"Hunk, my man, roll call!"
Pidge peeked up from his laptop and paused the video he was reviewing. He hadn't noticed Lance gathering his folders or Hunk moving in closer to the table. A quick glance at the clock confirmed it; 7:30 A.M. Meeting time. That meant he had accidently pulled an all-nighter. Again.
"Wait," Pidge called, "I'm not ready!"
"Nuh-uh! 7:30. On the dot. Every Friday," Lance said testily, "Sorry, I don't make the rules."
"Actually, you do. At least let him start the recorder, Lance." Hunk chided.
Pidge shot him a grateful look before bolting around to gather his notes and the equipment. After a moments debate, he decided to go ahead and take the time to grab himself a cup of coffee.
They were already late. Now that he was away from his shadowed corner, he had to shield his tired eyes from the light of morning. How had he missed sunrise?
Well, the Witch Trap footage was far from boring. Really, it was a shame it would never air.
Returning to the meeting table, Pidge eyed Lance dubiously. He had insisted they resume business as usual despite… everything. He was looking rough, that was certain. There were bags under his eyes that rivaled Pidge's own and a sallowness to his skin that turned his usual bronze to an ashy gray. He was slumped back in his chair looking washed out and unnaturally still in the harsh sunlight pouring in the window. If he wasn't seeing the dust motes twirl in the air from Lance's breath, Pidge could almost convince himself he was looking at a corpse.
"Here," Pidge said, placing the coffee his own coffee in front of his friend, "It's rolling."
Pidge took his own seat and placed the recorder in between them.
"Alright, roll call!" Lance called again wrapping his hands around the steaming mug gratefully.
"Lance McClain? Pidge Gunderson? And, Hunk Garett, that's me!" Hunk listed in between the other's chimes of "here"s.
"Okay, all present! The time is 7:32 AM –Pidge, don't think I'll forgive the delay because of coffee, you rascal! –and thus commences the 84th weekly meeting of the neo Garrison University Paranormal Research Society. I am Lance McClain, your humble President; handsome, intelligent and 100% recovered from brief medical issues due to our previous case at Witch Trap. That concludes my report."
Lance ignored the dubious looks sent his way and motioned for Pidge to continue.
"This is Pidge Gunderson, technician. I'm reporting the footage of Witch Trap to be just about done editing wise. There's quite a bit of hard evidence, activity wise. As for whether we'll post it…?"
"Negative on that," Lance cut in, looking discomforted, "I'll be storing it in the GUPRS archives along with my own detailed report but I am censoring this one."
"We understand." Hunk said, Pidge nodding along.
"That said," Pidge continued, "My last bullet is that our equipment needs only minor repairs. Total cost around $15 dollars, maybe."
"I'll log it in the expense report." Lance nodded, "Hunk?"
"The last episode we posted – that's the Greene Manor case from two weeks ago – is sitting at 27,000 views as of last night. Not bad, but not our best. I've posted a slight hiatus notice on the site and twitter, and emailed the Witch Trap client about our findings. I've also been sorting through requests for a case worthy of week-long investigation to kick off summer break, if that's okay?"
"Sweet! Any good ones?" Lance asked more enthusiastically, loving the idea.
"Two, kind of. An old plantation in Kentucky and Transylvanian castle?" Hunk shuffled through his notes, "Sorry, that was a Romanian fortress."
"What?!"
"So cool!"
"Wait, hold up!" Hunk tried to calm them, "I'm still not sure it's a real case or just someone messing with us! Hypothetically, the client is a Countess."
"No way." Lance groaned, "Why would a Countess ask a bunch ok college kids from halfway across the world for help? Probably a scam!"
"We do have a fair amount of popularity," Pidge reasoned, "Couldn't hurt to look into it. We could always ask for more details and research the client a bit."
"Hunk, do that. Plan the Kentucky case, but if the other one is legit it has priority. Pidge, if you could maybe get some sleep before your finals tomorrow? Don't want anyone failing; I'd hate to have to kick someone out."
"Yessir!" They chirped in unison.
"Meeting adjourned, then!"
Shiro was watching gray mist creep along the moor after a long lockdown in the English countryside when his cell phone rang. Dodging Keith's inquisitive look, Shiro wasted no time in answering it.
"Allura? What's wrong, you always text?" he asked.
Keith fidgeted, trying very hard to not look like he was eavesdropping.
"Really? Katie Holt?" Shiro asked, "No, you're right. She should know. I've emailed her off and on since—Well. Yeah."
Shiro pulled the phone away from his ear to tap away at it, motioning for his companion to move closer.
"Okay, you're on speaker, Allura. Keith is right here."
"Hello again, Keith!" called a voice from the phone, tinny and distorted by long distance.
"Countess," Keith greeted, "Is everything alright?"
"Actually, not really," Allura admitted, "We've been having more and more incidences in the Castle of Lions. Violent incidences."
"That sounds serious. Will you allow us to come investigate now?"
"Keith!" Shiro scolded, "Don't push, she has her reasons!"
"No, it's quite alright. Even though the activity started when Shiro appeared on our land over a year ago it hasn't stopped since he left. I can no longer assume his presence will cause any additional risk to my staff. Not after…"
"What happened, Allura?" Shiro asked softly.
Keith frowned at the amount of guilt in his mentor's words. He knew whatever Shiro had done or brought about in that year hadn't been his fault, but the man often blamed himself for even the smallest of consequences.
"Shay, the possessed maid that I was telling you spoke of Katie Holt… We weren't able to shake the hold that was over her. She snapped herself out of it by fracturing her own spine. It must have been the pain that woke her."
Keith watched Shiro turn pale, and hated himself for not being able to comfort him.
"We'll be there in a week," Keith said, "We'll need more equipment and more information. Can you handle that?"
"Right away. I'll also handle talking to Katie Holt. I have one other stipulation though. It will be covered in the email."
Keith opened his mouth to protest.
"Anything you ask. We will be your guests, so we'll follow your rules."
"Thank you, Shiro. I look forward to seeing you again."
"Ditto."
Shiro snapped his phone shut and turned to Keith with a slight smile.
"Let's pack up, kiddo! We're headed to Romania."
This was the worst, the absolute worst part of the semester. His final was done, the lecture was done and Professor Iverson, that total asshat, was making them sit in silence for an hour as they waited for the bell to ring. Hunk and Pidge should already be in the HQ by now. Lance was ready, so ready to get out there and deck those ghosts in the face. Especially after the nightmare that was the last case.
After what seemed like an eternity of wallowing in his own angst the buzzer signaled their sweet release and Lance could almost cry for joy.
"Mr. McClain, if you would stay for a chat?" Professor Iverson called out as Lance tried to escape in the crush of people leaving the lecture hall.
Lance didn't bother hiding his groan, or his dismay. The animosity between him and the Professor was legendary and a few students sent him sympathetic glances. He made his way back to Iverson's desk and waited awkwardly for the room to empty. After the last straggler had slunk away, Iverson took another minute straightening his papers, just to torture him surely, before pinning Lance with a hard look.
"Sir?" Lance asked.
"I'm sure you are aware of my opinion of your little club activity—"
"The Garrison University Paranormal Research Society is a well-respected part of Garr U tradition, Professor, not a club." Lance recited. This conversation was far from new.
"—but I have a particular request for your little ghost club." Iverson continued, stressing both his opinion of the GUPRS and giving the impression that this was more of an order than a request.
Lance scowled for a moment before giving into the voice that sounded particularly like Hunk telling him to not give us a bad name, Lance, for the love of god, be professional!
"What can we do for you, Sir?" He asked. Go fuck yourself, he added in his head.
"I got a call from a friend, an important friend, asking for an investigation," He said, "I trust you all have passports, correct?
"Passports?" Lance asked, suddenly more interested.
"The Voltron Paranormal Investigators don't work with others." Keith said flatly, the ziiiiip! of his suitcase echoing with finality.
"This is the best lead we have on you know what, Keith," Shiro tried to soothe him, while attempting to pack away a mess of cameras and equipment, "Isn't that worth bumping shoulders with another team?"
"It's not about bumping shoulders! We can't promise their safety!"
"I understand, Keith, but they have tons of experience on their own. From what I can tell, most of their team is sensitive in the least. They won't be our responsibility." Shiro said.
"We have every intention of stirring up a non-human spirit, Shiro! No civilians!" Keith snapped.
There was a moment of tense silence, while Keith was visibly calming himself. Shiro gave up on his game of equipment Tetris and move to place a comforting hand on Keith's shoulder.
"What do you want to do, make demands of Allura?" he asked softly. If Keith asked him to, he would, "We could just decline the offer. We've made do with other leads before."
"That maid said his name, Shiro! This is it, we've waited a whole year for the Countess to let us investigate. If we just explained to her that these kids would be in danger—"
"They aren't kids, Keith, the GUPRS has plenty—"
"Did you just say the GUPRS?" Keith hissed.
"Hey, Pidge! Come look at this!" Hunk called from his desk, "Wake up, Piiiidddgge!"
Pidge stirred from his spot on the couch, groaning and stretching as his sat upright. He took a second to rub his bleary eyes and card through his wild hair.
"Wha-? This had better be important Hunk."
Hunk couldn't help but smile, despite the anxiety twisting in his gut. Grumpy, sleepy Pidge was his favorite Pidge. He patted the seat next to him at his desk and watched fondly as Pidge shuffled over. Once Pidge was settled in, slumped into Hunk's shoulder, he glared at the laptop.
"What's up? Did the A/V Club send another email over the mics we… liberated?"
"Ah," Hunk said, "No. Well, yeah, they did. But that's not it. Remember the weird scam case I told you and Lance about last week?"
"The supposed Transylvanian Duchess that supposedly wanted us to come help with a supposed demonic infestation?"
"Yup! I've been emailing for a while now. I actually sent a copy of one of our investigations, ya'know, why not?" Hunk replied nonchalantly, "And about an hour ago she sent back a video of the incident that caused her to reach out to us."
"You sent out an episode? Was it one that we had already aired?!" Pidge demanded.
"Well… I sent one of the episodes we decided not to post." Hunk clarified.
Pidge stilled.
"Was it…?"
"Yeah, that one."
"Hunk."
Pidge rubbed at his temples and sighed heavily through his nose. Hunk fidgeted. He felt a surge of guilt well up in his chest. Had he gone a little too far to send off an episode without his teams consent? That wasn't unforgiveable or even all that bad. He sent clips and did digital interviews all the time. That was his job as the GURPS front man. He was there to get the word out.
But footage that had been censored by Lance? That was bad. Footage of Witch Trap? He would be lucky if Lance merely broke his nose when he found out.
He hadn't done it to be an asshole though. And he hadn't done it thoughtlessly.
Something in the emails had rung true to Hunk. Some of the described phenomenon had been just a little too… real. The woman wasn't asking for much, not even for them to film an episode.
Just that they help in any way they can.
"She's not a Transylvanian Duchess, Pidge." Hunk said, "Her name is Countess Allura Altea and she lives in a Romanian fortress called the Castle of Lions. And she's real. I googled her."
Pidge swiveled in his seat the send a Hunk a pointed look.
"So she's real," Pidge said slowly, "That doesn't make this not a scam."
"She sent me a video of one of her maids, supposedly possessed. I think you should watch it," Hunk told him with measured gentility. "You, in particular, should watch it."
Hunk pushed the laptop at his friend, with a grainy video loaded onto the screen. He watched his friend go pale as the video started. He averted his eyes from the video, he had already seen it once and that was enough for a lifetime. Besides the visuals – the strange contortions, the unblinking stare, the twisted smirk—they weren't what was important. It was her words.
She was hissing and laughing in what Hunk could only assume was Romanian before switching to English and muttering out an address over and over.
"That's… the address of our headquarters? That's here." Pidge muttered.
The warm sunny feel of their safe haven suddenly felt cold and strange. Like an unseen threat lurked. But that was impossible, Lance's Abuelita blessed this place twice a month, as did the local priest.
"Keep listening," Hunk said, wrapping a comforting arm around his friend.
The maid continued chanting their address over and over ignoring the cameraman shouting at her in Romanian, and just when Hunk felt like it would never end- "Tell pretty little Katie Holt that her family sends their regards!"
The video ended and an oppressive silence settled over them. Hunk wanted to say something, anything, but any words turned to dust in his mouth.
"Pidge," he started.
"Send me that video," Pidge said shortly, "We need to somehow convince Lance to go to—"
The door slammed open causing the two to jump a foot into the air. Hunk had a hand in his desk, wrapped around a vial of holy water in a second only to whip around to the sight of Lance, arms outstretched and infectious grin on his face.
"Pack your bags, my dudes!" Lance cried out, "We're going to Transylvania!"
"I don't understand why we have to pick them up." Keith grouched, crossing his arms.
He wasn't fond of airports. Too many people.
"Allura's staff is busy setting up rooms for us. Besides, they were from a year below you at Garrison, right? Don't you know them?" Shiro asked, holding up their sign with a hastily scrawled "GUPRS" in sharpie up as yet another wave of passengers walked past them. No takers.
"No. I disbanded the club before I dropped out. Too many ignorant people messing with things they shouldn't. It was dangerous, so I ended it after I was given the President position in my sophomore year. They would have showed up later," Keith scowled, "And undid all my work by starting it up again."
"I see."
"Hey, Lance! Pidge! I found 'em!"
Shiro and Keith looked up at a close by shout to a big man with a headband and a broad smile waving at them. He rushed up and shook Shiro's outstretched hand.
"Hey, the name's Hunk Garett," He told him happily, "You must be Shiro of the Voltron Paranormal Investigators, right? The Countess told us you would be here."
"That's me," Shiro confirmed.
He took one of Hunk's multiple bags off him and motioned for Keith to do the same. Another two people, one tall, gangly and dark the other petite and somehow familiar to Shiro, came up dragging Luggage behind them.
"This is Lance McClain, our President, and Pidge Gunderson, our technician." Hunk introduced them, "Guys, this is Shiro."
Shiro shook their hands in turn and gestured toward Keith.
"This is—"
"I know that mullet anywhere," Lance cut it bitingly, "Keith fucking Kogane."
Shiro watched as Keith stiffened, and surprisingly so did the rest of GUPRS. Hunk dropped his smile and friendly air in a second flat and Pidge snorted derisively.
"This is him, huh?"
"What? I thought you didn't know them Keith?" Shiro asked.
"I don't," Keith said with a furrowed brow.
"Yeah, right, asshole!" Lance cried, "You refused me entry to the GUPRS eight times in my freshman year!"
"Oh, you," Keith said lightly.
"'Oh, you', he says!" Lance hissed, getting into Keith's space, "Like he didn't singlehandedly ruin my whole first year!"
"Hey now," Shiro stepped in to separated them, "Let's all calm down."
"Yeah, Lance," Hunk said, "Don't let him ruin our fun summer investigation!"
"Plenty of time to dick punch him afterwards," Pidge added.
"Just try it, runt!" Keith snapped.
"No! No… none of that!" Shiro commanded, "Let's all settle down. Now."
They hushed down and turned to him, disgruntled but obedient. Shiro couldn't believe they listened.
"Okay," he continued, "Let's get over to the Castle of Lions. We can discuss how we will all get along and work together on this case after we get settled."
Shiro almost felt as if he was leading a group of rowdy children out of the airport with all the pouty looks and hostile glances. He had to separate Keith and Lance twice more on the way to the car. What am I? A paranormal researcher or a kindergarten teacher? He thought as he helped load the car and watched as Keith pointedly ignore Lance's call of "Shotgun!" and sat in the passenger seat. He sighed as Pidge and Hunk encouraged Lance's shocked screech with outraged gasps.
"Dude, you don't betray the sacred rights of Shotgun!"
"Yeah, not cool, Kogane!"
"Whatever, man, it's VPI's car," Keith retorted.
The older man did his best to fill the stony silence that had settled over the group through two agonizing hours of creepy rural Romanian car ride. He chattered on about his limited knowledge of the history of the Castle of Lions and some finer details to the activity Allura and her staff had experienced. Eventually, the GUPRS seemed to be warming up to him and asking question and even making jokes. Keith kept his sullen mood but put in the occasional detail Shiro had forgotten.
"Turn up the radio!" Lance called suddenly.
Keith shot him a questioning look but obliged knowing Shiro wouldn't. He had a firm "both hands on the wheel at all times" policy. He promptly regretted everything as the entire car was filled with a cacophony of horrible, horrible Romanian pop and three off pitch-college students.
"How do you all know the words?" Keith cried, Shiro shooting him an equally mystified look.
"Dude!" Lance crowed back, "How do you not know the Numa Numa song?"
"Because it's in Romanian?!"
Shiro almost cried in relief as the wrought-iron gates of the Castle came into view. He turned down the radio, ignored the chorus of "awww"s from the back and announced their arrival and urged them to get out and grab their luggage.
The Castle towered over a small fenced-in valley, with its back flush against a wide pine forest. Through the creeping mist Lance caught sight of a moat. A sudden chill dripped down his spine and he tore his eyes from the murky waters. There was an impressive amount of spires and towers, the castle being more tall than wide. A slightly overgrown, but nonetheless impressive garden sat of to the side. It even had a hedge maze.
"Allura!" Shiro called waving to a woman striding towards them in riding gear, pulling a horse alongside her.
"Shiro! How I've missed you!" She responded wrapping him in a warm embrace.
She turned to the give the rest of them appraising looks before breaking into a beautiful smile. Pidge and Hunk snickered at Lance's slight blush.
"Keith, welcome back. And you must be the GUPRS! Thank you for coming!"
"Our pleasure, Countess Altea." Hunk replied before Lance could put the moves on her.
"Oh, please! Call me Allura!" She laughed, "And leave your bags there, the staff will grab them."
She turned and started back to the castle, motioning for them to follow. Shiro fell easily into step beside her and Keith trailed after him.
The GUPRS traded looks, hanging back a moment.
"This is really happening." Hunk said.
"Crazy shit," Pidge agreed, "That's a fucking castle."
"Come on, GUPRS!" Lance ordered, "Let's rock it!"
Lance bolted toward, grinning. Pidge and Hunk laughed, jogging after him. By the time they had caught up they were entering a massive entrance hall as Allura handed her horse of to a stable boy just outside. The inside was just as austere and gloomy as the outside but held an air of undeniable wealth. High ceilings and deep red carpets greeted them. Servants were running about, shooting them inquisitive looks. A few waved and smiled at Shiro.
"Should we start by showing them to the room we'll use as headquarters?" Allura asked Shiro.
"Sounds good to me." He said.
Allura lead them up grand staircases and through winding hallways. Lance could easily see this place having a genuine spook or two.
"We'll be meeting Coran, my head butler." Allura told them, "He'll serve as your guide and main witness. He's the one all the staff report incidences too. Anything you need, he can point you in the right direction."
"Will we be able to interview the other staff members as well?" Lance asked walking alongside Allura, "And is there anywhere you don't want investigated?"
Keith and Shiro exchanged a glance of surprise. They had yet to see Lance in professional mode.
"Of course, talk to anyone as long as they consent to an interview. And go wherever you need! I'll ask that you inform me if you enter my personal wing, but you are welcome there as well." Allura said, "Here we are! This is the master suite, it belonged to my late father. He had it blessed many times and it is often regarded as the most holy place in the castle. Please, use it as your headquarters!"
They had stopped in front of ornately carved wooden doors. They were lead inside where they were greeted by a friendly man, Coran.
"A pleasure! A pleasure to work with you all!" He crooned, "I've set up tables and computers for you all to use in here, as well as a coffee pot! Figured you'll be needing it."
Lance watched Pidge and Keith discuss equipment placement with Coran for a moment before turning to where Allura, Hunk and Shiro where marking camera placement over what looked like a map of the castle. Feeling momentarily useless, he felt compelled to stroll over to the window to peak out over the grounds.
"We can conduct interviews with interested staff after dinner, right Lance?" Hunk asked. The three at the map looked up when no reply came and turned to where Lance was entranced at the window.
"Lance? Hey, buddy? You cool?" Hunk called again, getting the whole rooms' attention.
Still Lance stared intently out. After a moment of silence, Coran stepped up behind him. He placed a hand on his shoulder. Lance jolted violently and turned to the man with wild eyes.
"Get down!" he shouted shoving Coran harshly back.
"Lance! What—"
Then the window behind Lance exploded, raining jagged edges down unto him.