Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

TWs: Cursing

Logan walked along with the rest of his group as they toured the Sorrel Weed House with the newly opened spot that had magically opened up just as they were passing. His eyes flitted from one corner to the other, anxiety lining his posture. His fingers moved in front of him, fidgeting with the same mechanical pencil he always had on him.

“You okay there?” Taylor Hernandez said with a grin as she fell into step beside him, “You lookin’ a little anxious.” She swung an arm around his shoulders, causing him to shrink in on himself.

“I-I’m okay,” He stammered as his gaze landed on Taylor's tanned face.

Tyler Hernandez (Yes, their twins) looked back at him, “Don’t tell me you're scared.” He scowled, his tone condescending.

“Tyler,” Taylor huffed, “Don’t be a meanie.”

“Don’t blame me, Logan’s the wimp."

Logan felt Taylor unhook herself from his shoulders as he zoned out their bickering. It's not that he was scared, just… cautious.

He looked over his shoulder towards Ashlyn. The red-haired girl had a pair of black earplugs in and a mindless look on her face. Logan frowned slightly before turning back to the space in front of him, and Logan sighed in relief when he saw it was now empty of the twins, as Tyler was now walking beside Ben, and Taylor was chatting with Aiden about what their tour guide was pointing out.

They continued through the empty hallways till their guide’s phone started ringing.

“Sorry, I have to take this. Emergency,” She huffed quickly before scooting off to who knows where.

Logan narrowed his eyes at her figure disappearing through a doorway in the hall that had a ‘Staff only’ label at the front.

“That was professional," Tyler grunted.

“I don’t think it was,” Logan said, clutching his camera and tilting his head at where their guide disappeared.

Tyler scoffed, “I was being sarcastic.”

“Oh,” Logan looked down with embarrassment.

“Eh, an emergency, an emergency,” Taylor shrugged, “It’ll be more fun to explore on our own anyway.”

They continued to mosey along the old house, stopping to look at anything that piqued their interest. Logan stayed at the back of the group along with Ashlyn and Ben, while Aiden, Tyler, and Taylor skipped on ahead.
After wandering around for a while, they ended up close to where they started, in a dusty hallway.

Logan gazed over his shoulder to where Ashlyn was trailing behind them. She had a pale, almost fear-stricken face. He frowned, but tried to think nothing of it and turned back to the group to continue walking with them.

After a few moments of chatting and looking through rooms they were probably not supposed to be in, Logan turned back to where Ashlyn was, jumping at the sight of something… unexpected. A shadow loomed over her with an unpleasant grin plastered over its face, and pale white eyes void of any emotions.

“U-uh, guys?” Logan's voice wavered, fear evident in his eyes as he backed away from the girl, one hand brushing his side, which was covered by his blue turtleneck, and the other clutching the camera between his fingers.
The group turned, and confusion quickly gave way to fear as they stared at the spot where Logan was gazing.

“A-Ashlyn…” Logan stammered, mouth agape with fear and startlement.
Ashlyn looked up, puzzlement clear in her eyes.
“Behind you…”

She whipped around to face the creature, falling back onto the floor as she backed away from it.
Then it wasn’t there, gone with the wind, just like that. Disappearing into the shadows, never to be seen again (wink, wink)

“What was that…?” Logan startled, “I-I don’t see it anywhere.”
“What was that?” Taylor waved her hands around frantically, almost whacking Logan upside the head.

Aiden looked around the room with interest, “One of the ghosts, maybe?” He stated with a smile still plastered on his face.

Tyler snorted, “Are you guys dumb? Ghosts aren’t real. This is just some stupid prank.” He huffed, crossing his arms over his bright yellow shirt.
“A prank?” Taylor echoed.

“Obviously.” Logan shrank away from his gaze as Tyler surveyed the group. “A group conveniently cancels a reservation, and our guide just happens to have an excuse to leave?”

Logan couldn’t help but agree with Tyler; it was suspicious, but maybe not in the way the rest of the group was thinking.

Logan looked back to where Ashlyn was. He frowned when he found her still on the ground. As he walked closer to her, hand still at his side, he saw that she was holding her left arm close to her chest, a confused and afraid look on her face.

“Then, when we’re all alone in a ‘haunted’ house, we have a scary encounter.” Tyler continued his rant, “Then immediately after said ‘scary encounter’, the thing disappears before we can confirm or touch it?”

The twin scoffed, “Yeah, right, this is definitely some setup to make money on some shitty reaction video. They probably have cameras and a projector hidden somewhere.”

Tyler started to yell at the so-called ‘hidden cameras’ before dragging Taylor away, saying they were going back to the bus.

“A-ah wait…” Logan started, camera still clutched in one hand, but before he could continue, they were already out the door.

He sighed and turned back to the rest of the group. Aiden walked past him with Ben in tow, quickly walking after the twins.

Logan started to follow, but quickly turned back to Ashlyn to see she was on her feet but still clutching her arm, as if in pain. He grimaced before turning back to where the rest of the group had run off to.

Once they had gotten back to their respective rooms, Aiden, Tyler, Ben, and Logan were sitting all around the living room.

Logan, who was sitting at the table, fidgeted with a piece of film.

“Uh, guys…” he started, “When we were at Sorrel Weed House…” The rest of the group looked over to him, causing his nerves to spike, “I took a photo of the creature…”

Tyler snorted, looking up from his phone, “Sure you did. Whatever you took a picture of is what they wanted you to.” He said, rolling his eyes before getting up to walk out of the room, “I’m going to bed.”

Logan couldn't help but grit his teeth; there was just something about Tyler that rubbed him the wrong way.

Logan looked up just in time to see Aiden lean over him with Ben at his side, “Let’s see what this photo’s about.”

“Well, isn’t that strange,” He giggled, peering over Logan’s shoulder. “Ashlyn is standing alone there, but there are two shadows.”

Ben let out a huff and began to walk to his and Aiden’s bedroom.

“You going to bed?” The blonde asked.

Ben nodded, opening the door quickly before shutting it.

“Lol, he never did last very long. Always freaked out by these kinds of things.” Aiden chuckled.

“And you aren’t?” Logan started, side-eying the boy with suspicion.

“Nah,” Aiden picked up the film, looking down at it with a smile, “I find it pretty entertaining, even if it ends up fake.”

Logan sighed, putting a hand to his forehead.

“But honestly, if I were you, I would be worried about sharing a bed with
pine tre-” Aiden coughed, “I mean, Tyler.”

Logan groaned, “I’ll just sleep on the couch.”

I don’t want to take the chance of me strangling him in his sleep.

Chapter Text

Five Years Ago

Logan was walking home from school, a wavered smile plastered on his face. Justin, a brown-haired boy with cropped bangs and periwinkle eyes, moseyed next to him.
Logan looked over to the kid, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“You know,” Justin started, “Your dad kind of scares me.”

“What?” Logan puzzled, “Why?”

“I don’t know, just something about him screams, ‘Danger! Danger!’ You know?”

Logan didn’t know; he didn’t understand why some people were scared of his dad. He was a nice man, kind, broad-shouldered, and had a bright smile most of the time.

Logan shook his head, and Justin rolled his eyes, “Your mom’s also kind of weird,” he said, looking back at the boy with a bored expression.

Logan started at that.

“I mean, how come we never see her?”

“She’s just always busy, I guess…” Logan shrugged.

Justin huffed, “I’ll let you believe what you want.” He walked ahead as Logan slowed down.

They came to an intersection; Justin went right while Logan went straight ahead. They didn’t say goodbye to each other, nor did they wave or fist-bump, because they weren't friends, merely kids who happened to be in the same 5th-grade class.

Logan grimaced as he watched the boy leave, a strange feeling festering in his chest.

As he continued to walk home, that feeling never left; it only grew, like gasoline to a dying fire. The feeling became almost overwhelming as he shakily stepped towards his house in the distance. It was a nice house, red brick walls with modern trimming and a bright blue door in the front with windows lining the edges.
It was as if he could hear the cries of innocent victims coming from the entrance; the doors' sky-blue paint glittered in the shadows of the porch. Logan carefully stepped up to the door as unease raced through his entire body.

His hands shook as he lifted one to the nob; something was wrong, and he didn’t know why.

He was somehow able to twist the doorknob clockwise without completely failing; the door slowly creaked on its hinges as it opened up to a dark, almost vacant house.
“Mom?” Logan called out into the abyss. “Are-are you home?”

Silence.

She must be working. Logan thought, but the sense of dread never left him as he trudged through the house. His footsteps echoed in the empty rooms, the soft thudding of the soles against wood reaching the ears of no one in particular.

He threw his backpack onto the couch, the soft fabric connecting with the rough texture of the leather sofa. Logan looked around the living room, frowning as an interesting smell invaded his lungs.

It was almost metallic, like pennies in water, like blood. It reminded Logan of the time he had been sitting on his bed, playing with scissors, and accidentally cut his arm. Blood had leaked from the wound, filling the air with a coppery scent. It had scared him; he was only eight at the time, and he probably shouldn't have had the scissors in the first place.

“It’s okay.” His Mom had soothed when he ran to her, tears spilling from his eyes.

Logan had cried beside her as she wrapped his arm in a stiff bandage.

“It’ll be okay.” She had said, patting his head as she handed him a strawberry lollipop from the cabinet above the bathroom sink.

Logan signed as tears pricked his eyes. He didn’t know why he was crying. That was over two years ago, and he still had a scar over his left arm from the cut, and it had healed quickly, so why was he sad?

He brushed a finger over the miscolored skin with a frown before shaking his head. Logan then quickly decided to walk over to the bathroom we had mentioned previously, opening the door with a click and grabbing a small lollipop from the cabinet above. The one he had picked was banana and strawberry flavored. He contemplated for a moment before popping the sucker in his mouth and making his way out of the bathroom.

He could imagine the voice of his mother piercing his ears as he stepped into the room, her sweet, yet commanding voice doing miracles on his father. Logan thought of her sitting on the edge of his bed, folding different colors of shirts and pants. But no, he did not see her happily smiling at him with a shining grin, no, what Logan saw instead was something horrid, something unkin to anything he had expected.

“Mom,” He whispered feebly into a room stained with crimson.

It wasn’t a question, for he knew it was his mother; he knew that the body lying lifelessly on the red-stained carpet below was the woman he had loved so dearly.
Logan opened his mouth but couldn’t find the mind to speak; instead, he simply fell forward onto the carpet, his face beginning to become streaked with tears.

He didn’t even try to make a cry for help, to lunge for the phone he knew was just sitting in the kitchen, waiting for him to call… wait, who would Logan call anyway? His father never answered his calls during a workday, his mother was lying dead in front of him, and he couldn’t call the authorities. He would be taken away from his father, Logan knew it; they would deem it unsafe for him to stay any longer with the man after he’d left Logan alone for so many hours.

Logan knew his mother wasn’t even supposed to be home; he knew she was meant to be at work, along with his father. He had gotten home to an empty house many times enough that he was accustomed to it. Logan had only called out into the house because he had desperately wanted one of his parents to call back to him, to greet him at the door, and ask how his day was.

Now that would never happen, because he would be taken from his father, and his mother was lying dead on the floor of his room. Even though he didn’t want to, Logan looked back at her body, noticing something he hadn’t before: a gun.

It was lying just within his mother's reach, close enough that her fingers were brushing the handle. Logan didn’t dare pick up the pistol, too afraid of the object that put a bullet through his mother's head.

So, he didn’t move, not an inch closer to the body; instead, he backed into the corner of his room, curling into a helpless ball of insecurities and anxiety.
And he cried. He cried, cried, cried till his tears ran dry. But he wasn’t done. He screamed, he screamed for the longest time until his throat gave out, but even then, he didn’t stop, he kept on screaming till his voice was gone and he could no longer express his grief to the world.

Logan could only sit in that corner with the body of his mother at his side, blood slowly staining the carpet red as his gaze fell, unseeing, towards her empty, voided eyes.

He sat there for so long, he didn’t know how long, but it felt like eternity. It felt like he was there for forever, till a sound of a click interrupted his aimless staring.
Logan didn’t look up as footsteps echoed through the deserted hallways. He heard someone's voice but didn’t fully comprehend what they were saying, then he heard crying, it was loud and obnoxious, and he almost wanted to snap at the person to shut up, but he didn’t because Logan knew why he was crying. Because he had loved her just as much as Logan had.

Chapter Text

TWs: Firearms/Guns, Gun Shots, Cursing, Violence, Not Sleeping, Mentions of Bullying, Screaming, Aiden Being a Psychopath

Present Time

Logan couldn’t sleep; all he could do was stare up at the ceiling, eyes wandering through dark shadows engulfing the corners of the room. He sighed and shifted his legs to hang off the couch. Logan huffed as he got up and walked over to the wooden table where his phone sat on the edge.

Picking it up, he internally groaned at what the clock read: 11:50 pm. The boy has always had trouble sleeping, but no matter how much he tossed and turned or how many sleeping pills he took, he could never just fall asleep.

Logan soon turned back to the sofa, sitting on it while rubbing his eyes. He turned to lie on his back, kicking up his feet and resting his head on a soft white pillow he had gotten from Mr. Thomas. Logan grabbed the blanket that he threw off of him and pulled it over his body, and he reached under the blanket by his chest, looking for the thing that he always kept on him.

His fingers felt for the handle of the small object, and, placing his glasses on the edge of the makeshift bed, he let his left hand grip the gun. A smile fell onto his lips as he clutched it with calloused hands.

He didn’t care how some people felt about a minor carrying around a pistol like that; he needed it, he almost craved it, the feeling of the soft leather handle in his fingers always brought comfort.

If only Barren knew what he carried around with him, maybe then he wouldn’t be picked on, maybe he could escape the endless taunting and beatings. Logan soon felt his eyes drift shut, the thought of sleep finally embracing him with open arms, and even if it was filled with nightmares, even if its smile never reached its eyes, Logan happily let it wrap itself around him.

~~~~

A scream cut through the air, causing Logan to jolt up in his sleep, whipping out his pistol that was hidden under the covers. He jolted it around the room, but it landed on nothing in particular. He quickly flung the blanket off his legs, looking around with caution while still gripping the gun.

Swinging his legs off the couch, Logan grabbed his glasses and, still brandishing the weapon, hesitantly made his way around the room to the table where he quickly grabbed his jacket and flung it over his shoulders. He hadn’t worn it yesterday when they were exploring Savanna, but now decided it was cold enough outside at night that he might need it. It was also good to hide the firearm he carried about, because Logan suspected that most of the people here might not take too kindly to a fifteen-year-old carrying around a gun.

He silently clipped the pistol to the inside of his jacket as the door to Aiden’s and Ben's room opened with a click.

“Did anyone else hear screaming?” Aiden called from the doorway with a much too wide smile.

Ben showed up behind him, a tired and almost dead look across his face.

Then the door to Tyler's room suddenly swung open with a thud as it smacked against Aiden’s face. “Taylor!” He yelled before lunging and opening the doorway out of the motel room, running over to the girls' room. Leaving Aiden with his face smashed into the wood, blood running from his nose.

“Ow,” He somehow said with a smile.

Logan quickly ran after Tyler, keeping a hand on his gun, but out of view of anyone behind or in front of him.

They quickly reached the room Taylor and Ashlyn were staying in for the night. Logan tightened his grip on the pistol, ready to pull it out as the girls ran out of their room, Taylor running towards her brother with a shout, and Ashlyn literally running anywhere else but back into their room.

“Oh, so it was them. Why are you running?” Aiden said from beside Logan.

“Yeah, what's going on?” Tylor yelled as he clutched Taylor in a hug.

“Something’s in the-” Ashlyn started, but cut herself off as she turned around to face the doorway to the rooms.

It was a shadow in the room, only its face was completely visible to the group. The rest of its body hidden behind the wall, blocking their view of how big it really was. It had a creepy smile, one of which that would haunt your dreams for the rest of your life, even creeping into your mind when you're not asleep, but it would always be there. The spots of white where its eyes would be followed the group's movements; keeping an eye on each twitch of muscle, on every blink, and every breath.

“Go-” Ashlyn started, backing away from the shadow.

Then, it lunged.

“Go go go!” She yelled with desperation as they ran as fast as they could out of the room, slamming the door shut behind them as the creature rammed its full body force into it, causing everyone to brace against the door for a bit longer before stepping back as it continued to scratch at the wood.

“What-what is that thing?” Logan shivered as he pulled the coat further around him, finally letting go of the pistol that had been gripped to near breaking in his fingers. (Not that he actually could, but he liked to think he was strong enough.)

Aiden smiled, “According to Tyler, that would be the ‘prank’ from earlier.”

Tyler glared at the fake blond before his staring match was interrupted by Taylor.

“Ah!” She exclaimed, “Sarah and Emma are still in there!” She whipped her head around as Tyler let go of his vise-like grip on her shoulders.

“I don’t think they are. They would have come out of their room, or at least yelled,” Ashlyn reassured the Burnett.

Aiden looked around the outside of the motel. “Actually,” he started, “Now that you mention it, Ash, it’s kind of weird no one has come out after all the screaming and banging.”

Logan could tell Ashlyn was annoyed at the nickname, but she didn’t say anything as they had more important things to worry about. Such as the handle to the girls’ room clicking and wiggling till the door started to creak open.

Logan took a step back, shifting his right hand to be back to the gun as Ben quickly slammed the door shut, sweat dripping from his forehead as he pressed his body to it, keeping the handle from wiggling out of his grasp.

“Well, that could’ve been bad!” Aiden said cheerfully.

“Could’ve been bad?!” Tyler turned to Aiden, gritting his teeth. “The sky’s red for fucks sake!” He yelled, looking like he was going to punch the boy in his teeth.

“And there are fucking monsters chasing after us in the middle of the fucking night! Stop acting like this is some fucking joke!” Tyler’s glare seemed to cut through the air as his gaze followed Aiden's movements.

“Uh, guys…”

“This,” Tyler gestured around them, “Is not some damn dream, so stop acting like nothing is real, because everything is fucking real!” (A/N It’s not that deep, Ty.)
“Guys!”

“You’re the one who called it a ‘prank’ back in the Sorrel Weed House.” Aiden shot back, his grin never faltering.

“You psycho-”

“Guys!”

Both Aiden and Tyler turned to where Taylor was standing near the railing of the motel, facing outwards into the courtyard. The others of the group were also facing where Taylor's eyes were trained, fear-stricken expressions on their faces.
It was the shadows, so many of them, and they were all staring at them.

Ashlyn stared with terror lining her face, “How far away is your room?” Her voice shook as she asked Aiden the question, but did not take her eyes off the shadows.

“About five or six doors down,” Aiden answered with a seemingly forced smile.

The shadows were running towards the kids with increased vigor to capture their prey.

“Aiden,” Ashlyn suddenly spoke up. “Give me your short strings.”

“Kay, why?” Aiden puzzled, handing them to the redhead as she untied her own.

“I have an idea,” She started. “I’m going to tie the door to the pole over there.”

“Two weak, shabby poles?” Tyler asked, an incredulous look on his face. “Yeah, like that's going to keep it closed.”

Ashlyn began to step closer to the door, “Maybe not, but it’ll stay shut long enough for me and Ben to make a run for it.” She looked over to them, “You guys go.”

The shadows were gaining. Nobody moved.

“I said go!” Ashlyn snapped.

They ran, Tyler holding Taylor's hand and rushing forward, but Aiden stayed behind. (A/N Aiden, you psychopath) He helped Ashlyn tie the strings to the pole and doorknob before she shouted, “Run!”

And they ran. The strings quickly snapped, and a flood of shadows came out of the doorway and were quickly gaining. Something caught Ashlyn’s eye, a cleaning cart left by one of the staff. She skittered to a halt and grabbed the cart, whipping it around to slam the shadow against the wall.

“Ha-” Aiden started. “Y’know,” He pushed in front of Ashlyn and grabbed the shadow's hand, pushing one of the cleaning bottles against its head. “This could be fun.”

He sprayed its eye. Ben and Aiden couldn’t hear it scream, but Ashlyn could. She covered her ears as Aiden backed up, looking disappointed. “Lol, why didn’t it scream?”

Ashlyn gritted her teeth, “Aiden, come on!”

“I think we can take them, there's more bottles-”

“NO!”

They sprinted forward, with Ben’s hand wrapped around Aiden's wrist to make sure he didn’t go rogue.

“I see them!” Tyler called from the open door of his, Logan’s, Aiden’s, and Ben's room.

The rest of the group quickly sprinted inside, slamming their body against the wood as the shadows started to scratch at it.

“We should put the couch up against the door,” Ashlyn suggested, a fear-stricken expression on her face.

Once they had moved the sofa to block the path of the shadows, they sat down on the ground of the room, shaking in fear as the sounds of the creatures scratching ceased.

“Wait,” Tyler suddenly looked up. “Where’s Logan?”

BANG! BANG!