Sorry it took me so long to write this. I wanted to add in character backstory, but it was just... boring. So I didn't. And my other ideas just didn't inspire me so I had to try something new.

13thReflection - thank you for the review! Hope this continues to be enjoyable :D

P.S. Aldi's is a minimarket chain in the south/midwestern United States.

Spookiness ahead!

Check Hotel Reviews

"For the last time, it was an alligator. Say it with me: al-li-ga-tor."

Great. That was just great. Here he was, talking to himself in the middle of the minimart.

At least, Allen consoled himself, the store was pretty empty, so no one was around to gawk as he enunciated a word even six-year-olds knew to the juice boxes.

Whatever.

Allen, replacement snacks in hand, marched away from the drinks section and towards the front check-out stands. Kanda had only agreed to stop at the minimart because he'd finally, finally, realized the importance of having food on a trip. For entirely different reasons than Allen, but the Brit wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Even if said gift-horse mixed up crocodiles and alligators.

Allen could (maybe) forgive the man if Kanda had grown up in Japan. But he hadn't. Well, until he was nine, then he'd moved to America with Tiedoll, but… whatever. Almost fifteen years was more than enough time to know the difference between an alligator and a crocodile. Hell, if Allen had to sit through Discovery channel episodes on reptiles indigenous to North America, then so did Kanda, dammit.

As Allen retied his low pony-tail, waiting for the cashier to check his goods, he could admit that he was being a little bit unreasonable. But… Kanda was just so damned smug.

The Japanese driver was proud of himself for eliminating the most vicious natural predator of the southern United States from the roadway. In under five minutes.

Kanda didn't show his self-satisfaction like normal people. But Allen could tell. Mostly because he hadn't objected when Allen left him alone with Timcanpy while he went in for a re-fill on chips (and, yes, beef sticks) only a few hours after the famed interruption.

It had been their second reptile encounter since leaving New York, which was more than Allen had ever met outside of a pet store. At least, so far, they were all still Ok. Which was good.

The young Brit, after thanking the cashier (who hadn't even stared at his facial scar), took his two bags back out into the humid South Carolina air.

The air wasn't as warm as it had been when they'd stopped at a rest area only an hour ago. Now, soft dove-colored clouds filled the sky. They'd blown in so fast that the sky and bright sun were completely obscured. A damp, cool wind pulled at the loose white strands around Allen's face, brushing against his exposed forearms and cotton clothes.

Despite the setbacks, they'd actually been making fairly good time (although thanks to Kanda's wake-up call Allen was already on his sixth cup of coffee, but whatever – not like caffeine was bad for you or anything). They had to be in the Florida Keys by tomorrow evening for Lavi's bachelor party and they only had eight or so hours left. It would be another late night, or maybe an early morning (or both if Kanda had his way), but they'd definitely make it in time.

Allen said as much to Kanda when he got back in the shotgun seat, following up with his concerns about the impending rain.

"It's just water."

"No, it's rain. You know, the kind that comes down in sheets? Making it hard to see and soaking you to the bone?"

"I know what rain is, Moyashi," Kanda snapped, dark eyes shooting him a disgusted glare. "Which is why I know it's harmless."

"Unless you're speeding down the highway at almost eighty miles an hour. Actually more like 100 with the way you drive."

"You don't like the way I drive? Walk."

"Then again, we're making good time. Who am I to judge?"

Kanda's grunt said he believed that back-track just as much as he believed Tim hadn't been slobbering all over his leather.

They'd just pulled back onto the interstate. The cloud cover had forced some of the cars to turn their headlights on, and theirs was no exception. Kanda seemed to have fallen back into the trance he got when driving – focus only on the road, ignoring all distractions (ie Allen). But the Brit was having too much fun to let himself be ignored.

"And would you look at Aldi's snacks," Allen grinned, rifling through the bag of treats he'd pilfered from the mini mart.

Instead of pointing out that they'd only finished lunch two hours ago, Kanda snapped, "No eating in my car."

"You want to eat but you want to make time. Can't have it both ways, Bakanda. Cheese stick?"

"How can you eat that crap?"

"With Aldi's choices, is it even possible to go wrong?" Oh, was he good or what?

Kanda didn't seem to think so, scowling at the proffered dairy product like Allen was waving a cockroach at his face. "One more pun and those things are going in the trash."

The Brit, chucking, took the cheese stick for himself. Only… ugh. Something about the smell was just…

Figuring the cheese was bad, Allen went for another bag of food. This time some salted potato chips. However, once he got the bag open, something about the seasonings just made him lose his appetite.

It took another try at Chips Ahoy before he figured out it wasn't the food. It was him.

"What, finally full?" Kanda scoffed.

"…my stomach feels weird. You feeling alright?" Because if Kanda was also feeling weird, then it wasn't his eating habits that were the problem.

"Che. Yes."

Despite this reassurance, Allen couldn't help noticing the Japanese man looked a little pale, his eyes a little too dilated. His hands were gripping the steering wheel too tight, and that permanent scowl almost looked a little pained. And… was that sweat on his forehead?

"You sure? Because you don't look too good."

"I'm- ugh."

Kanda made a disgusted grimace as cut in front of a car in the right lane, who honked his horn. Unperturbed, Kanda continued sliding out of traffic and into the shoulder, kicking up dust in their review. Slamming on the brakes, Kanda took the car from fifty to zero in ten feet, jumping out of the car without even bothering to check for cross-traffic.

A beat later, the sounds of puking could be heard from the ferns off to the right.

…And there went Allen thinking they would actually be making good time that day.

XXXXX

Twenty minutes later, the two adults and golden retriever were checked into an inn somewhere between Walterboro, South Carolina and Savanna, Georgia. Allen couldn't tell if they'd passed Coosawhatchie yet, mostly because the world was spinning too much for him to read the map.

Before the world got too out of focus, he'd had managed to locate a little bed and breakfast. Something that were apparently as common in the South as thrift stores. Which was great because Kanda was too sick to do much more than breathe (even if he wouldn't admit it). Allen wasn't feeling far behind him, much less feeling well enough to continue driving the I-95 in the pouring rain.

And pouring it was. By the time he and Allen had both grudgingly agreed to rest until the sickness passed, Kanda having thrown up twice on the roadside and Allen on the way to divesting his lunch all over the soft leather, the water was falling so hard the windshield wipers were barely keeping up and the dirt road was already starting to turn to mud.

The inn Allen managed to find was less than ten minutes off the interstate. Unfortunately it had turned into a dirt road halfway, the cypress trees enveloping their car like so much green sludge. When the trees finally vanished, the inn looked so much like a historic plantation Allen was wondering if he'd taken a wrong turn – the brick siding half obscured by vines and mold, half-dead flowers sitting beneath the pitch-black windows. It was structured like a large rectangle with a big porch and large windows covered in curtains.

That was, until he saw the "Dankern Bed and Breakfast" sign hanging from the porch. There weren't any other cars outside, so he figured their chances of getting a room were great. Which was a relief, because the food poisoning was making him claustrophobic for some reason and being in Kanda's tiny car was not helping.

Kanda's skin had gone from sun-tanned to moldy-bread blue, leaning against the window with a barely-concealed wince. He looked on the verge of throwing up again, meaning Allen would be the one checking them in.

Which would have been fine, except the rain was already starting to look like it was coming in from the side and the car felt like it was half-submerged in mud. Which may have been true or just a figment of his sickness-addled brain.

Bed. Find a bed, then he could take a nap. Things were always fixed with a good nap.

After shrugging on a coat, Allen stepped out into the rain.

He felt practically drenched by the time he made it to the door, despite the distance only being fifteen feet or so. Under the safety of the porch, the Brit tried the doorbell, then a knock, resisting the urge to lean against the door-frame so he wouldn't fall over. It was starting to look like no one was going to answer and he'd have to just settle for a nap in the car when the door swung open.

The doorway was large enough to fit a piano. The interior was just as impressive.

Dark-stained molding, mirrors and oil paintings on the wall. Soft maroon rugs on the floor and burnished wood beneath. Despite the plantation-looking exterior, the design inside was more Historic Victorian or whatever was older than the nineteenth century. At least the place had been wired for modern electric, which was a plus, eve as the lace doilies and wrought-iron lamps kept the antique feel.

The odd part was that there was no one on the other side of the door. Which was weird because it looked too solid to just swing open on its own.

"Hello?" Allen called, stepping hesitantly into the foyer, the wood flooring creaking with each step. "Is anyone here?"

"Hello."

Allen nearly jumped. Nearly. Because he didn't scare that easily. No matter what Kanda and Lavi said.

The sudden speaker was a young woman, probably only a few years older than him, with shoulder-length mahogany hair held back by a ruby hairband. Her smile was reserved even as her tone was welcoming, grey eyes meeting his.

Allen was so woozy he could barely get out the words without vomiting. "Uh, sorry for just dropping in. I need a room for my friend and me. And, um, do you take dogs?"

"Of course." her smile widened, ash eyes looking over-bright as she pulled an album-sized book out of a narrow bookcase in the hallway, dropping it onto the hall table with a thunk.

The lights, which seemed over bright to his sick-addled mind, barely noticed the young woman retrieve a pen from her jeans and open the book to the appropriate page. "I'm Sophia, by the way. And you are?"

"Uh, Allen. Allen Walker. Do you run this place?" Allen's innate manners couldn't stop him from asking if he'd tried.

"Oh, yes. Just me and my father."

Allen took the proffered pen, signing his and Kanda's name in the register. He couldn't help noting many of the other signatures looked too faded to be recent. The paper was thicker than he'd seen before, the pages a little yellowed at the edges.

Allen thought he saw a date stamped on the front of the book – something maybe starting with the 1800s – but Sophia tucked it back into the shelf before he could be sure. "Your room is on the second floor. If you'll follow me?"

"Let me get my friend first."

"Of course."

She waited until Allen went out to retrieve Kanda. It hadn't stopped raining, and if anything, the water was coming down even harder. This time it really was slanted thanks to the wind, and it took the Brit a few minutes of searching before he found Kanda's jacket in the back. Unfortunately he hadn't packed any jacket for Timcanpy, but that didn't end up being a problem, since (for once) the golden retriever didn't dally in the mud, running over to the porch to wait.

Kanda ignored Allen's proffered shoulder, apparently preferring to wobble over to the inn like a drunkard. Whatever – as long as Allen didn't have to pick him out of the mud, he didn't really care.

Allen pocketed the car keys and left everything but their phones in car. By the time he joined the duo on the porch, Kanda was already following Sophia up the stairs.

"Come on, Tim."

The dog, despite his earlier enthusiasm to get inside, was sitting outside the door. Refusing to come in.

What, was he sick too?

"Nice dog."

Either thanks to the rain or Allen's sickness, he hadn't heard the middle-aged man join him on the porch, firewood beneath his arms. The stranger had long silver hair with a retreating hairline, mustache so thick is practically obscured his lips.

"Thanks. He's usually pretty brave, so I'm not…"

Timcanpy was growling. At the old man.

"Tim, stop," Allen sighed, grabbing the dog's collar to keep him from doing… whatever he wanted to do. Because, really, his headache was too damned big to deal with anything at the moment, and he didn't want to risk pissing off anyone at the inn.

Still, it was odd. Timcanpy hardly ever had a problem with strangers.

Reining in his discomfort, Allen patted the dog on the head. "You Ok, bud?"

The dog's growl tapered off into a whine, chocolate eyes flicking up at his master before finally going quiet. He still seemed uncomfortable, Tim's eyes going back to the old man despite his master's reassurances.

"Are you her father?" Allen asked the old man, thinking back on what Sophie had said about running the place.

Instead of answering, the man mumbled so low Allen almost missed it, "It's easy to get trapped in here during the rain. You and your friend best be off at daylight before it gets worse."

Before Allen could ask what he meant – because to him the road had seemed fine coming in, if a bet muddy – the old man stepped back into the rain and walked off, headed somewhere behind the house, moving away with a small limp in his step.

It wasn't until Allen had dragged Timcanpy inside and up the stairs that he wondered how the old man knew he was traveling with someone else.

XXXXX

Kanda woke up with a splitting headache.

It took him a moment of sitting in the pitch-black darkness to remember where he was and how he'd gotten there.

Throwing up on the highway, Allen driving them down a muddy road, then the plantation-style bed-and-breakfast sitting in the middle of the woods. Some woman had shown him to a room, and after throwing up in the bathroom just after finding it, Kanda collapsed onto a quilted double bed. Which was apparently where he still was. Someone had put a blanket over him, which was good, because the inn was drafty and it was damned cold.

According to the clock on the nightstand, it was just past midnight. Which… Jesus, had he been that tired? He'd been chugging coffee all day, so the exhaustion was probably thanks to whatever food poisoning Allen had given him.

Another evening of driving down the toilet. Which wouldn't have been wasted in the first place if they'd just skipped lunch like he'd wanted.

Allen's form was just visible on the neighboring bed, completely conked out. So lost in dream land that his mouth was half open, a bit of drool trailing down his cheek. Timcanpy, who probably wasn't allowed on the furniture but had got on the bed anyway, was curled atop Allen's feet, not-so-soft snores echoing in the wallpapered room like the groans of an old furnace.

The storm was still blowing out the curtained window, but the gale-force winds and pounding rain had tapered off to a steady patter of rain. Thunder sounded in the distance several miles away, indicating the heavy downpour must have continued further east.

With going back to sleep looking (and sounding) less and less likely, Kanda got up in search of water. Only, when he tried the bedside lamp, it didn't turn on.

It took a few more tries with various bulbs around the room before he realized the electricity was out.

Tch. Just great. If it wasn't one thing, it was something else.

Kanda ended up using his phone's screen (because he didn't have one of those fancy flashlight apps) to find his way over to the door.

The hallway outside was dark, the only light coming from the windows via the occasional lighting bolt. The wood floor seemed to creak with every step as Kanda made his way towards the stairs, taking them two at a time to the foyer. In the dark, because phone screens didn't do shit to see with in the middle of the night.

Finding the kitchen proved to be a bit harder than he'd thought, mostly because of the many, many rooms on the first floor (despite the small size, plantation houses were apparently teeming with spaces). He ended up finding it in the back corner of the house, tucked behind a second dining room and a servant's hallway.

Unlike the rest of the house, the kitchen was updated, with a running tap and an electric fridge. Which, despite being out, still had cold water. God that was refreshing, after all that throwing-up.

Bang!

Kanda dropped the glass of water, reaching for Mugen on instinct.

Only, Mugen wasn't there. Allen had left it in the car. Leaving Kanda oddly vulnerable just as a shrill shriek echoed through the lower level.

He left the shattered glass behind, running in the direction of the noise.

Kanda followed the shrieking noise through the library, his quick reflexes just saving him from tripping over a coffee table. It continued into the the sitting room beyond the library, where he found the source.

A window was open to the outside and the shutter had come undone in the storm. It was banging against the outside wall with each gust of wind, the shrill noise coming from the howling of the storm. The shriek... it had sounded so human.

Jesus, that was why he hated old houses.

Kanda's dry clothes were soaked by the time he'd searched for the latch and successfully muscled the window closed. The rug beneath his feet was even more sodden, meaning the window had probably been open for a while.

Fuck. He'd have to pick up the glass from his drink on top of cleaning up the wet mess. Leave it to the Moyashi to pick the oldest, dumbest inn in the middle of nowhere.

Another flash of lighting illuminated the yard just outside.

There was someone out there.

Darkness fell. The figure vanished.

What the hell was someone doing outside in that weather after midnight? Whoever it was, they'd looked old, broad-shouldered and holding something heavy in their arms.

Another bolt fell over the forest less than two seconds later, illuminating the thick bulbous sheets of clouds overhead, trees looking like dark shadows beyond the clearing.

The yard was empty.

What the hell?

There had been someone out there. He was sure of it. Where had they gone in that time? There was nothing out there but dead leaves and a muddy road. And, no, he wasn't seeing things, because Kanda did not see things that weren't there.

But… he could concede that his mind might still be addled from the food poisoning. Maybe there'd been no one there. Maybe.

Kanda gave the sitting room one last scowl before stomping back up to the second floor. He needed some rest, apparently. But he still had to clean up that damned mess in the kitchen. Although skipping that and leaving it until morning was sounding like a fabulous idea. And by then the electricity would probably be back on.

He was so focused on getting back to the room that Kanda almost missed the creaking floor board.

Kanda froze on the second-floor landing, trying to listen for the errant noise. Everything was quiet - with the electricity out, the only sounds came from the pattering of rain outside and the occasional bolt of thunder.

Another creaking floor board. It sounded like... someone walking around.

A loud creak like a door hinge, then a slammed door.

Kanda shone his phone light down to the end of the second-floor hallway, in the direction of the slammed door. Towards the source of the heavy noise.

The hall was empty. Everything was dark.

He hated. Hated. Hated old houses.

Inside their room, Allen was awake, sitting propped against the headboard with his phone on. The scar over his left eye was cast in sharp relief, making him look almost demonic in the luminescent light. The grin he gave Kanda didn't help the image.

"Oh, hey. Where'd you go?"

"Water."

"Did you forget it between here and the kitchen?" Allen asked, pale eyes flicking between his empty hands.

"Che. It fell." Well, he'd dropped it, but same difference. "Where's the dust pan?"

"No idea." Allen turned back to his phone, and before Kanda could snap something about getting his ass in gear to help find it, said, "I've been reading up on this inn. Did you know it's actually got some history?"

"It's old. Of course it does."

"No, not that," the Brit continued, either missing Kanda's tone or ignoring it. "It's got, like, creepy history." Finally meeting Kanda's eyes, he emphasized, "Three people were killed here."

Fine. He'd bite. "How."

Scrolling down his phone, Allen summarized, "It started in 1851 with the first residents of the house."

"'It'?"

"The murders. I'll get to the others in a minute. Anyway, two sisters and their dad lived here. I guess one of the sisters got sick, and while the other was away at work, the townsfolk were so scared of her sickness that they locked her inside of her room. By the time the other sister got back… her twin had died from carbon monoxide poisoning. She blamed her dad and stabbed him to death, then herself."

Allen's pale face had gone from interested to horrified by the time he'd finished. His reaction was almost funny, and just… very Allen. Only he would get that disturbed about a few murders from over a hundred years ago.

"Cool. Where's the dust pan? And towels."

"That's not all," Allen continued as if Kanda hadn't spoken, still reading from his phone. "Several other owners of the home have died since then. By stabbings, too. Five more people – one a brother-father murder-suicide in the fifties, then a sister-sister joint suicide in the nineties."

"So?"

Allen rolled his eyes, like Kanda was being the biggest idiot on the planet. Which sent the Japanese man from irritated to pissed off. "So, don't you think that's a bit of a coincidence? What if there's some kind of ghost?" Looking back at his article, he said, "The townspeople say they can still see the ghost of the murderous twin in the woods at night. They say she haunts this house, searching for revenge against the townsfolk."

Oh for the love of… "Ghosts. That's stupid."

"Then how do you explain all the murders?"

"If they're twins how do they know whose ghost its whose?" Kanda countered, giving in to the idiocy.

Allen opened his mouth to answer but closed it with a wince. "Ok, it does say they were identical."

"Moyashi. Dust pan."

Closing the internet app and opening one of those flashlight ones on his phone, Allen dislodged Tim from his feet to get off the bed. "Did you check the kitchen?"

Ugh, damn. "No."

"Let's go ask Sophia anyway. I feel weird poking around her house without her around." Then, instead of following Kanda and Timcanpy out the door, Allen stopped with a frown.

"What."

"Uh, nothing. Just… the second twin from the story was also named Sophia. Weird, huh?" He asked with a quick smile, stepping first out into the hallway.

"She said she and her dad would be down this hall," Allen continued as the two padded down the wood hallway, Timcanpy's claws tapping behind them, the dog unbothered by the storm raging outside.

There were five doors lining the hallway, one on the end and two on each side, spaced maybe twenty feet apart. That made the rooms fairly large, and after opening the door, Kanda found that to be an understatement.

Each one could probably hold a whole set of living room furniture. If they'd been occupied.

It didn't take him and Allen long to verify that they were empty. In fact, it looked like no one had been inside the rooms for years - the air smelled of dust, cobwebs hung in the rafters, and a carpet of undisturbed dust covered everything. White sheets covered the furniture, draped over what looked like a queen bed and a few sitting chairs. The fireplaces were dark, the windows curtained.

"That's weird," Allen muttered, voice right at Kanda's shoulder. "Doesn't look like anyone's been in here for years."

At least. "How'd you find this Inn?" Kanda asked, still in that lowered volume.

"Um, I saw a sign on the roadside."

Of course he had.

Deciding then wasn't the best time to lecture the Moyashi on roadside safety, the duo continued to check all four rooms in the hallway.

They were all the same – untouched and unused, covered in dust.

That didn't make any damned sense. Kanda had seen the first floor - there weren't any bedrooms, which meant any guests had to stay on the second floor.

So if that was the case, why weren't the rooms lived-in?

Kanda couldn't help his growing apprehension as they approached the room at the end of the hallway. Timcanpy, oblivious to their growing unease, continued to patter behind the two adults like a cow led to the slaughter houses. Which was… a pretty grim expression, but Kanda couldn't stop his thoughts going in that direction if he'd tried. Something about the place… he was on edge. And he couldn't figure out why. Which only irritated him more.

Allen took the lead on opening the last door, oak swinging wide with a creaking noise that seemed oddly loud in the long hallway.

The room looked the same as the others with dust on every surface. Only this time, there wasn't any cloth over the furniture – the oak dresser was uncovered, as was the small sitting are around the fireplace, chairs and tables open to the dusty air. The bed, too, was made up with linens and a side lamp.

Only this bed had someone sleeping in it.

"Hey, Sophia," Allen whispered into the room, hesitant to step into the woman's room.

When the figure on the bed didn't move, he called again. No answer.

Kanda, fed-up with standing in the drafty hallway, barged past in with a curse. Because really. This place was pissing him off, and Kanda still had glass to clean up and sleep to get back to. He was not in the mood to play nice.

"Kanda," Allen whisper-shouted, following behind, Tim close at his heels.

The figure on the queen bed was sleeping on their side, facing away from them. Kanda grabbed her shoulder to jar her awake.

Only to jump back when the figure turned over.

It was a dead body. A dead, mummified body.

"Fucking hell!"

"Oh God! That's a…!"

The dead woman – even despite the desiccation, he could see that much – had been there for a long time. Decades, probably. The flesh had long-since been eaten away by insects and nature, remnants of skin sucked against her bones like fat on fried chicken, her jaw open in some kind of scream.

"Fuck," He repeated, jumping back with a start.

The mummified body cracked as it rolled over, empty eye sockets following Kanda as it fell to the side. The body would have tumbled off the bed if the bones hadn't been so stiff, propping up the sheets like a tent.

"Tim, don't look!" Allen cried, trying to cover the golden retriever's eyes. Which, in Kanda's opinion, was not only ridiculous but too late, since the dog had probably seen it before they had.

Only, instead of looking at the body, Tim was facing the door. Lips peeled back in a low growl.

Kanda had never heard a growl like that before. It was so low it made the hairs on his neck stand on end.

As they watched, Timcanpy let out a single threatening bark just as deep as his growl. Head lowered, tail down as he stared down something. What that something was, neither adult knew - the doorway was empty. It looked like the three of them were alone.

A flash of lightening cracked down just outside the house. Someone shrieked (And, no, it hadn't been him), both adults looking towards the window.

The body was gone.

The bed was empty. The sheets were made up on the mattress like it had never been there.

"What the…" Allen muttered, sounding both shocked and unnerved.

Another low bark drew their attention back to the door. Just in time to see Timcanpy charge from the room.

"Wait Tim!" Allen shouted, apparently already having decided that the dog had the right idea.

He lunged for the door only to run into Kanda on the way there. The two wasted a few seconds getting untangled before falling after the dog, neither taking the time to yell at each other for being in the way.

Kanda let his anxiety give way to adrenaline as he bolted after Allen. And if he was running a little faster than necessary, it was just because the dog was so fast. Not because of any creaking noises in the dusty room behind them, or a sudden howling noise that filled the house, sounding a hell of a lot like the shriek he'd heard earlier.

He and Allen took the steps two at a time, the duo practically flying down the stairs like hell itself were on their tail.

A loud bang resounded as the front door flew open, lightening and rain spilling into the foyer.

Kanda didn't even question it. Neither did his traveling companions, Timcanpy streaking out of the house like a golden football. His pale master was right behind him, Kanda right at Allen's heels as they cleared the open doorway.

Even outside of the house, none of them relaxed. And probably wouldn't, until the creepy inn in the crack-ass middle of nowhere was nothing but mud in their review mirror.

Allen already had the car keys out, practically jerking the passenger door off its hinges as he threw it open. Tim hopped inside, going from the shotgun seat to the back, Allen right on his tail.

Kanda was too busy taking the keys from Allen to remark on the muddy pawprints left on his leather chairs or the sopping clothes on his leather seats.

All he could think was: Go.

They were going. As soon as fucking possible.

Allen, for once, didn't complain about the break-neck speed as Kanda took off down the road, mud kicking up behind them as he peeled away. Trees whizzed by like so many black blurs, rain pounding against their car like mini balls of hail.

As soon as they hit asphalt, the rain stopped, the wind was gone, and the lightening quit. So sudden it was almost hard to believe it had ever been there in the first place.

Kanda didn't feel himself relax until all three of them were back on the interstate and headed south.

"What the fuck was that?" Allen muttered, no longer clutching the door handle like the car would leave him behind if he didn't.

"No idea," Kanda growled, trying not to go more than twenty over the speed limit as he peeled down the highway. "But we are never mentioning it again."

"Yeah. Yeah. Never happened. Got it, Tim?"

The dog, returned to his normal behavior, set his nose on the arm rest between the adults' chairs. Not that those innocent brown eyes would fool Kanda – he'd seen the dangerous side to Timcanpy, and he would never underestimate it again.

Speaking of… "That is the last time you ever pick our hotel." Kanda put a little extra threat in his voice because… well, he was damned serious. Whatever the fuck had not-happened, it was definitely not happening again.

Kanda glanced at his profile; the Brit's skin was almost blue in the dashboard lighting, wet strands of ivory hair grazing his neck.

Allen looked about to protest, but as their eyes met, he seemed to change his mind. "Sure. Works for me."

Kanda turned his eyes back to the road. Allen started messing around with something at his feet. The white-haired adult finally popped back up with a bag of chips in his hand and another grin on his face. "At least we've still got Aldi's snacks."

Allen didn't bother ducking the smack upside the head.

Key Largo: 9 hours (-ish?)

Hope you guys liked this. I had fun scaring the shit out of Allen and Kanda. At least, I think it was scary, but it's 1am writing this so that's probably why XD. I wanted to do a ghost thing so I took it off The Village Where the Witch Dwells story in canonverse.

Also took some inspiration from X-Files How the Ghosts Stole Christmas, which I recommend to anyone (even those who haven't seen the series) wanting a ghost story that doesn't involve peeing your pants in fear. Also, I finally found the third inspiration for this: D . dgray fanfic Never Leave Me by XxdarkotterxX. Pretty good if you guys want to check it out!