Chapter Text
“From what I’ve been able to find, the house was built in 1866 by Union General Abraham Margolin for his wife Josephine. Abe served at Fort Hoskins and came home to create this masterpiece for his lovely bride.” Devendra, Small Town Haunt’s resident history expert, gestured widely at the house behind him. He wore a knowing smile and a sharply pressed shirt, having freshly come from town hall where he had been pulling any and all records of the house in the woods. “They’d been married for some years already, actually, but war does tend to throw a wrench into many plans.” Dev shrugged in an “oh well” way and adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “Two years later, they welcomed a daughter, but the records show evidence of a legal name change about eight years after that. This was…” Dev paused for a moment as though trying to find the words. He was a better actor than the crew gave him credit for, as they all knew he’d known exactly what he was going to say from the moment he found this information. “It was extremely progressive for the time. Truly extraordinary.”
Behind the camera, Blake’s nose was itching. He tried his hardest not to sneeze or move to alleviate the feeling, but the look on his face must have been enough to derail Dev, as he cracked into a grin a moment after speaking and called “cut!”
Charlie was standing directly behind them, and when Blake lowered the camera and sneezed violently, she teased “what’s up Basinger, ghost got your nose or something?”
Blake was far from impressed. He had gotten into this business thanks to a natural talent for angles and a boyfriend obsessed with the supernatural. Now all he had of that was the camera talent. “Shut up.” He half-jokingly retorted, rubbing his nose before picking the bulky camera back up and settling it comfortably on his shoulder. “Dev, keep going. I want to get this completely shot before we even step foot in that place.”
Dev continued with his spiel as Charlie lounged back against the hood of his car, amused at Blake’s attempt at her job. Malek, Ben, and Phoebus were all scattered about the grounds of the charred home, toying with equipment way too expensive to be toyed with and trying to coax whatever ghost Sara was convinced was there out of hiding. Ari and Parker were helping Tyler with his own camera, which had been on the fritz as of late. They’d never had an issue with it before the Travel Channel contract, but they all had seemed to chalk it up to divine intervention (read: spirit intervention) telling them it needed to be replaced with that first hefty paycheck.
“In 1877 the Margolins welcomed another little girl. Records say they lived in the house until Abe and Josie died in 1886 after their carriage flipped one night.” Dev shook his head sadly. “Dallas, the older child, was eighteen. Hazel was only nine.
“From there Dallas took over as guardian. Records show he was a botanist, and from what we can see if we look around this corner-” Dev led Blake and the camera around the side of the house as he spoke and stilled again once positioned perfectly for Blake to get him on one side and the amazing rusted structure panned out behind him. “He worked from home. This was once his greenhouse. Imagine it filled with plants from all over the world, hanging from the rafters and doused in sunlight.” Devendra looked over his shoulder at the gilded iron and sparse panes of glass as though he were reminiscing from personal memory, a fond smile on his face. “Now, we haven’t yet been inside, but from what you can see here it looks like nothing escaped the fire of 1888 intact.”
He turned back to the camera now, emotion somber, and clasped his hands in front of his body. “No one knows how the fire itself started, but we do know it happened in the middle of the night. We can only guess both Dallas and Hazel were home, though no bodies were ever found.”
Malek wandered into the frame with that, coming to pause beside Dev and watch him with rapt attention as though he didn’t already know all of this. “We’re hoping these two are the ghosts the owner called about,” Mal explained as he turned to the camera with an easy smile, a dimple forming on the side where his lip was higher. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and Abe and Josie will also be here.”
Picking up smoothly where Malek left off, Dev finished “there’ve been reports throughout the years - mostly from teenagers - of sudden temperature drops, smells of burning flesh, and overwhelmingly sounds. People have heard steps being taken, a little girl laughing… Singing, too, interestingly enough… We’re here to get to the bottom of it and maybe even help someone cross over. Thanks for joining us in Blue Crests, Oregon for the first episode of Small Town Haunts.”
He ended with a friendly smile and Blake cut the camera off. “Nice.” He offered the other with a quick high five - ignoring Malek completely - before heading back to the van where Tyler, Parker, and Ari were still tinkering with the other camera. “Intro’s done.” He glanced at the camera as he passed, setting his own down beside it. “Still acting up?”
Ari clicked the power button and the group watched as it turned on, loaded up the preview screen that they never used, and… stayed on. “Victory.” They grinned at their own ingenuity at however they had managed to fix it and fist bumped Parker. “Ty. Use this thing until it dies. Don’t turn it off, cause god knows how long it’ll take to turn back on if it does.”
“Understood.” Tyler picked the camera up and slung it onto his shoulder in one swift motion. He and Blake shared a long look before he leaned in, camera and all, and pressed his lips lightly to Blake’s cheek. “I’ll get Phoebus and Ben being idiots in the yard first. Nothing like ghostly shenanigans in broad daylight, yeah?” He was speaking to Charlie, who had also wandered over to the small gathering and was watching the pair of hosts over her shoulder, but his eyes hadn’t left Blake, who was fiddling idly with an EMF meter. “From what Sara told us,” Charlie responded as she looked away from Ben and Phoebus and gathered her hair into a rather large and fluffy ponytail, “they’ve actually been really active during daytime hours. Definitely see if they can find anything. Parker, do me a favor and make sure everyone has a walkie talkie? This forest is massive and you know all of us are stupid enough to get lost in a paper bag.”
With a nod and a quick two finger salute, Parker said “aye aye captain” and gathered up a handful of small machines. Ari and Blake each motioned to their own, already clipped to their hips, and Tyler pivoted on his heel to walk backward, holding a hand up and saying “hit me, P.” Parker didn’t hesitate to toss the receiver to him, and would admit that he was slightly impressed with how easily he caught it considering his camera weighed at least fifteen pounds. Tyler was both strong and agile. Everyone thought he was a darling, which really was true; especially with Blake, who was a little jaded to say the least. As he watched Ty turn back around and head toward Ben and Phoebus Parker thought about how glad he was Tyler had been there to pick up Blake’s broken shards after the Great Solhinger (their nickname for the volatile couple) Breakup of Last Year.
Snapping out of his daze as Charlie cleared her throat, Parker offered an embarrassed smile and hurried off to make sure everyone else had the two-ways they needed. “Ari,” Charlie turned her attention to the other tech person of their team, “I need you to make sure those three have EMFs and static meters. We’ll use the EVPs on the cameras for now, but make sure they have fresh batteries just in case. And bring Malek the SB7, please. He’s always the one with the most questions anyway. If he can get an answer in daylight who knows what we could find at night.”
“One step ahead of you.” Ari pointed out toward where Malek was fidgeting by the porch. They could both tell he was impatient and excited to get inside, though that wasn’t what Ari had been gesturing to. In his hand was the SB7, a specialized white noise distributor that assisted in making responses clearer when one of the boys asked a spirit a question. It was a request they had made upon writing up the Travel Channel contract, and the executive in charge of said contract, Wendy, had agreed wholeheartedly that they would be provided one. Why they hadn’t asked for a new camera for Tyler Charlie didn’t really know. She chalked it up to giddiness of getting a show and forgetting things they needed for things they wanted. Lesson learned. “Also, they all have their EMFs and statics. I’ll get the batteries in the EVPs though.”
Charlie sent a thankful smile to Ari, one of her favorite people on the team (not that she played favorites really). “It’s like you can read my mind. You sure you aren’t paranormal yourself?”
With a quick grin, Ari responded “the world may never know. Get over there before Malek has an aneurysm. He’s about to wet himself in anticipation.”
Following Ari’s sage advice, Charlie headed over to their resident ball of nerves. She saw Sara, the owner of the house, watching them both in her peripherals. “I can tell you’re ready to get started.” She gave him her best “soothing mom voice” and lay a hand on his bicep. “I promise you’ll get in there soon enough. Do me a favor, though? Go take a hit or something. Calm yourself down. Your jitters are giving me anxiety.”
Malek had glanced at Charlie when she materialized out of thin air, but had since gone back to looking up at the looming form of the brick house. “There’s something about this house.” He sighed, voice distant. “Something different. I can’t put my finger on it, but I need to get in there. Who’s my camera man?”
Malek had a terrible habit of going off by himself, but they had tried to split up the dynamic duo of Phoebus and Ben and the result had been a disastrous mess. Malek was more serious about what they did as compared to the joking and lighter nature of the other two, and despite the fact that they were all great friends and did enjoy working together, they occasionally bumped heads or irritated one another when they all tried to focus on the same task in the same place. It had become the norm for Malek to take a camera man and toddle off to the darkest, creepiest areas of the buildings they were in while the other two hosts stayed behind with the remaining camera man and shot footage in the lighter and less “murders happened here” parts. “I’ve got you with Blake today, but I know you’ve been on poor terms lately.” Malek and Blake could usually put aside their emotional breakup and on-again-off-again relationship for the sake of filming, but sometimes when their tempers flared - mostly Blake’s, and he was perfectly aware of that fact - they had to be separated. “If you two have any issues just come find me and I’ll switch you.”
Malek waved his hand dismissively and retorted “We’ll behave, mom. No worries” just as Blake appeared at their side. “Everything’s all set.” He informed them both with a quick glance back at Parker and a thumbs up. “Whenever you’re ready, Charlie, we can go ahead and get filming.”
As though they hadn’t even had the warning conversation about Malek’s camera man/ex, his face lit up and and looked at her with a mixture of wonder and amazement. He looked a little bit like a puppy, she thought but didn’t say out loud. With a large and overly dramatic sigh, Charlie rolled her eyes. “Fine.” She groaned, opening her palm to the porch they were standing in front of. “But remember, this is professional. We’re big league now.” Turning to look over her shoulder, she yelled “Team!! Let’s go!” And waited for them all to putter their ways over to her.
Only after everyone else had gathered did Charlie continue. They looked like a sports team all huddled together to discuss a play, and Sara hung back a little ways to give them space, but not far enough to be out of earshot. “Okay.” Charlie began her pep talk with a deep breath. “We’ve essentially made it already. Like I told these two-” she gestured vaguely at Blake and Malek, “we’re in the big leagues. We’re like Ghost Adventures, everyone, minus the douchebag who wants to commandeer the entire show.”
Blake snorted quietly to himself and earned an elbow from Tyler in response.
“Go in here and let’s do what we always do. Talk to ghosts. It’s no different than any other time we’ve gone hunting, we’re just getting a nice fat paycheck this time. Right?” She smiled at each member of the team individually as they mulled over that thought, seeing the gears turning behind their eyes before most of them nodded in agreement. Things had been a little tense since Malek and Blake’s breakup, but they were starting to look up, especially since the TC first reached out to Charlie about a potential contract. They were going to be living large; they just needed to film this first.
“Sara’s been sweet enough to offer us lunch,” Charlie glanced at the blonde over her shoulder, bringing the slightest flush to Sara’s cheeks, “so I’ve let her know exactly how ravenous you all can be. Get as much done in the daylight as you possibly can. Don’t forget to mark where the static cameras are going.” She looked pointedly at Parker, who had forgotten to place tape in the areas their unmanned cameras were supposed to go once. They’d made it work without them, but having them was paramount now that they were really filming. “Malek, don’t wander off by yourself this time. And if you must, at least take one of the handhelds. I want every spike in the meters, every EVP and unexplained shadow caught on camera. If we’re doing this, we’re doing it right. Don’t be lazy.”
There was scattered chorus of “yes mom” before the group broke apart, Tyler and Blake slinging their cameras back onto their shoulders and heading toward the charred front door. Blake was already recording, wanting to catch as much of the building as he could in the daylight. They would be “locked” in the house that night (as much as one could be locked in a house with no door, that was) and he wanted to see which rooms and angles would be best for when he needed to shoot in the dark.
Tyler stayed behind with the rest of the group, ready to record at a moment’s notice. Ben, Phoebus, and Malek were discussing their game plan. “I say we do it like always.” Ben shrugged, watching the second floor windows as though a spirit would appear in one at any second. “Go through and film what we can in the daylight, set the booms and statics near the staircases, bedrooms… we don’t know where they died, so maybe leave a camera in the most burned up room? I don’t know, man. Why fix something that isn’t broken, you know?”
Malek picked up where he trailed off, nodding pensively. “I see what you mean, but there is something different about this place. Maybe it’s just the fact that it’s, like, our pilot episode on a channel we actually watch, or something? My aunt’s gonna be watching this, man. I don’t want to disappoint her.” He turned his eyes from Ben to Tyler. “I want to get every nook and cranny of this house. I don’t care if we do have to provoke them, I want something conclusive.” Malek was usually very laid back about his ghost hunting technique, going out of his way not to anger anything paranormal. He had seen what pissing off spirits led to, and refused to be responsible for any of his team getting hurt. At least, not on the job. If they wanted to get hurt once the cameras stopped rolling that was on them. “All I’m saying is let’s try to tie up any loose ends we might find. But Ben, you have a point. Switching up the tech isn’t going to do anything but throw off our game.” Phoebus nodded sagely at this, chewing his bottom lip idly and tapping his foot against the grass. “So we do a mix of what we normally do. Set up everything just the same. Parker’s got that. He’s good at what he does. But we’ve got all this other tech we didn’t have before, so let’s not be stingy about using it, know what I mean? We might as well get accustomed to how it all works anyway.”
Leaning out of their smaller huddle, Phoebus called over to Charlie “hey Dots. I know we’ve just barely started and all, but did you let Sara know about the dietary restrictions? Mal’s already a little hangry, he’s turning into a diva.”
Malek punched Phoebus on the shoulder hard enough to sting, but not enough that he didn’t laugh about it. “Shut up, Kells.” He rolled his eyes as Charlie did the exact same. “Of course she knows.” She yelled back at them from across the yard where she stood with Ari at the back of the van. “Do I look like an amateur to you, Pheeb? I could run your sorry lives with my eyes closed.”
From inside the house, two pairs of brown eyes watched the group with curiosity. “There’s a man in our house.” The little girl looked up to her brother quickly before glancing out toward the stairs. “He’s carrying a funny box. I’m gonna go see what it is.”
Her older brother hadn’t looked away from the darker skinned boy with green eyes since he had gotten out of their car. “Be careful, Haze.” He warned her affectionately, but in a tone that said he wouldn’t hesitate to push someone down the stairs again if need be. This group was odd. They didn’t look like drunken teenagers here to party, and they were with Sara, the woman who had bought the house. There was something easy and somehow simultaneously tense about them all. He was wary of them.
After a long time talking to the blond boy with one leg and the native boy with the braid, the one who had caught his attention called “hey Blake!” And looked toward the house. A moment later Hazel was back at his side and the Latino boy was back within his line of sight. There was something about that one he didn’t care for, but he couldn’t put his finger on it…
“What’s up, Solh.” Blake ran a hand through his hair after setting his camera down beside his feet. “Listen, I think you’re gonna want to start in the library, that’s-”
Malek cut Blake off with a quick “You’re assigned to me for now, so tell me as we head in. Ty’s gonna go with Pheebs and Ben to check this downstairs area, you and I will take the upstairs.” He held up a roll of tape as Blake and Tyler exchanged a look. Malek had this way with people - like they had his undivided attention any time they spoke; like his entire world revolved around them. At one time his entire world had revolved around Blake. Now that it didn’t, Blake found himself feeling constantly shoved to the side for better, more important ventures. Tyler understood that feeling and could pick Blake up almost whenever it happened. They wouldn’t get the chance to talk until lunch, though, and lunch was a long time away.
Rolling his shoulders before picking his camera back up, Blake mumbled a quick “mhm. Let’s get in there so we can take a nap before lock in.”
This part was easiest to film. Ghosts didn’t seem to be as active during the day as they were at night, so it would mostly be Malek gawking at the inside of the home and the EMF meter spiking occasionally. It never jumped high enough to warrant Malek reaching out to try contacting the spirit, not during the day, but it was almost always enough to let them know there was definitely some residual energy in the place.
They moved through the foyer and parlor rooms as one cohesive unit, but branched off in the hallway as Malek and Blake moved toward the kitchen and the other three headed their own ways. In the dining room was the crystal bowl filled with water that the owner had warned them about. Malek mused over it for a few seconds for the camera, spouting off some nonsense about how it was a clear quartz decanter, “very useful for assisting in paranormal communication. The owner says she didn’t put this here, but whoever did was undoubtedly trying to make it easier to speak with these spirits. We need to figure out who did this.”
From there they traversed all around the house. The library was by far the most burned room - almost everything was reduced to soot and ash. Opposite that was a large and opulent office that was directly attached to the greenhouse. Malek marveled at the ornate detailing of the ironwork that created the plants’ gilded cage, and Blake made sure to capture it all from the best angle possible. No one in their group could really be considered ugly, but Malek had always been a treat to behold - especially when his eyes shone bright as he walked through centuries of history, fingers unconsciously trailing shelves of empty pots that once held proud and exotic plants. “The owner of the house was a botanist.” He mused more to himself than the camera before catching himself and smiling toward Blake. “I can feel the energy here,” he looked around as though in a daze, “can you, Blake?”
It was an invitation for Blake to insert himself into the moment, and Malek held up his much smaller handheld camera with a grin. Blake himself glanced around the broken glass and withered, petrified shrubbery before sighing. “It makes me feel sad. Like I can… remember it at its former glory, and now to see it as it is sort of breaks my heart.” He looked back at the camera Malek had in front of his nose as he watched the tiny screen. “Which is weird, because I’ve never stepped foot in this house before. Didn’t know it existed until a few months ago.”
Nodding in understanding, Malek added “I get it. There’s like a feuding sort of feeling for me. I’m saddened to see it like this, but I’m also… happy it still exists? I’m not sure how to explain it.” He looked up at Blake over the screen of the camera. “It definitely isn’t us feeling this, though. There’s mad energy in this room.” He held up the EMF meter for Blake’s larger, more professional camera to see. It spiked at twenty and then bobbed its way back down to four. “We aren’t alone here.”
Turning his back to Blake and the camera, Malek fumbled with the SB7, turning it on and filling the room with a soft white noise, and carefully called out “hello? We know you’re with us. Can you make a noise if you hear me? Or move something?”
Silence and stillness, except for the steady, rhythmic jumping of the EMF meter and the hum of the SB7. He tried again. “Show us you’re here, please.”
Blake’s keen ears picked up on the sound of a creaking floorboard, but he wasn’t sure if the camera itself would detect the noise over the SB7. “Did you hear that?” He asked Malek, who shushed him curtly, eyes wide with wonder. He nodded, amazed that they had gotten such a clear reaction so early in the day. “Who’s here with us? Dallas, is that you??”
The meter jumped again as Dallas gasped in surprise on the other side of the veil. They knew his name?? Did that mean they knew what happened to him?
The doors that connected the office to the greenhouse rattled, and Malek swiveled his gaze from Blake to them. He didn’t wait for his camera man before heading to them and yanking them open, a feat considering the greenery that had begun to grow through the broken panels and along the ground in front of the doors.
Shells of plants and empty pots littered almost every inch of workspace, some still bearing the blackened marks of the fire, and Malek walked around like any sudden movement would shatter the precarious peace of the magnificent room. Blake followed him in silence, hoping to catch another noise, a glimpse, a movement; any proof that they weren’t alone here.
When he reached the workbench farthest from the door, Malek stopped. “Blake,” he called quietly, “come look at this.”
Blake hurried over, carefully stepping over the withered stalks of plants that had once been taller than he was, and pointed the camera at what had caught Mal’s undivided attention. It was an old leather bound journal, weather worn and faded from the sun. Malek slowly flipped through the pages, a dazed look dulling his eyes, while Blake made sure to get the moment captured perfectly on film. The ledger was handwritten in minuscule but orderly cursive, and detailed various hybrid plants that the botanist must have been researching.
“Is this yours?” Malek asked the chilled air. “Was this your work?”
The meter jumped to eight and then stilled to zero. They were alone once again.
While Malek and Blake filmed in the library, office, and greenhouse, Phoebus and Ben wandered the rest of the place. It looked like it had been so grand back before the fire had reduced it to rubble and brick studs, and the duo split up at the stairs. Phoebus headed back into the parlor as Ben traipsed up the steps (since Malek had abandoned his designated area in favor of the library, which was not on the second floor), and Tyler, torn on which man to follow, elected to remain downstairs where at least they knew the floor was safer.
There wasn’t anything spectacular upstairs minus the views from the crumbled walls of the rooms, but Ben meandered around anyway, handheld camera blinking to signify that it was recording, waiting for Phoebus and Ty to catch up with him as he knew they eventually would.
He found himself in the doorway of the most burned up room - the one with ivy growing wild along the floor, almost to the spot in which he stood. There was a toy truck there, which he remembered Charlie briefing them on when she had discussed exactly what made this house so interesting for them to shoot their pilot in. Filming this was simple - he offered a brief synopsis of what he knew of the toy and the story the owner had provided - and continued around the room, getting a wide shot. He looked around slowly, not wanting to disturb the area, when he caught movement in the corner of his eye.
There was a rocking horse in the far corner of the room from where the wall had given way - to the right of the doorframe - and it was slowly moving back and forth. He figured it could probably have been the wind, except for the fact that he hadn’t felt any type of breeze since they entered the house. For it being as open to the elements as it was it was spectacularly… untouched. Unaffected by the wind. Nothing else moved, not even the green leaves sprawled along the floor. And yet, the rocking horse… rocked.
He held the camera on the spot, called around the room, looked at his EMF (which read zero and wasn’t wavering) and then backed out of the room, unsettled by the motions in the corner. Into the camera, he offered “holy fuck that was terrifying. Spectacular, but terrifying. You guys saw that I didn’t move from the doorway. There’s no wind. But like… holy shit, man.”
Downstairs, Phoebus and Tyler were experiencing something eerily similar and yet altogether different.
They had just come out of the parlor and were walking toward the stairs to catch up with Ben when Phoebus felt himself go cold and heard his EVP meter static. Freezing, he motioned for Tyler to pause and pulled the device from his pocket. He held it up to the camera, whispered “I just recorded a noise” and then asked cautiously “is someone here?”
As clear as day, a giggle like bells rang through the EVP.
Phoebus managed not to drop it just as Tyler managed not to drop his camera, but they both gaped at each other for a second before Phoebus breathed “holy shit.” He asked for more noise, another laugh, anything else, but this time, the EVP stayed silent. The EMF read zero. They were alone in the room again and truthfully, they were scared shitless. Had they dealt with real ghosts before? Of course they had. But never something as clear as that giggle and strong enough to be contacting them during the day.
Ben almost barreled into Tyler as he came crashing down the stairs. “There’s something upstairs” he exclaimed breathlessly just as Phoebus caught his arms and helped him upright. “A rocking horse. It moved.”
“Dude we just heard someone giggle. Like a real, honest to god giggle.” Phoebus was just as amazed as Ben, and broke into a half-wild grin.
“There are really ghosts here. This wasn’t a fluke.”