"Alone. Yes, that's the key word, the most awful word in the English tongue. Murder doesn't hold a candle to it and hell is only a poor synonym." —Salem's Lot
The basement hasn't changed much since the last time Erica was down here; the same creepy sculptures in glass cases, the cracked ceiling, the pieces of rubble from the panel that had nearly crushed Isaac. Maybe that would have been kinder, Erica thinks, toeing a piece of heavy stone out of her way.
"Do you think he's still here," she asks softly and Boyd doesn't need her to say his name to know who she's talking about. He's staring at the statues with tears gathering in his thick lashes.
"I hope to God he got away."
"Nobody gets away," Theo says. He's glowering at them from the bottom of the steps, holding his pistol tightly. There's none of the lazy grace from before, no he's wired tight and ready to snap. "The Nogitsune keeps them all like Lahey kept those creepy ass statues." One of the glass cases has shattered, the one with the conjoined twins. Both of them are sagging now, a tear down the middle releasing yellowed stuffing.
"It was Hale that kept the statues."
"Guy was sick in the head." Erica jolts with déjà vu, remembering last year when she'd said exactly that. She finds herself echoing what Isaac had said, almost unable to stop herself.
"That's the understatement of the fucking century." Theo curls his lip at her, not feeling the sudden pulse of energy. Overhead, the lights in their cages flicker on, bright and then dulling to normal. Shadows spread underfoot, one of them slipping away up the stairs.
"Where's Donovan," Hayden asks. She's got her arms wrapped around herself, her pistol tucked in the waistband of her jeans. "He was supposed to meet us down here, right?"
"That's what he said," Theo nods. He pulls out his phone to check the text, never once lowering his gun. Is it the same type Derek had provided in those little coffins? The same one Erica had emptied into his chest? "He isn't answering."
"Use the Find My Phone app." Theo nods and taps his screen a few times, letting out a satisfied sound. "Anything?"
"Yeah, this way." He jabs Chris roughly with the gun and Erica has to bite back a snarl. She's only known the big guy for a couple of hours, but she's going full Mama Bear. It's a side effect of her boys being trapped in here somewhere, she knows, probably an overreaction for someone she's just met, but he's growing on her. Chris is like a fungus.
"You ever heard of saying please," Chris asks.
"Move before I shoot you in the head." Theo pauses, then adds "please" with the phoniest smile Erica's ever seen in her life. That's saying a lot considering she'd seen Derek and Stiles play-acting at being a functional couple last year. At least they were entertaining. This guy's just an asshole.
"I'm gonna beat your ass real soon, Raeken." Chris' voice is dark and rich as wine as he steps into Theo's personal space, a good head or so taller. If Theo is shaken by the promise, he does a good job of not showing it. Instead, he presses the barrel of his gun under Chris' chin and smiles.
"Pretty sure I could break your hip, grandpa."
"Both of you start moving," Hayden snaps. "Don't make me put you over my knee and give you a good spanking." Theo's smile widens into an amused grin and it's the most genuine emotion he's shown all night. He glances at her, arching his brows.
"Promise, Hayden?" She rolls her eyes as she shoulders past the two men, taking the lead with Theo's phone in her hand. Erica and Boyd follow after her and, after another tense moment, Chris and Theo do the same. Chris catches up fairly quickly, brushing a warm hand down Boyd's back.
"We'll find a way out of this," he says firmly.
"Don't make promises you can't keep," Boyd says, almost sing-song. Chris isn't amused, his expression as solemn as a mourner's at a funeral. Did they have funerals for the other people that died here? Will there be a funeral for Erica and Boyd if they don't make it out? Flowers and sweet words and that James Whitcomb Riley poem Erica loves so much? God, she doesn't want to put her kids through that. She can't do that to them.
"I promise, Boyd." Chris peers around Boyd to look at Erica, the pair making a silent agreement. Even if they don't make it out, they'll make damn sure that Boyd does. If not for the twins, then out of pure spite. If they're stuck here then, by God, the Darkness will be stuck right here with them. Erica knows enough songs that will drive even the spookiest demon bonkers.
They fall quiet after that, all of them lost in their own heads. Erica's still picturing her funeral, making little alterations until the scene feels almost real. She'll have lilies on her casket and the music that plays when she's lowered into the ground will be Fergalicious because she doesn't want the twins to be sad. She's so absorbed in the planning that she doesn't notice her boyfriend has gone stock still until she runs into him. Chris keeps her upright and Theo grabs the back of her shirt more on instinct than out of kindness. He wipes his hand off on his jeans like he'd touched something filthy. It's fair, the old band tee hasn't been washed in almost two weeks.
"What's going on," Theo snaps.
"The secret room's open," Boyd says. He sounds choked up and Erica can't blame him. Last year, there had been a few crumbling bricks keeping the large room closed off from the rest of the basement, but now those bricks are scattered over the floor. Erica moves to get a better look, finding a scrap of cloth on the rough edge of a brick.
"Stiles was down here that night," she murmurs.
"How do you know?" She holds up the scrap, the faint yellow of a Batman logo visible in the bad lighting.
"He was wearing Batman pajama pants before he went missing, remember? He must have come down here before Derek electrocuted him." Or had it been someone else that orchestrated Stiles' death? Derek had seemed genuinely distraught when they'd found him, had practically frothed at the mouth when he turned on them with that fucking pistol.
"What do you think was kept in here?" Boyd steps close to her to peer inside, his warmth and the smell of his aftershave like a calming balm for Erica's frayed nerves. Inside the room is nothing special, just more stone floors and a bunch of discarded junk piled against the left wall.
"The Darkness." She can't explain it out loud, but there's a sense, an echo in the room. It's like when you get a whiff of perfume from an old dress and you remember the last night you'd warn it. Instead of warm candlelight and love songs, it's screaming and a hallway crumbling in on itself to form gnashing teeth.
"We kidnapped a bunch of dramatic bitches," Theo sighs. He nudges Erica in the ribs with his elbow and she gets the hint to keep moving.
"You nudge me one more time and I'm belting out some Kelly Clarkson." Theo snorts but says nothing else, keeping his hands to himself. They make their way through the halls and it doesn't start feeling familiar until they step inside the room with the saturation chamber in its middle. The lights are flashing inside it, a pale fist hitting the porthole window desperately. Boyd takes a step forward and pauses, shaking his head with a wry smile. "Who is it?"
"Derek," Boyd says, almost laughing. "Derek's stuck in the saturation chamber."
"Give you three guesses on who might'a done that." They're both thinking of their stubborn kids, the way the boys had once banded together to take on a prep-school bully two weeks ago. Coach had found the Talbot boy stuffed in Aiden's locker and had just shut the door again when the kid started to complain.
"How do you trap a ghost," Hayden asks, stepping closer to the chamber. She looks curious, which isn't a good thing to be inside the Hale Institute. Curiosity kills cats and there's no satisfaction to bring them back again.
"We need to keep moving," Theo says. He's unnerved by the sight of Derek beating against the window, his fist fracturing into smoke when it collides with the glass. Erica stands next to Hayden instead of going through the next door, her nose almost smooshed against the glass.
"How's it feel in there, Der," she asks with a sarcastic smile. He stops his struggling long enough to give her the finger. "Did my boys trap you? You know, they never teamed up on someone that didn't deserve it. If I find out you've hurt them, I'll kill you all over again. I'll make what the Darkness did look downright pleasant."
"We need to go." Erica takes one last look at Derek and then she's turning away from him with a twirl of blonde hair. She'll deal with him later if it comes down to it. She doesn't exactly have a soft spot for that dick. She leads the way into the new hall, taking the two steps up with none of her anxiety showing.
"We never saw what this hall led to," Boyd says, catching up with her. "You think it's another monster?"
"Or something worse." The lights are still off in this section, not even the ghosts bothering to fix them up. It's almost depressing, seeing the same thing as the last trip. And look, just there, a long piece of Boyd's red yarn that he'd meant to give to the twins. Is the rest of the ball still down here? Still coated with the blood from Boyd's palms? She hopes not.
"We should have brought some bread crumbs." Erica stops and sighs, not seeing any sign of a living person being down here. To be fair, she can barely see the hand in front of her face.
"Are you sure Donovan's down here?" She turns, catching a faint shadow behind Chris from the light of Theo's phone. She squints, trying to figure out if it's a normal shadow or something more sinister when it strikes. It moves lightning fast, wrapping that forgotten piece of yarn around Chris' throat and yanking him back. "Chris!"
"Oh, fuck!" The shadow solidifies, vapor rolling off its shoulders until it's fully visible from the phone's weak light. It's Stiles standing there, tall enough to have easy access to Chris' throat. His bare arms bulge under the effort of keeping control, but Stiles has always been surprisingly strong.
"Shoot him," Hayden yells at Theo.
"He's already dead!" Erica doesn't stop to listen to the bickering, just stomps forward and decks Stiles in the face. His head snaps backwards and her knuckles throb, but he doesn't loosen his grip. He grins at her, crescents of blood crusted under his fingernails.
"Know who else is dead," he asks. His voice is husky with exertion, but it's just as smooth as Erica remembers. He and Derek had traded barbs all night until Stiles was too dead to do it. "Your boy Donovan." He fixes his gaze on Theo over Erica's shoulder, all proud arrogance. "I drowned him."
"But—" Theo cuts himself off, looking down at his glowing screen.
"His phone fell out before I pushed him in a vat of blood. It was way too easy to get you idiots to come into the basement." The whole time Stiles has been talking, another shadow has drawn closer. It still gives off waves of cold, but the vibe isn't malicious. Well, less malicious than the one Stiles gives off. Chris jerks violently in Stiles' hold, driving his elbow back into his midsection. Stiles grunts and bends a little, but he keeps on strangling like his entire afterlife depends on it. The approaching shadow moves quicker and then Kate is there in her ruined dress, dragging sharp nails down Stiles' cheek. "Son of a bitch!" Stiles lets go to clutch at his face, blood pouring between his fingers and evaporating before it hits the stone. "You fucking cu—" Erica punches him in the mouth, more to keep him from saying that word than anything else.
"Watch your mouth," she snaps. He glowers up at her, opening his mouth to say something worse. Kate moves before he can, grabbing his hair and forcing his head against her knee. There's a disgusting crunch and another spurt of dark blood as Stiles falls back against the wall he'd come out of.
"Run," Chris snaps, voice hoarse. There's a harsh red line around his throat and bits of yarn clinging to his shirt, but he looks sturdy. "Get out of here! We'll take care of this asshole." He turns and delivers a punch to Stiles' middle, taking out a year's worth of rage on the mole-dotted skin.
"Don't have to tell me twice," Boyd mutters. He takes Erica's hand and they make it a full three feet before there's a gun pressed between Erica's brows. She has to cross her eyes to look at it, following it to a tan hand and further past that to Theo's angry scowl.
"I'm done with this cat and mouse bullshit," he snarls at them. "Keep moving."
"Donovan isn't—"
"Keep moving." Theo presses the barrel tighter against Erica's forehead until she's sure she'll have a scar there. She squeezes her eyes closed, throat tightening around a scream she's too scared to let out. Boyd tugs her away from the gun, guiding her behind him.
"Shoot me and be done with it, Raeken. Just let Erica go." Theo's grin is like something out of a horror movie, more than just rage or greed. It's full-on hatred, he's going to kill them all because he wants to. It's past the sacrifice for the Darkness, this is personal.
"I'll kill her slowly if you don't move your fucking ass, Boyd." So Boyd turns and keeps walking down the hall, keeping Erica slightly in front of him and out of Theo's reach. Their footsteps echo loudly down here, muffling the fight going on behind them. Erica hopes that Chris makes it out of the fight alive, that he makes Stiles hurt.
The hall dead ends at an enormous door, a metal thing covered in rust and taking up the entire wall. Erica shies away from it, letting Boyd curl and arm around her to keep her safe. If there was ever a place for the Darkness to thrive, it has to be behind that door.
"Open it," Theo orders. Boyd tenses for a moment, then lets go of Erica and forces the monstrous thing open. Its squeal is more like a scream, the cavernous room beyond stretching out for an impossibly long time. It has to take up half of the underground real estate, rows of cremators running along both of the side walls with a large set of shelves built into the far one.
"Holy shit," Hayden breathes. "Why did they need so many of them?"
"They had a lot of bodies to hide," Erica says. "How much do you wanna bet that the fire started here?"
"No bet." Hayden angles the phone's flashlight at one of the cremators, the door hanging open and scorched black. Soot clings to the wall above it, so thick Erica could have written her name in it. "Theo, I really don't like this room. Can't we shoot these two upstairs?"
"Everything's sealed up," Theo says, deadpan. "We shoot them, the Nogitsune opens the doors."
"Do you really think you're getting out of here alive," Boyd asks. He turns sharply, far faster than a man of his size should be able to. Boyd's always been graceful, certainly the more graceful one out of the two of them. "The Darkness is using you, Theo. Just like it used Donovan's phone to lure us down here."
"That was Stiles—"
"On whose orders? Why would Stiles give a damn about us being here? The Darkness wants out and they're using you to do it." Boyd shakes his head, boots scuffing against the concrete. "We're all screwed."
"Don't say that," Erica murmurs, even if she feels the same way. "We'll get out just like we did last year." Boyd's laugh is strangled, pitiful. Just hearing it makes her want to bawl like a baby because there's no hope left if her boyfriend could make a sound like that.
"Why don't you just kneel and I'll make this quick," Theo suggests. "No more dramatic gestures." Erica glares over at him, eyes shining with tears. She wants to tear him apart, make him beg for his life. But she can't do that when he's still got a gun.
"Go fuck yourself, Theo."
"Is that really what you want your last words to be, Erica? I was hoping for something a little more poetic." She wraps her arms around Boyd's waist, needing to make sure he's solid. It can't really end like this, right? Not when they'd finally gotten their shit together. She grips the back of Boyd's shirt like a lifeline, blinking the tears away for one last glare.
"You really want something poetic?" There are shadows edging up behind Theo and Hayden, shadows that Erica would know anywhere. Two of them, to be precise. Twins. She smiles sharply, gaze cutting between the matching shadows and then back to Theo. "First you should know that abducting us was a really stupid idea."
"And why is that?"
"Because our kids are even meaner than we could ever think about being."
There's a whistle of air parting and then Hayden is stumbling into Theo with a cry. Theo lets her topple, staring down at her in shock before turning. He's still got his gun arm extended which gives Aiden a great target. He brings the metal pipe down against Theo's wrist with enough force to shatter bone. Theo screams as he falls, the pistol skittering out of reach. Ethan kicks it even farther, the metal winking once before it's swallowed by the shadows.
"Don't fuck with our parents," Aiden growls. He swings again, the pipe connecting with Theo's head. It gives him and Hayden matching wounds, bloody temples. Aiden looks up at Boyd and Erica, almost shy as the anger drains from him. "Sorry for sneaking up here."
"Don't be sorry," Boyd says, hoarse and a little proud. "Just don't do this shit again, alright? Let us know if you wanna do something stupid."
"Deal," the twins say together. Boyd and Erica pull the kids into a hug, Erica breathing in the familiar smell of Ethan's cologne. He puts it on too thick, but she's never been so happy to have allergies.
"Let's get the fuck out of here."
"We can't yet," Ethan says, pulling back. "We have to help Kira first." Erica's brows draw together and then a girl is stepping into the room. She's a pale thing with dark hair and old burn scars, flickering slightly. She's a ghost. "Hale killed her and the Nogitsune was possessing her before she was killed and—"
"How can we help her," Boyd asks, cutting off the info dump before it can begin.
"We gotta find her ashes and get them outta here." Boyd nods once, looking around like there's gonna be a pristine urn just waiting for them under a spotlight. Knowing their luck, Kira's ashes are still inside one of the machines. Can you vacuum up a ghost's ashes or would they think that's disrespectful? Maybe there's a Swiffer hidden around here...
"I know where they are," Kira says, soft. She's biting her lip as she steps closer to the others, hands working in the material of her hospital gown. She looks so damn miserable that Erica wants to hug her. She doesn't, though. Who knows if the poor kid is solid enough for that. "But first we should deal with him." She points at Theo, the way he's trying to move and can't quite seem to manage. It's like a turtle on its back, only you hate the turtle.
"I know a place," Erica says, nodding towards the scorched cremator. "Help me out, boys." She and Ethan each take an arm while Boyd and Aiden take a leg, hauling Theo up and into the furnace before shutting the door. They don't lock it, but it's heavy enough that Theo will have a fun time trying to get the thing open.
"My ashes are back here. I saw Marceline put them up." Kira leads the way to the far wall with its line of shelves, moving along the line of old boxes. A few have grown soggy, others have collapsed, but one remains pristine. A little cardboard square the size of a football, a patient number written neatly across the front. "That's me."
"You're a little shorter than I remember," Aiden says, smirking over at her. Kira grins at him, slapping lightly at his arm. He heaves a dramatic sigh and plucks the box off the shelf, tucking it under his arm as he turns to face the others. "Let's get the hell out of here before the Darkness shows their ugly head."
The Nogitsune watches from the shadows as the group leaves the crematorium, familiar rage filling their veins and making silver eyes flash. They move to the cremator, Theo's body neatly tucked inside. He's half-dead and useless, and the Nogitsune needs to take out their rage on someone. They lock the door and press the button, watching flames rise slowly beneath the metal grate inside.
Theo's screams harmonize beautifully with all the others.