Notes: Handful of the Unknown is a series of unrelated one-shots following Arnold aged 21 or up. May have one-sided slash. Has kidnapping. RATING MAY GO UP.

So I watched Hey Arnold the Jungle Movie and immediately had the urge to write and read fanfic. I don't think this infatuation will last long, but I figured I'd share what I have. This first one-shot assumes Arnold never met his parents.

Summary: In his full 21 years, Arnold had never experienced anything supernatural. Life was mundane, predictable, and rooted in reality. But when a wanted man, La Sombra, invades his home, with him comes the impossible: ghosts. Now cursed with the ability to see them, Arnold fights to escape La Sombra's control...and to lift the curse. Ghost AU

Impossibilities and Mysteries

A young man propped his feet atop the armrest of the couch and adjusted his grip on the book as he turned a page. Green eyes skimmed through the words as a breeze whispered into the room from the open window. A white hand combed through blond locks as he shifted, coldness creeping through the red plaid shirt. He half debated on closing the window when the phone atop the coffee table buzzed.

He glanced at the screen, swiped a finger, and pressed speaker phone before lounging once more. "I can't tonight, Gerald."

"Oh c'mon, Arnold!" His best friend laughed. "I didn't even ask, yet!"

"You didn't need to."

"It's Friday! Homework can wait but the boys won't! Drinks are on me."

Arnold rolled his eyes, half wondering if he'd be able to read and talk at the same time. "I'd rather not flunk Finals, thanks."

Static crackled as Gerald scoffed. "Yeah? Then how long have you stared at the same page without actually reading it?"

"I've taken breaks! There's only a week left and I'm behind enough as it is. I really can't go tonight." Before Gerald could speak he added. "At all this weekend. You should study too. Even if Phoebe has helped you this semester, it wouldn't hurt to do some more."

"Aw, man! You're no fun, Arnold."

"I'll party after Finals are over. We can have a snowball fight."

"Didn't you hear? There'll be a bad snowstorm that weekend."

The curtains shuffled as another breeze blew into the room and the ceiling creaked. The floorboards groaned as the house rattled and he almost thought he heard footsteps before dismissing the thought. No one lived in the boarding house except him now. On one hand it was lonely to have the big old place to himself. On the other hand it was handy to let his friends stay or to rent out rooms to the occasional visitor or two.

He tossed his legs off the armrest and swapped the book for his phone and headed to the kitchen. "Alright, well I've got plenty of board games we could play instead."

"Arnold," Gerald laughed. "How old are you?"

He smiled and rifled through kitchen cabinets as mice skittered in the ceiling. "21 and ready for fun."

"Arnold, no!"

"Board games are fun! Geez, where's your inner kid, Gerald?"

"Must've lost it somewhere. Maybe it was stolen by that La Sombra guy."

Arnold snorted, torn between a can of chicken noodle or a box of mac n cheese. "How much you think he'd sell it to the black market for? Childhood is priceless after all. He'd make a fortune."

"Naw." Gerald tone switched from playful to contemplating as he grabbed the box. "Hey, I read online that someone busted him outta jail again. This time though, he's headed towards Hillwood."

"A place like this?" Arnold frowned and opened the fridge. "What could he possibly want from here?"

"Probably just passing through." Gerald paused. "Still, be careful, you hear?"

He scanned the near empty shelves and realized he had no butter. Or milk for that matter. "Right back atcha. Listen, it's mac 'n' cheese tonight but I need a few things from the corner store. I'll talk to you later, alright?"

"Take care." The phone beeped.

He pocketed the device and placed the box atop the counter before shuffling into the dining room followed by the hallway. Footsteps almost seemed to echo his own as he passed the living room and walked upstairs. Once he grabbed a winter jacket with the house keys from his room and double-checked his wallet had cash, he turned off the lights and wandered downstairs.

The trip to the store was uneventful, but when he approached his house and spotted the skylight of his room, his stomach churned. Didn't he turn off the lights before he left? He hurried up the stoop and clutched the grocery bags tighter, fumbling for his keys. Shaking hands stuffed the key into the lock and turned the knob, opening the door to reveal an empty hallway.

He stumbled forwards, closed the door, and dropped the bags before rushing upstairs as his jacket flowed behind him. He had to know.

The door swung open beneath white knuckled hands and he scanned the room. No one was there. He sagged against the wall with a hand over his heart. Just forgot to turn off the lights, that was all.

Clothing rustled and a click pierced his ears. "Hello, el joven."

Arnold jerked, gaze darting to the stranger stepping out of his closet, and froze. The man had a gun. His breath hitched. And it was aimed at him.

"La Sombra?" His mouth garbled the foreign words but the stranger seemed to understand.

"Si." The criminal leisurely approached. "And you are my prisoner. I've been in need of an...assistant, you could say."

"B-but–" Arnold flinched as La Sombra pressed the gun beneath his chin and tilted upwards, forcing him to lift his head.

"Tell me, el joven, do you believe in ghosts?"

Sweat formed atop his temple as fear pounded in his chest. "N-no."

"Ah, qué pena," La Sombra shook his head with a frown. "But you'll have to do."

Brown fingers decorated with rings grasped the edge of his shirt and lifted. He jolted despite the gun at his head and protested. "What're you–"

"Relájate. This will only hurt a bit…"

Several somethings sharp and small stabbed his bared stomach. He gasped, curling around himself and past the gun as he crumbled to the floor. Fire seemed to spread from the source of the pain and he groaned, clutching his stomach. His head felt light and he screwed his eyes tighter as the blood in his body felt like it was bubbling.

Barely, he realized the man had stepped away from him, murmuring to someone. But they were the only ones there, so how…?

He whined as the pain pulsed before fading fast. He blinked, startled and disoriented, before uncurling himself to glare at La Sombra and…he reeled, eyes blown wide.

"Wha–"

Someone else had appeared. Transparent, floating, and most definitely not real. He stared. La Sombra smiled in an eerie sort of way as his partner looked at his kneeling form with a gaze that couldn't be human. Because that man had died years ago.

"Ah, mi amigo, meet my partner, Scheck. He helped me escape that rotten prison and guided me here. To you, actually."

Arnold's jaw dropped. "You're not real. You can't be real." He pressed his back against the wall, voice trembling. "You died."

Scheck's pale blue lips stretched into a grotesque smirk. "I did. And I've been trapped in this wretched limbo ever since."

"B-but…" he stuttered, skin paling to an unhealthy shade. "That's not possible. I'm dreaming. Ghosts aren't real."

La Sombra snorted before grasping Arnold's plaid shirt and hauling him to his feet. "They are, niño. And now that you can see them, you can help me."

"This is insane." He tried to wiggle free but La Sombra held tight. "I'm insane. This isn't real."

La Sombra dragged him out of the room and down the stairs as Scheck spoke. "If this horrid place hasn't changed in the last decade, then Elk Island should still be secluded. His friends won't think to look there and it has plenty of resources."

Knowing Scheck was right, Arnold rifled through his mind in attempt to conjure a way to trick them. "N-no! Not at all, Agatha Caulfield is still there and so is Sheena's uncle Earl! They're still around! They'll find me if we go there."

Scheck stared him down and he averted his gaze, sweating bullets. "The boy's lying. All the more reason to go."

He yelped as La Sombra shoved him out of the building, down the stoop, and into the trunk of a nearby car. He surged upwards but La Sombra slammed the door shut and he was sealed in darkness.

~oOo~

Notes:

I don't plan for any Arnold x Helga one-shots, but there might be some where Helga has unreciprocated feelings for Arnold. There might be some Gerald x Phoebe. Otherwise, I plan for some gayness to happen to poor, unsuspecting, straight Arnold. Ha!

Thanks for reading and lemme know whatcha think!