A/N:Another result of being sick. This time I'd been watching Ghost lab :) And as much as I adore this show and watch it obsessively...I cannot get their accents right.
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Things had been at a small stand still at Mordhaus. The members of Dethklok hadn't been wreaking havoc for the Klokateer's to clean up, and it had put a damper on the large home. Things were about to change. The boys were all lounging around, taking yet another day off from recording, when Toki ran into the room. He came to sudden stop, resting his hands on his knees while his chest moved quickly as he tried to regain his breath. His band members looked on with expressions of annoyance and confusion. It took him quite some time to be able to speak clearly. "Dere's…da…" he wheezed, his eyes wide. Murderface rolled his eyes, his temper quickly running out.
"Shpit it out!" he yelled, causing Toki to jump slightly. He took in a deep breath, his eyes wider still. He pointed to the doorway behind him, his feet moving in a sort of run in place jog.
"Da house is haunteds!" he yelled. The boys all looked at him with quirked eyebrows, not the response he had been expecting. He'd expected them to at least look a little shaken up, not like he'd grown a second head.
"Pfft yeah rights Toki. Likes I's goingks to believe dat," Skwisgaar said, rolling his eyes.
"Come ahn Toki. This place ain't haunted…uh, right?" he asked looking over at Nathan. Nathan scratched the back of his neck, only shrugging.
"Uh, well I don't know. But I guess it'd be pretty metal if it was…" Toki gaped at the four, his eyes flickering between the each of them. He started jumping slightly as he realized they didn't believe him.
"But is true! I's in my rooms and I's hears somethingk's!" he said throwing his hands in the air. They only looked at him dismissively. Murderface even had the audacity to turn away from him, going back to his video game. "Fines! Don't comes crying to me whens you all gets killed!" he yelled, turning on his heel and stomping from the room. Skwisgaar huffed.
The four were glad to have some quiet once again, the only sound coming from Skwisgaar's guitar and the video game Murderface was playing. That was when things got weird. "Nat'ans, coulds you please stops makingks those grumbles?" Skwisgaar snapped at the singer. Nathan only looked confused.
"I'm not making that noise…it must be Muderface," he said as he and the guitarist glared at him. Pickles shook his head, his eyes scanning the room slowly. Murderface seemed oblivious to the whole thing.
"Dood, I don't think it was him. What the hell is that?" he asked only for the loud groaning noise to continue. Murderface glared at the three of them, a loud bing signaling that he'd lost his game.
"Would you assholes shtop with all the noishesh?!" he yelled. The three of them looked at each other, all thinking the same thing. Maybe Toki had been right after all.
"That wasn't us dood," Pickles said quietly, shrinking back into himself as he looked around for the source of the noise. The four sat quietly, looking at each other suspiciously. The groaning only continued. "I'm outta here!" Pickles screamed, jumping from the hot tub and running from the room, the others only following him. The group ran down the hall, stumbling over each other as they fought to get to Toki's room first. When Skwisgaar shoved the door open, they found the scared Norwegian hiding under his covers.
"You weren't kidding Toki! The house is fuckin' haunted!" Nathan said loudly, pressing his back against the door in order to make sure nothing else could get it. Toki peeked out from his blanket, glaring up at his band mates.
"I's told you! Buts no one ever listen to Toki!" he huffed, pulling his blanket back over his head. Pickles looked around wide eyed. Murderface was huddled underneath Toki's desk, and Skwisgaar seemed to be the only one that had calmed down.
"Dere's perfeks expla'tions for dis," he said with a firm nod. Someone had to be the voice of reason, it might as well be him. Nathan's expression said that he might possibly agree with the Swede, the others weren't as willing to believe.
"Yeh well of course there is…the house is fuckin' haunted that's what!" Pickles yelled, cowering by Toki's bed. Murderface had begun to shake and grumble under the desk, his eyes growing wide. He glared up at the blond, ready to defend himself for being scared.
"Well then why don't you go out there then mishter I'm sho brave," he spat. Skwisgaar froze, blinking a total of three times before responding.
"…Whut's?" he asked. The others seemed to agree with Murderface for once. Nathan opened the door, stepping aside. "Fines…I goes to looks. Pfft, dis dildos. Scareds of ghosts like littles cries babies," he muttered, walking out into the hall. They all watched as Nathan closed the door back, leaning against it once again. It wasn't long until there was a banging on the door. "Let's me ins! Nat'ans lets me ins!" Skwisgaar stumbled into the room, his eyes wide and breathing labored.
"What's was out dere?!" Toki wailed, his eyes the only thing visible from under his blanket. Skwisgaar placed a hand on his chest, breathing in and out deeply.
"I don'ts knows! Dere's somethingk's at the ends of de hall!" before any of them could ask further questions, the already dim lighting in Toki's room flickered before going out, leaving them in darkness. The sounds of five rock stars could be heard throughout Mordhaus.
"Shomeone'sh trying to kill ush!" Murderface screeched, a loud crash sounding as he leapt out from under the desk. The lights quickly came back on, to show Pickles half way under Toki's bed and Nathan holding a terrified Skwisgaar bridal style. Murderface threw the bedroom door open, looking both ways down the hall. "I'm out of here!" he yelled, taking off down the hall, his friends not far behind. They ended up in Charles' office.
"Boys…I can assure you that the house isn't haunted. I'm sure there's a reason behind everything that happened," he said calmly.
"Is what I said, buts den I saws somethingk's at the ends of de hall!" Skwisgaar yelled. Toki threw himself at Nathan, cowering against the large singer.
"I don't wants to die!" he wimpered, only furthering the chaos in the manager's office. But down the hall and around the corner, were two Klokateers, each snickering loudly under their masks.
"That was too easy," one wheezed through his laughter, shutting the door to the fuse box on the wall in front of him. His friend nodded, holding onto his stomach and pulling a cord that lead to a piece of equipment used for the lighting at Dethklok's shows. Charles, it seemed, had been right yet again.