THE HOUSE
Chapter 7: Guilt
The screaming had stopped, yet it seemed to echo through her mind, making the silence in the room even more ominous. Shaking, Sam clambered to her feet, while trying to determine what exactly it was that made her feel so terrified. Next to her, Tucker was jamming his laptop into his backpack with jerky, uncoordinated movements, as if it was the only thing keeping him from rolling into a ball and whimper.
"What should we do," Dash whispered, all pretense of leadership and control gone.
His face was white and his eyes were wide in fear, Sam noticed. She ignored him, staring instead at the black hole of the door leading to the hallway. The one candle was hardly enough to light the room, let alone the the space beyond the doorway, and she felt like she was on an island, a bubble, surrounded by darkness.
"We find Danny and Kwan and we get the hell out of here," Tucker said in a tight voice.
He started moving around the room, searching first around the extinct candles, then further away.
"Great," he grumbled, "Wherever they went, they took my flashlight."
Sam suppressed a shiver, willing her body to obey her to get out of the paralyzed feeling she had. She bend forward, took two of the extinct candles and lit them in the flame of the last one burning. She handed one to Tucker, who had just put his backpack on his back, and one to Dash, who took it reluctantly. Then she picked up her own backpack and the last candle.
"Let's go," she said, surprised that her voice sounded confident and determined, instead of weak and trembling.
She went ahead, holding her hand close to the flame to protect it from sudden gusts of wind, trusting the others to follow her, which they did. The hallway seemed dark and forbidding, a feeling that was heightened by the moving shadows on the walls. A strong odor hung in the air, something that hadn't been there before. Tucker laughed nervously.
"Someone's been barbecuing," he said, trying to lighten the atmosphere of doom that hung over them.
Sam wrinkled her nose at the distinct smell of burned meat. No one in the house was cooking anything, of that she was sure, and with all that rain it couldn't come from the outside. The feeling that they needed to get out of the house was stronger now, and she looked longingly at the door.
"Get Danny," she thought, tearing her eyes away, "Then run like hell."
A small cry from Tucker diverted her attention from the invitation the door seemed to hold to her, and she looked to where he was pointing. The door to the dining room was open, and someone was laying on the floor, someone with black hair and a white t-shirt.
Without saying anything, Sam rushed past Tucker, throwing all caution to the wind, and knelt beside the unconscious form of Danny, laying on his back with his head on the doorstep with his eyes closed, breathing evenly, as if he were asleep. The smell of burnt meat was stronger here, way stronger, but she paid no attention to it. She put her candle down on the floor and shook his shoulders.
"Danny!" she said urgently, "Wake up!"
Tucker and Dash moved closer, holding their candles, and she carefully rolled him over to check if he was injured in any way. But other than a lump the size of an egg on the back of his head, he seemed fine.
"We have to get him out of here," she said.
Tucker stepped past her into the dining room, looking around. The far end of the room was in darkness, the light of the candle he was holding not being enough to light the entire room. Something shiny at Danny's feet caught his attention, and he bend over to pick it up.
"My flashlight," he said, clicking the button several times, and then shaking it. "Broken."
"You mean we only have those candles for light," Dash said, obviously trying to keep from panicking, "This sucks, man, they're useless outside." He paused. "What is that smell?"
He stepped over Danny, accidentally kicking his feet, and Danny moaned. Immediately Sam forgot all about the jock and turned her attention to her friend on the floor.
"Danny?" she whispered, shaking him again, "Wake up. Come on, wake up. We can't carry you all the way."
His hands moved to his head and he let out another long moan. Then he slowly opened his eyes, obviously having trouble focusing. She wondered if he had a concussion.
"S-Sam," he croaked, trying to smile, "What happened? Where am I?"
"You're taking a nap on the floor in the dining room, that's what you're doing," Dash said impatiently, "Where's Kwan?"
Danny looked at him, uncomprehending. He pushed himself up and rested on his elbows, wincing, then looked around with a baffled expression on his face.
"Kwan?" he asked, "How should I know? How did I get here?"
He pushed himself further up to a sitting position, then leaned back against the wall for support. Sam thought he looked very pale, but that could just have been the light. Suddenly his eyes widened, fear seemed to overtake him for a moment, before he managed to control himself again. With some effort, he slowed his breathing, and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again he seemed calm, but Sam knew that the fear was still near, he just wasn't showing it.
"That smell...," he whispered, "I... how...what happened?"
Sam shivered, remembering her dream, her nightmare, about the burning woman whose face had blackened, burning, dying in the flames. The same stench of burning flesh... it was right here, as if she was burnt here. She didn't understand how she could recall a smell from her dream so vividly, but she did. It was not something easy to forget, and she tried to swallow, but her mouth was dry. Where was Kwan?
"Danny," she said, "Why are you here?"
She didn't want to hear the answer. She didn't want to go looking further in the room. The urge to leave now was so strong that she started tugging his hands, trying to get him to stand up. He looked back at her, bewildered.
"I don't know," he said, his voice stronger now, "I must have fallen asleep, I was on your sleeping bag. I woke up here just now. I don't know how I got here... I was dreaming..."
A strange sound from the other side of the room stopped him and he looked up, trying to see what was happening. Dash had wandered away from them, walking in the direction of the kitchen, and in doing so, had rounded the table. He was standing there, frozen, holding his candle in front of him, staring at something on the floor.
"Dash? What's up?" Tucker asked.
Dash didn't answer, but kept staring, unable to move. His mouth moved, but no sound came out. Now curious, Tucker moved towards him, rounded the table as well and stood next to him. And froze. Sam watched in amazement and horror as she saw his face contort in fear and disgust, and then he turned around and was violently sick in the corner of the room. His candle dropped on the floor and it went out immediately.
Beside her Danny scrambled to his feet and rushed to Dash, and she followed him, knowing she probably didn't want to see whatever was there. She was right.
On the floor, beneath the painting, was a black, human shaped lump, still smoking. He wasn't recognizable, his hair and his clothes had all burned away, he was just a shape. The only way she knew it was Kwan, was that he was the one missing from their little group. She felt sick and was swaying on her feet, and then somebody grabbed her and pulled her away, to the other side of the room, so that the body of Kwan was out if sight.
She looked at Danny's grim face as he stared at her, his eyes uncommonly hard.
"What... what did you do?" she asked him.
That was not what she had wanted to ask him. She had wanted to ask whether he knew what had happened, whether they were attacked by something, and then he would have explained to her that he had had nothing to do with it, that he hadn't used his fire power on Kwan.
"I didn't do anything," he said, his tone of voice betraying that he was trying to convince himself, "I was sleeping. I was dreaming. It was a dream, a dream!"
A strange light was shining in his eyes, fear mixed with anxiety, and something else, something she had seen before, up in the attic. He's not mad, she thought, he's perfectly normal, just like the rest of us. The fact that he was pushing her against the wall, his hands grabbing her upper arms so tight she was sure she would have bruises later, didn't mean anything other than that he was scared too.
"Danny...you're hurting me," she said, trying to sound reasonable.
It took him a few seconds to comprehend what she was saying and with a mumbled apology he let go of her and turned around, to look at Tucker and Dash, who were both staring at him.
"I didn't do it!" he yelled at them.
Dash growled, took three big steps and grabbed Danny, pushing him against the wall next to Sam.
"What exactly didn't you do, Fenton," he snarled, "That was my friend. And he's dead! You'd better have a very good explanation for that, or I swear I'll..."
He didn't get to finish his sentence. Danny kicked him unexpectedly in the shins and Dash yelped in pain, easing his grip on Danny for just a moment. And a moment was all Danny needed. Eyes flaring green, he grabbed Dash and swung him around in an unusual display of strength, enhanced by his ghost powers, and slammed him against the wall at the precise spot he had been standing himself a moment before. Dash squeaked in surprise.
"I. Didn't. Do it," Danny growled.
He let go of the shocked jock and stepped back, slightly staggering, until he reached the edge of the table. Leaning against it, he seemed to deflate, his momentary anger subsiding while his eyes turned blue again.
"I'm sorry," he muttered.
Alarmed, Sam rushed forward, ready to catch him if he should fall, but he managed to stay upright. He waved his hand at her to indicate he was fine, although he clearly wasn't. She wondered just how hard he had hit his head, and if that was the only thing wrong with him.
"So, what happened then?" Tucker asked timidly.
He was shifting his feet, alternately putting weight on them, as if he was ready to bolt at any moment. Sam noticed he didn't come any closer to Danny, in fact he seemed to be edging away from him, as if the power that he had considered cool before, now terrified him. Next to her, Danny tensed. He had noticed it too.
"I don't know," he answered hoarsely, "I was laying on Sam's sleeping bag. I couldn't sleep. And then I must have fallen asleep anyway, because I was dreaming. Dreaming... And then I woke up here."
Sam touched his arm and he tensed, and then relaxed again, but she could tell it took some effort.
"What, did you walk in your sleep? What were you dreaming about, Fenton, setting fire to Kwan?" Dash asked, his voice thick with emotion.
"Not Kwan," Danny muttered, looking down.
A cold fear came over Sam and her mouth went dry. Not Kwan. Then who? Who did Danny hate enough to want to set him on fire? Did he dream about burning Plasmius, or even Dash? It occurred to her that she didn't even consider the fact that Danny might be innocent, that he really hadn't done anything to Kwan. He had been too happy with his new power, too eager to use it, to show off, even when he didn't really control it completely. It was that lack of control that had worried her in the past month, even if Danny had been practicing with it. It hadn't shocked her that he had burnt the candle earlier, it had been the lack of control over even the smallest of flames that had frightened her.
Dash stepped closer, careful not to grab him this time.
"Did you want to get me, Fenton? Did you? You're sick, twisted... I always knew there was something wrong with you. How did you do it anyway, where did you get the gasoline?"
Danny was shaking his head feverishly, wrapping his arms around his shoulders, hugging himself.
"I told you, I didn't do it! It was only a dream! I couldn't have done something like that, I would never, ever do that!" he yelled, "I've never hurt humans in my entire life!"
He was swaying on his feet and Sam grabbed hold of him, wrapping her arms around him, holding him tightly, while he tried to keep from crying, continuously muttering to himself 'I didn't do it'. He knew, she realized, he knew he had inadvertently killed Kwan, while using his ghost powers in his sleep. She also noticed he called them 'humans'. As if he didn't consider himself to be that.
"Hush," she said, trying to calm him down, "I know you didn't mean to. Let's just get out of this place, everything will be alright."
"No it won't," Dash said angrily, shaking his fist at them, "He's going down for this. I'll tell the police. He's a murderer!"
Sam knew he was right. There was no way everything was going to be alright ever again, even if they did manage to keep Danny out of jail. After all, there was no proof he did it, other than that he was found in the same room as Kwan, and had started denying before anybody had accused him of anything. Then it hit her that she was trying to cover up for him, to find excuses for what he'd done. She also realized she couldn't help herself.
Tucker hadn't said anything up until now, obviously realizing he was letting his friend down, yet seemingly somehow unable to stop fidgeting. He spoke now though.
"Let's...go outside. Please," he whispered, "Something bad is going to happen if we stay here, I know it. This house is alive, can't you feel it?"
Sam wholeheartedly agreed with him, and she started tugging Danny's arms to drag him away from the table in the direction of the door, but he seemed strangely reluctant. He tore his arm free from her, and instead grabbed hold of the table with both hands, still leaning against it.
"You.. you go," he said, hardly able to control his voice, "I'll... I'll just stay here for a while... yes, stay here... I'm doomed anyway."
"Oh no you don't," Dash growled, "You're gonna answer for this."
He grabbed Danny and started pulling, but Danny managed to hold on to the table.
"Come on, Danny," Sam said desperately, "We're not leaving without you. We're in this together, remember?"
Danny seemed to struggle with himself, closing his eyes, his face contorting in anguish and pain, his breathing quickening. She needed to help him, she decided, so she grabbed his arms, which felt strangely cold, brought her mouth close to his ear and started whispering to him, telling him he was her friend, their friend, that they needed him, who else was going to catch all the ghosts, the town would be overrun with them, they would help him, nothing bad would happen to him if he just let go of the table and followed them out of the room.
She talked about the good times they'd had, watching movies in her basement, hanging out at the mall, the park, the school even. She talked about his family, how nice and how weird they were, how jealous she was of him to have a family like that, how he couldn't let them down by staying in this house.
Slowly, she felt the tension ease from his arms as he let go of the table, stumbling forward because Dash was still pulling. She caught him before he could fall and shot Dash an angry look. The jock leaned forward, putting his face close to hers.
"He's a murderer," he hissed, "Don't you forget that, you goth geek. Your boyfriend is a murderer!"
He turned on his heels to walk to the door, just as Danny stumbled forward, leaning on Sam. He was moving willingly now, she noticed to her relief, seemingly eager to get out. The house didn't agree to it however.
A bright light suddenly shone through the front windows, lighting the entire room, growing brighter and brighter until they could no longer look at it. Dash and Tucker, who had been standing near the door, staggered backwards, their arms in front of their eyes to shield them from the blinding light. Sam shut her eyes and something started to pound in her head, as if the light penetrated her skull somehow. Beside her, Danny moaned.
Then the screaming started, Dash and Tucker turning around and running away from the windows, and she heard herself screaming with them. They all moved in slow motion somehow, running to the door to the kitchen, pushing each other to get to the door first in a blind, panicked run.
The windows exploded inwards, completely fragmenting the glass into tiny shards that were twinkling in the bright light, showering the room and them with it. Sam felt them cut her arms and neck, and she cried out in pain and shock. Then someone grabbed her and pushed her through the door into the kitchen and slammed it behind them.
They stood in the kitchen, panting, looking at each other fearfully, their faces white and their eyes wide. Sam was shaking all over, feeling the blood trickling down her arms, and she desperately clung on to Tucker, who had been the one to push her out of the dining room. Dash was moaning, having lost all control over himself. He was leaning forward, rocking back and forth a little, his hand on the counter, unaware of the slimy black goo that now stained his hands.
And Danny... Danny was standing in the middle of the kitchen, facing the dark windows, as if he was waiting for something. Sam realized that she didn't want to be around to see whatever it was he was waiting for, and then it hit her. How come she was able to see at all? She tried to focus, steering her panicking brain away from the little voice in her head that kept saying 'run, run, run, run', knowing that it was somehow significant that she came up with an explanation. It should be pitch dark in the kitchen, and yet, it wasn't. The windows seemed to be glowing slightly...
At that moment, Danny turned around and grinned, but there was no joy in it. Sam could see the terror in his eyes, and she started moving, urging Tucker along, in the direction of the back door, desperate to get out. Dash seemed to drag himself out of his stupor and started to follow.
It happened again. The bright light, seemingly coming from outside, although Sam couldn't see the backyard at all. It was just the windows going white, a blinding light that she couldn't look at. Prepared this time, none of them wasted any time wondering what to do, but instead they rushed to the door to the hallway. Tucker was the first to go through, and his cry in surprise should have stopped them, but they already had too much momentum.
They flew in after him, stumbling, and then the ground disappeared from under their feet and they tumbled down into the darkness.
