quickly caught his balance. The staircase that led upstairs was destroyed, so he decided to just explore the bottom floor. First, he headed into a room on the right.

                The room wasn’t much different from the hallway. It was bare, but Albert couldn’t shake the sudden feeling that something else was there….that someone else was there. He whipped out his phone and turned on his flashlight for more lighting, but he couldn’t find anything out of place. He moved on. The next room he went in looked identical to the other one, except for the fact that there was a wooden table in the center of it. On the table sat a box of playing cards and a few dice. He quickly made his way to the table. Upon further inspection, the table was coated in layers of dust, but there wasn’t a speck on any of the items, just like Blink had said. He bit his lip and tilted his head in curiosity. Hesitantly, he pulled one of his hands out of his pockets and reached outward toward the box of cards. Unlike Blink had said, he didn’t feel inclined to pull back. He didn’t feel or see anyone trying to stop him either. He grabbed the box. He almost expected the ceiling to fall down on top of him, but nothing happened. He shrugged and opened the box. That’s when something happened. The unidentifiable smell strengthened. In fact, that was all he could smell. It was almost like…

                “No one’s ever done that before.” A shocked voice said right in his ear. Albert nearly jumped out of his skin. “Shit! Didn’t mean to scare ya.” In front of him stood a boy who seemed to be around his age. He had curly blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and he looked very dirty. However, it could’ve just been makeup. It was Halloween, after all.

                “You’re alright. Hey, what do you mean ‘no one’s ever done that before’?” Albert chuckled, trying to get his heart rate back to normal.

                “No one’s ever picked that up an’ opened it. I mean, people has tried, but they ain’t actually done it.”

                “Ah, right. The legend.” Albert wiggled his fingers dramatically.

                “Hey, it’s true. I ain’t got a clue where people got the ‘somethin’ stopped them’ part because I sure as hell hasn’t done nothin’.” The boy threw up his hands and walked over to the dice, then picked them up and passed them from hand to hand.

                “Heh. I’m Albert. What’s your name?” Albert questioned.

                “Racetrack. That’s what my friends called me, anyway.”

                “’Called?’ What happened?”

                “I died.” Race responded nonchalantly.

                “Ah.” Albert slowly nodded, obviously not believing the other boy.

                “What, ya don’t believe me? Here, hold out your hand.”

                Albert narrowed his eyes, then did as he was told. Race reached out to shake Albert’s hand, but it phased right through it. Albert’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He tried to put his hands on Race’s shoulders but they just went right through him.

                “So, you’re really dead, huh?” Albert sounded more intrigued than scared or surprised.

                “Yep.” Race tossed the dice back onto the table and sat down on the edge.

                “What’s it like?”

                “What’s it like bein’ dead? It’s kind of lonely if I’m bein’ honest with myself. No one really comes ‘round until Halloween, this bein’ a haunted house an’ all. Sometimes people into creepy shit will pay a visit. Not everyone can see me, though. Only some people can. Don’t ask me why, ‘cause I have no damn clue. No one has ever picked that up, though.”

                “What stops people from picking it up?”

                “Themselves, mostly. Fear of what might happen. I sure ain’t doin’ shit, and the last time I checked, I’m the only dead guy in this dump. On a different note, if it’s Halloween, why isn’t you dressed up?” Race looked Albert up and down.

                “Oh, I am.”

                “You’s dressed in normal clothes. What’s you supposed to be?”

                A grin spread across Albert’s face. “It’s a secret.”

                “A secret? Albie, who am I gonna tell?” Race laughed.

                “Okay, alright. I’m a serial killer.” Albert waited for the expected response.

                “A serial killer? You don’t-”

                “I don’t look like one? That’s the thing. Serial killers look just like everyone else.” Albert smirked, obviously proud of himself.

                “You’s clever, Al. How old are ya?” Race chuckled.

                “Sixteen. You?” Albert put the cards down on the table.

                “That depends. What year is it? 2017?”

                “You’re off one. It’s 2018.”

                “Damn. I was born in 1883. I died when I was sixteen, so that’s why I looks so young an’ handsome, but I’m really…” Race trailed off and started counting on his fingers.

                “One hundred nineteen.”

                “How’d you do that so fast?” Race pouted slightly. Albert held up his cell phone in response. “Ah, cell phones. The techy stuff just gets techy-er every year.”

                “Yeah, it does. Sometimes it’s hard for me to keep up with.”

                Race chuckled, then went silent. He bit his lip, looked Albert up and down, then moved over to a window and looked outside. “I had a friend that looked a lot like you. None of us ever knew his real name. We just called him Red, ‘cause he had the reddest hair any of us had ever seen. Red DaSilva.”

                Albert froze in his spot. “My last name is DaSilva.”

                Race whipped around. “You’s bullshittin’ me.”

                “Swear on my life.” Albert put his right hand over his heart and his left hand out to his side.

                Race’s eyes narrowed and he quickly made his way back over to Albert. He tried to pull the hat off of his head, but his hands just went through it. He sighed in frustration. “Can you…?” Albert took the hat off. It was just as Race had described. “Holy shit. You’s a spittin’ image.” A small smile spread across his face and a few tears rolled down his cheeks. Albert got the sudden urge to wipe them away, even though he knew he couldn’t. “Sorry, I’s a mess.” Race turned away and went back to his window.

                “Hey, don’t apologize. Your friend…what was he like?” Albert cautiously joined him.

                “Oh god, he was somethin’ else. He liked to steal my cigars. Sometimes I think he did it just to see what I would do. He touched all of us, but he didn’t like bein’ touched. It was kind of confusin’, but we didn’t make him feel uncomfortable once we figured it out. He sure as hell didn’t tell us about it himself. The only person he really let touch him was his boyfriend Sunny. None of us knew his real name either. We called him Sunny because he was basically a walkin’ talkin’ ball of sunshine. We was newsboys. Some of us was girls, but it was mostly boys. There was a whole assload of us. There was me, Red, Sunny, Cowboy, Mouth, Finch, Smalls, Kid Blink, Sniper, Tommy Boy, Mush, an’ the list goes on.”

                Albert was so focused on the nostalgic look on Race’s face that he almost didn’t catch the names. “Did…Did you say Finch? And Blink? And Mush? And-”

                “Hold on. Don’t tell me you’s got a Patrick Cortes runnin’ around.” Race narrowed his eyes.

                “He’s outside.”

                “No way!”

                “Yes, way! Come on, I’ll show you!” Albert hopped and took off running. He ran out of the building and only stopped when he realized Race wasn’t with him. He quickly went back inside. “Race? Why aren’t you coming?”

                Race leaned against the wall of the hallway. “I can’t leave. Literally. I’m tied to this place.”

                Albert frowned and looked down at his shoes as he thought. There was no way he was going to convince his friends to come inside. Wait. Friends. The legend. “Ghosts are usually tied to things they care about, right?”

                “Hell if I know.” Race shrugged.

                Albert held up a finger, then shoved his head outside the door. “Hey, Blink! Ghosts are usually tied to things they care about, right!?” He exclaimed.

                “Yeah!” Blink shouted back. “Why!?”

                “You’ll see!” Albert brought his head back in. “Does this building mean anything to you?”

                “Not really. I just died here.”

                Albert smirked and ran back to the room. He came back with the cards in one hand and the dice in the other. “Do these mean anything to you?”

                “Yeah. They mean a lot.”

                “Good. Follow me.” He carefully put the items in his pockets and went back outside. This time, he held the door open for Race.

                “Albie, I told you I can’t.”

                “Do you trust me?” Albert smirked.

                “I just met you. But…for some reason, I do.”

                “Alright, then come on.”

                Race huffed exasperatedly and stomped out of the building. Keywords: “out of the building.” Race’s eyes widened and he immediately looked over at Albert. Albert smiled at him and nodded. Race took a deep breath and made his way down the steps. Slowly but surely, they made it to Albert’s group of friends.

                “Boys, I’d like to introduce you to my friend Racetrack.”

***

                “So, let me get this straight. This guy is bound to that deck of cards and those dice. Said guy had friends that looked exactly like us. And had our names.” Blink rubbed his temples.

                “Yes, Blink. For the five hundredth times since yesterday, yes.” Finch groaned.

                It was the day after Halloween and they were all in school, including Race.

                “I’m just trying to wrap my head around this!”

                “Wrap faster. You’re the expert on this shit around here.”

                “I read stories, Finch! Those are different! This is real!” Blink then turned to Racetrack. “So, what are we? Doppelgangers?”

                “Doppel-who?” Race questioned, his eyebrows creased in confusion.

                “Aren’t doppelgangers evil?” Mush asked.

                “Depends on the myth, honestly. You see-”

                Blink was cut off by the teacher clearing her throat to get everyone’s attention. “Alright, everyone. We have a new student today.” She smiled at someone standing in the doorway. The person slowly walked in and waved at everyone.

                “Hey. I’m Anthony Higgins.” He introduced himself, then waited for the instruction to sit down.

                Race gaped. “Holy. Fucking. Shit.”