Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > Haunted! at the Disco

Haunted! at the Disco

by MyVengefulRomance 12 reviews

Five teenaged boys. One haunted house. One extemely evil woman. What can possibly happen? Character death, my pretties. Bring tissues.

Category: Panic! At The Disco - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Crossover, Drama, Horror - Warnings: [!] [?] [V] - Published: 2006-12-02 - Updated: 2006-12-03 - 2721 words - Complete

Haunted Disclaimer- If I own this, I will eat my foot. Without salt!!! le gasp!**

A/N- Hey, look! It's a one-shot! And, look. It's so friggin' happy. I just lied. I can't do happy. Actually, the whole 'Christmas decorating' thing has just made me want to write angst and horror. Aren't you glad that I'm the true definition to 'Scrooge'? (My first P!ATD fic. Sorry if it sucks.) Oh. Character death. Bring tissues. Enjoy...

It was a dark and stormy night. Literally.

My first thought was 'Oh. How cliché. Home alone. Stormy out. Four teens about to invite their girlfriends (or for Bren, boyfriend) over. Where's Freddy Krueger when ya need him?'

But, that's just me. I'm the only guy who can PMS worse than his girlfriend. It's a super-power, I swear. I'm PMSing-man!! Look at me piss off and depress everyone around me!

And that's just what I was doing. Brendan, Jon, and Spencer were just staring at me. I had my arms crossed over my chest, and I was currently whining about my girlfriend, who was being a complete witch. (With a 'B'.)

"I mean, come on. Who the hell has to go ice-skating in weather like this? She was totally lying to me. You know what? I bet it's Chris. He was so eyeing her at that party we went to last night. They're probably making out right now! I mean-," I ranted but was soon interupted by Brendan.

"Dude. Shut the hell up. Lizzy is most likely bangin' Chris, but she's a complete whore anyway. I don't know what you saw in her. You didn't like her that much, did you?"

I just stared at the floor, not answering. Brendan frowned, and slung an arm around my skinny shoulders.

"Hey, guys? Let's not invite our people over, 'kay? Let's have a guys' night, and comfort Ryro!"

I couldn't help but smile. He may be gay, but man. Brendan's a great friend.

Spencer frowned. He really wanted to see his girlfriend, but he was my best friend. So of course he agreed. Jon was planning on breaking up with his girlfriend, so he could really care less.

"So," Jon said, shoving his fists into his pockets. "What're we gonna do?"

I furrowed my brow, trying to think of something. Smoking was not an option. My dad would just be glad to actually have a reason to annihilate me. Drinking, maybe. I wouldn't be able to touch a glass, though. Every since my dad started drinking, I stopped. Alcohol isn't my friend. Brendan can't drink, either. He's a Mormon. It's against his religion. Hmm, maybe we could watch a movie? Nah, we're hyper-active boys. We can't sit still long enough.

Suddenly, realization hit.

"Let's invite Pete over. He's fun."

Brendan smiled. He had a major crush on Pete, who was going out with someone else. A girl. Pete is straight. But, as Brendan once said to me, he can pretend, right?

Jon and Spencer nodded in agreement. Everybody loves Pete. He's about the most hyper person I know. Besides Brendan, of course.

"Does Pete know that your parents are out of town for the weekend, Ryan?" Spencer asked.

I shook my head, swatted away the bangs that fell into my face when I moved my head, and said, "He would be here if he knew. I'll go call him."

"No you won't," Spencer said as I stood up.

I must've looked confused, because Spencer explained, "If Pete's mom answers, I'm the only one she likes. She hates you, Ryan."

I laughed, and so did Brendan. It was a funny and long story as to why all of my friends' parents hate me. All I'm gonna say is that it involves a living room, me, Bren, Jon, a dog, a stepping ladder, a glass snowman, and one hell of a lot of melted cheese. Don't ask.

Spencer shook his head, and left the room.


We all laughed, and I turned on the TV.

Brendan skipped (I swear. The dude skipped.) over to his overnight bag, and pulled out a DVD.

"Lookie!" he squealed, holding it up. "I got Texas Chainsaw Massacre!"

Jon yelled, "Ooh! Put it in! Put it in!"

I rolled my eyes, shaking my head and sitting next to the bouncing Jon on my couch. Just then, Spencer walked in with a huge grin on his face.

"Turn off the TV, and put on your coat, kiddies. We're gonna meet Pete at the old Henderson house."

Brendan jumped up from his crouching position, and squealed, "Huh?"

Spencer said, "You heard me! Come on!"

I slowly stood up, a sick feeling in my stomach. Jon did the same, except quicker and excitedly. Brendan and I exchanged glances, and I knew he felt the same way as me. I was about as gay as Brendan as you can be without liking men. We're both essentially girls when it comes to this kind of stuff. I mean, scary stuff. But, instead of risking a lifetime of teasing, we both pretended to be game for this.

As we walked to the car, I tried to keep my mind off of what Pete most likely had in mind. This, unfortunately, probably included breaking and entering the house, and some type of exploration.

I shivered. The stories that come out of the Henderson house are absolutely horrific. You know how every city has that one place where when you enter, you don't come out? Well, this is that place.

It is said that Mr. Henderson was sleeping with at least five different women at the same time. When they found out about each other, Mrs. Henderson planned to kill her husband, working with the other women. After killing him, Mrs. Henderson freaked and ended up killing the other four women, and then went on to kill everyone else in the house. Including her two children, three maids, butler, cook, and chef. See, the Henderson's were rich. Before Mrs. Henderson went on a murderous rampage. After she saw what she had done, she went and hung herself. It is said that she still haunts the house, searching for some way to get out of the earthly Hell she brought upon herself. Or, so it is said.

I wasn't very sure of what I believed at that point. There wasn't any solid proof, which I am very fond of. In fact, I don't believe in anything without sufficient proof. But that's off topic. All I know is that I was scared.

Through out the entire car ride, I was silent. Jon and Spencer were rambling on and on about the house, but I just tuned them out and stared out the window into the pitch black night. I couldn't stop shivering. I knew that I really shouldn't be that scared, I mean, I'm seventeen! Only babies get scared. But, man. Thunderstorms with haunted houses aren't exactly great combinations.

As we pulled up to the house, another shiver went down my spine.

Actually, it was more like a spasm. Brendan, who was sitting in the back next to me, shot me a strange look. I grinned wordlessly back at him. I realized that he was pale and shaking, too. I almost laughed. I was just relieved that I wasn't the only person afraid.

As I climbed out of the car, I realized why the house had been dubbed 'haunted'. It definitely looked it.

The house was the clichéd rundown mansion. The roof was missing shingles, the white paint on the walls was chipped and peeling, the windows cracked. If an inanimate object could be evil, this would definitely be a top contender for that title.

As a flash of lightning lit up the sky, I noticed a small cemetery in the back. Brendan must've noticed to, because he grabbed my arm.

"Ryan, I'm scared," he whispered in my ear, so that Spencer and Jon couldn't hear. I knew that they couldn't hear anyway; they were on the porch talking to a figure I assumed to be Pete.

"I know; me too. Come on, I don't want to be stuck out here, alone and in the rain," I replied, pulling him forward. I understood why he was frightened, and I wasn't lying when I admitted my fear.

He reluctantly walked forward with me, but didn't let go of my arm. I didn't make him, though. It was kind of comforting.

Pete smiled at us as we approached. At least, I think he did. I couldn't really see. It was too dark.

"Hey, guys," he said cheerfully.

"Hey," I mumbled.

"Hi, Pete," Brendan said awkwardly. I smiled inwardly. Poor Bren. He'll never give up. Always dropping hints.

"Well," Pete said, "I have two flashlights, which means two groups. Now, here's you mission: find something that you can steal and use as proof of your visiting this place. And no grabbing something you can find anywhere. Find something unique, maybe with the name 'Henderson' on it. And then, on Monday, we can tell everyone and have proof. Maybe you losers will make some friends out of this."

I nodded numbly, thinking that maybe mentioning Pete was a bad idea. The dude had thought out a friggin' mission for us!

Then, I realized something.

"Whoa. Two groups? We're gonna split up?"

Pete nodded. Brendan gripped my arm tighter, and I was pretty sure that no blood was making it to my fingers at that point.

He said, "I'll go with Spencer and Jon, and you two will go together."

He handed me a flashlight, and I gripped it tightly. I seriously didn't want to go in there.

Pete saluted me, and then yelled, "Let us be off!" as he led Jon and Spencer into the house. I blinked, realizing that they hadn't had to pick a lock because there was no door. Oh.

I looked at Brendan, and swallowed the feeling that I'd never see those three again.

"Come on," I said softly, tugging Brendan into the house. He followed, but only because I was dragging him.

Upon entering the house, a chill settled in my bones. This place was evil, and I knew it. The way Brendan tensed next to me, I could tell that he knew it too.

"Come on," I said, pulling him forward. "Let's get this over with."

He nodded numbly, and let me lead him up the stairs. He stumbled beside me, and I shined the light on the stairs so that we could see all the cracks and missing places. We still stumbled every once in awhile, though.

As we reached the top of the stairs, I swept the flashlight across the hall. It was pretty much empty.

I sighed.

"Nothing to steal here," I mumbled, dragging Brendan toward a room. I just wanted to get out of here with something to prove my entrance of the house. That urge pretty overrode the other urge to run out of the house screaming.

I was about to turn the knob of the door, when Brendan's entire body stiffened.

I turned to look at him, confused, and blinked. He was staring down the hallway, eyes wide with fear.

Following his gaze, I realized what was scaring him. My eyes widened, and filled with tears.

It was her. Mrs. Henderson was standing at the end of the hallway. Her hair was red, wild, and tangled, flowing in every direction. Her 1800's dress was ripped and stained with blood. What scared me most were her eyes. They were green, which wasn't too scary, but they were glowing. Literally. Light was seriously being emitted from her eyes. And they were staring straight at Brendan.

Brendan was gripping my arm so tight, I couldn't move my fingers. He was shaking so hard, he was nearly convulsing. Fear was just oozing out of him, filling the air, mixing with my fear, and the sheer hatred and insanity of the ghostly figure down the hallway.

I was doing well, until she started moving towards us. Brendan let out a choked sob. My knees stared to shake, and my legs turned into jelly. Sweat poured down my face, as tears flowed from my eyes.

She smiled, her eyes wild.

"Oh, sweet, sweet William. Do not be afraid of mommy."

I looked at Brendan, my mouth agape.

'Mrs. Henderson must think that Brendan's her son!' I thought fearfully.

Brendan, realizing this, choked out, "I'm not William. My name's Brendan."

She shook her head, still smiling.

"Oh, honey, are you confused again? William, come here. Mommy will make it all better."

I raised an eyebrow. I was over-protective of Brendan, only because he was so picked on (being gay and all), and also because he was younger than me. And smaller.

I quickly grabbed Brendan, and pushed him behind me. He squeaked, and wrapped his skinny arms around my waist, gripping onto me.

I glanced at his face, the tear streaks breaking my heart. All the blood was drained from his face, and his shivers were actually making me shake, too.

Turning back to face Mrs. Henderson, my eyes managed to get even wider.

Her face was filled with anger, the smile gone without a trace. I blinked, noticing for the first time a glint of silver in her hand. A knife. She...she was going to kill us!

"Get out of the way," she said coldly, staring at me. I only backed into the wall further, pushing Brendan into the wall. His breath was ragged, coming in fast and unevenly. I could actually feel his heart pounding in his chest.

Mrs. Henderson narrowed her eyes and hissed, "You will move. I want nothing to do with you."

"No!" I gasped defiantly, pushing back into Brendan more.

In one swift motion, the ghost flew forward, and grabbed my shoulder. My entire body turned into ice. I was paralyzed. My thoughts slowed down, and I barely registered myself sliding to the floor. I hit the ground hard, my head smacking against the ground.

Brendan screamed my name, and tried to grab me. My face was turned toward him, so I could see the ghost approach Brendan. Brendan backed against the wall, forgetting about me.

"Run!" I screamed. Or at least, that's what I would've screamed, if I could have.

I saw her press her ghostly body into Brendan's, and he croaked out a weak, "No..."

She pulled away, that evil smile now gracing her white lips. Brendan let out a small noise from the back of his throat, and he slowly slid to the ground. His chest was heaving as he tried to gather enough oxygen.

Mrs. Henderson touched my shoulder, and feeling slowly spread through-out my body. I jumped up, and reached out to the ghost, trying to kill her. I don't know why, I had this feeling that I had to get revenge. But, her ghostly figure faded before I could reach her.

"NO!!!" I screamed.

"Oh my God!!!" came a scream from behind me.

I spun quickly, to see Pete standing on the stairwell. Alone.

He looked about as bad as I knew that I looked. Tears streaming down his face, white as a ghost, and trembling.

Behind me, I heard a soft, "Ryan..."

Spinning around, I let out a sob.

Brendan had a hole in his blue T-shirt, and there was so much blood. Oh, God, so much blood. Brendan was gasping for air, the wound in his chest choking him.

Pete ran forward, and wrapped his arms around Brendan's quivering body.

" can't die too!! You can't join Jon and Spencer!! No!!"

I gasped, collapsing onto my knees.

"They're dead, too? All of them?"

Pete nodded, sobbing, rocking Brendan back and forth. Brendan looked at me, and our eyes locked.

A slight smile ghosted his lips, before his eyes slid shut one last time, never to re-open.

I died that night, curled up next to Brendan's cold body. Mrs. Henderson must've snuck up on me. I'm not really sure. Pete followed me soon afterwards. But all I do know is that I died next to two people I loved. Maybe for no reason. But I died, and that fact cannot be changed. No matter what.

A/N- Sorry if the ending ruined it. It's late. REVIEW!!!

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