Chapter Text
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Tucker asks, finagling with the camera lens.
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Sam says, tugging on her boots to make sure they’re secure, and pulling on some gloves. “The people want creepy locations, so why not the creepiest location?”
“Because it’s haunted?” Tucker glances up at her. “Like, really haunted?”
Sam rolls her eyes, snapping on her mic. “Yeah, sure. You’re just scared, aren’t you?”
Tucker frowns, pulling out a geiger counter and gesturing towards the building. “Yeah. It’s got ghosts and radiation. Radiation ghosts sound like a shit thing to get tangled up with.”
“Oh please. That’s why we bought the thing. So we don’t irradiate ourselves.”
“That chat had to convince you to buy,” Tucker grumbles, going through the final sound checks. “Don’t forget your mask.”
“I’ll put it on after the intro,” Sam says, crossing her arms. “Are we ready to go live?”
“Just about...” Tucker does the finishing touches, and then goes live, giving Sam a thumbs-up.
Her demeanor changes so quickly it’s almost like she morphs into a completely different person. Cheery instead of gloomy, full of charisma, and ready to play off of Tucker’s more reserved personality. “Hey everyone! Sam and Tuck here, welcome to the premiere! Today, we’re going to go into a place you guys have been begging us to explore!”
Tucker pans the camera out, getting a full wide shot of the abandoned FentonWorks building. It looms like a gnarled tree, the upper portions of its lab and scopes like branches, rust coloring in leaves, the brownstone building beneath a modest trunk. The old sign glares out of place in the sun. The area around it is barren save for weeds growing in old lots and cracking between the pavement.
“As always, we’ve done our research on the place,” Sam continues. “Remember to thank Tucker for his mad skills! Don’t forget to pay your respects to the eleven foot ladder.”
“I work so hard for you guys,” Tucker says, checking chat on his smartwatch. More people were filing in, excitement brewing and clamoring to see the inside soon.
Sam hums, gesturing to the abandoned street. “So! I’m sure you all know the rumors, but to anyone out there who lives under a rock; the Fenton family used to live here. One day, they all disappeared in an explosion in their basement lab. Some say they instantly blew themselves up, others think they got locked in and starved to death, or that radiation poisoning got to them. The more fantastical theory? They died trying to open a portal between our world and the ghost realm.
“But why is it still standing? Well, a friend of theirs, Vlad Masters—yeah that one? The one who made the Dairy King franchise? He was apparently college friends with the Fenton parents. He bought out this entire block! All this prime real estate, snatched away by a crazed tycoon.”
“Parents, Sam?” Tucker nudges, playing the part of the unknowing viewer.
Sam’s face brightens, starting to walk towards the building. “That’s right! Parents! You see, they had two kids; Jazz, 16, and Danny, 14, at the time of their disappearance. And you want to know what’s even more crazy?” She leans in towards the camera in a stage whisper. “We saw them! Before their disappearance of course, but Danny Fenton was in the same grade as us. Of course, a week later, the explosion happened and they were gone. Tragic!”
The chat moves so fast Tucker can’t even keep track. He gives Sam an enthusiastic thumbs up.
“You may also note a distinct lack of graffiti,” Sam continues.
“Mask, Sam!” Tucker reminds her.
With a roll of her eyes, Sam tugs her mask on.
“Thank you chat for keeping us safe,” Tucker says. “These masks block heavy particles and asbestos. We’re wearing gloves and thick boots, and from what I was able to gather this place technically shouldn’t have any asbestos, but better safe than sorry. We also got that geiger counter you all wanted us to get, and I think it’ll be of particular note for this exploration. Lab safety!”
“Anyways,” Sam draws out the word, walking towards the building. “So, no graffiti. Weird, right? So much empty space, more prime real estate for those looking to make a statement.”
“For legal reasons we do not condone graffiti,” Tucker says quickly.
“For legal reasons we’re totally allowed to be here,” Sam rolls her eyes. “Anyways. Graffiti. It’s said that someone tried to mark up the place, but by the next day it was completely scrubbed and gone. Others tried it, assuming it was just the government hosing it down, but no government officials showed up. It just disappeared all on its own! Wild, isn’t it?”
As soon as they’re on the sidewalk in front of the building, the sign flashes to life, groaning with a high neon buzz. Tucker jumps, and Sam snaps her head to look at the flashing sign.
“I told you this place is haunted!” Tucker hisses. He pans up to the sign, watching it flash in a strange rhythm before turning the camera’s attention back to Sam. He checks chat while she continues to talk about the history of the Fenton family.
bustinsomeghost: Whoa! That’s wild!
kwandive: Do you think they hooked it up to light up right when they got up to it?
kingdash15: Yeah they had to have cheated it.
starrygirl95: No way! They would never do something like that for cheap scares!
bestgirl1999: remember the williams house? They said there was a ghost there too and i swear there was one in the footage. No way you can fake that.
weebysleeby: scaredy cat
wesserguesser: guys
wesserguesser: guys wait
wesserguesser: is the sign flashing in morse code?
kingdash15: The hell you talking about???
starrygirl95: Yeah, please enlighten us plebs.
wesserguesser: wait
wesserguesser: okay wow
wesserguesser: it says
wesserguesser: “leave run away”
kwandive: Wow really??
kingdash15: Damn you wilding
wesserguesser: no it’s what it says! I swear!
Tucker feels his blood run cold. No way that would be real, right? He looks up and watches the sign flash. It did seem to be on a timer. But that wouldn’t make much sense; the house had been abandoned for years now. And supposedly it’s haunted. Maybe it was the ghosts? Yeah. Definitely ghosts.
“Tucker!” Sam prompts, stepping up onto the porch. “We’re going in, everybody!”
“If we die, clear my search history,” Tucker jokes, though his voice is more shaky than he would like. “Just kidding. I already do that.”
“He likes roses,” Sam hums, leaning down to pick the lock. “Remember that, all you single girlies.” She sticks out her tongue as she works, and Tucker zooms in on her concentrated look.
weebysleeby: she’s cute whenever she does that
kingdash15: Yeah okay weirdo
wesserguesser: i think it’s a bad idea to go in this one...
starrygirl95:Oh please, they do stuff like this all the time
wesserguesser: i know
wesserguesser: i’m subscribed
kwandive: Eyyy lock picked!!!
weebysleeby: another successful pick by our best girl
bestgirl1999: i’ll have to disagree on that
wesserguesser: if it comes down to it
wesserguesser: i can phone the police
wesserguesser: if they disappear
kingdash15: Like the fuzz would do anything
kwandive: Hey guess let’s not be hasty
kwandive: No need to argue
kwandive: Let’s just keep watching
wesserguesser: all i’m saying is if something bad happens i would think their family would like to know what happened
wesserguesser: even if what they’re doing is illegal
wesserguesser: i would think being alive is better than jail time
wesserguesser: guys be careful
Tucker rips his eyes away from the chat, feeling nauseated.
“What’s up, Tuck?” Sam asks, starting to push the door open. There’s a rush of freezing wind that jostles her hair. She spits out the hair that got stuck onto her lips, venturing inward.
“I uh...” Tucker stays put behind the door. “I don’t know about this one, Sam.”
“Chat, please feel free to call Tucker a scaredy-cat,” Sam says, taking Tucker’s arm and tugging him forward. “Look at this! It’s covered in dust, sure, but hey! Who's house isn’t?”
Tucker frowns. The rooms are pristine, like the Fentons would be home any minute now. There’s no sign of any graffiti, and nothing appears to have been stolen. He pans across the living room, giving it the screen time it deserves.
“Wow,” Sam breathes, brushing her hand on the couch cushions. “It’s like they never left. Everything is still here.” She brightens in excitement, ducking under the coffee table and pulling out a book. “Look at this! A pristine copy of Ghosts and the Supernatural and How to Commune With The Dead! This book went out of print decades ago! Parents thought it was teaching Satanism to their kids, and we all know how parents get when there’s a scare going around.”
Tucker stays rooted in his spot. Something about the place felt oppressive, far more so than any asylum or prison they’ve explored. He resists the urge to check chat and grimaces, taking a shaky step forward.
“So, upstairs or lab?” Sam asks. “What do you guys think?”
Oh great. So now he does have to check chat. Or just assume they want the creepiest option. He sighs, not bothering to check, shaking his head. “Lab. Because you guys want to see us suffer.” He hands Sam the geiger counter, and turns on the flashlight. “Anything bad and we’re hightailing it out of here.”
Sam flicks the counter on, and starts heading towards the basement stairs. Wood paneling changes to metal sheeting. Each step of their boots echo endlessly around them. Even Sam falls quiet, carefully testing each step before continuing down.
Tucker can’t help but feel like he’s being swallowed by some beast. The air goes stale. The atmosphere is so thick it can be cleaved through with a knife. Motes of dust flicker in their flashlights, bobbing and weaving in their wake. He feels his blood run cold and the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end when he finally reaches the bottom. It feels like someone is breathing ice down his spine.
In front of them, the lab is eerily pristine. Beakers and equipment unbroken and unbothered on shelving, notebooks stacked neatly on the countertops. An ancient computer sits next to some other machines, waiting to be turned on again. No graffiti, no looting, nothing. Though, with the way Tucker’s heart jumps and churns in his chest, he can figure why not a lot of people would risk coming down here.
“Sam,” he hisses quietly. “I don’t like this.”
Sam opens her mouth to say something, and jumps when the geiger counter crackles to life. She gives Tucker a look, and instead of heading back to where he is, she continues forward. “Look at that,” she breathes.
Tucker peeks around the corner. A giant metal... thing, is bolted to the wall. The doors are closed, painted in hazard yellow and black. It takes up all attention in the lab, and Tucker can’t help but stare at it. It shouldn’t be here. Why would there be a giant metal doorway in a lab?
The creak of the geiger counter shakes him out of it. “Sam...”
“One minute, Tuck! Sheesh. The radiation isn’t that bad.” She rifles through papers and notebooks. “Wow. They really were trying to build a portal to a different dimension...”
“Chat, if we die, let it be known that Sam claimed that the radiation isn’t that bad.” Tucker grips the camera tightly, as if it could save him from the dread creeping around him. The geiger counter crackles on and off, static hissing groans that start and stop awkwardly, despite Sam not moving it. Cursing himself, Tucker glances down at chat again.
wesserguesser: guys i swear
wesserguesser: that’s more morse code!
wesserguesser: i promise
bustinsomeghost: Mods can we ban Wes?
wesserguesser: no! I’m not lying!
wesserguesser: it says
wesserguesser: “get out get out”
wesserguesser has been banned
kingdash15: Fuckin finally.
starrygirl95: Hate to agree, but Wes was being too annoying
bestgirl1999: I’m glad he’s gone. We can actually watch again
kwandive: Man! Take a look at that portal! Do you think that red button would open it?
weebysleeby: i bet they won’t press it
weebysleeby: Tucker is a scaredy cat
bustinsomeghost: Tucker is a scaredy cat
kingdash15: Tucker is a scaredy cat
littlebabyman: Tucker is a scaredy cat
Tucker chews on the inside of his lip. Was Wes pulling his leg? Or was he serious? Maybe he should take some time later to learn morse code.
“Dude, check it,” Sam waves to Tucker to move in next to her. “Look at this.” She holds out a sheet of paper, letting Tucker focus on the diagrams. “Now, to all our nerds out here, is this even possible? They say they have ectoplasm samples. The stuff that ghosts are made out of! I wonder if they still have any here.” She trots away to the small refrigerator labeled LAB STUFF NO FOOD.
Resigned to his fate of radiation poisoning, Tucker follows behind her. She gasps and pulls out a vial of glowing green gunk, waving it in front of the camera. “Ectoplasm!” she cheers. “Ghosts are real, confirmed?”
The geiger counter cracks, the static pop! of it dying nearly blowing out Tucker’s ears. His flashlight sparks and flickers out. Sam’s follows a few moments later. The small vial of ectoplasm is their final light source, and Sam clings tightly to it.
“Ghosts are real, confirmed,” Tucker hisses. “Let’s take that glowstick and get the fuck out of here!”
Before Sam can answer, a sudden rush of wind buffets them. They turn as the lab is bathed in a sickly green. Freezing air surrounds them, and Tucker finds that neither he nor Sam can look away from the swirling green that yawns in front of them, the doors grinding open with gears and machinery that should be defunct.
“The Ghost Zone,” Sam whispers. “It is real!”
“Really bad!” Tucker grabs Sam’s arm, tugging her away and starting to book it to the stairs.
Ice grabs at his ankle, tripping him. The camera falls out of his hands, and Sam barely keeps her footing, face paling as she looks behind Tucker.
“Sam!” Tucker lifts himself up, trying to tug his leg away from whatever he tripped on. “A little help?”
She’s rooted to the spot, paper-white and wide eyed in horror. It’s like she doesn’t even hear him. Tucker grunts, reaching out to her. “Help me up, Sam!” He twists around to see what caught him.
He wishes he didn’t turn around.
A large, decrepit hand is curled around his ankle, the arm snaking back to the portal. White gloves, black sleeves, and that’s all Tucker can make out. He can hear inhuman screeching coming from the portal; a wail so loud he’s certain he’s going to be deaf—assuming he even survives this. His fingers scrabble on the metal floor, unable to find any purchase as he’s pulled towards the swirling green. “Sam!!!”
His shout snaps her out of it, and she rushes forward, grabbing Tucker’s arms and turning him into a tug-of-war rope. “Let go of my friend!” she shouts. “Let him go!”
Another giant arm phases out of the portal, gripping Sam by the waist and pulling her in before Tucker can even blink. He shrieks in terror, scrabbling for something, anything, to stop him from getting sucked in. His fingers find purchase at the paneling next to the portal, and he inadvertently hits the red button. An alarm blares overhead, the doors starting to close.
If he could just hold out long enough for the doors to close, maybe it would cut off the ghastly thing holding him captive.
But nothing is ever that easy.
Tucker shrieks as he’s tugged into the portal, watching as the doors shut with a metallic finality, sealing his fate.
— — —
kingdash15: HOLY SHIT
kwandive: HOLY SHIT
starrygirl95: FUCKING HELL
weebysleeby: are they dead???
bestgirl1999: I think they might be dead???
bustinsomeghost: i can’t believe Wes was right
kingdash15: oh shit
kingdash15: we should unban him
starrygirl95: Yeah he said he was going to call the cops?
kwandive: ACAB
littlebabyman: ACAB
weebysleeby: ACAB
weebysleeby: But i don’t know who else to call?
kingdash15: ghostbusters???
bustinsomeghost: They’re not real idiot
kwandive: Fcuk
kwandive: Does this mean we just watched a snuff stream??
kwandive: Will we get in trouble?
littlebabyman:oh shut it
littlebabyman: these guys got got by ghosts
littlebabyman: like the police would even care
bestgirl1999: unban wes
wesserguesser has been unbanned
wesserguesser: I TOLD YOU GUYS
wesserguesser: I FUCKING TOLD YOU
wesserguesser: ACAB BUT I’M CALLING THE COPS
wesserguesser: FUCK
wesserguesser: HATE YOU GUYS
littlebabyman: hate you too bro <3
littlebabyman: make sure to tell them to turn off the camera
littlebabyman: that way it’ll (hopefully) upload automatically
kingdash15: i was here
bestgirl1999: are you fucking serious??
MODERATOR Lancerlot: I am shutting off chat now.
William Lancer steps away from his computer. He watches as red and blue lights flash by his house, heading towards the abandoned FentonWorks. What was he going to tell Samantha and Tucker’s parents? That he watched them get pulled into another dimension by a ghost? That he is a moderator for their videos and chat? That he did nothing and let someone else call the cops instead?
Invisible Man, but he was frazzled.
He paces in his living room. He paces a line into the carpet. He has papers to grade. He has a class to prep for. He has to see his students that he moderated in chat pretend to be normal as Samantha and Tucker missed roll call. And he has to pretend he doesn’t know a thing.
What could he do? He’s just a teacher.
He frowns, remembering what Samantha said back at the very beginning of their stream. Danny Fenton was in the same grade as us!
Lancer hums, hands clasped behind his back. He remembers Danny; he was a bright boy with a shining future. He had jumped eagerly into everything. He was so hungry for knowledge, and he was always on top of his assignments, even staying after to talk to teachers about things he didn’t quite understand until he felt like he understood everything. He was one of his best students. Lancer was eager to teach him—a kid like that didn’t come around often. That week before the Fentons disappeared... Danny was fitting in nicely with the high school niches. Even the jocks didn’t seem to mind him, seeing how he was willing to help tutor them.
And then, he was gone. A bright flame extinguished well before its time. That poor kid.
Lancer stops in front of the window, staring out sightlessly as more sirens pierce through the neighborhood. There wasn’t any blood on the lab floors. Nor was there any sign of a struggle. Did the Fentons get dragged into that horrid portal just as Samantha and Tucker did? He shudders. What an awful way for such bright spirits to go.
He stands there for an immeasurable amount of time, mulling over many of his thoughts and what he should do next. Perhaps a quick note on their video page explaining that the channel may be inactive? Or does he say that they died on their latest exploration? No, that would lead to termination. He has to be crafty about this...
The video.
Lancer quickly returns to his computer, and downloads the stream as fast as he can. He needs to keep it as evidence, and God knows what the actual site admins will do with it. Yes. That is a measurable action. One step closer to... something.
Perhaps it was time for him to start looking into the Fentons research and see if there was anything he could do for his two lost students.