Faster, faster, legs pumping, heart racing. Faster, faster… Drip, a cascade of cold sweat falling all around, faster, faster, dark withered trees closing in on all sides. Not fast enough, not fast enough, gotta keep running… Run, run, a glance behind, it's still following, eyes open in a cold stare, mouth gaping, swallowing whole…

Breaths short, thudding heart, frantic search for an escape, an end, anything to stop this final chase, faster, faster, keep running, not fast enough, turn, still following, eyes still staring, gotta keep running, beating even louder, not fast enough-

Airborne, ground rushes up, sprawling onto the path, look behind, he's still there, scramble, hands fill with dirt, heart still pounding, gotta keep running, he's coming closer, closer, closer, he's almost here He's almost here HE'S ALMOST HERE RUN!!!!

Another trip, topple into a mouthful of dirt. Look up, dead trees clogging the air with smoke, pale moon replaced by solar flames, can't breathe, can't move, no escape, scramble, crawling blind, orange glow fades to gray, no sight, no air, no escape… no escape… collapse, beats slow down, one by one, by one… until silence… sweet silence… darkness falls forever.

He awoke to the first breath in what felt like ages, a gift greater than priceless gold, than water to a withered husk. But there was no shortage of moisture here – it slid down his fur, already slick with sweat which caught even stagnant air as if it were a frigid wind, anything to cool the steam rising from his terror stricken body, heart racing faster than the beating trances in Rouge's nightclub.

A nightmare… that's all it was, a nightmare. Over and over he repeated it, praying that the mere act of chanting the refrain would somehow make it true, somehow make things right. His eyes seemed frozen open in fear; fear of what he would see if they closed once more. Even now, smoke still clogged the air, each clean breath weighed down with the taste of the poisonous smog that both haunted his dreams and invaded his precious reality. But it was just a dream… Just a dream… Darkness fell again upon his world like dusk creeping in on the twilight, eyes creeping shut once more, a curtain over a reality free of the creature that lurked in the dark. Like a light turned off, his mind went dead.

Creak

What…? Tails fought the urge to open even an eye. Wisdom beyond his years had trained him to process the advantage of the element of surprise, even through a fog of drowsiness. As his groggy mind began to remember the process of waking, an entire orchestra of life began to register in his ears; complete with a percussion section featuring various mechanical grinding gears that kept his workshop in working order.

Creak

'Who… Who's there?' He thought, fighting back another urge to peek. It would have been so simple to do so, but he had a rule: Never question when the answer can be found in plain sight. Bonus points if you could find it with your eyes closed. Everything he needed was right in front of his nose… The gait of his currently unknown visitor resembled an unsuccessful attempt to be silent, which suggested that they were also trying to sneak up on him. Statistics showed that those whose purpose was to do harm were often legendary in the art of silent shadow, which made this motive an obviously vacant choice.

However, this revelation was hardly relevant to the question of whom… Wait, what was today? Thursday… no, Friday? Friday. Friday the… thirtieth?

No, the thirty first! Tails fought an urge to reward his discovery with a celebratory movement. October thirty first… Old Hollows Eve. That explained everything.

Creak.

Tails was suddenly glad of the creaking floorboards next to his bed, for now he knew the exact position of his unfortunate visitor. He was so close, Tails could smell the sweat from the strain of the art of silentry. It was now or never. 'On three,' he decided… 'One, two…'

THREE!

With a snarling yelp that came out disappointingly less frightening than he had been trying for, Tails leapt out of bed at his cobalt visitor; thereby thwarting the less-than-silent hedgehog's attempt to do the exact same thing in reverse. Tails's lunge reached mere inches before Sonic's face, followed swiftly by a forceful insurgence of gravity as the bedsheets that had been so comforting mere moments ago entangled him in their cloth-y grip, and sealed him to his descending doom.

Whatever surprise Tails's initial spring had contained, his subsequent crash into the hardwood floor held equal – if not greater, hilarity. Gravity was allowed an even greater role as it carried Sonic onto his backside with laughter, for the simple sight of the kitsune's faceplant onto the floor was enough to send seasoned comedians running. There was just too much irony in the moment: how could a flying fox – by definition the most agile creature on Mobius – find himself on a collision course with the ground so soon after an attempt at the sky? Conventional ironic jibes and sarcastic remarks were out the window here, and even Sonic was almost at a loss for words at this level of hilarity. Almost…

"Uhh, Tails?" Sonic managed to sober himself to a satirical seriousness for a moment. "Perhaps you should look before you leap? After all…" Sonic broke down into a slight snicker. "This is a restricted airspa-psshahahahaha!" He couldn't finish the joke that sent him into another string of laughter. By now, the vulpine had untangled himself from the mess of bedsheets that had dragged him to the creaking floorboards, so now he was forced to wait until Sonic had had enough fun at his expense so that they could go out today. Sonic had planned for them to hit a haunted house today, and Tails was more than eager to check it out.

Tails looked up at a recovered Sonic, and checked the wristwatch he had put together from scraps on his nightstand. Reading off the time, he concluded that Sonic had been laughing for exactly ten minutes, thirty two seconds, eighty three milliseconds. It would have been a record, would it not for Eggman's notorious hour-long evil laughing sprees.

"Ready to go?" Tails mouthed through a yawn, though whether it spawned from boredom or having just woken up was a tough question. He received a nod in response, so the kitsune led the way to the door.

"Watch out, Tails. Don't trip!" Sonic snickered again behind him, and Tails was once again reminded that he wouldn't be hearing the end of this joke for quite some time. As he opened the only door in his workshop that offered an exit to the Mystic Ruins, the kitsune was forced to raise his arm over his eyes to cover the blinding sun. Somehow, at least half the day had already passed him by and he hadn't even noticed.

"What, gunna stare at the sun all day, li'l bro? We've got haunted houses to check out, man! Let's go!" Rather abruptly, Tails found himself being dragged in a sort of super sonic race, with Sonic apparently competing against himself for the best speed record. After a few seconds of that sort of torment, a little sunlight became the least of his worries.

While contemplating the possibility of sighting last night's dinner once again, he realized that the world had finally solidified from one huge blur into clarity. And then he got a rather nice view of the soil just before he contaminated it with his vile bile.

Yeah, Sonic. Laugh it up.

When full control of his stomach acid finally returned to him, Tails was able to take a look at the house for the first time. Apparently, Sonic had already taken off, or gone inside, or begun a tri-circumnavigation-athon or something like that, which gave the kitsune a slight thrill of excitement. Here he was, alone, in front of a house that they had specifically picked because it was most likely genuinely haunted.

It was a rather worn out old two story in the middle of the woods, and its placement at the apex of a rather steep incline had probably been deliberate by its architect. The forest grew thinner by its perimeter, whether by human coercion or a natural desire to repel oneself from evil, and it was only a few miles outside the nearest civilization – which happened to be the archeologist excavation camp in the Ruins.

The house had likely been abandoned for a long time, judging by the faded paint and the shutters on the second floor hanging off of their hinges. Yet surprisingly, the sunlight streaming through the forest onto the dilapidated building did little to illuminate the second story through the windows that by all rights should have done nothing to repel the sun. A quick scan around the outside of the house found bits and pieces of roofing that had accumulated over the years from the virtually destroyed roof.

Basically, if any house could possibly be haunted, it would be-

"Grraaagh!" A chilling hand clawing at his backside instantly sent Tails flying fifty feet into the air, his fur bleached completely white with shock. Had his vocal cords been in even remotely working order, they would have been screaming to the high heavens, and he was strangely thankful for his earlier excavation of his bowels to prevent him from showering the already decayed foliage with rotten piss.

Below, a storm of laughter rose up to meet him, and the kitsune suddenly realized that he had been the target of yet another prank by Sonic. The cobalt hedgehog was literally dying on the ground below with the hilarity of a successful scare. Tails sighed, resigning himself to the rest of the scares this Halloween was bound to throw at him. He berated himself for not seeing the obvious trick coming.

Ignoring his gag obsessed brother, Tails dropped to the ground and walked to the front door. Like the rest of the house, its paint was faded and chipped, and the door itself was almost hanging off of its hinges. The knob rattled as he turned it, possibly from a loose connection to its inner twisting mechanisms, or more likely because the knob was completely useless and the door opened on its own not two seconds later. Ominous? Maybe.

"Coming, sissy?" Tails called out behind him, happy for any opportunity to recover his lost dignity. However, he was even more thankful to find Sonic right at his heels as he took his first steps into the house, suddenly nervous as to the horrors that waited within.

Surprisingly, it was just like any other house. Or rather, any other house that had been abandoned for years and had what seemed to be a negligent family living in it. Furniture was strewn everywhere, and the fireplace somehow seemed to have spewed ash over a wide radius into the adjoining room. It was the kind of house where you would expect ooze to drip from the ceiling, chilling wails to emanate from the walls, and for the pictures to have eyes that followed you everywhere. Tails was glad to note that there were no pictures on the silent walls, and it was surprisingly dry compared to the dense jungle outside.

"Gunna stand there all day?" Sonic scoffed, initiating his own foray into the unknown. There was a kitchen at the far end of the living room, into which the duo had walked into. And of course, not seconds later, Tails heard the unmistakable sound of an ancient refrigerator door opening. Typical. Tails took a side route into a side room.

"Hello, little boy. Would you like to buy something?" Tails froze. His eyes scanned frantically through the room, searching desperately for Sonic. It was his only hope – or else he was in deep trouble.

No such luck. The kitsune found himself staring wide eyed at an old man sitting at a table covered with dusty artifacts. Among the junk he could see several pieces of ancient clockwork mechanisms and spring loaded technology – relics that Tails had built at age two to power his workshop. It was like walking into a museum, even up to the curator himself.

The man's skin was pale as moonlight, and wrinkled worse than a prune. Although his clothes were severely outdated, he hardly seemed to stand out at all in the decayed setting. As he moved his right arm to indicate his wares, Tails could see that it was especially withered compared to the rest of the man's body. Even his eyes had problems, as Tails noticed his left eye wandering aimlessly off to the side.

"Don't be shy, come closer!" Um… Sure. Come closer to a guy in a most definitely haunted house selling what looked to be ancient relics from a lost civilization. That was definitely on his schedule of things to do today.

"Hey Tails, what'cha starin' at?" Sonic called out from the room's entrance to the kitchen. Finally, Tails was glad to see Sonic that day.

"At that old guy selling-" Tails looked back to find a dusty table, clear of anything ancient and relic-y. Tails took a step back.

"Sonic, I'm starting to think this place really is haunted!" No duh, Sherlock. Stop chattering your teeth, you're starting to sound like a wimp. Sonic raised an eyebrow.

"Well, the food's not." He stated, as he chowed down on what looked to be a chilidog from hell. Tails wasn't about to complain – if anyone's stomach could handle haunted meats, it would be Sonic's. Another glance at the table revealed a new discovery – there was something left behind from the old man's disappearance.

Tails approached it cautiously, fearing the worst. Schematics of booby traps and old stories of various haunted containers came to mind, and even Sonic was curious enough to follow into the investigation.

The box was old and dusty, with metal joints and hinges, and a lock on the seal between the lid and the box itself. It was an old fashioned lock, with a keyhole on the bottom and a brass loop running through a steel clasp. An old tarnished silver key sat on top of the box; presumably corresponding with the lock judging by size.

Wait, there was writing on the key as well. With Sonic trailing close behind, Tails stepped closer to view the words with more clarity.

Correction – there was only one.

Tails

The named one instantly paled, and had his brother not been behind him at that moment he would have fled for his life. His moment of terror was compounded by the closing of the shutters of the house simultaneously, clothing the room in pitch black only broken by the sunlight streaming through the front door which had failed to close. To make matters worse, Tails could hear his heartbeat close in his chest, a loud thumping that felt more like it was coming from outside his body rather than inside.

Probably because it was coming from outside. From the upper floor, to be exact. A beam of light pierced the veil as Sonic pulled out a flashlight, and Tails was thankful for a companion in what he was now thoroughly convinced to be a genuinely haunted house.

"Let's check it out." Sonic said, in all seriousness. The kitsune would have screamed 'ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!?!' had his manliness not been called into question earlier. Out of some sense of possession that defied even the vulpine's attempts to explain, he picked up the box and key before following his brave brother up the stairs. By some unwritten trademark of the generic haunted house, the stairs obviously creaked as they ascended.

As the duo entered the upper levels of the dungeon swathed in midnight, the flashlight beam alit upon a pale white door, behind which the relentless beats emanated. Sonic halted as they came in front of the door, and together they just stared at it, frozen in fear, just listening to their heartbeats synchronize with the infernal drum. Finally, tired of the fear threatening to rise up and choke him to death, Tails nudged the hedgehog forward, and the procession began to move again.

Sonic crept open the door slowly, silently, until just a gaping chasm remained, into which Sonic's faithful beam poured.

And into the solitary illumination crept a small, seemingly harmless doll. A doll with visibly sewn joints, and alternating patches of white and orange fur. A glowing red gem hung from its forehead… and its two tails trailed behind it.

Tails had never run faster in his entire life than when he ran from that house, as he tossed the box and key to the side carelessly, fearing for his life. All he could hear, see, and feel was the sound of his feet hitting the ground, the narrow path of escape before him, and the thump of his heart in his chest. His breath came in ragged bursts, and his lungs began to cry out for rest but he couldn't stop, not with that… that thing behind him.

Finally, he could take no more, and he collapsed. Even death was preferable to the constant burning iron on his tongue. He glanced behind him, an accomplishment considering his awkward position, and found that he had ditched both the doll and his brother. An involuntary gulp rose up his throat. The doll had probably chased after Sonic instead. A heaping portion of guilt added itself to the steadily growing list of pains he was experiencing, still second to the aching of his grateful lungs.

Tails's head impacted the ground as something heavy dropped out of the tree above him, and as stars danced before his eyes he struggled to see what had hit him. He seriously doubted the sky was falling today, of all days.

An old wooden box with metal hinges lay in front of him, skewed but very much intact… and beside it lay the tarnished silver key with that awful engraving.

Tails

Had he had the ability to ponder the resulting marathon, he would have wondered simply at the speed at which his earlier pains and aches disappeared in the face of overwhelming terror. Within a mile or so, Tails realized he was airborne, and was glad for the fact. At least it couldn't fall out of the sky, this time.

Station Square loomed in the distance, and a wave of relief washed over him. Superstitious nonsense like haunted houses and strange boxes that followed people and silver keys with people's names carved in them was nothing compared to the normal chaos of everyday life. As the metropolis grew larger and larger below him, only the thought of a nice Mobian meal of a cheeseburger remained, driving out the constant feeling of checking behind to ensure for the thousandth time that nobody followed.

As he took a step into the restaurant, having checked for the thirtieth time after touching ground once more, he found relief in seeing people who did not have creepy red gems hanging from their forehead, and two badly sewn tails dragging behind. Tails found an open booth next to the window and sat down, making sure every two seconds that there was nothing creepy approaching outside.

"Excuse me…" Tails looked up at the waitress, who was sporting a cap with the restaurant logo and a t-shirt emblazoned with the same. Nice, normal people. Paradise.

"Yes, could I get a cheeseburger please?" Tails said quickly and quietly, before looking back outside. Several were dressed for the occasion, costumes ranging from the freakish to the stupid, from the elaborate to the inanely simple. And then there were the people who weren't celebrating, walking along in suits or simple jeans and t-shirts, going about their business. None of them had seen what he had seen, none of them knew that Sonic could be dead or worse right now…

"Sir?" The waitress came back… But they couldn't have had a burger in that quickly, could they? If they did, it would be a miracle…

Tails turned to face the last thing on Mobius he wanted to see: the box, with its dusty wooden frame and metal hinges, with its tarnished silver key and its satanic script…

Tails

The waitress couldn't even finish telling him that a package had arrived for him before Tails was gone, faster than an arrow out the door; his frenzied scramble for escape renewed. Why was it following him? Why was he afraid? That was easy, because he both knew exactly what he would find inside… and he didn't. He knew that whatever it was, he wouldn't be happy to see it. It wasn't a surprise present to open at his birthday – it could even hold Sonic's severed head by now… The thought did not please him in the slightest.

Wait, if there was anyone who knew how to handle this, it would be Knuckles. He was the only one to have fought ghosts before, and he communicated with spirits on a daily basis. As much as he regretted to do so, Tails had to travel back toward the Mystic Ruins, above which the Angel Island soared on a bed of clouds.

Every three seconds, Tails scanned behind him, searching for box-shaped horrors that lurked below and behind every cloud. He alternated intervals of three seconds for searching on either side of him, and checking his route ahead, so in reality he was turning his head quite a lot as he flew. Every three seconds, Angel Island came closer and closer, every three seconds Central Square faded into the distance, and every three seconds he faced a miniature panic attack as everyday objects became boxlike and prophetic with messages of doom carved upon them.

When Tails finally landed on the lush grass of the island, he realized he was a wreck. His lungs were close to implosion, he was about ready to puke, his nerves were frayed to the point of twitching at every snapping twig. After three seconds of just standing there, desperately trying to calm himself, no natural balm aided his malady. Finally, he decided that the faster he broke whatever curse he had placed upon himself, the faster he could calm down. Therefore, the only cure was to keep moving, until the problem was solved or he was dead.

Knuckles was just as hard-headed and duty-obsessed as ever, keenly demonstrated by his insistence on repeating a cliché already buried six feet below the ground.

"Halt! Who goes there?" Really, it should have been more of a joke than an actual question. Tails wasn't in the mood for laughing.

"It's Tails, and I need your help. I'm being haunted." Tails watched as Knuckles took a long look at him… before bursting into laughter. After rolling his eyes, the kitsune played a game of Minesweeper on his watch while he waited for Knuckles to end his mirth. One game turned to three on Expert difficulty before Knuckles finally wound down.

"No, seriously," he managed to gasp through fits of laughter. "what do you need me for?" Tails narrowed his eyebrows.

"I'm being chased by a sociopathic doll and a creepy box, and you're not being funny." Knuckles was also not being very happy at being insulted.

"I'm sorry, I thought you wanted my help. But if you're not gunna laugh…" Knuckles began to devolve into a little child, crossing his arms and turning around as if he were on the jungle gym, and Tails was a little nerd outside of the play group. Tails had seen enough of that analogy before…

"Ha, ha, F'ing ha, Knuckles. Could you please just tell me how to stop this curse?" Knuckles ignored him, but lucky for the kitsune, from behind the emerald walked Tikal – priestess of the lost Echidna tribe; or at least her spirit. Even better.

"Maybe, if you grovel first." Tails smacked his forehead in frustration. Ever since Knuckles had started talking with her, she had started to become more and more like him… Hell, he wouldn't be surprised if Knuckles outright told him that they were having a baby. After today, who knew? Anything was possible.

Grudgingly, Tails bent on one knee, ensuring that at the very least he was pointed toward Tikal and not Knuckles, of all people. They'd find him dead before they'd find him groveling to that Neanderthal.

The two echidnas high-fived each other, before Tikal began her explanation.

"You're being followed by a spirit, and he's not going to rest until you satisfy his desires." Tails raised his hand, as if he were in a classroom. Better to be a smart-ass than a dumb-ass, after all. After rolling her eyes, Tikal played along.

"Yes, Tails?"

"You lost me after you started talking." Tikal facepalmed.

"Your stalker wants you to do something. I'd suggest you do it." Tails raised an eyebrow.

"Any hints, or should I call his cell?" Perhaps fear had made him sarcastic. Or maybe he was just pissed off. Regardless, it was the only joy he had gotten in the past few hours, so he was going to stick with it.

"I'd give you his number," a familiar voice called out from behind; "but I kinda left in a hurry." Tails whirled around to face a rather beat up Sonic the Hedgehog, who looked like hell. Twigs dangled from his dulled quills, and he sported a black eye, but all in all… the relieved kitsune was just glad he was still alive.

"May I finish?" Tikal coughed politely, interrupting Tails's infinitely long hugging spree with his older brother salvaged from the dead.

"Listening." Tails called out behind him, reluctant to relinquish his brother after having lost him.

"I think he wants you to open the box that's-" Tails cut her off.

"Out of the question."

"Fine, if you won't, I will." Tails turned around to behold the dreaded sight of Tikal inserting the tarnished silver key with the dreadful engraving…

Tails

Into the box with the metal clasps. Tails quivered in fear.

"Tikal, I'm begging you." She turned the key.

"Please, Tikal, stop!" The lock clicked open.

"TIKAL!!!" Slowly, like it was a band-aid, Tikal crept open the lid. It made the sound of nails scraping across a chalkboard, the sound of demonized souls rising from the underworld, the sound of death itself.

… Nothing. No zombies rising from their graves, no eternal damnation, just silence.

"… Tails… He wants you to burn it. He wants you to burn the house to the ground, and put this box in the fireplace when you do it." Tails watched as she removed a solitary picture from the box, and turned it around to show it off. The box was clearly visible in the flames around the fireplace, burning brighter than anything else.

Tails went white for the fifteenth time that day.

"No, Tikal. Anything but that. Send me to Shanghai, send me to 4Kids, send me to Hell, ANYWHERE but back to that house!" Tikal shook her head.

"It's the only way." Tails considered his options. Suicide, go to the house, spend the rest of his life in fear.

"C'mon, Tails. I'll go with you." Tails decided.

"I'll take door #2." Everyone involved raised an eyebrow.

"Care to elaborate?"

"Err, I mean, let's go." Note to self: when you talk to yourself, be sure not to listen to yourself. Tikal disappeared back into the Master Emerald, and Knuckles sat back down, waiting for another person to come by for him to fight against, or at least pretend to.

Tails jumped off of the island onto the edge of the forest, somehow directly below them. He would have thought it convenient had it not made the countdown to complete terror that much shorter. Sonic dropped to his left a moment later, somehow defying the laws of gravity that threatened to break his limbs in two.

"Let's go." Tails choked out through the lump in his throat, which was getting heavier by the minute. As expected, the box had followed the two off of the Island, and Tails picked it up. The key was still firmly lodged in its socket, its cruel engraving still horribly visible.

Tails

They began their march. The forest was silent at this time of day, the time where the twilight was imminent, and the sun was almost completely gone. Tails was thankful for each passing moment, for it meant another moment without overwhelming fear wrenching at his gut.

The unwelcome sight of the house came too quickly for the both of them. As Tails slowed down, Sonic nudged him ever forward.

"Yeah, thanks Sonic, thanks for sending me in there alone." Sonic stayed put. Tails took another step closer to the house.

The front door opened spontaneously. A good omen… or a bad one. Tails fought another gulp, he'd been doing it too often. The box in his hand shook, not from any inherent property, but from the fact that Tails couldn't keep his limbs from swaying in fear. It was all he could do to prevent himself from relieving the call of nature in front of Sonic.

As he stepped into the house, the door closed behind him, as expected. What creepy house wouldn't have creepy closing doors.

The lights immediately came on. The doll stood in the center room, between Tails and the fireplace. Just the two twins, staring each other down.

"I've come to burn the house to the ground." Tails said, confident in the face of pure evil.

"I know. I can't let you do that." The doll replied, staring back with its beady broken eye, which never closed.

"You can't stop me." Tails took a step forward. The doll took a step back, somehow.

"Fine. Go ahead and try." The doll stepped aside.

"If you dare." Tails gulped. The moment of truth. Now or never.

He took a step forward. The doll remained motionless. He took another, the doll was still as a statue.

In one great burst, Tails flung the box into the fireplace, and spun around quickly. Somehow, his hand collided with a switch, bursting the fireplace into flame. The doll had disappeared, but Tails's work was far from completed. Tails threw the lit logs from the fire across the room, where they ignited the wooden floors and fabric furniture. In minutes the place was aflame.

Smoke filled up the tiny room, but Tails was glad to finally be rid of the curse. Finally glad that it was over. He stood in the middle of the room, staring at the fire, enjoying the sense of destruction.

A creaking noise sounded above. Tails looked up only to find the lid of the box opening above him, as the rest became burned ashes around him. The body of Tails looked down upon him, eyes gleaming in the firelight, sick pleasure at the gruesome sight:

Tails couldn't move. He hadn't set the house on fire – he had set himself and the box on fire. The doll had tricked him.

"Enjoy your last few seconds of life, Tails… Because I'll be living the rest!" And then the lid closed, and darkness and flames were all that remained. No escape… No escape… No escape…