It fell to Carlito to bring Feliciano in and lay him on the bed beside Antonio. Lovino watched, expressionless, and Arthur suspected he was in shock. No-one spoke throughout the process and it stayed silent even after Matthew had locked the door again. For a while, they were each left to their thoughts.

And then it started.

"If you had told us," Lovino said, his voice shaking, "we wouldn't be in this situation." He looked up at Arthur, his face slowly morphing into one of rage.

"I didn't think it was real," whispered Arthur, dropping his gaze.

"My brother's dead."

"I know."

"Antonio's dead."

"I know!" Arthur bit his lip again, holding back tears. Whatever excuses he handed to Lovino, he knew that the Italian was right. This was his fault. He should never have let them enter the house.

"We're trapped here."

"Yes."

Lovino snorted in derision. "Who knows who's next?"

"Please," Arthur pleaded, wishing he would stop. He wasn't sure he could take it if he continued.

"It's not Arthur's fault," snapped Francis, glowering at Lovino. Arthur felt himself relax a little and shot Francis a grateful look.

"Of course it is!" shouted Lovino. "Whose else is it?" He paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing further as he glared at Francis. "I thought you were Antonio's friend? Why are you taking his side?"

"Isn't Arthur your friend?" Francis demanded in turn. "I know he's... he's dead but you can't blame Arthur for something he was unaware of-"

"He was! He said so before we came in!"

"He wasn't sure of what he knew!"

"I'm right here!" Arthur snapped. "I can speak for myself."

"Then do it," said Lovino, turning his glare back to Arthur. "Why didn't you stop us coming in here?"

Arthur stared at Lovino for a moment, considering his and Francis's words. Both of them were right, he realised. He was to blame, but perhaps only partially. "Would you have believed me if I told you it didn't feel right?" When Lovino tensed and didn't answer, Arthur folded his arms. "See? I know I should have said something but... would it have made a difference to the outcome?"

"We would have been more careful."

"I don't think that's an option," said Arthur, glancing towards Feliciano's face: Carlito had closed his eyes, thankfully. He thought back on Feliciano's actions and his own in the other room. "I think... I think whatever's in this place can compel you to do things you wouldn't normally do in a dangerous situation. Such as running away from the group. Or following a shadowy figure to a remote part of the house..."

Again, Lovino snorted. "So we're not even safe here?"

"If we look after each other," Matthew piped up, "we can probably make sure no-one wanders off."

"Head count!" Alfred declared.

Everyone paused to count everyone and several of them nodded at the result. At that point, Francis moved over to the girls whose cheeks were still wet from the tears and sat between them, hugging them both to his chest in comfort. They clung to his shirt and Mickaela began to sob again, muffled now.

"Since you've stopped arguing," Carlito said, "I would just like to point out that it's not Arthur's fault at all."

"What?" asked Arthur, amazed.

"You're not the one who dragged us on this trip."

Everyone froze as Alfred tensed. "What was that?" the American asked through gritted teeth.

"You heard me."

"I didn't know this would happen!" Alfred snapped.

"But, if we're blaming people, we should put the blame on you," said Carlito, sneering at him. "After all, most of us didn't want to come on this trip until you whined about it. You're such a child and the rest of us would rather placate you than listen to you being so irritating."

"You-!"

"Alfred!" cried Matthew, stepping between the two of them as Alfred started towards Carlito. "Carl, stop antagonising him."

The room went silent, except for the heavy breathing of Alfred as he tried to calm down. Carlito looked smug but he abided by Matthew's wishes and made sure Alfred didn't catch sight of his expression. After a moment, Myriam sat up and pulled away from Francis: Mickaela copied her but let Francis keep his arm around her.

"Does it really matter who is to blame?" asked Myriam, frowning at them all. "We do not need to know who got us into this mess – we need to find a solution."

"What do we do?" asked Mickaela. "Every time we leave the room, someone..."

"Well..." said Matthew slowly, shifting guiltily. "I was thinking... These... things... seem to understand us, right? Maybe we could barter our release somehow."

"With what?" asked Arthur, frowning. "I doubt they want anything in particular bar our lives."

"Maybe we can lay them to rest?"

"I think these spirits are too far gone to want that."

"We should find weapons," said Lovino, suddenly, surprising them.

"From where? This place is pretty much void of anything useful. Like a key," Arthur said, waving his hand rather dismissively.

"Maybe there's a poker," Alfred murmured with a shrug. "I mean, iron works against ghosts. Salt, too."

"This isn't bloody Supernatural," Arthur protested, rolling his eyes.

"But it's true, right, that supernatural creatures don't like horseshoes and stuff?"

Grudgingly, Arthur agreed. "I mean, it could work. But what's the likelihood that there'll be something like that in here."

"What's the likelihood that there would be candles here?" Francis pointed out.

Silenced, Arthur glanced between them, both of them looking determined. "Well..."

"So it's agreed, then?" asked Lovino. "We'll go find some weapons?"

"We should split up again. Half stay with-"

"No," Lovino interrupted him. Arthur blinked, confused. "No," Lovino continued, standing with a sigh and moving away from the bed. "No, we'll leave them here. I doubt they'll touch them. I mean, why would they? And we can come back for them."

Arthur tensed. "But... But if we leave them, then Feliciano..." He bit his lip again before taking a deep breath to finish his sentence in a trembling voice. "Died for nothing."

"I don't want to sit here and do nothing!" Lovino snapped. "It was horrible waiting for you to come back. So I want to go. But Alfred will want to and so will Carl and Matt and you. And then Francis will want to tag along and we can't leave the girls. So we should all go."

"Antonio was taken from our group because it was so big – we can't risk that again."

"We can split into pairs and search."

"Are you crazy?!" exclaimed Arthur. "That's the last thing we want to do. If one of the pair is killed the other will be alone and will die as well."

"Why do we not split into two groups and both search?" suggested Myriam.

"But-"

"I think that's for the best," agreed Francis, ignoring Arthur's flustered and upset posturing.

"Alfred and Carlito should be in separate groups," said Lovino, ignoring their protests. "So I say: me, Matthew, Alfred and Arthur in one group; Francis, Myriam, Mickaela and Carlito in the other."

It took them a while to all agree on that and, after several short arguments, they finally all nodded to each other. "Lovino's group will head left and past the stairs," declared Francis, "and we will go right."


Arthur's group went out first as they had the furthest to go and cautiously made their way along the corridor. Occasionally, a floorboard would creak and they would pause to listen for things approaching. Luckily, nothing appeared and they made their way past the first room they had regrouped in. When they reached the stairs they stopped and Arthur leaned out over the wall, holding his candelabra high in an attempt to see what was downstairs. The light only reached so far down them and glinted off the chandelier so they moved on.

"Do this room by room or down one side and back along the other?" asked Alfred, glancing between two identical doors which faced each other.

"One at a time," said Arthur. "If we get to the other end and we have to run, we'll have at least looked in most of them."

"Right." Alfred picked the left door and gingerly pushed it open. It creaked loudly and all of them winced.

Since nothing seemed to happen, Matthew peered in, holding the second candelabra (the one Feliciano had been holding before) high in order to see. He shook his head and stepped inside. "There's nothing here," he told them. Arthur looked in as well and found himself looking at an unfurnished room: there wasn't even a curtain rail. There was, however, a window and, feeling as though he should try doing something, he moved over and tried the latch. He found that it had melted somehow and was stuck.

Moving back out, Matthew closed the door and Arthur held one of the candles close to it. When Alfred asked what he was doing, Arthur explained that he was marking it so that everyone knew which rooms they had already explored. Once some wax had dripped onto it, he blew on it to cool it before stepping back to admire his work: the blob of wax was at head height so that everyone could see it at a glance as they passed by.

He just hoped that whatever was in the house wouldn't remove it or know what it was for.

They crossed the hall and then continued in this manner along the corridor, barely speaking but to declare the contents unworthy. Some of them had beds and others had desks but, for the most part, there was nothing in any of them. Arthur marked all of the doors though Lovino began to get restless about halfway along the corridor. He began to shift his weight, wanting to move along when Arthur slowly and carefully spilled the wax. Sometimes he grumbled under his breath, saying they should be going quicker.

The silence was also getting to Alfred and Matthew: they began to glance around, peering along the hallway and startling when Arthur spoke to say he was done. A couple of times, Matthew paused, saying he had heard something and they all held their breaths, waiting to see what would come of it. However, no-one heard what Matthew was hearing and, after a few moments with nothing happening, they moved on.

Surprisingly, Arthur was the only one not tense – he could not hear giggling or voices whispering his name from everywhere and nowhere so decided they were safe for the time being.

Finally, halfway along the corridor, they came upon a bigger room. It turned out to be a large dining room, its table running the length of it. Large windows showed the darkness outside and the moonlight shining upon the world. Cabinets at the side displayed large dishes and utensils which appeared to be silver. Bottles of various liquids were on display, their labels covered in dust. A gigantic fireplace made the room colder than the rest of the house as the wind howled above them. Beside it, on an appropriate stand, were several tools for building fires. Alfred gave a cheer when he spotted it and rushed forward.

"Awesome! Didn't think we'd ever find something!"

Lovino hurried over as well and grabbed the poker before Alfred could. "Get your own," he snapped, holding it out of Alfred's reach.

"Fine!" Alfred retorted, pouting. He grabbed the toasting fork and the heavy shovel which he passed to Matthew.

"What? Why do I get that?" asked Matthew, eyeing the fork.

"Because I got here first."

Rolling his eyes at their arguing, Arthur tuned them out and opened one of the cabinets after setting down his candelabra. A rush of air seemed to pass him but, when he glanced around, he saw nothing out of place. Holding his hand out, he realised he couldn't feel anything now. It was rather like he had released something he couldn't see. Unnerved, he returned to his task – pulling out the large silver carving knives he had spotted. He held one close to the candles and peered at it. Sure enough, there was a mark to confirm it was silver. Whoever had lived there must have been rich to have these. But, as much as he had mocked Alfred for using Supernatural as a reference, he thought these would be a better weapon than the candelabra so he decided to take them.

He straightened and turned to the others who had stopped bickering by now and were watching him as he tucked one of his knives into his belt. "What?"

"Didja find something?" asked Alfred.

"I've got weapons." He held up the other knife in demonstration.

"Cool. Let's get back to the others."

In the hallway, Arthur took the lead, eager to get back to a room which they could be safe. However, they had barely gotten a few feet from the dining room when he was stopped in his tracks by the appearance of the shadowy figure from before. "No," he whispered as he heard the others stop behind him.

Nobody moved for quite some time until Alfred stepped up beside Arthur, standing quite close to him. Arthur could feel him tremble – or maybe that was Arthur himself. "Why isn't it attacking?" he muttered under his breath.

"How the fuck should I know?" answered Arthur.

"Sorry, dude. I just... What should we do? Go back?"

"Back where?" demanded Lovino, keeping his voice low.

"Well, I dunno – maybe there's, like, servant stairs or something. This house is some really old shit."

Matthew sidled closer and spoke up. "Maybe we should try talking to it?"

"Talking?!" Arthur hissed, barely remembering to keep his voice down.

"Well, yeah. Maybe we just need to ask nicely to leave. We did kind of barge in..."

"I don't think that's a good idea..."

"It's better than nothing," Lovino said, glancing over his shoulder.

"But this is the same thing that killed Feli without question," Arthur protested. "Surely it will do the same to whoever gets closer?"

"There's only one way to find out," said Matthew. He passed the candelabra to Lovino and took a step towards the thing. Before he could take another, Alfred's hand shot out and grabbed his elbow.

"What the fuck are you doing, Mattie?" he hissed, leaning towards him as if he could stop the others from hearing. Noise carried within the hall, though, and they could clearly hear them. Arthur stepped closer to the wall, to try to give them some more privacy.

"Listen, Al," sighed Matthew, "this is our best chance of getting past it. Look; I've got a weapon. If it tries to attack me, I can defend myself. I won't get too close and I'll only ask it to let us past for now. And I'll apologise for intruding and maybe that'll help us."

Alfred tensed, staring into his cousin's eyes. Then, finally, he took a deep breath and, as he released it, he let him go. He gave Matthew a nod and stepped back. Matthew nodded to him in gratitude before turning and making his way forward.

He stopped about five feet from the figure and peered up at it. "Hello. I'm terribly sorry for intruding and everything but may we go past? We'll be out of your... house soon."

The figure didn't move or say anything. As Arthur watched them, he began to feel the sensation of being watched again. Gasping slightly, he gripped his candelabra tighter, drawing comfort from the light.

That was the exact moment something flew through the shadow figure and struck Matthew's chest. While the shadow disappeared, Matthew swayed on his feet. At first, Arthur wasn't sure what he was witnessing. Then Matthew turned towards them, eyes wide, mouth agape – with some sort of pole sticking out of him. From the location, Arthur presumed it had hit his heart.

For a brief moment, Arthur's eyes met Matthew's shocked ones.

Then Matthew toppled forwards, landing on his knees before collapsing onto the pole. Instead of his body slumping to the floor, he was held up by the weapon before he slowly began to slide down it. Arthur watched him, staring in horror at the bloody smear being left on the point of the weapon which now stuck out of his back. It appeared to be a spear but he didn't have time to dwell on that fact.

"Matthew!" cried Alfred and he rushed forward, his hands waving around as he tried to think of what to do, a clatter echoing as he dropped his poker. Finally, he dropped to his knees beside Matthew and laid him onto his side, cradling his body to him. "Hey! Hey, Mattie, c'mon. Don't do this to me – Mom'll kill me." He gave a weak chuckle as if to encourage Matthew to laugh. "C'mon. Hang in there. Mattie?"

Arthur and Lovino circled around them. Looking down at Matthew's face, Arthur could see that his eyes were wide and unseeing behind his crooked glasses. A dribble of blood had escaped his mouth and was sliding down towards Alfred's hand as he rocked back and forth, patting at Matthew's cheek, trying to wake him. Glancing towards Lovino, Arthur could see his resigned expression: the Italian had just gone through the same thing and knew that words would not help.

Deciding to try to provide comfort to his friend through physical contact, Arthur stuck the knife he was carrying into his belt and reached for him. Alfred saw the move and flinched away. Arthur froze and watched as Alfred jerked his head up, glaring at him.

"No!" snapped the American. "Stay away! This- It's not-" He stopped and growled, his eyes narrowing further and Arthur could see the pain and fury in his eyes – and that fury was directed at Arthur.

Biting his lip to keep it from trembling, he stepped back, realising Alfred blamed him for what had happened. Clearly he thought that Arthur should have backed him up or dissuaded Matthew better. Maybe he thought as Lovino did, that this whole venture was Arthur's fault. And it was; he certainly agreed with them. If only he could remember, if only he knew how to protect his friends, how to get them out alive.

He glanced at Lovino who simply stared back, his gaze seeming empty but Arthur imagined that, behind the numbness and grief, he could see the anger directed towards him. It was evident to Arthur that Lovino still blamed him and had just added another death to the list of Arthur's victims.

Somewhere close and far away, someone giggled.

Unable to deal with the two people who now hated him the most, Arthur dropped his candelabra, spun around and ran, heading along the hall. He didn't know where he was going or how long he'd survive on his own but he couldn't stop himself. Distantly, he heard shouting, perhaps his name, maybe he could make out worry. For the most part, though, he heard giggling as he left the light and stepped into the darkness.


I'm sorry - I didn't mean for Matthew to die in this chapter. But I realised that all I wanted in this chapter turned out to be just till the break and I decided it would be best to make sure it was longer.