#TW: Character death | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

missrosegold · 1 year ago

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I met the devil by the window, traded my life

Synopsis: When horrendous acts of violence occur, they sometimes leave behind impressions that continue to linger long after the initial event. Rarely are they ever pleasant.

Sometimes, what’s left behind isn’t necessarily a something, rather, a someone.

You’re about to find that out the hard way.

Word count: 16k

Paring: Dabi x Reader (Fem Reader)

Warnings: Character Death, Manipulation, Mildly Dubious Consent, General Demon Mindfuckery, just know that Dabi is not a good person in this one, he's ment to be unhinged, so Minors or Ageless blogs DNI. This is rated 18+.

Written for @candycandy00 League of Villain's Horror Anthology Collab! Thank you so much for having me love! I hope you enjoy my contribution! I had a lot of fun with this one!

Thank you to the lovely @kimkaelyn for the beautiful banner - and thank you for all the encouragement you've given me recently, it means the world to me. 💙

(Shamelessly inspired by Poltergeist and Silent Hill)

**You can read it on A03 here if the formatting on Tumblr is throwing you off! I cross-post all my works onto my A03 account!

You should’ve known something wasn’t right when you stumbled across the Air B&B booking.

It was too good to be true. You weren’t dumb. Realistically, you knew that anything that was too good to be true, normally was, and you should avoid it like the plague, but for once, you decided to indulge your curiosities a little.

You had been looking for a place to stay while travelling abroad in Japan with a few of your friends, when you had found the listing completely out of the blue. You remember reading the details the website had provided, your eyes bugging out of your head as you swiped to look at the pictures of the listing that were posted.

From an outsider’s perspective, it was perfect. It was a massive house, practically a mansion, located right in the heart of Shizuoka Prefecture. The mansion backed out onto a large nature preserve, and despite being located very close to the city’s core, it was private – a massive retaining wall surrounded the entire property, except for the far side of the yard, which backed out onto the forest that surrounded the property from the back.

The mansion itself was so large, it could easily house you and your three other friends for the two weeks you planned on being in the country for. Best of all: it was cheap. Really cheap. It was well under price compared to what all the other lodgings you’d looked at previously wanted for a two week stay.

You’d booked it for you and your friends without so much as a second though. How could you possibly pass on such a great deal? The simple answer was, you couldn’t.

You’d excitedly told your friends about what you found, and once they’d seen the listing for themselves, they had agreed that even if the house wasn’t exactly like what was shown, the price was too good to pass up on, and that any small issues the listing may or may not have could easily be overlooked.

It was too good to be true, and now you understood exactly why that was.

Currently, you’re running for your life though the same forest you had seen in the listing’s pictures, while your pursuer hunted you relentlessly through the dense brush.

You could feel the heat of the fire on your back behind you, the rancid smell of smoke burning your lungs as you struggled to keep your breathing even, but you didn’t dare stop running, nor did you spare a glance behind you, knowing full well what you’d see.

If you stopped, he’d catch you. If he caught you… God only knew what would happen to you then.

You dove behind a thick tree, clasping your hand over your mouth as you fought to calm your frantically beating heart, and level out your breathing. For a moment, you didn’t hear anything aside from the crackling of the fire behind you and the pounding of your own heart. You almost risked sticking your head out from behind your hiding spot to see if you had managed to lose your pursuer, until a voice cut though the smoke and haze surrounding you:

“Oh little mouse… where are you? Why don’t you come out and play? I don’t bite… much.”

You feel tears spring to your eyes involuntarily at the sound of the otherworldly rasp that cuts through the smoky air like a knife. He sounds close. Too close for comfort, but you don’t dare to try and run from your spot, too afraid of giving up your position to the man—no, the demon that was hunting you through the burning woods.

“C’mon darlin, I was just teasin’ you those other times. I wouldn’t actually hurt you. Not like your dumbass friends back there.”

There’s a horrible raspy snicker after that last comment, and you don’t bother to try and stop the tears you feel roll down your cheeks at the thought of your poor friends, and the state you left them in back at the mansion as you all but ran for your life:

Dead. Burnt down to little more than ash.

Such violent ends for girls who did nothing to deserve them.

You want to cry openly at the cruelty of his comment, but you know he’s baiting you. He wants you to show him where you are. You don’t believe him for a second when he says he won’t hurt you, when you’ve seen first-hand what he’s capable of.

A few seconds of silence pass aside from the ominous popping and crackling of the forest fire that’s steadily drawing closer to your location, before he seemingly loses patience with your lack of cooperation. In the most demonic sounding voice you’ve ever heard, he bellows:

“GET THE FUCK OUT HERE!”

Your blood turns to ice in your veins as the creature seethes with barely suppressed rage. You don’t know what to do. If you stay where you are, you’re dead. If you go to him, you’re definitely dead. You’re fucked regardless of what you pick.

When he speaks again, he sounds smug, and you can hear the smirk in his voice as he calls out to you:

“I’m going to count to ten Doll. If you’re not out here by the time I’m done, I’ll burn this whole fucking forest down, and turn everything around it to ash.”

You let a muffled sob escape, not bothering to try and hide it now. Your sobs only grow harder as you hear him start to count in his chilling rasp, “One… Two… Three…”

You close your eyes, desperately trying to think of a way out; but there is no escape, you already know there isn’t. The demon that’s been hunting you through the forest for the last hour made sure of that when he set the mansion on fire, and subsequently, the surrounding forest.

Your mind goes blank as you take in your current reality, and despite everything, you find yourself thinking back to when this nightmare first started for you and your friends, nearly a week earlier when you arrived at the mansion…

-----

The mansion itself was an intimidating place.

It doesn’t look as foreboding from the other side of the retaining wall that surrounds the property – the massive gardens that sit just behind the wall are well maintained, and the house itself is clearly well taken care of, even though the website mentioned that no one has lived in the house for a little over a decade for some unknown reason.

You first get the impression that something is off with the house the moment you step through the front door. You set your bags down at the entrance, and take in the sweeping archways and long hallways that lead to other rooms of the house you’ve yet to explore with your friends, before you realize how still the interior of the house is.

Aside from the noise you and your friends are making as you move your bags inside, there’s no other sound in the house. As soon as the door to the outside closes, the inside of the house is completely silent.

You can’t put your finger on it, but something about the odd silence has the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. You seem to be the only one affected by the interior of the house, as your friends are mindlessly chatting amongst themselves as they grab their bags and move further inward, presumably to do some exploring.

You best friend nudges your shoulder and gives you a small smile, snapping you out of your reprieve. “You okay? You’ve been really quiet since we got here.”

“I’m fine.” You tell her gently, brushing off your earlier concerns. “I’m just tired.”

She nods. “Same here. I think we’ll all feel better once we eat something and get some sleep. The flight over here was so long.”

Just then, one of your other friends loops back to where you and your best friend are standing, waving you both over.

“Hey! We’re just picking out rooms! Do you two wanna come take a look and see if there’s any you fancy? The second floor of the house is all bedrooms from what we can see.”

You both follow her up to the second floor of the house. Sure enough, the long hallway is lined with sliding panels that open into bedrooms. Some are open and some are still closed. Your other friend pops out from a room near the middle of the hallway and waves at you.

“Come take a look! I think all these rooms are bedrooms. Go see if there’s one you want to claim as our own, I already know which one I want.” She grins as she taps the sliding door of the room she’s in.

You laugh at her antics and move further down the hallway. “Have you explored all of them yet?”

“No, just the ones closest to the stairs and the ones near the middle. Haven’t gotten the chance to look at the ones at the end of the hallway.” She tells you honestly, jerking her thumb to the end of the hallway, where you can see two doors remain closed.

Your best friend follows you down the hallway, and opens up the panel on the right. “Oh wow. This must be the master bedroom.” She mutters as she peaks in the dim room. “Maybe we’ll just keep this one shut. Seems rude to sleep in the master bedroom. I’ll take one of the other rooms.”

You watch as she closes the panel again and moves back down the hallway to where your other friends are chatting, leaving you to the last door on the left. Just as you extend your hand to open the door, a sudden flash of heat runs up your extended hand and through your body, disappearing as quickly as it came, but it still causes you to pull your hand back with a gasp.

You inspect your hand, looking for signs of a burn, only to find nothing wrong with the skin of your palm. You stare blankly at the wood and paper paneling that makes up the sliding door, not sure what to make of what just happened, before you slowly pull the door open. This time, nothing prevents you from doing so.

You step into the dark room slowly, allowing your eyes to adjust to the dim before looking around. It looks as though no one has stepped inside the room for years, as you notice the thick layer of dust settled upon every available surface. The room looks like it once belonged to a young boy, possibly a pre-teen, as you note the posters of various superhero’s scattered about the otherwise bare walls.

A few pieces of furniture are pushed up against the walls, and for some reason your heart aches when you look at the small, twin-sized bed. Everything in the room feels dated, like nothing progressed past a certain point in time, and you can’t figure out why you feel like that, until you see it:

There, in the darkest corner of the room, is an ornate cabinet-like structure that looks similar to a closet, but something feels very off about the wooden structure. Just as you’re about to move towards it, your friends appear at the door, their happy chatter quieting down as they observe you.

“There you are! We were wondering when you dispersed to!” your one friend grins as she pushes her way into the room, looking around. “Huh, I guess the people who own this house have a bunch of kids. The other rooms aside from the master bedroom are all kid themed.”

You don’t respond, still trying to figure out what about the cabinet is bothering you so much, before your second friend approaches you, nodding to the dark wooden structure. “What’s that?”

“I don’t know.” You admit. “I don’t think it’s a closet though.”

“The website didn’t mention it?”

“No.” You mutter, brows furrowing together as you think back to the pictures you’d seen of the listing. “Actually, I don’t think they included any pictures of this room. I don’t remember seeing any.”

Your best friend makes her way to where you’re standing and squints at the cabinet for a second before her face sours.

“Not to be a downer, but I think this is a butsudan.”

You turn to her, eyebrow quirked in silent question, and she elaborates. “It’s like a home shrine for family members who’ve died. They keep ashes or pictures of the person in there some times.”

“No way, there’s like… somebody’s ashes in there?” your first friend speaks, shuddering, and your best friend shrugs.

“Sometimes, not always though.” She glances around the room. “Really hoping I’m wrong about that, since this is a kid’s room…” she trails off uncomfortably, but the implication of her words is clear:

A child who lived here at some point, died.

For some unexplainable reason, you suddenly feel drawn to the wooden structure and you slowly cross the room until you’re standing directly in front of the doors. Just as you’re about to reach out to open them, your second friend’s voice stops you.

“What are you doing?” she asks, a nervous laugh in her voice. “I don’t think you should touch that.”

“I’m just going to take a peek.” You reassure her, placing your hands on the doors. “If someone has to sleep in this room, I wanna make sure there isn’t a child’s ashes in here.” You cast a pointed look at them. “I’m assuming it’s going to be me. You’ve all taken the other rooms aside from the master, and I don’t think anyone wants to sleep in there out of respect.”

When your friends don’t protest, you sigh and pull the doors open without a second thought, expecting the worst. Thankfully, no urn stares back at you, but something else does:

A picture of a boy, no older then thirteen or fourteen peers back at you through the gloom of the dark cabinet.

You suck in a breath as you take in the boy’s delicate features. He’s young, baby-faced, even though his shockingly white hair would suggest he’s much older than he appears. The other thing you immediately notice about the boy, are his eyes. His eyes are a startling shade of blue, a stark contrast from the surrounding darkness in the room, and before you can stop yourself, you’ve reached out to gently take the picture off its place on the mantal to have a closer look.

The instant the photo leaves the mantal, the same rush of heat flashes through you, only this time it’s worse. This time you feel like you’re being burned alive as liquid fire curses through your veins. The pain is so bad, it locks you in place, unable to scream as you feel like you being incinerated from the inside out. All the while, you’re unable to release your grip on the picture frame in your hands.

Suddenly, two piercing blue eyes surrounded by gnarled purple skin cut across your vision. They glare at you ominously before blinking out of existence, and as quick as the burning sensation came on, it vanishes.

You let out a gasp, and the picture frame slips through your fingers and crashes to the floor, the glass pane protecting the photo, shattering and splintering into pieces as the boy’s deep blue eyes stare back up at you amidst the mess of glass and wood.

“Shit.” You breathe as you stoop down to pick the old photo out from underneath the glass.

“What was that about?” your best friend asks you worriedly, glancing between you and the shattered frame. “We tried calling your name, but you didn’t respond to us. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m… Did you not see that?” you croak, holding onto the photo in your hands gently. “The—the eyes? You didn’t see the eyes?”

“Eyes? What are you talking about?” your other friend pipes up. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re acting super spacy.”

“Yeah, I’m… fine… just… fine.” You mutter as you glace down at the photo. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

“We’ll go into town tomorrow and see if we can find a new frame for it.” Your best friend interjects quickly, seeing the distressed look on your face. “Let’s see if we can get this cleaned up. If you’re sure about sleeping in this room, I don’t want you getting glass in your feet. You get yourself situated; we’ll go find a broom.”

She leads your two other friends out of the room and you find yourself alone. You slowly place the photo back down at the alter and rub your temples tiredly.

“I’m sorry.” You mutter to the picture of the boy, even though you know he can’t respond. “I didn’t mean to do that. I’ll get you another frame. I promise.”

Just as you’re about to close the doors to the shrine again, something catches your eye. Just under the spot where the picture frame sat, there’s an engraving on the shelf. Squinting down at the neat characters, you’re just able to make out a name carved into the dark wood.

Todoroki Touya

The next morning you wake up feeling like you didn’t sleep at all.

You roll over with a groan and take in your surroundings blearily. You had ended up taking the room with the home shrine in it for yourself, but you hadn’t been able to bring yourself to use the small bed the room provided. Instead, you’d taken the pillows and top blanket off, and arraraged them into a small cot at the foot of the bed. It wasn’t the worst makeshift bed you’d ever used, but you hadn’t been able to make yourself comfortable all night – torn between feeling racked with guild over dropping the picture, and feeling like you were being watched.

The second feeling you couldn’t explain. You had woken up multiple times during the night, feeling like there were eyes on you, only for nothing to be there when you looked around your immediate surroundings. Each time you’d woken up, it had taken you ages to fall back asleep, leaving you drained by the time the first morning sunbeams filtered into the room from the covered window.

You opt to stay in bed for a little while longer, only heading downstairs when you hear the distant sounds of your friend’s voices floating up from the hall. You trudge downstairs, following the sounds emanating from what you assume is the kitchen, only to find your friends in the middle of making breakfast.

Your best friend looks up as you enter the kitchen, a small smile plastered on her face.

“Good morning.” She greats you kindly, passing you a plate piled high with eggs and breakfast meats. “Did you sleep well?”

“Not really.” You admit as you accept the plate. “I kept waking up during the night. Couldn’t get comfortable.”

“I still can’t believe you slept in that room.” Your other friend interest, biting into her toast. “You couldn’t pay me to sleep in there with that… thing.”

She doesn’t need to say it for you to know what she’s talking about. You shrug your shoulders and dig into your eggs.

“Didn’t feel right sleeping in the master bedroom. Honestly the room is nice, that’s not the issue. It’s just really… quiet in there.”

“Maybe it’s haunted.” Your other friend chimes in with a giggle, and you roll your eyes.

“With my luck it will be. Pretty sure I’m going to have a vengeful spirit on my ass after I dropped that picture.” You joke as you stare down at your food. “I’m going to go into town after this and see if I can find a replacement frame. I still can’t believe I did that.”

“I’m surprised they never had any pictures of that room on the booking site.” You best friend mutters as she slots herself next to you at the countertop. “That seems a little weird.”

“Well, the website said that no one’s lived in this house for a while. Maybe something happened to one of the kids.” You supply, and your friends grimace at your suggestion.

“You think maybe they’d mention that on the listing. You know; this house is haunted by a ghost child, stay at your own risk.” Your friend across from you quips, causing you to snicker.

“Some people pay big money for that. If anything, they could use it as a selling point. But I doubt it. I don’t believe in ghosts.” You finish up your breakfast and put your plate in the sink. “I’m going to get changed and head into town. I’ll be back in an hour or so, and then we can do some exploring.”

Your friends let out a muffled chorus of agreed noises, before going back to their breakfast, leaving you to head back upstairs to change. You shut the door to your room behind you and flick on the light so you can pull out some clothes out of your bag.

Just as you’re about to pull your sleep shirt over your head; a wave of heat flashes through your body like lightening, and suddenly, you feel the same soul-piercing eyes on you again.

You gasp, and slam your shirt back down, covering your exposed breasts again with a shudder. You glance around the room wildly; half expecting to see someone lurking in one of the corners, but just like the other times before; no one’s there. You’re alone, even though the prickling of your skin is telling you otherwise.

You don’t dare move from your spot, as you still feel like you’re being watched by something, but after a few moments the feeling dissipates, and you feel your body relax as the tension you didn’t realize you were holding onto, bleeds out.

You change quickly and do your makeup, before grabbing your purse and bidding your friends a quick “bye!”, before heading out the front door, and out into the warm sunshine.

Outside of the house, everything feels better. The atmosphere is more inviting compared to the almost oppressive feeling the upstairs gives off, and you find your anxious feelings fading away as you make your way into town.

You eventually find a shop that sells all manor of things, and decide to try your luck inside. The old woman behind the counter greets you with a smile, and just as you’re preparing to use what little Japanese you know, the woman greets you in perfect English.

“Hello dear. What bring you in today?”

You tell her what you’re looking for, and she leads you to a section of the shop where you can see a few wooden frames tucked away in a corner. As you pick out one that looks like it would fit the photo, the woman asks you how long you’d been in Japan for.

“My friends and I arrived last night actually.” You tell her with a smile as you pay for the frame. “We’re going to do some exploring around town when I get back. I’m just here to get a replacement for a picture I dropped last night.”

The older woman hums as she bags your purchase. “I see. Where are you staying dear?”

“I think it’s called the Todoroki house? I can’t remember the exact name of the listing.”

The old woman freezes just as she’s about to give you the bag. Her face displays a myriad of emotions, but the most dominate look on her face is concern… with what appears to be a tinge of fear.

“Do you mean the house that borders Sekoto Peak?” she murmurs quietly. “The one that backs out onto the forest?”

“That’s the one.” You confirm as you gently take the bag from her. “How did you—”

“You shouldn’t stay there.” The older woman cuts you off, shaking her head. “You and your friends should find another place to stay while you’re here.”

“Why? What’s wrong with it?” you press, causing the woman to swallow heavily. She smooths back a strip of white hair and mutters,

“Bad things have happened in that house. Nasty things.”

“What sort of things?” you ask as you flex your grip on the bag handles. The older woman looks around the store, almost as if she’s checking to see if someone is listening in, before she leans in towards you.

“That house has sat empty since the fire, and for good reason.”

“Fire? What fire? The listing never mentioned anything about a fire.” You mutter. The woman shakes her head, causing white strands of hair to fall out of her bun.

“It wouldn’t. the fire happened over ten years ago. Awful thing. The entirety of Sekoto Peak went up in a blaze. It almost burned down the Todoroki household with all of them in it.”

“All of them?”

The woman nods sagely. “The Todoroki’s. Enji, his wife Rei, and their four children: Fuyumi, Natsuo and the youngest, Shoto.”

“That’s three.” You correct her quietly, “What happened to the fourth?”

The woman’s thin lips press into a firm line, and once again, she looks around the shop nervously. Once she’s content that you’re alone, she continues:

“Their oldest boy died in the Sekoto fire. The blaze was so hot, it turned his bones into ash. There was nothing left for his family to burry.”

You feel tears spring to your eyes involuntarily at her admission. Suddenly, your mind wanders back to the butsudan sitting in your room, and the shattered picture of the snowy-haired boy you found in it.

“What was his name?” you ask her gently. The woman hesitated for a moment, before she sighs, and mutters under her breath,

“Touya Todoroki.”

You feel your blood turn to ice in your veins as you remember the name you found engraved into the dark wood where the picture sat.

Touya. So that was whose room you were staying in, and that was how he died: Burnt to ash and scattered into the wind.No wonder his family didn’t have his ashes in his shrine: there wasn’t anything left of him to grieve.

And you had dropped his fucking picture, shattering it. For all you know, that’s the only thing his family has left of him. The bag you’re holding onto suddenly feels a thousand times heavier in your grasp as you hold it tighter.

If the woman senses your inner turmoil, she doesn’t comment on it. Instead, she continues on, snapping you back to the present.

“We started hearing about some strange things happening around the house. Sometimes the family would come home and the house would be trashed, other times rooms would smell of smoke even though no one had been burning anything…” she paused. “and then the children started seeing things.”

“What kind of things?” You lift your head so you’re looking the older woman in the eyes as she quickly tacks on,

“No one’s really sure. Supposedly they’d wake up in the middle of the night claiming that were being watched, or something was standing in the room with them. Then some awful things started happening to little Shoto…bad things.”

You chew on your lip, not certain if you want to know what she means by that, but you nod, signaling for her to continue. The old woman swallows thickly. “We heard he was clawed multiple times in his sleep… among other things. Whatever was tormenting those children, Shoto got the worst of it. Things were not the same in that house after Touya died, but it didn’t stop.”

The woman frowns softly. “The lack of sleep, and the stress from her son dying must have gotten to Rei over time. Last we heard; she’d taken a kettle to Shoto… burned half of that poor child’s face. Her husband had her committed to a hospital immediately afterwards, and not even a week later, they were gone.”

“They… they just left? Just like that?” you ask subdued, thinking about the other rooms your friends were staying in, and how they were all kid themed. Now that you think about it; it really did seem like whoever last lived in the house left in a hurry. It almost seemed like they hadn’t taken anything with them.

Maybe now you were starting to see why.

“If memory serves, they bought another house closer to the city and moved there. They still own the one you’re staying in… they couldn’t find anyone to move into it, so now they rent it out… a mistake if you ask me.” The old woman informs you bitterly. “Bad things have happened at that place. Nothing ever good came from the other tourists staying in it.”

“Other tourists?” you pipe up, confused. “The site I was using to book made it look like the listing had only been up for a few weeks at most. It didn’t have any reviews or anything.”

The older lady only shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter my dear. Take your friends and find another place to stay. Get out of that house. Take it from me, It’s not worth it.”

Her tone let’s you know the conversation is over. You leave the shop without another word. Feeling lost and overwhelmed from what you discovered. You grip tightens around the handles of the bag as you make your way back to the house, determined not to let what the woman said bother you.

All the while, all you can think about is the pair of cold blue eyes from the other night in your minds eye, staring into your soul, and a part of you can’t help but wonder if there’s some truth to what the older woman told you.

By the time you get back to the house your friends are gone.

A note on the kitchen counter from your best friend lets you know that your other two friends had gotten impatient, and wanted to do some exploring on their own. She writes that she left some lunch for you in the fridge, and that if you needed anything to text her.

You can’t really blame them for wanting to go out and do their own thing, after all, your errand had taken you longer than you thought it would have, and after everything you’d heard, you just wat to relax for a little bit.

You set the rest of your belongings down and make your way upstairs to the room at the end of the hallway. You stand in front of the sliding door for a moment, almost expecting to feel the familiar, burning sensation from before, but nothing happens, allowing you to breathe a sigh of relief and, enter the dark room.

You set your bags down and pull out the new frame you’d picked up, before making your way over to the home shrine. You open the doors slowly and pull out the old picture of the snowy-haired boy. You smile sadly down at it as you slip the worn paper securely in between the wooden slates.

“Sorry Touya. I don’t know what caused the fire, but you didn’t deserve to die like that.”

A sudden wave of exhaustion rolls over you and you stumble backwards slightly. Maybe you were more tired than you originally thought. You think to yourself as you stumble over the to the small bed and collapse down onto it, ignoring your makeshift pile of blankets and pillows you used the night before, as your eyes slowly slide shut.

The last thing you remember seeing before your eyes closed completely was a hazy-looking figure standing in one o the dark corners adjacent to the bed.

-----

Dabi snorts as he watches your eyes close.

Humans are such simple creatures; a mere fraction of his power could send even the strongest-willed ones into the deepest slumber, or curse them with everlasting nightmares if he so chose.

He would know, he’s done it so many times in the past, it’s hardly fun for him anymore.

Once he’s sure you’re not going to wake up, he glides over soundlessly to stare down at your prone form. Originally, he’d planned to kill you after you disrespected his shrine, but the look of horror on your face after he’d partially revealed himself to you, made him reconsider. It’d been so long since he’d seen fear look so delicious on someone – the sadist in him wanted to see more of it.

He told himself he was letting you live because you’d seemed remorseful enough after you’d shattered his picture, and he wanted to see what you’d do to fix the mess you’d created. You hadn’t disappointed him at least – you’d gone out and bought another frame to relace the one you’d broken, just as he heard you say you would. He was still mildly pissed off, but he figured he’d let you live for a little while longer.

At least you were… pretty. He mused to himself as he peered down at you. You had better manners then most of the other tourists who had been brave enough to stay at the house in the past, despite its history with the locals. Many had seen his shrine, and had been stupid enough to go poking around in places where they shouldn’t have, and he couldn’t have that.

Most people didn’t tend to make it past the first night.

Dabi snickers to himself as he backs away from you, allowing his body to turn to smoke once more, just as he hears the tell-tale sounds of your friends re-entering the house from the ground floor.

He wasn’t sure what had possessed you and your friends to stay at the house, but it had been a long time since he last had visitors. He thought he’d done a decent enough job scaring everyone away after the last batch of moronic tourists had come through, but clearly that wasn’t the case.

He’d watch you and your friends for a little while longer before he made himself known, he decided, as he left you alone to wake up slowly.

For now, he was content to sit back and observe. But he’d be out to play very soon.

-----

You wake up to the room smelling faintly of smoke.

You sit up with a groan and hold your head in your hands as you gain your bearings. You couldn’t even remember falling asleep, which was strange, considering you didn’t think you’d been out for very long. A quick glance at your phone confirms your suspicions, leaving you even more confused by what happened, until the sounds of your friend’s laughing downstairs catches your attention.

You stand up too quickly and stumble slightly as the light smell of smoke invades your nose again, making it crinkle.

What the hell? You didn’t remember the room being smokey before you passed out.

You look around the small room, trying to find the source of the smell, but your search turns up nothing, puzzling you further, until something the shop woman said earlier comes to mind:

Strange things started happening around the house; rooms would smell of smoke even though no one had been burning anything.

You fight down a laugh that tries to force its way out of your mouth. There was no way the house was haunted, even if the woman you spoke to earlier seemed convinced that it was. Obviously, the last owners of the house had suffered a terrible tragedy with the death of their eldest son, but that didn’t mean that the house itself was haunted. Even the oddities from the night before weren’t enough to truly convince you of that. You could chalk all of it up to you being overtired, which was probably exactly what it was.

The sounds of your friends from the first floor pulls you back to the present, and you make your way downstairs, suddenly grateful for the extra company. You enter the living room and are greeted with the sight of your friends gathered around the seated table in the middle of the room. They wave you over and you sit with them as they tell you about what they did while they were out.

“So, were you able to find a new frame?” your best friend asks you once there’s a lull in the conversation. You nod.

“Yeah, I got one. You’ll never believe what I found out about the house though.”

Your best friend quirks a brow at you, prompting you to continue, and you snicker as you rest your head in your hands. “I spoke to a local earlier. They seem to think this place is haunted.”

“Oh?” you friend asks you from across the table. “What brought them to that conclusion? Nothing weird has happened since we got here.”

“Well, I found out a little bit about the people who lived in the house previously.” You tell her, pointing upwards. “They had four kids, which is why all the rooms upstairs look like they belong to young children, but the eldest died in some sort of forest fire.” You frown slightly as the image of the white-haired boy crosses your mind. “I’m staying in his old room.”

“That’s fucked up.” Your other friend mutters, hugging her legs close to herself. “So what? He’s like… haunting the place or something?”

“I’m not sure.” You admit. “The person I spoke to didn’t say that specifically. Apparently, some weird things started happening after he died, and it drove the mom crazy or something to that effect. They moved out not long after that, but I don’t fully believe the place is haunted. It sounds like there was a lot of personal issues with the family, and that might have had something to do with it.”

“You think the website might have disclosed something like that.” Your best friend interjects quietly, pulling out her phone. “That’s… a lot.”

“Apparently it happened over ten years ago, so it wasn’t recent.” You tell her with a frustrated sigh. “What I’m more interested in, is why the listing didn’t have any reviews on it. According to the person I talked to, the original family rents out the house, and has been doing so for a number of years. When I was booking it for us, the website made it seem like this place was brand new – that no one had stayed in it yet. But it sounds like that’s not the case.”

“Maybe it really is haunted.” Your friend grins, kicking you under the table. You’re about to swat her back, before your best friend’s quiet voice stops you.

“I think you guys need to take a look at this.” She tells you softly, beckoning you all over as she points down at her phone screen. She holds it up, and you can see she’s done a quick search of the house by address. You feel your heart sink as you read the first three web articles that come up in the search:

Three Tourists Found Dead In Japanese Home.

Swedish Couple Found Burnt In Japanese Mansion.

Fraternity Party Gone Wrong As Massive Fire Erupts in Backyard—

You can’t bring yourself to read the rest of the internet searches, and to your horror, it just keeps going. Your friends are just as mortified, if the looks on their faces have anything to say about it.

“What the fuck.” You friend breaths as she shoots you an almost accusatory look. “You didn’t know about this?”

“No! Of course not!” you snap back at her. “If I’d known this was H.H. Holmes house of horrors 2.0, I wouldn’t have booked this place!”

“Well, that explains why it’s so cheap.” Your other friend mutters under her breath, but you can’t bring yourself to care, still too in shock over what you’re reading to come up with a response.

“It’s not her fault!” your best friend cuts in, before either of your friends can say anything else. “If houses are on a booking website for anyone to look at, then they should’ve passed some kind of safety inspection beforehand. How this one was able to be listed with this kind of rap sheet is beyond me, but getting angry about it won’t solve anything.” She turns towards you. “I know you’ve already pre-paid for the house, but would you be open to finding another place to stay for the remainder of the trip?”

“Fine by me.” You mutter. “We’re going to have to stay here until something else comes up though. None of us have the funds on-hand to stay more than several days in a hotel.”

“That’s fine. We’ll figure something out.” You best friend soothes, squeezing you hand. “In the meantime, would anyone like to play a game? Getting overly stressed out about the house isn’t going to solve anything.”

“I’m good.” You mutter, standing up from the table. “Actually, I think I’m going to go lie down. Sorry guys.”

Your friends don’t protest as you leave the room, still in a daze from what you discovered about the house. Suddenly, you would’ve much rather preferred if it was haunted, because in actuality, it was so much worse than what you initially thought.

Screw spirits, this place was a modern-day mass murder site.

As you climb the stairs to the second floor, you’re suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling of being watched. You glance down the hallway nervously from your perch on the last step, half expecting to see something waiting for you at the end of the corridor, only to be greeted with the sight of an empty walkway. Even with the reassurance that nothing seemed to be upstairs with you, you can’t shake the feeling that your every movement being monitored.

With bated breath, you slowly peek your head into each child-themed room as you silently make your way down the hall towards your room, but to your relief (and almost slight disappointment), you don’t see anything in the rooms aside from your friend’s luggage. Despite the reassurance, you still feel eyes following your every movement.

The feeling only gets worse as you near your room, and you feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up as a sweltering heat suddenly manifests behind you. You don’t know what’s causing it, but any doubts you had about the house possibly being haunted, vanish as you quickly become aware of a presence that wasn’t there before:

There’s something standing behind you. You’re sure of it.

You don’t dare turn around to find out what it is. You fling the sliding door to your room open and slam it shut behind you in one fluid motion without turning around to see what’s behind you. You foolishly thought that you’d feel better once you were out of the hallway, but as soon as you take a step into the room, you’re suddenly aware of how hot the room is.

The still air is sweltering, almost burning – the heat is so intense, it nearly knocks you over as it causes a fresh sheen of sweat to glisten on your brow. You have no idea why the small bedroom is so warm when you know it wasn’t like this when you were in it last. The small thermostat mounted on the far wall only confuses you further, as it shows a cooler temperature then what you’re currently experiencing. At first you think maybe it’s broken, but after playing around with it for a few minutes, you determine that it’s working fine as you dab at your forehead.

Then you feel it again: something is watching you.

Before you can even think to turn around, the glaring blue eyes from the night before flash across your field of vision. You let out a startled yelp before you can stop yourself, as the angry turquoise irises pin you to the spot. Strangely enough, they don’t disappear as quickly as they did the first time, allowing you to get a better look at them.

They have to be the most infuriated set of eyes you’ve ever seen. They’re narrowed in clear distrust, and heavily lidded. The skin under them looks darkened and gnarled, as if it’s been charred, and yet, you can’t help but think they’re the most stunning shade of blue you’ve ever seen.

For some reason, you think you’ve seen them somewhere before.

Almost as if they can sense your shift in thought, the eyes blink, and then they’re gone, leaving you reeling in shock. This time, you know you’re not hallucinating. What you experienced was very much real.

At this point you’re so bewildered, you throw caution to the wind and scour the room, looking for the eyes again. You check under the bed, and in the closet, you even open up the window and stick your head outside to see if someone is out there, but your search turns up nothing, leaving you stumped. All the while, the feeling of being watched becomes increasingly worse, to the point you feel like you’re going to throw up if you stay in the bedroom one second longer.

The room is so suffocating, you end up changing in the bathroom next to the master bedroom, and the feeling is only marginally better as you do your nightly routine. By the time you finish, you’re dreading going back into the bedroom, afraid of what might be waiting for you inside. Your friends are still downstairs, and you contemplate grabbing one of them to help you sweep the room one last time before you try and go to sleep, but you don’t want to bother them, and you have the feeling that they don’t want to talk to you right now anyways.

Sucking in a sharp breath, you steel your nerves and force the door open again, half expecting to see someone standing directly on the other side of the door, but the room is void of any other human life aside from you.

The temperature has gone back down to normal; you note, as you close the door behind you again, and to your relief, you no longer feel like something is watching you. The room is exactly how it was when you woke up this morning, with no indicators that something was ever wrong in the first place.

I must be losing my mind. You think to yourself as you slowly sink back down onto your makeshift bed on the floor, but a small part of you doesn’t think that you are. You know for a fact something was behind you in the hallway. You’re not sure what it was, but you know something was there.

And you know that you weren’t imagining those eyes either.

As you lay on the pillows and wait for sleep to take you under, you glance at the dark butsudan in the corner. You don’t know what possesses you to say it, but you sigh under your breath as you turn over onto your side so you’re facing the dark cabinet.

“Good night Touya.”

You’re certainly not expecting a response, but you realize with a jolt how quiet the room has suddenly become. You can’t even hear the dull hum of the air conditioner anymore as you slowly look around the dark expanse of the room.

You re-direct your attention to the dark cabinet, when realization suddenly hits you full force. You slowly peel off your blanket and make your way towards the doors. Opening them gently, you’re greeted with the familiar sight of the photograph of the snowy-haired child, frozen forever in time.

You kneel down until you’re eye-level with the picture of the boy. Your eyes trace over his delicate features, taking in the fullness of his cheeks and the soft looking texture of his hair, but you’re hyper-focused on his eyes, more specifically, the particular shade of them. Sure enough, they’re the same piercing blue as the ones from earlier.

“What the fuck?” you breathe, as you lean in for a closer look. “What the hell is going on here—”

“More then you know.”

Your eyes widen impossibly at the sound of the raspy voice behind you. Before you can even think to scream for help, the feeling of immense fatigue washes over you like a tidal wave, rendering you senseless.

You feel your eyes grow heavy, and roll back against your will no matter how hard you struggle to keep them open. You feel yourself pitch back into unfamiliar arms, and the last thing you remember seeing before you pass out completely, is the metal glint of staples and the same burning eyes staring back down at you from the picture of the small boy.

-----

Dabi catches you before you can hit the floor.

He doesn’t bother concealing himself as he watches the consciousness leave your eyes before they dip closed, knowing that you saw him, or at least, what’s left of him.

He scoops you up and deposits you on his old bed, staring down at you for a moment longer then necessary, before leaving you alone to sleep off his influence.

He allows himself to fade out before reappearing in the gardens just outside the living room, where he can hear your friends talking amongst themselves without a care in the world – completely oblivious to his presence.

He snorts to himself. He’d fix that soon. Playtime was over, and he was getting bored.

A bored Dabi was a vicious one.

He’d wait until they went to bed before making himself known. It would give him time to figure out what he wanted to do with you in the meantime.

It was a little ridiculous, honestly. Normally he had no qualms about killing anyone who stepped foot in his house – the long list of people who he’d killed in and around the property was a testament to that – but he had some reservations with you.

You, the first person who had managed to capture his attention since he had become what he is now.

He’s not sure what exactly drew him to you. Maybe it was your kind disposition, maybe it was because he didn’t find you as annoying or clueless as your idiotic friends, or maybe it was because out of all of the people who had come through the house, you were the only one who had bothered to show some shred of respect to his burial shrine, or even bother to learn his past name. Regardless, he could say with certainty that ever since he turned into this, he had never taken in interest in someone as much as he had you.

He’s still not even sure what he is exactly. He’s not dead, though his outward appearance might suggest otherwise. His body – as damaged as it is – is still very much solid, and he still ages, though seemingly at a slower rate than before. He’s not the same thirteen-year-old boy as he was when he was incinerated. He’s older now, roughly in his mid to late twenties, just like he would’ve been if he were still alive. A demon is more accurate term to describe what he is; since he’s able to exist in the physical world, and incinerate his victims, turning them into little more than piles of ash. Ironic, the powers he came back with where the same ones that killed him in the first place.

Dabi glances down at his arms, taking in the sight of his scorched, mangled skin, held together by what little of his healthy skin remained with surgical staples, before chuckling to himself as he notes his macabre reflection in a passing window.

He didn’t always look like this: a walking corpse with an appetite for destruction and death. Ever since he burned up, this reality has been his life now. But he’s not really living, is he? He’s not dead, but he’s not exactly alive either. He exists somewhere in between both planes of Earth and Hell.

Touya was dead, but Dabi is very much alive, at least, he thinks so. All it took was for his past self to die – turned to ash and scattered into the wind. At least, that’s what his family thinks happened to him. In actuality, what really happened was far more gruesome. The memory almost makes him smile.

The fire was hot. He remembers that vividly. He hadn’t meant to set Sekoto on fire, he really hadn’t. He’d gone for a walk to escape from his hellish household for a while – The neglect from his father had been getting to him more than normal, so he had gone deep into the forest behind his house to escape for a little while. The air had been dry and the lighter he forgot he had in his pocket had fallen out, igniting the forest around him faster then he could put it out.

He should’ve died. This much he knows, but for some reason, he didn’t. Despite it all, he lived. He’s not exactly sure how much time passed from when the flames completely engulfed him to when he regained consciousness, but what he does know is that when he woke up again, he was this… thing. Half alive, half dead, and full of rage and pure fire.

By the time he’d made it back to the house, it was apparent that quite some time had passed, and his family believed him to be dead. They had moved on without him, but the most horrifying realization of all was even though he was gone, nothing had changed in his absence.

His father was still a bastard, and his mother and siblings were still sheep as far as he was concerned.

And that simply wouldn’t do.

From then on, he terrorized the house. At first, he was content to simply scare his family; standing in the corners of his sibling’s rooms while they tried to sleep, purposely letting them see him in all of his nightmarish glory, to making things go bump in the night to keep his parents always on edge, never letting them sleep or know a moments peace.

When his father demanded they ignore what was happening (despite the terrified claims of his siblings), he kicked it up a notch.

He started set things on fire randomly, taking sick delight in the panicked screams of his mother and siblings, and the look of dread on his father’s face. He’d destroy the house while his family was out, carving twisted messages on the walls to let them know he was there, cackling as their collective will to try and ignore what was happening began to waver. Finally, when that got boring: he started physically lashing out.

That they couldn’t ignore.

He often targeted his youngest brother, Shoto. Not only because he was his father’s favourite (and his replacement), but because he often made it too easy for him.

When he had gouged deep, red lines into his brother’s back for the umpteenth time, it had sent his mother over the edge. She broke – either from the stress caused by his father and her terrified children, or the lack of sleep – and had scalded Shoto’s face, burning him to the point it couldn’t be hidden, much to his glee.

She was carted off to an institution shortly afterwards, and his father had packed up his siblings and left the house not long after that, never to return.

The house had sat vacant for a while, leaving him to roam about its halls freely, and even though people occasionally came to see the mansion from time to time with the intention of buying it, they never ended up staying long, as he’d always find a way to chase them off, further souring the manor’s reputation.

For a long time, no one had come to the house, and he had eventually drifted off to sleep in the welcoming darkness, only to be awoken again after an uncertain amount of time by random strangers in his house. From them, he discovered when his father hadn’t been able to sell the estate due to its less than stellar reputation, he had decided to rent it out as a guest house in an attempt to bury the truth about what happened all those years ago.

The thought infuriated him.

His father might have been content to try and forget about him, but Dabi was more spiteful then Touya had ever been. Dabi always remembered and never forgave.

If he couldn’t take his rage out directly on his father… then the cannon folder he sent willingly into the house would have to do.

From then on, he made it his personal mission to burn everything and everyone who set foot in the house, if only so word could get back to his father to let him know that he was still here and still pissed.

He’s not sure how the old man does it, but every time he ends up killing someone who’s stupid enough to rent out the house despite its reputation, his father is somehow able to cover it up. He’s killed well over thirty people at this point (though he stopped counting after thirty-two), and yet they still keep coming – though less frequently than before.

Perhaps it’s his old man’s way of atoning: by sending unaware people into the house so he can take his wrath out on them instead of him. There’s no way his father doesn’t know it’s him by now. He simply doesn’t want to face the monster he created, and is more then content to let other people suffer in his place instead. He always was a coward like that.

His good for nothing father… the reason he’s like this in the first place—

Dabi hisses irritably to himself. Best not to think about him. It only made him even more homicidal than he already was.

He allows himself to turn to smoke once more, and mist back into the house so he can keep a closer eye on your friends. He watches as they head off to bed, stalking them from the shadows as they settle down in his siblings’ old rooms for the night, but there would be no sleeping for them tonight, he would make sure of that.

Tonight, he wanted to have a little fun – to shatter the fragile illusion of peace they had created.

Once he’s sure that your friends are mostly asleep, he slithers into the room of the friend who had been so rude to you earlier. He looms over her prone from with a sick grin plastered across his face.

Time to let them know they weren’t alone in the house as they thought.

-----

You wake to the sound of blood-curdling screams echoing from down the hall.

It takes your sleep-addled brain a moment to realize that it’s coming from the room your friend claimed as her own, but the moment you do, you’re up and all but running down the hall to the room as her terrified screams get louder and louder.

You call out her name desperately as you stumble into the dark room, flicking on the light as your tired eyes find her thrashing form hopelessly tangled in the sheets on the twin sized mattress. You rip the blankets off of her, calling her name, only to realize her eyes are still tightly shut, but her hands are grabbing at her back, as if she’s in pain.

You shake her awake violently and her eyes fly open just as your other friends rush into the room behind you. Your friend’s mouth twists open into another scream as she grasps at her back, wailing as she begins to sob unconsolably.

“The man! The man! Did you see him?” She wails as she writhes on the mattress, clawing at the back of her sleep shirt.

“What man? What are you talking about?” You ask her as you desperately try to calm her down while she continues to sob.

“How can you not see him?” she cries unconsolably. “He was there, he was right there!” she points to the spot where you’re currently kneeling, still in tears. You look around the small space, but aside from you and your friends, there’s no one else in the room with you. You shoot a bewildered look at your friends who are still crowding the door frame, and they return the look.

“Sweetheart, there’s no one else here.” Your best friend tries to sooth her as she slowly makes her way over to where you’re sitting, and kneels down beside you at the foot of the bed. “You just had a nightmare, that’s all.”

“No, he was real, he was there, I saw him!” your friend bursts into a fresh wave of tears as she curls into a ball. “He was there, just standing over me with that horrible grin on his face. Oh god, his face!”

“What did he look like?” you press. “No one else has come in or out of the house aside from us! We would’ve noticed if someone else was here!” The words sound hollow, even to you. You can’t help but think of the rough voice you heard earlier before you passed out, and for some reason the unsettling blue eyes from the last two days haunt your thoughts.

Your fears are only confirmed as your friend manages to choke out: “He had burns all over his face and arms… and his eyes… they were so blue… so, so blue.”

You’re frozen in place, unable to speak, as your friend finally manages to pull her sleep shirt up, exposing her back. “That’s not all he did… he—he clawed me. He clawed my back. It hurts so fucking bad…”

You peer at her back and feel faint as you take in the sight of five angry red lines running from the top of her back, all the way down to the end of her ribs. The cuts are deep, and some of the marks are slowly oozing blood, as your friend continues to cry.

“What the fuck.” You hear your other friend breathe, as she finally makes her way over so she can get a closer look at the marks. “Are… are you sure you didn’t just scratch yourself in your sleep?”

“There’s no way she did this to herself.” You mutter as you touch the worst of the marks, feeling your friend flinch under your touch, and muttering a quiet apology to her. “They’re too deep to be self-inflicted. She would’ve woken herself up. Something did this to her.”

“What then?” your other friend groans as you retract your hand and pull your still sobbing friend’s shirt back down.

“I don’t know!” you snap. “A fucking ghost from the sounds of it.”

“It was the man… the burned man.” Your friend mumbles as her tears finally begin to slow. “He’s real, he was there, I saw him!”

“Well, whatever he is, he’s not here now.” you mutter, wearily looking around the room. “C’mon. We gotta get you cleaned up. You can sleep with one of us, we’ll bring your stuff with you.”

“I’m not sleeping in your room. Not with that thing in there.” Your friend whimpers as your best friend helps her up slowly.

She means the butsudan. You don’t blame her for that one. It is pretty unsettling in the dark.

“She can sleep with me.” Your best friend offers gently as she helps your friend to stand. She gives you and your other friend a pointed look as she slowly ushers your still crying friend out of the room. “Keep an eye out for anything strange. If what she’s saying is true, then we might not be alone in the house.”

“Yeah, sure.” Your friend mutters sullenly beside you as both girls leave the room to go back to your best friend’s room. As soon as they’re out of sight she gives you a pointed look. “Still think this place isn’t haunted?”

“I don’t know.” You breathe quietly, as you look around the room one last time. “I seriously don’t know.”

None of you end up sleeping through the night.

The incident with your friend set you all on edge, the slightest sounds in the house would wake you up in a panic, looking around for some unseen intruder – only to see nothing, but still feel like there were eyes watching you from somewhere, though you couldn’t pin point where from.

Your friends didn’t fair much better either, and by the time the first rays of morning sun peaked through the cracks in the blinds, you were already up and so were they.

Breakfast is a quiet affaire. None of you slept much after your friend was attacked, and the bags residing under all of your eyes are telling. Your friend barely says two words the whole time, absentmindedly stirring her tea while lightly touching her back. Your best friend had done her best to clean up the wounds and bandage it, but you could tell it was still bothering her.

You don’t even know what to say to her. You don’t know what to say to any of your friends. Do you tell them about what’s been happening to you the last several days? Do you stay silent in order not to worry them any further? You don’t know what to do.

Thankfully, you don’t have to say anything, because your best friend breaks the silence.

“I think we need to discuss what happened last night.” She says quietly but firmly. She gestures to your still silent friend. “Something attacked her last night. I don’t know what exactly, but I don’t think this place is safe to stay in anymore. We were deceived and lied to, and I think it’s best if we find another place to spend the rest of our trip.”

“I agree. You other friend mutters next to you. “I didn’t sleep at all last night. I kept hearing you guys whispering and playing on your phones all night long.”

Your brows furrow as you turn to her. “I wasn’t on my phone, and I sure as hell wasn’t whispering to anyone last night, I was by myself.”

She glances back at you, almost as if she doesn’t believe you, before she sends a questioning look at your best friend who also shakes her head, gesturing between her and you friend who has yet to say a word. “We weren’t on our phones either. We were cuddling the whole night, but we weren’t talking.”

“Are you sure?” you friend presses harshly. “I kept hearing things last night. It didn’t really sound like any of you, but it was really distorted and muffled so I couldn’t be sure. I thought you playing on your phones or something.”

“After what happened, no. I wanted to be as alert as possible.” You tell her sincerely. “I don’t think any of us slept after that.”

“What the hell…” you friend mutters, rubbing at her temples. “I definitely heard voices last night. I don’t know what they were saying, but they didn’t seem happy—“

A sudden sound of shattering glass from upstairs stops what she was saying, causing all four of you to stop and look at each other with wide eyes. Your friend who was clawed suddenly bursts into tears, and hugs her knees to her chest. “Fuck this, I don’t like it here! I wanna leave!”

“We will!” you assure her as you slowly get up from your chair. “Screw this place. We’ll stay in a hotel if we have to, and then we can figure something else out from there.”

“Where are you going?” you best friend asks as you slowly make your way towards the stairs.

“We have to get our things. We can’t just ditch everything here; our passports are upstairs.” You try to reason with her as she follows you to the base of the stairs. “You three wait down here, I’ll go see what that sound was and I’ll get our things together.”

Your best friend looks like she’s about to offer to come with you, but you shake your head before she can, and purposely lower your voice as she comes closer to you.

“I think it’s better if you stay down here and keep them calm.” You murmur to her as you quietly admit; “Some weird things have been happening to me since we came here too, but I haven’t been physically attacked. It’s probably better if only one of us goes. If I need you. I’ll call.”

Your best friend opens her mouth like she’s going to argue with you, but the look you give her makes her relent. She sighs. “I’ll give you five minutes to grab the important stuff, then we gotta go. I don’t like the feeling I’m getting from this place now… it’s… oppressive.”

You know what she means, but you don’t comment on it. Instead, you slowly make your way up the wooden steps and onto the second floor.

It’s eerily silent. Too quiet for it to be considered normal, especially after hearing something breaking. Despite how still the upstairs floor appears to be, the air is charged, almost electric with how much energy is coursing through the air around you. Your best friend was right: it is oppressive up here, more so now than before, and you don’t like the shift in energy.

Holding your breath, you creep through the hallway towards the bathroom, the only place you can think of that has glass in it. You don’t stop to peer into each of the bedrooms – too scared of what you might be staring back at you – until you’re finally in front of the bathroom door. You push it open gingerly, only to gasp at what awaits you inside.

The large mirror that was previously mounted above the vanity is cracked beyond repair. Large pieces of glass have fallen into the sink, while others are scattered around the counter or on the floor near it. It almost looks like someone punched the glass by how it’s shattered, but you don’t see how that’s possible.

Forgetting your pervious hesitation, you make your way into the bathroom to investigate the damage. You squat down and pick up a large piece of glass near you as you hold it up to your face, and that’s when you see it…

No, not it. Him.

Towering behind you is a man. He’s dressed in tattered black clothing from head to toe, save for an ash-stained white t-shirt. His inky black spikes give him the impression of being covered in soot, or having freshly walked out of some dark abyss, but what stands out most to you about his startling appearance, are the scars.

He’s covered in gnarled, wine-tainted skin, from under his eyes, to his lower jaw, and down his neck from what you’re able to see peeking out from underneath his clothes. The damaged skin is angry and inflamed, held onto what remains of his pale, healthy skin by jarring surgical staples. The silver rings look like they were harshly dug into his mottled skin in a futile attempt to keep him together, and you can’t help but wonder if they hurt him, seeing how many he has decorating his patchwork skin.

You gasp as you whip yourself around on your hunches, tossing the broken piece of mirror away from you in your panic, as you scoot backwards until your back hits the opposite wall. Bits of stray glass dig into your palms but you don’t dare take your eyes off the stranger.

He grins wickedly at your terror – showcasing white teeth too sharp to be considered normal – as your eyes slowly make their way up his body to rest on his. Your breath hitches as you find yourself staring up into electric blue eyes – the very same ones that had been haunting you since you arrived.

You open your mouth to scream – whether for help, or to warn your friends of the man – before the disturbing smile slips off the man’s face momentarily as he growls at you, “Quiet.”

You feel lightheaded as you hear him speak for the first time. You recognize his voice too. It was the same voice from before you suddenly passed out yesterday. Just how long had he been in the house with you and your friends? Who was he?

Despite your mounting panic, you nod slowly, not wanting to piss the strange man off further, and he rewards you with a small nod, the unnerving smile returning to his face as he stares you down.

He holds a finger up to his two-toned lips. “Shh.” He tells you through a grin. “Not a sound, or I’ll burn this fucking house to the ground with you and your friends in it.”

You shake your head frantically, torn between wanting to beg him to spare your friends and you, but not wanting him to act on his promise. Once he’s content you’re not going to scream, he straightens up slightly and takes a slow step towards you, his massive black combat boots crunching the glass underneath it ominously, until he’s directly in front of your trembling form.

He bends down so you’re eye-level with each other and reaches down with one freakishly warm hand, tilting your chin up so you’re looking him directly in his blazing azure irises. “Do you know who I am?”

You shake your head as much as you can without him digging his fingers into your skin.

He snorts. “Figures. Why don’t you take a closer look? You’ve seen me before.”

You have no idea what he means, but you hesitantly looking up into his face again. You scan it closely, all the while the man doesn’t remove his fingers from under your chin, keeping your head in place as he allows you to examine him. Now that you have a closer look at him, you can see three studs on one side of his nose and several other cartilage piercings lining his burnt ears, as well as the staples holding the scorched skin under his eyes together and the burns lining his lower jaw.

The longer you gaze at him, the more you start to realize that he’s right, you have seen him before. He’s older now, his hair is onyx instead of white, and his features have changed drastically, but his eyes… his eyes haven’t changed from the old photo of him in his shrine—

“Touya.” You breath, causing a smirk to grace the man’s scarred lips.

“There you go.” He rumbles, tapping your cheek once before straightening back up, finally releasing you from his scorching grip.

“How?” you whisper, as you reach up to touch your skin., still feeling the searing imprints of where his fingers were on you. “You… you’re dead… you died—”

“No.” the scarred man shakes his head. “Touya died, but Dabi is still very much alive.”

The bathroom suddenly heats up all around you like a sauna, making you flinch at the sudden change in temperature. You peer at him, taking in his deranged appearance. “You’re not human… are you?”

Dabi only grins wider. “No.”

“Then what are you?” you whisper, dreading the answer, but needing to know.

The raven-haired man’s smile pulls at the staples near his mouth. He opens his mouth to answer you, only to be interrupted by the sounds of frantic pounding on the bathroom door.

“Are you in there?” you hear you best friend call out from the other side of the door. “You’re taking way too long! What are you doing?”

“No! Don’t come in! He’s in here” you scream before realizing your mistake. You slap your hand over your mouth, eyes like saucers, as a threatening snarl rips its way out of Touya—no, Dabi’s throat, as he turns to face the door.

“What are you talking about? Who’s in there?” your best friend yells back. You watch helplessly as the doorknob shakes. “Unlock the door!”

Dabi watches the doorknob rattle some more, before casting a careless look over his shoulder at you. “Your friends are pretty annoying.” He rasps, eyes suddenly cold as ice. “I think I’ve tolerated them enough. You’re lucky I view you differently. Otherwise, you’d end up the same as what they’re going to be.”

“Stop it! What do you mean? What are you going to do to them?” You sob, completely frozen in your terror, but to your horror he only smirks as one of his scarred hands suddenly erupts into bright blue flames.

Your tears dry in your eyes as you watch the azure flames lick up his flesh and tattered clothing. The cries of your best friend, and the pounding on the door fade away into background noise as your brain struggles to make sense of what you’re seeing.

“You wanna know what I am?” Dabi rumbles, eyes glinting meanly as he takes in your shaking form. “Here’s your chance.”

“No don’t hurt them!” you wail, as you bolt to your feet. You leap towards him in a desperate attempt to stop him, only to collide into the sink. You look around the small bathroom frantically, but the man—no, the demon is gone. You don’t get to ponder how that’s possible, before you hear a scream from other side of the door. You instantly recognize the cry belonging to your best friend, and you feel your blood turn to ice in your veins at her panicked screams because she sounds absolutely terrified.

You fling yourself towards the door and grasp the handle, jiggling it frantically, before you realize you’re locked in the bathroom from the outside. You pound on the bathroom door, calling out for your best friend to run, but your voice is drowned out by the sound of roaring flames from outside of the door. You feel the wood heat up to insane levels under your palms, and it takes you a moment to realize you can’t hear your best friend outside the door any more.

You quickly devolve into hysterical sobs, sinking to the bathroom floor, as you slow, methodical foot-steps walk past the door and down the stairs. You swear you hear the faint screams of your two other friends’ downstairs, but they fall silent all too soon as well.

You don’t know how long you’re stuck in the bathroom for, but eventually, you hear a click from the bathroom handle, signaling that the door had somehow unlocked itself. You slowly push yourself to your feet and shakily open the door, only to let out a blood-curling scream at the sight that awaits you out in the hall.

The hallway is a mess. The walls are blackened, and look like they’ve been ravaged by fire. The air is thick and smoky, making you gag on the ash that floats through the air like gray snow, but the true horror is what lies just outside the bathroom door.

There is a corpse a foot away from the bathroom and you already know it’s your best friend as you take in what’s left of her. She’s burnt so badly that you can barely make out any distinguishable features, much to your horror, but you know it’s her. You rip your eyes away from her as you reach violently – you can’t bring yourself to look at her any longer otherwise you’ll lose what little of your sanity remains. For some reason you suddenly remember what she told you about the other people who’d stayed in the house before you and your friends had arrived – how they had met violent, fiery ends themselves – and you know she befell the same fate as them.

You hadn’t understood how it had been possible at the time. Now you understood all too well.

You don’t even have time to properly morn her, before it occurs to you that you left your other friends’ downstairs, and you don’t know where they are. You choke broken apologies to your dear friend as you stagger away from her, knowing there isn’t anything you can do for her now, and force your legs to descend the stairs, dreading what awaits you on the lower level of the house.

The downstairs hasn’t fared much better. The air is stagnant and a thick haze of smoke rolls overhead, followed by the potent smell of burnt flesh. The smell gets worse the closer you come to the kitchen, and a fresh wave of tears stings your eyes as you peer overtop of the counter, only to come face to face with two other freshly charred corpses on the other side of it. Just like that, any hope you had of your other friends making it out of the house are shattered, and you know that your friends are no more.

Your legs give out, and you hit the refrigerator hard as you crumple onto the floor. You whimper and shake as you sob into your palms, barely able to process what the hell happened to your friends. The terrifying thing is, you know what happened – or rather – who happened, and you don’t know what he is or where he is, and that thought petrifies you.

Almost as if he can sense your thoughts; the air around you heats up to concerning levels, and you know the scarred man is standing directly in front of you. You don’t bother looking up, keeping your face buried in your hands as you sob. You don’t see much of a point facing him, you already know what he’s going to do to you. You wait for the searing blue flames he’d shown you in the bathroom to tear you apart, much like it did your friends, but blistering heat never comes.

Instead, you hear the man—Touya, Dabi—you’re not particularly sure what to call him now – huff, before two heated hands slide under your arms and pull you into a standing position much to your protest. You try and push him away, but he only tightens his grip on you as you try and bat at him through your tears.

“You—you killed them.” you sob as you try and dislodge his hold on you. “Why? Why Touya? What did they ever do to you?”

“They were irritating me. They had to go.” The dark-haired man states plainly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Surely you didn’t think that your friend was exaggerating when she showed you my house’s history. I don’t like unwelcome guests. Especially annoying ones.”

“Oh god you killed all those people.” You cry as your mind flashes back to the extensive history your best friend had shown you of the horrid deaths that had occurred on and around the property. You steel your nerves best you can before you dare to ask your next question: “So, you’re going to do the same to me aren’t you?”

Dabi falls silent at your question, and you feel his hold on you shift slightly as his thumbs rub circles onto your arms in what you assume is a feeble attempt at comfort. “No.”

“No?” you echo incredulously through your tears. “What do you mean, no? You had no problems murdering my friends. What makes me any different?”

“I don’t know.” Dabi hums and you see he wears a thoughtful expression on his scarred face as e takes you in. “I don’t know what makes you different from the rest, but you are.”

You don’t bother hiding the shudder that makes it’s way up your spine at his choice of words. You don’t like what he’s implying, and your stomach twists itself into knots when he utters his next words:

“It’s decided. I’m going to keep you. You’re mine.”

You shake your head frantically. “No.”

Dabi smirks meanly. “You don’t have a choice.”

“I don’t belong to you. I’m not going anywhere with you.” You resume your desperate attempt to get out of his bruising hold on you. “Let go of me right now.”

“I don’t think so.” Dabi hisses, smoke pouring out of his mouth, halting your struggle. Your eyes widen impossibly, and the unshed tears in your eyes dry, as you watch the man in front of you start to change before your very eyes.

His haunting blue eyes grow even brighter, and you watch with horror as the part of his chest that isn’t covered by his ash-stained shirt starts to glow a frightening blue – almost as if he’s being lit up from inside his body like some sort of demonic jack-o-lantern. You can visibly see heat-waves vibrate the air around you, as his grip on you becomes white hot, to the point that you can feel your skin of your arms being burned into the shape of his hands. Smoke hisses out of the seams in his face as the pyromaniac pins you to the wall behind you, and suddenly all you see is white.

For a horrible second you think you’ve died – incinerated to nothing but ash – until you blink and realize the dark figure before you is no more. Instead, you find yourself staring at a white-haired man, dressed in a pale, flowing robe, which you faintly recognize as a traditional burial shroud.

For a second, you allow yourself to forget about the atrocities he’s committed. For a brief moment, he is simply Touya again; a small boy who lived and died all too soon. You don’t know how or why he came back as the creature that stands before you, but it doesn’t matter anymore. Touya is dead. All that remains is a damaged husk who wears what’s left of his face.

“What the hell?” you gasp as Dabi leans in close to you, grinning manically as he allows you to get a good look at him. It’s only then that you realize the burns on his face have somehow gotten worse, as well as the ones that mar the visible parts of his body from what you can see under his clothes.

“Do ya get it now?” he rasps, as his eyes adopt a hooded look. “I have powers far beyond what you can imagine. You can’t hope to escape from me, so you might as well accept it and submit to me willingly.”

“I don’t—” whatever you were about to say is cut off as the demon roughly smashes his lips onto yours, effectively silencing you, as he pulls you in.

You’re so disorientated all you can do is let him kiss you. The smell of sulfur that persistently clings to him invades your nose and makes you light-headed. You almost loose your fading grasp of what little remains of your sanity, until the faint smell of burnt meat brings you back to the depressing reality of your situation.

Your friends are dead. Killed by this demon’s wrathful flames. You can’t let him do the same to you. You have to get out of here.

Spurred by pure adrenaline, you kiss him back. You feel Dabi reflexively stiffen at your sudden eagerness, before he lets out a pleased nose at the action. His grip lessens on your arms, and you take your chance.

You wrench your arms out of his abnormally warm hands and shove him back from you. Dabi grunts and his eyes narrow dangerously at you as he registers what happened.

“Don’t you dare—” he starts, but you don’t let him finish his sentence. You bolt to the nearest exit which happens to be the side door that leads out into the backyard. You throw it open and hit the ground running, making a beeline towards the back of the property where the beginning of Sekoto forest starts. You figure if you can get to the woods, you’ll be able to hide and eventually find your way to the surrounding town so you can get help. To your horror, the outside world is pitch black, signaling night has fallen. Just how much time had passed since you’d first encountered the demon--?

A rumbling sound followed by an intense blast of heat and the deafening roar of fire has you turning back towards the mansion, only to scream in horror as you watch it erupt into an inferno of bright blue flames.

You fall backwards just on the edge of Sekoto forest as you watch as the manor is consumed by the blaze, only for your eyes to widen in pure fear as a figure emerges from the flames.

Dabi strolls out of the fire unscathed as if he’s taking a leisurely stroll somewhere, and not walking out of hell itself. His fiery blue irises find your frightened ones, and a slow grin spreads itself across his two-toned lips.

“That was dumb.” He admonishes you. “Do you really think you can escape from me? Just give up now and save yourself the trouble.”

You push yourself back up from off the ground. “No, I’m not going anywhere with you. If you want to take me, you’ll have to kill me first.”

His grin flickers slightly, and an unkind glint enters his eyes as he regards you cooly. “That can be arranged.” He rumbles low in his throat as he stalks towards you, moving faster then you thought possible.

You let out a yelp and book it into the dark woods behind you, running away from the inferno that was once a beautiful home, away from your friends, and away from the demon behind it all.

You hear him laugh once, a curt, sharp noise, as you flee into the dense underbrush.

“Run, little mouse.” He calls after you mockingly. “I will catch you, and once I do, you’re mine.”

You hope he won’t make good on that promise.

-----

Which brings you back to the predicament you currently find yourself in.

You’re still huddled behind the tree, contemplating what to do as you hear Dabi’s raspy voice continue to slowly count down from ten a few feet away from your hiding spot.

At some point you believe he may have set the forest on fire behind him when he entered in an attempt to smoke you out, because the ominous blue glow of his flames seems to be encroaching on your location from all sides, and the smoke in the air is getting progressively thicker, making it harder and harder to breathe.

You have no idea how long you’ve been dodging Dabi in the forest for, but dawn looks no closer to arriving then it did when you first escaped from the house. You don’t bother concealing your sobs as you cry freely, not knowing what to do.

You were trapped. You didn’t see a way out. He had you cornered on all sides, boxing you in.

He had lived up to his promise after all.

You glance up at the canopy of branches above your head, hoping to catch one last look at the stars, but you’re so far into the woods embrace, you can’t see their tiny lights.

You force a watery smile on your lips as you prepare to step out from behind the tree and face the pale haired demon.

At least you’d had a little bit of fun during the first part of your trip. You just wish your friends hadn’t had to die such pointless, painful deaths. They hadn’t deserved that.

You breathe in slowly and take a step out to the side, ready to face Dabi head-on in one last show of defiance, only to realize you don’t hear him counting anymore.

You whip your head around the tree to the spot you’d last heard him, only to discover he’s not there.

Your blood turns to ice in your veins as you recall how quickly he was able to move from one place to another, seemingly vanishing before your eyes, only to reappear in a completely different spot. It’s even more terrifying out in the total darkness of the forest.

The smell of sulfur enters your nose once more, and you turn back around, only to find yourself staring into burning turquoise eyes, surrounded by wine-tinted skin and surgical staples.

You don’t even have time to scream before a searing hand wraps itself around your throat, pinning your back to the tree as you gasp, and claw frantically at the charred skin of his forearm.

“Found you.” Dabi hisses as he leans in, his eyes mocking as he scolds you. “Did you really think you’d be able to escape from me? Sekoto Peak was my playground when I was alive. I know this forest like the back of my hand. You couldn’t possibly hope to escape.”

“G-go to hell.” You sputter out, but he only throws his head back to laugh at your weak insult.

“Been there, done that. Hell doesn’t want me, Doll. They sent me back so I could fuck with my bastard of a father, and the weak, pathetic people he sends to my damn home.”

“So… all those people you killed… and my friends and me.” You wheeze, giving up at trying to dislodge his grip from your throat. What was the point anyways?

Something in his rage filled eyes softens as he regards you quietly. His free hand reaches up to trace one of your cheeks absentmindedly.

“No.” Dabi mutters, almost to himself. “Not you. I don’t know what makes you so different than the others that came before you, but I suppose I have an eternity to figure it out.”

A lone tear rolls down your cheek at his words, and he swipes it away before lessening his grip on your throat slightly so he can lean in to kiss you again.

This time, the kiss isn’t as rough or demanding as the first one It’s not tender, or sweet, but you can tell that for the first time in his life, he’s trying to be gentle. In his own warped way.

When he pulls back, he looks away from you to something behind him. You follow his gaze, and you feel your heart fall into the pit of your stomach as you see a black void materialize itself behind him out of thin air.

You don’t bother asking what it is. You already know.

You start to tremble violently. Dabi spares you an unreadable look as his scorched hand trails down your arm to grasp you hand tightly, his thumb warming circles on the back of your hand.

“You don’t need anyone else.” He tells you as he pulls away from you, not letting go of you hand. “I’ll take care of you from now on. You belong to me, I’ll be the only one you need. I’ll keep you safe.”

“Please don’t do this.” You beg him one more time. Trying to reach out to any remanent of Touya that remained locked away inside of the demon. “You don’t have to do this Touya.”

The white-haired man freezes slightly and spares you a singular glance over his shoulder, and it tells you all you need to know:

Touya is gone. He had been for a long time. All that remains is Dabi, and all he knows how to do is take. There will be no sympathy from him.

“Let’s go home.” He tells you quietly, as he pulls you into the dark void after him.

You regret the day you found that god-forsaken listing.

Breaking News: House Of Horrors Home Burns To The Ground.

Police have deemed blaze suspicious and are still looking for the cause of fire.

Four tourists were staying in the house at the time of arson. All woman in their twenties. So far three bodies have been found and identified. Police are still looking for the fourth woman.

If you have any information about the fire or the whereabouts of the missing woman, please call the non-emergency service number provided below.

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