#ChurchGrim!Danny

[ghostlyglimmer]

The Black Dog of Amity Park

CHAPTER 1

Summary:

After a fight with her parents, Sam Manson seeks solace in Amity Park’s old, neglected cemetery, rumored to be haunted by the mysterious church grim dubbed 'The Black Dog of Amity Park'.

Notes:

I'm super excited to finally bring this giant AU that's been rattling in my brain to the world! I hope you guys enjoy! Church Grims are my FAVORITE spectral entity. I find them to be so comforting.

The late summer sun had long since dipped below the horizon, leaving Amity Park cloaked in twilight. The soft glow of streetlights barely illuminated the cracks in the sidewalks as Sam Manson stormed out of her house, her boots thudding against the pavement. Her parents' voices still echoed in her head, dismissing her individuality and belittling her ideals. For years, they had tolerated her "phase," but tonight's argument had gone too far.

She wiped at her eyes with the back of her gloved hand as she made her way toward the Amity Park Cemetery. It was her refuge, a place where the living rarely ventured after dark. The rumors of the Amity Park Hound—a spectral, black dog with glowing green eyes—kept most people away.

But not Sam.

The cemetery greeted her with an eerie silence, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. Wrought iron gates creaked as she pushed them open, revealing rows of headstones in various states of neglect. Weeds choked the pathways, moss clung to the stones, and several markers had fallen over, left to decay in the dirt.

Sam frowned, a pang of sadness swelling in her chest. "This place deserves better," she murmured. It wasn’t right for the final resting place of so many to be forgotten like this.

She crouched down beside the nearest headstone, her hands brushing away the weeds that clung stubbornly to its base. The name etched into the stone was barely legible, worn away by time and neglect. "Don’t worry, Mrs. Peterson," she said softly, as though the name could still hear her. "I’ll fix this."

As she worked, her voice filled the empty graveyard. She spoke to the names on each stone, offering quiet reassurances and apologies for the neglect they’d endured. Pulling weeds, scraping off moss, and even propping up a toppled headstone, she poured her frustration and sorrow into her labor. Each sniffle betrayed her emotions—anger at her parents, sadness for the forgotten dead, and a strange sense of peace she found in their silent company.

Unbeknownst to her, glowing green eyes watched from the shadows of the treeline. Danny, the Amity Park Church Grim, stood with his hackles raised, his black fur bristling. His haunt had been plagued in recent years by delinquents looking for a thrill, knocking over headstones or leaving graffiti in their wake. He’d been ready to chase her out.

But this girl was different.

His ears perked up, his fur relaxing as he watched her. She wasn’t here to destroy anything. Quite the opposite—she was cleaning. She cared. Her small hands worked diligently, carefully, as if each stone belonged to someone she had loved. Her quiet voice carried on the wind, and Danny tilted his head as he caught the sniffles between her words.

She was crying. Why?

Danny's glowing eyes softened, his tail beginning to wag slowly. He liked this girl. For the first time in years, someone was showing his haunt the respect it deserved. She wasn’t just fixing stones—she was honoring those who rested there, as he had once done himself.

Sam paused now and then, brushing her arm across her face to wipe away tears she hoped no one could see. The sniffles reached his ears, and Danny tilted his head, his curiosity deepening. He wondered why this girl would come here, alone and upset, to do something so kind and so utterly thankless.

From his place in the shadows, Danny didn’t move closer. He didn’t want to interrupt or scare her. Instead, he settled in to watch, his large, dark frame blending with the treeline. His glowing eyes followed her every motion, and for the first time in a long while, he felt a strange warmth in his spectral heart.

This girl wasn’t like the others. She cared for his haunt, cared for the souls who rested there. And though she didn’t know it, she’d earned the silent protection of the Church Grim that night.