Chapter 6: Seeing Dead People

Day Two at the Haunted House

"Rey! Rey, wake up, man!"

Batista was shaking Rey's shoulder.

Rey smacked his arm away and mumbled slurred obscenities at him.

"Dave, just let me sleep a little longer…" he groaned and turned away.

Batista frowned and snatched up Rey's blanket.

Rey moaned and mashed his pillow over his face, covering his eyes.

"Go away, Dave…"

"Rey, you have to get up! Chris Jericho is gone!"

"Wha…?" Rey asked sleepily and pulled the pillow off his face. "What are you talking about?"

"He's gone, Rey, we can't find him!"

"Ugh…" Rey said, smearing his palm over his face and collapsing back against his pillow. "Do you think I sent him to Tijuana?! What are you waking me up for?"

Batista blinked at him in surprise.

Rey groaned. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. My God, Dave, grow a sense of humor…"

He yawned and stretched.

Dave smiled nervously. "Uh, yeah…sorry, Rey."

"What time is it, anyway?" Rey asked, standing up and walking over to his suitcase to grab some clothes.

"I let you sleep til ten."

Rey yawned. "That was a good decision on your part, then, because I am still exhausted."

Batista frowned. "Rey, where are you going?"

His friend had grabbed his watch and some clothes and was headed out the door.

"To take a really, really, quick shower. Why?"

"We were all waiting for you to wake up so that we could start searching the house for him."

Rey stared at him. "Wait, you mean that he's seriously missing?"

Batista stared back at him. "Yes, he's seriously missing! Did you think I was joking?!"

"No! I thought you meant like, 'oh, he's on the roof and we can't get him to come down, he's gone!' or 'Oh, we're really lazy and we haven't bothered to even look for him in his own bedroom, he's gone!'"

"What are you implying?!" Batista demanded, offended.

"I'm saying every time you guys have a problem, you make me do all the hard work for you. I warned all of you that this place was dangerous. You didn't listen to me. I will be furious at you if you haven't searched the house at all before waking me up. Because right now, Dave, you're scaring the hell out of me and I'm assuming that Jericho was kidnapped by that ghost."

Rey stared him down.

Batista blinked sheepishly and twiddled his thumbs. "Rey, you should go take a really, really long shower and then eat a really, really, big breakfast."

Rey frowned. "Why?"

Batista grimaced. "Because we haven't searched the house at all yet."

Rey gave a lengthy sigh and walked out of the room. "Hasta luego."

An hour and a half later, Rey was showered, dressed, cologne-d (Rey loved cologne. He had countless different scents at his house and he'd brought one of his favorites with him) and was just finishing a bowl of yogurt, blueberries and granola when all of the guys came charging into the room.

Jeff Hardy vaulted over the back of a chair and managed to land onto the seat.

Rey sat, blinking, and then swallowed. John Cena leapt through the air and belly-flopped onto the other couch, causing it to slide forward about a foot.

Batista came over and sat down on the couch next to Rey.

"Did you find him?" Rey asked.

"No."

Rey flushed and covered his mouth. "And he wasn't outside?"

Rey looked very, very pale.

Punk eyed him and walked over, sitting in a sofa chair close to the luchador.

"I think Rey knows where Jericho is."

Rey started and looked up at Punk. "I-no, why would I know that?"

Batista looked daggers at him. "You better have something to back that up with, Punk."

C.M. Punk crossed his legs and set his fingertips together. "I heard footsteps last night at three different times. Three people were out of their rooms. And from the look on your face Rey, one of those people was you."

Rey swallowed. Everyone stared at him.

"I-"

But before he could explain, Shawn Michaels saw an opportunity to wreak havoc and he seized it.

"I bet Rey was out there meeting Cena. Dave, don't you think so?"

Batista's eyes widened. If Rey had snuck out of their room at night, maybe it was to meet another guy. And maybe it was a romantic rendezvous, he didn't know that.

Rey frowned, confused. "Is everyone speaking in code, why would I- what would I be doing at three in the morning with John? I-"

Rey's brain caught up with everyone else's dirty, dirty minds and his eyes flashed.

"What in God's name is wrong with you people?! I wasn't anywhere near his room last night!"

Punk shrugged calmly. "Whatever. I heard three people. And one of them was obviously Jericho because no one else was snatched from their rooms last night; ergo the missing one must have been one of the three to leave his room."

Rey frowned. "What times did you hear footsteps, Punk?"

Punk took out a notepad. "I wrote the times down. Also, I have a weight estimate for all three. The footsteps gave me the impression that people were a certain size. As a wrestler, I just couldn't help but notice that."

All the guys shrugged. Yeah, that type of stuff was on their mind usually. Weight classification…the price of protein shakes…etc.

Punk continued. "At two AM there were heavyweights' footsteps. Alone. And there was only the steps going somewhere, I didn't hear any of them coming back to the room."

"That one was obviously Jericho," Batista said.

"Yeah," Punk nodded. "I think that's when the ghost grabbed him."

He looked back at the notepad. "At three AM there was another set of footsteps. A cruiserweight's. And I heard returning footsteps about half an hour later."

Batista looked at Rey, who didn't say anything, just listened.

"You can do a lot in half an hour with that third person, Dave…" HBK chimed in.

Batista flinched and glared at Cena before looking back at his friend.

"Rey, tell me you didn't leave our room last night, come on," he begged.

"I did leave our room around three in the morning," Rey admitted weakly. "I'm sorry, Dave, I didn't want to wake you."

"Why not?" Batista demanded.

Triple H sighed. "Jesus Rey, it sounds to me like you woke up and found Jericho passed out and had an accomplice in kidnapping him or worse."

"Or it sounds like you heard Jericho disappear and couldn't sleep because it made you want a…friend, and you snuck out at three and met someone and did things for half an hour with them," Shawn said, loving this.

"No! I didn't do anything, I-" Rey protested, but Punk cut him off.

"Wait a second! Before anybody jumps to any conclusions about Rey, listen to my notes about the third person."

"What weight were they? It was a heavyweight, wasn't it? It was one of us!" Batista pursued.

"Dave I didn't-" Rey pleaded.

"The third set of footsteps was at 3:20 AM and they mixed with Rey's. And that person was a featherweight. And there were no returning footsteps."

Batista was about to explode at Rey when he realized that no one here weighed less than the luchador. And Rey was a cruiserweight.

"A featherweight?! And they didn't have returning footsteps?!" Batista asked.

"Oh my God, Rey, what did you do?" Shawn asked teasingly.

"WILL EVERYBODY JUST CALM DOWN?!" Rey screamed.

Everyone shut up.

Rey huffed. "Thank you. I...let me explain. I wasn't meeting anyone last night. I was woken up at three in the morning and I didn't want to wake you, Dave, because you get ticked off as fuck at night when people wake you, you know you do."

Everyone nodded.

"That's true, Dave," Randy Orton confirmed.

Batista frowned. "Rey, what the hell woke you?"

"I'm getting to that. I woke up at three and I- you're all going to think I'm crazy or that I'm making this up, but it's the truth. I saw like, small, glowing feet run away from the door."

"What now?" Batista demanded.
"Dave, just calm down, let me finish," Rey pleaded. "I…I got my flashlight and walked down the hall to the right of our doorway. I guess I was walking up until around 3:20AM and then my flashlight went out. The batteries were suddenly dead. And I turned and I saw…a-a little girl."

"Rey, are you feeling all right?" Batista asked, concerned now.

"Yes, I'm fine! But I'm telling you, I saw the ghost of a little girl."

"Rey, if you're lying then you can tell me that, I just want to know who you were with," Batista begged.

"I wasn't with a guy, you idiot!" Rey fumed. "You heard Punk! At 3:20 I saw the ghost. At 3:20 he heard a featherweight's footsteps. It was a little girl, Dave! I saw her, and she walked over to me after I saw her. I told you, a little girl was found murdered in this house. And I'm telling you now; I met her ghost last night."

"At 3:20 AM?"

"Yes," Rey said, exasperated.

"Where did she go?"

"She vanished around…three thirty, I guess. And then I went back to the room and went back to sleep," Rey finished.

Everyone was quiet.

No one knew quite what to believe. Either everything had been paranormal last night or Rey had gone crazy in like eight different ways.

Triple H spoke up. "I don't think Rey and a featherweight could have done anything to Jericho's body. And you never saw him last night, did you Rey?"

"No," Rey answered unblinkingly, looking into Triple H's eyes. The larger wrestler was giving him a lie detector test and he knew it. Triple H could smell bullshit a mile away, and Rey was notorious for being a horrible liar.

"Okay, so you didn't see Jericho. Did you hear him vanish or walk around at two?"

"No," Rey responded honestly. "I was asleep then."

"He's telling the truth," Triple H said after a minute.

Rey exhaled in relief.

"Sorry I thought you were a kidnapper, Rey," Triple H apologized.

"It's okay," Rey assured him.

"What about my theory that Rey was being a naughty boy…?" Shawn reminded them.

Rey glared at him ferociously. "I did not. See. Any of the guys last night. Period. Drop it before I wring your neck."

"I don't think he's lying about that, either," Triple H offered.

Batista looked at Rey desperately. "Do you have any proof, Rey? Any proof that it was a ghost?"

Rey thought hard for a second. He could say that they could all meet Sylvia for themselves tonight, but he'd promised her he'd come alone. He couldn't show her to them without scaring off the poor girl.

"I…I don't know. She's a ghost, Dave, what proof could I have?"

Batista looked at Rey mournfully, assuming that Rey was lying and had somehow convinced Punk to say that it was a lightweight. He thought Rey had snuck out and met up with one of the heavyweights and maybe, just maybe, it would have been Cena and neatly prove HBK's theory that Rey liked Cena more than Batista.

Everyone frowned.

"Your flashlight," Jeff said suddenly. "Rey, did you change your batteries to your flashlight?"

Leave it to Jeff Hardy to hear a whole story and fixate on an obscure detail.

Rey brightened. "No! No, I didn't have time to change the batteries! I went back to sleep, I was so tired! I was going to change them tonight!"

Batista blinked and dashed upstairs without another word. He came back moments later carrying Rey's flashlight.

"I put the batteries in here for you myself, remember?" Dave asked Rey seriously.

"I know you did, Dave," Rey said.

"And so you know that I know for a fact that these batteries are supposed to be fully charged, right?" Batista pressed.

"Yes," Rey said.

Dave unscrewed the bottom of the flashlight and checked to see that the two batteries were inside. He put them back in. Now was the moment of truth.

He clicked the on switch and nothing happened. Batista tried it several times, but the batteries were dead. He stared at it in awe.

Rey exhaled in relief. "You saved me, Jeff, thanks."

Jeff nodded spacily. "No problem. I'm gonna go get you some new batteries," he bunny-hopped away to do just that.

Punk shook his head in astonishment. "So we had someone get spirited away by ghosts and then you met a little girl ghost, Rey? Wow."

Triple H shrugged. "I told you I thought he was telling the truth. God knows Rey can't lie worth a damn."

Shawn Michaels was boiling mad, now. His plot to create chaos had just nearly come to fruition and Rey had saved himself. Damn it.

Batista set the flashlight down and sat on the couch. He looked at Rey and smiled, relieved.

"I'm sorry I doubted you, buddy."

Rey shrugged, "I would have woken you if I didn't think you'd have bitten my head off, Dave. I'm sorry I didn't tell you I left, though."

Batista reached his arm around Rey and gave him a squeeze. Rey patted his back.

Shawn wanted to gag.

Triple H smacked him on the back. "Maybe you'll cause World War Three next time, man," he said under his breath.

Shawn shook his head and clutched at his jeans furiously. He grinned insanely.

"Oh, I'll make shit explode soon. Before this week is up, little Rey is not gonna know what to do with the type of drama I'm gonna cook up for him," he hissed.

No one heard them.

"Do you think that the ghost girl took Jericho, Rey?" Punk asked, bringing the subject back to the ghosts.

Rey frowned. "I'm not sure. I only met her last night, but she seems more sad than dangerous to me. She doesn't seem mean or evil. I don't know why she'd want to kidnap any of us. I told her we were all friendly and that we didn't mean her any harm."

Punk thought for a minute. "What was her name, Rey?"

"Sylvia."

Punk started. "So it really is the ghost of the girl who was murdered here? How could you tell? Did she speak to you?"

"She's mute. She can't talk. I asked her if Sylvia was her name and she nodded," Rey said.

"Why didn't she speak? Was she afraid of you?" Batista asked, doubtful that anyone could be too intimidated by Rey.

"She doesn't have a tongue," Rey explained quietly.

Batista started and Punk's eyes widened. "What do you mean? Like, she was born without one?"

Rey shook his head. "No, you need your tongue to survive; you have to have it in order to swallow correctly. It must have been cut out of her mouth, there's no way you could live to become a ten-year-old without a tongue."

He knew things like that for sure because he had children.

"Maybe it was cut out by the killer," Punk suggested.

"Probably," Rey agreed.

Batista shuddered. "That's horrible. How did that not scare you off, Rey?"

Rey bit his lip. "She's a sweet little thing. She cried when I was about to leave. I was so tired; I told her I had to go back to bed. But she was upset. I just felt like I was the only one she could go to for help. So I promised her I would meet her again tonight."

Punk looked excited by this. "That's great! You have a way to contact her?"

"Well, I have a place I'm supposed to meet her at midnight."

"Can we come?" Punk asked.

Rey shook his head apologetically. "You're gonna laugh when I tell you this, but she's afraid of you guys. She wants me to talk to her alone."

Triple H did laugh at that.

Batista frowned. "She's scared of me? She wasn't scared by you even though you're covered in all those tattoos?"

Rey blushed and shrugged. "I don't think they're scary to my kids. Aalyah actually told me once that she thought they were 'pretty'."

Triple H chuckled, "Or, maybe Aalyah's more of a badass than you give her credit for, Rey. Maybe she'll grow up to get awesome tattoos, too."

Rey smiled. "Maybe."

Shawn rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on. Screw the tattoos. Just look at that face. How could any little girl not love Rey's big puppy dog eyes?"

Rey blushed even more. "I'm not cute, stop calling me that."

They all sighed.

"So, I guess since we searched the whole house for him, there's nothing we can do for Jericho. We'll just have to wait until tomorrow when Rey's asked Sylvia if she knows where he is," Punk concluded.

"I don't want him to go see her alone," Batista intoned. "If she's responsible for Jericho's disappearance, I don't want Rey to go missing too."

"She already had one chance to grab me. Why didn't she take it then?" Rey reminded him.

Batista held his tongue. Rey got him there.

"She won't hurt me, Dave. I have a feeling that she needs me for something. She wants my help."

Punk sighed. "Give us an update tomorrow, okay?"

Rey nodded. "Of course. If she leads me to Jericho, I'll tell you."

They were all quiet for a minute.

"So you guys checked all the bedrooms and the bathrooms?" Rey asked, going over where Jericho could be.

"Yep," Triple H confirmed.
"And the yard? Because there's no trees for a while; we'd see him if he wandered off in any direction. The forest doesn't start for yards and yards."

"No sign of him outside," Batista assured him.

"And the attic and the basement?" Rey asked.

Punk nodded. "Yeah, we looked in the attic."

Rey frowned. "But what about the basement?"

They all blinked at him. "There isn't a basement."

Rey shook his head. "No, the brochure says they had a cellar."

Batista thought for a second. "We couldn't find one, Rey. We couldn't find a door leading down any further than this floor right here. And we're at ground level right now."

That worried Rey. "There has to be a door to the basement. That's gotta be where Jericho is. We need to find it."

Batista swallowed. "Don't worry about that right now, Rey."

Rey shook his head. "No, I can't help it, Dave."

"Rey, it's not going to do you any good to be so damn stubborn and work yourself up into a nervous wreck over this situation," Batista warned.

"It's not going to do you any good to keep lecturing me about how I think, because I'll think what I want to, Dave, so deal with it," Rey shot back.

Awkward silence.

"I'm bored," Jeff said as he put new batteries in Rey's flashlight. "I want a popsicle."

C.M. Punk sighed like an exhausted babysitter.

"I brought you your damn popsicles, just hold your horses while I go get the box," he said and walked into the kitchen.

"I want to go outside…" Jeff whined. Everybody filtered outside.

Rey, Dave, Triple H and Shawn stayed on the couches for a minute.

Triple H sighed. "Yeah, well, I'd like to see a fire in this fireplace tonight, but we don't have any firewood. We can't always get what we want. Right, Shawn?"

Shawn glared at him and mouthed the words, "Fuck you."

The two of them went out.

Rey remained with Batista. Rey was lost in thought and lifted his fingers to his mouth to start chewing his nails when Batista gently took hold of his wrist.

Rey looked at him.

"Don't do that."

"Bite my nails?" Rey asked sarcastically.

"You know what I mean. Don't start putting the world on your shoulders again," Batista said softly.

Rey looked at Batista holding his wrist and carefully pulled it away.

"I don't have the same feelings for you that you have for me, Dave," Rey reminded him quietly.

Batista swallowed painfully.

There was nothing more to say. He stood up and walked out.

Rey wanted to kick himself. That had sounded much crueler than he thought it would.

He stood up and went out onto the porch.

Punk offered him a popsicle. "You want something frozen with no nutritional value whatsoever?"

Rey shrugged. "Sure. Sounds good."

He took a grape flavored one and sat down away from the steps so that he could swing his legs over the edge.

"Is junk food your only vice, Punk?" Rey asked him as they unwrapped their treats.

Punk chuckled. "Yeah, I guess you could say that."

"Cheers," Rey said with a sigh and knocked popsicles with C.M. Punk before they started eating them.

"Dave's right, you know, you need to stop worrying so much," Punk told Rey as they sat on the porch.

Rey rolled his shoulders, trying to force himself to un-tense, but he couldn't do it.

He saw Jeff climbing the single tree that was close to the house yet again. Everyone else was wandering around like kids on a playground.

"I don't think that was a good idea on your part to give him sugar," Rey said as Jeff plummeted out of the tree only to scramble up it again like some type of human squirrel.

They both winced.

"Yeah, well, by the time that occurred to me, Jeff had already wolfed down two popsicles and taken off," Punk confessed.

Cena and Batista looked like they were about to get into something again.

"Guys!" Rey called, breaking it up. "Go find something productive to do!"

Triple H jogged over to Rey. "How about they chop some firewood?" he hissed.

"Are you a pyromaniac? Because you're like obsessed with starting a fire now," Punk said.

Triple H shrugged. "Maybe, I don't know. It's cold here at night, and there's nothing to do but just sit around and talk."

Rey chewed on the last bit of his popsicle thoughtfully. He waved over Cena and Batista, because they were still staring at him, awaiting instructions.

Rey swallowed the last piece of his popsicle and sucked on the stick to get to the flavor soaked in there.

"The forest starts off to the right over there. Go grab some sticks and dry, fallen pieces of wood and start breaking it up and putting it in piles and things. And bring it into the living room without making a mess. You should probably scrape most of the bark off of it," Rey instructed.

Cena and Batista just stared hungrily and kind of awkwardly at Rey, who suddenly realized he was sucking on a phallic symbol.

Rey groaned and took it out of his mouth and snapped it cleanly in half.

The two men started in terror and got the message. They dashed off to get the firewood.

Rey exhaled through his nose. He'd gotten all of the flavor out of the popsicle stick, at least.

"Why didn't you tell me it looked like I was doing something sexual?" he demanded, looking at Triple H.

Punk wasn't interested in Rey physically as much as he was mentally, so he might not have considered what the popsicle looked like, either.
Triple H shrugged. "We always assume that you know when you're being flirtatious, but I guess not. Sorry, man."

Rey shook his head. "I can't do anything around you guys, can I?"

Punk patted his back.

**

Cena trucked a load of cleaned sticks into the house and clunked back out onto the steps and sat down. He was panting and his t-shirt was soaked with sweat. He waved air at himself and gasped, "I'm done, I got the damn kindling, but fuck, this place gets hot during the heat of the day, y'know?"

Rey sighed. "Sit still, I'll get you some water. Anybody else want one?"

Triple H and Punk raised their hands. Rey chuckled. "Be right back."

Of course Batista just so happened to look up from his furious attempts to impress his best friend and crush when Rey was handing Cena a water bottle and smiling at him.

Batista's cheeks burned with envy and he snapped a log in two with his bare hands.

Shawn was sitting off near Jeff and the tree, watching the developing resentment in Batista. He looked between the Animal and Rey, who was blissfully unaware of the severity of the rivalry developing between Cena and his friend. Shawn sat and relished the plot thickening all around him.

Jeff caused karma to strike by accidentally falling off the tree again and landing on Shawn.

"Fuck!" he shouted. Jeff got a soft landing out of the situation, at least. That's what you get for making up evil schemes.

Rey didn't hear or see any of this happening.

The luchador sat back down in his spot and drank some water. He turned to watch Dave.

"He is one gay motherfucker," Cena pronounced, shaking his head at Batista as he ripped wood apart with his shirt off, trying to impress a certain someone, no doubt.

"You are too," Rey reminded Cena.

John looked at him indignantly. "I am not! You're the only dude I like! And I get more pussy than you so stop judgin' me!"

"If you're talking about the quantity of women you sleep with, then yeah, you win, because I'm married," Rey said dryly.

Cena shrugged.

"Well, what about the quantity of sex?" Shawn said teasingly, leaning in over Rey's shoulder. He'd crept over onto the porch because his back hurt after being landed on.

"Man, you need to stop being such a damn creeper and hanging all over Rey-Rey like that. It's giving him the damn willies and you know it," Cena informed HBK.

Shawn rolled his eyes and sat back. "Whatever."

"The answer to your question is that he probably still has more sex than me and Angie, 'cause once again, I'm married, which means we see each other all the time, so it's not like we have to impress the other with crazy sexcapades every time we meet. Plus, we have to make sure the kids are somewhere else," Rey told Shawn.

"Okay, so he beats you on quantity. What about quality?" Shawn asked slyly.

Rey grinned and took a sip of his water, kicking his feet happily back and forth over the edge of the porch.

He winked.

Rey managed to be so sexy just then that he even made Shawn Michaels blush.

They all laughed.

"So you're a real Don Juan, hunh?"

Rey chuckled. "I don't know if I'd go that far," he admitted. "But we're happy together."

**

Day Two at the Haunted House (Day Three at Midnight)

They all sat and talked around the fire when it got dark outside.

"This is nice," Rey noted, beaming. "You did a great job with the firewood, Dave, we have enough for the whole week now."

Batista smiled proudly. "Thanks, Rey."

"You too, Cena," Rey said, complimenting John Cena's efforts, even though they were smaller. He'd brought in all the kindling, which was not very heavy. Batista had brought in like twenty-five logs. Big, crazy-thick logs.

"You can't make a fire without kindling," Triple H added.

Rey nodded. "Yeah."

Cena smiled his arrogant grin.

Batista looked crestfallen that Cena received attention too.

When Rey looked back at his friend he looked sullen again.

Rey stopped smiling. He just couldn't win.

Rey swallowed. He looked at his watch. It was eleven thirty.

"Um…I'm going to go up and get ready for bed," he said quietly and wished everyone a good night's sleep.

C.M. Punk lied in his bed awake that night, waiting for midnight to come around. That's what most of the guys were doing in their respective bedrooms.

Rey himself was putting on socks in preparation for going out of his room at midnight.

"The floor was cold last night," Rey explained conversationally. He was trying to coax Batista into speaking to him again. It wasn't working, so far.

"Dave, I…I would let you come if Sylvia hadn't said that she was scared of you guys."

Batista glared at him. "You seriously think your tattoos aren't scaring that little girl?"

Rey blinked helplessly at him. "What do you want me to do, put a t-shirt on?"

Batista snorted. "That wouldn't help; you have tattoos on your arms, too, Rey. Or did you forget those?"

Rey recognized when he couldn't win at compromising and went on the defensive.

"Screw it. I'm not playing dress-up with you just so you can pout at me for a few more hours."

Batista didn't say anything.

Rey picked up his flashlight and went to the door. "Later, Dave," he muttered and went out without a second glance.