#coal swamps | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rainforestakiie · 4 months ago

Text

AdamsApple Month Harvest!

Nipple Play~

this is an au i wanted to write for sometime. i was going to use horns and tails, but i have another idea for that! i am a bit tired, so sorry it's a bit shorter then it should be. anyway, hope you all like it!

@adamsappleweek

Lucifer reclined in his seat, his gaze flicking through the case file with a predatory gleam, every detail scrutinized under the rhythmic, irritated tap of his nails against the battered diner table. Across from him sat Adam, his posture practically vibrating with anticipation, his eyes alive with a curious, innocent excitement that Lucifer found maddeningly sweet.

"Centralia, Pennsylvania," Lucifer drawled, his voice rich and laced with amusement as he read aloud. "Abandoned town, evacuated after a coal fire ignited underground in '62. Desolate. Thick with smoke. Dolls littered around like lost souls."

He closed the file with a practiced flick of his wrist and gave a dismissive scoff. "Sounds like the plot of a low-budget horror flick."

Adam's face fell, but his grin held on, stubbornly. "Come on, Luci. You’ve got to admit—it’s chilling. A ghost town with fire still smouldering beneath it, creepy dolls just lying around... even you have to find that intriguing."

Lucifer sighed, his cheek sinking into his palm as he looked out the diner’s fogged window. Outside, shadows curled in the mist, rippling as if they were alive, as the dim light flickered erratically, casting his face in a haunting, spectral glow.

"Tell me again," he said, a hint of reproach in his tone, "Why you didn’t bother mentioning this before we boarded the plane?"

Adam let out a soft laugh, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. "Because if I had told you, you wouldn’t have come. And," he hesitated, a flicker of something almost wistful in his eyes, "I thought you might… enjoy it. Centralia has this heavy silence, like it’s waiting to share some dark secret with you. And who knows? You might feel that sense of… wrongness."

Lucifer raised an eyebrow, his scepticism cutting through Adam’s words. "If this turns out to be anything like that ‘haunted swamp’ in Louisiana, I’m docking your allowance, Adam," he muttered, voice laced with dry amusement.

Adam merely shrugged, waving a dismissive hand. "This is different. Centralia’s scarred in a way you can feel just walking through. Secrets seep into every crack, and it’s not just dolls either. Locals swear sometimes they catch glimpses of… people. Shadows in the fog that vanish as soon as you notice them."

Despite himself, Lucifer felt a twinge of something deep and dark twist in his chest, an emotion both strange and hauntingly familiar. He tried to ignore it, forcing his gaze to Adam's face, only to find himself distracted by the softness of Adam’s smile, the gentle warmth that had somehow worked its way through his defenses.

“Sure,” he said, feigning boredom. “Probably just kids trying to spook tourists like us.” But his words held no weight, and he knew it. Something about Centralia felt… ominous. And for reasons he couldn’t name, that hint of danger intrigued him more than he wanted to admit.

They sat in silence, the air between them heavy and unspoken. The ancient jukebox in the corner crackled to life, crooning a love song that seemed to drift in from another time, filling the diner with a haunted melody that clung to the walls. Lucifer looked down into his coffee, tracing small circles in the dark liquid, feeling its warmth bleed through his fingertips as his heart thrummed with a strange, quiet thrill he couldn't ignore.

And then, Adam’s hand was on his, light and familiar. The warmth of it pulled Lucifer out of his thoughts, grounding him in the smoky chill of Centralia. Adam’s fingers brushed his ever so gently, almost teasingly, before resting there as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“Come on, Lucifer,” Adam murmured, his voice soft, coaxing, the kind of earnestness that made Lucifer’s heart falter despite his best intentions.

Lucifer glanced down at their joined hands, his pulse quickening, and for a moment, he felt his mouth curve in a small, unwilling smile. He pulled his hand away, fingers grazing the warmth of his coffee cup instead.

“Fine,” he sighed, feigning exasperation but failing to mask the hint of a smile pulling at his lips.

Adam’s gaze lingered on him, warm and searching, but if he sensed any more than that, he kept it to himself.

"But I’m holding you personally responsible for every creepy doll, every unexplained shadow, and every sleepless night in this godforsaken town." Lucifer leaned forward, his gaze intense, a glint of challenge dancing in his eyes.

Outside, fog twisted against the diner windows, mist curling around like fingers reaching for the warmth inside. Lucifer glanced toward the glass, feeling the weight of something—or someone—watching them from the shadows. His heart skipped a beat, but as quickly as the sensation came, it faded, leaving him uncertain whether he’d really seen anything at all.

With a sigh, Lucifer stretched, allowing his arms to linger as he yawned, watching Adam with hooded eyes. Adam was beaming at him, eyes bright with excitement. Lucifer smirked, appreciating how Adam’s grin only grew the closer they got to danger.

“Fine. At dawn, we’ll head out to that miserable little town you’re so thrilled about,” he muttered with an air of reluctant resignation.

“But for now, I’m going to unwind in my room before I start regretting letting you talk me into this mess.” He let the word “room” hang in the air, subtly hinting with a playful flicker in his gaze.

Adam just grinned, practically bouncing with enthusiasm. “Good call! We need rest if we’re gonna explore the whole town tomorrow.”

He completely missed Lucifer’s intent, oblivious to the invitation hanging between them. Lucifer watched as Adam scribbled down the room keys he’d booked—two rooms.

Lucifer’s eyes narrowed slightly, though a hint of a smile crept onto his lips despite himself.

“Two rooms, huh?” he murmured, his voice silkier than usual, but Adam was already absorbed in his plans, oblivious.

“Yup! I figured we’d each want our space, you know? Gives us room to process… all that haunted energy we’ll be dealing with!” Adam said, as serious as ever.

Without another word, Lucifer slid out of the booth, leaving the bill as a silent payback for this misguided little excursion. Adam, grinning as always, waved it off and hurried out into the fog, disappearing with a last, excited glance back.

Once alone, Adam’s gaze softened as he took in the diner’s strange, nostalgic quiet. Fluorescent pink and teal lights buzzed overhead, casting a ghostly glow across faded linoleum floors. Old photographs were plastered across the walls—grinning locals, waitresses balancing trays, children with melting ice cream cones. All relics of a different time. They seemed to watch him from within the frames, each face holding secrets he could almost feel crawling up his spine.

Eventually, Adam sighed, paid the bill, and stepped out into the thickening fog. The mist had grown dense, a smothering blanket that softened the distant streetlights. In the direction of Centralia, it hung in the air, pulsing like a living thing. Adam squinted into the fog, a strange unease settling in his chest.

“Not from around here, are you?” a voice rasped suddenly, slicing through the night.

Adam turned to see a tall figure leaning against the diner wall, a cigarette burning between their fingers. The man’s face was obscured under the shadow of a battered cap, only the faint glow of his cigarette illuminating his sharp, unreadable gaze. He watched Adam with an intensity that was almost unnerving, exhaling smoke that curled into the fog like an omen.

“Just passing through,” Adam replied smoothly, his voice as even as his expression.

The stranger gave a low chuckle, eyeing him with an unsettling familiarity. “Be careful in Centralia, friend. Not everything that burns there shows itself by daylight.”

“Uh, we’re just...just... visiting,” Adam replied, trying to shake off the tension crawling up his spine.

The stranger chuckled softly, the sound low and humourless. “Interesting choice of places to visit. Most folks steer clear of that town. Bad luck sticks to it like tar.”

Adam forced a polite smile. “Well, we’re hee to film an episode. Centralia’s kind of... infamous, right? Stories practically make themselves thee.”

The stranger’s eyes flickered in the dim light, but he didn’t respond right away. Instead, he took another drag from his cigarette, blowing out the smoke with deliberate slowness, his gaze fixed somewhere over Adam’s shoulder, toward the foggy stretch of road.

“What’s so bad about it?” Adam pressed, trying to break the silence. “I mean, I get the fire and all, but... it’s been decades. Surely there’s not much left.”

The man’s expression didn’t change, but something dark and amused glinted in his eyes.

“You’d think that, wouldn’t you?” He shrugged, his voice soft and dismissive, almost like he was talking to himself. “Guess some things just... hang around. Like they got nowhere else to go.”

Adam furrowed his brow, frustration prickling at him. “What do you mean? Like ghosts?”

The stranger tilted his head, a sly grin curling his lips as he let out a dry chuckle. “Ghosts? Yeah, if that’s what you wanna call them. Spirits, shadows... memories that don’t know when to die.”

Adam’s skin prickled, but he forced out a nervous laugh.

“Well, I’ve heard worse. Doesn’t scare me off.” He jutted his chin defiantly, hoping to keep the unease from his voice. “We’re heading out first thing. Nothing wrong with a little thrill, right?”

The stranger’s smile faded, replaced by a look that was almost pitying. “It’s your funeral, then.”

He took one last drag on his cigarette, the ember casting a brief, red glow across his face, which seemed gaunt, almost hollow.

Adam tried to keep his cool, brushing off the odd sensation creeping up his spine. “Any advice, then?”

The man’s eyes glinted, his lips curling into a shadow of a smile as he flicked the cigarette stub into the mist.

“Yeah,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Be careful.”

Before Adam could respond, the stranger turned and walked into the fog, his footsteps soft and swift.

“Hey, wait—what do you mean?” Adam called out, but the stranger didn’t answer, his silhouette swallowed up by the mist. The silence settled back in, deeper and colder than before.

Adam stood alone in the dark, the fog curling around him like silent fingers.

“Okay, weirdo,” Adam muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets as he turned away from the diner, casting one last glance in the direction the stranger had gone. The fog swallowed up the spot whee he’d stood, like the man had melted back into it.

Adam shook his head and made his way down the cracked sidewalk toward the motel. The town around him seemed quiet—too quiet. Only one or two stores had lights on, and even those looked like they hadn’t seen many customers in years. Rusted signs creaked in the slight breeze, and every now and then, a hollow thud echoed down the empty street as the wind nudged a loose shutter. Thee was no nightlife, no buzz of activity, only the occasional stray cat darting out of sight as he passed by. This place felt like it was holding its breath, like an echo of a town that had long since faded.

When he reached the motel, its neon “Vacancy” sign sputtered, casting a flickering red glow across the parking lot. It was eerily empty, with only his and Lucifer’s rental car parked out front. The rest of the spaces stretched out in neat, abandoned rows. He fihed his key from his pocket and unlocked his room, stepping inside.

The room was dim, with an old, faded carpet that might once have been red, now a muted rust. A musty smell clung to the furniture, and the walls were a sickly, wahed-out yellow. Adam tossed his bag onto the bed, letting out a breath as he glanced around, feeling that slight tickle of unease creeping back. He tried to shake it off and pulled out his notes instead, spreading them across the small desk in the corner.

Adam shook his head, trailing down the cracked sidewalk toward the motel, feeling an odd sense of regret tugging at him. Maybe he should have convinced Lucifer to share a room—at least he wouldn’t be alone in the eerie quiet that wrapped around this town like a shroud. As he walked, his footsteps echoed on the pavement, each one sounding unnervingly loud in the stillness. There were no passing cars, no distant hum of voices, only the occasional whisper of wind that seemed to sigh between abandoned buildings.

The storefronts he passed were dark, but one or two were lit with faint, flickering lights that looked as though they hadn’t been turned off in years. Rusted signs creaked lazily in the breeze, and every so often, a dull thud echoed down the empty street as a loose shutter banged against a window. There was no nightlife, no sign of people—only a few stray cats that darted into the shadows as he passed, their eyes gleaming momentarily in the lamplight before they vanished. This place felt hollow, like the shell of a town, a hushed echo that lingered after everyone else had moved on.

The motel came into view, its neon “Vacancy” sign sputtering and casting an uneasy red glow across the parking lot. The only cars there were his and Lucifer’s rental, parked in silence like forgotten relics in the desolate lot. Adam fished his key from his pocket, glancing over at Lucifer’s door just a few steps away. His hand hovered, almost reaching to knock—but he hesitated, feeling a prick of embarrassment he couldn’t quite explain.

Instead, he unlocked his door and slipped inside, shoving away the nagging feeling that being alone might not have been the best idea. The room was dim, bathed in the weak, yellow glow of a single lamp. The carpet was faded and thin, with spots that looked suspiciously like stains, its original red color long since dulled to a rusty brown. The air was stale, carrying the faint smell of dust and something metallic, something that lingered in the corners like it had been there for ages, waiting.

Adam tossed his bag on the bed, exhaling as he tried to shrug off the tension coiling in his chest. He pulled out his notes, spreading them across the small desk in the corner, hoping that diving into research would distract him. His fingers skimmed over the pages, picking up on the names and dates he’d scrawled, notes about Centralia’s strange stories and elusive myths. The more he read, the more he felt a creeping discomfort, a sense that the puzzle pieces he’d collected didn’t quite fit, like he was brushing up against something he wasn’t meant to uncover.

He lingered on one passage detailing the town’s missing people, people who had supposedly disappeared in the years following the fire. Yet when he’d tried to find reports, there was next to nothing. Police records were scant, newspapers barely mentioned any names. It was like these people had simply… vanished, swallowed by the town itself. The locals he’d spoken to had hinted at the strange quiet that followed the fire, how authorities had sealed off the area for years. And when they reopened it, the case files, the investigations—all of it had been dropped without explanation, like they had never existed.

Shuffling to another page, his gaze snagged on the words “police tape” and “five years” scrawled in his own hurried handwriting. Whatever had happened here was buried deep, hidden beneath layers of silence and secrecy. Government records, local history—nothing mentioned Centralia, and yet the town persisted, clinging stubbornly to life, the last whispers of a place the world had tried to forget.

But it was the stories of the dolls that lingered in his mind, chilling him in a way that felt far too close to fear. Supposedly, no one knew where they came from, or why. Dolls had just begun appearing all over town, scattered in alleyways, slumped on porches, wedged in trees like abandoned memories. Some were broken and dirty, their faces smudged and cracked; others looked freshly made, pristine and new. Locals claimed that sometimes, in the night, the dolls seemed to move, like something unseen was shifting them from one place to another. People said they were markers, warnings—or worse, remnants of the spirits that wandered these desolate streets.

A shiver prickled up Adam’s spine. He tried to laugh it off, to brush away the thoughts of glassy-eyed dolls watching his every move. But the stories lingered, each one weaving a sense of dread that crept into his bones. He could almost feel their vacant eyes on him, could almost hear the whisper of something brushing past his door.

A final note, hastily scribbled, caught his eye: Be careful. It was the stranger’s warning, the low voice that had whispered to him outside the diner. Adam scoffed, attempting to shrug off the heaviness settling in his chest. Lucifer would probably tease him for it, brush it off with a smirk and some sarcastic remark. But the words hung in his mind, echoing through the room with an ominous weight. This town felt like a trap, a place waiting to ensnare anyone foolish enough to step inside.

He glanced at the clock, noting how little time remained until dawn. Outside, the fog thickened, pressing against the window, swirling and shifting as though it were alive. He found himself staring at it, at the dense haze that seemed to swallow everything beyond the glass.

Finally, he closed his notebook, a chill tightening in his stomach as his gaze drifted back to Lucifer’s door through the wall. He wondered, not for the first time, if maybe he’d made a mistake staying alone.

Adam was barely conscious when a relentless, echoing pounding rattled his motel room door, jarring him awake. He groaned, rolling over and pressing his face into the thin motel pillow, clinging to the hope that maybe this was some half-formed nightmare.

“Get up, sunshine!” Lucifer’s voice cut through the door like a razor. “We’ve got work to do, and I’m not waiting all morning!”

Dragging himself from bed, Adam forced his eyes open, stumbling toward the door and barely managing to pull it open after a few failed tries. Lucifer leaned against the frame, arms crossed, looking far too awake—and suspiciously amused.

"Why are you even up? It’s not even light out," he mumbled, fighting a yawn as he squinted at Lucifer.

Lucifer gave a dramatic sigh and then reached out, slapping Adam’s shoulder with a smirk.

“That’s the price of fame, kid. Besides, can’t waste a perfect, misty morning.” He paused, tilting his head. “Or did you need a bit more sleep, hmm?”

Adam scratched his head, his grogginess fogging any awareness of the lilt in Lucifer's voice. “You seem... unusually chipper.”

Lucifer chuckled. “No point crying over spilled blood, right? We're here, so we might as well make a killer episode.”

He turned, calling back over his shoulder with a mischievous grin. “Now hurry up! Don’t keep me waiting.”

Adam sighed and closed the door, shaking his head. Lucifer was like caffeine at double strength—enough to make him jittery. Rubbing his eyes, he shuffled around the room, grabbing his things. Outside, the cold motel walls couldn’t hold back the chill that seeped in, making his skin prickle.

When he stepped outside, the world was blanketed in fog so thick it pressed down, muffling everything, swirling around the empty parking lot in sluggish, ghostly waves. He pulled his hoodie tighter, moving toward where Lucifer stood by the car, his breath visible in the frost-laced dawn.

Lucifer arched a brow, his lips quirking. “You ready for the hike of a lifetime?”

Adam winced. “Honestly? Not really.”

Lucifer chuckled, a glint in his eyes that sent a shiver up Adam’s spine. “Too bad. And if you’d done your research right, maybe you’d have noticed that the roads are... let’s say, out of order.”

Adam frowned, trying to make sense of his words. “What? What do you mean, out of order?”

Lucifer shrugged, running a gloved hand through his tousled hair, as if savouring the chance to reveal something unsettling. “All the roads leading that way are cracked open, like something... crawled out of the ground. There’s no way we’re getting a car over that mess. Guess that leaves our feet.”

Adam stared at him, his unease deepening. “But… I didn’t find anything about destroyed roads. How does a whole town end up sealed off?”

Lucifer’s grin widened, his eyes glittering with a wicked excitement. “That’s why we’re here, genius. To find out what’s really hiding in this lovely little death trap.”

He shot Adam a challenging look, lingering a beat too long before turning toward the fog-shrouded path. “So, are you coming, or are you just going to stand there daydreaming about me?”

Adam jolted, warmth creeping into his cheeks. He muttered an awkward laugh, hurrying to catch up. “I wasn’t—I’m not daydreaming. Just... thinking.”

The forest closed in around them as they trudged into the thickening mist, the silence so dense it felt like it absorbed their footsteps. Branches curved overhead, twisted and blackened, forming strange shapes that cast warped shadows onto the ground. Adam’s nerves prickled as he took in the sights, the trees like dark sentinels guarding the way forward.

Hours slipped by, fatigue weighing their steps, until finally they reached a small clearing where a stretch of broken road appeared, half-lost in the mist. Just as Lucifer had described, the pavement looked like it had been torn open by some force from below. Blackened asphalt lay in jagged pieces, with cracks snaking along its length like the veins of something diseased.

Lucifer crouched beside the broken road, tracing a gloved finger along one of the deep fissures.

“Get the camera rolling, Adam,” he said, his voice hushed, as though even he felt the weight of whatever had scarred this place.

Adam nodded, pulling his bulky camera out and resting it on his shoulder, focusing the lens on Lucifer, who was now scrutinizing the road with an unsettling intensity. As he filmed, Adam felt the stillness press in, his pulse thrumming beneath the eerie quiet. In the distance, the fog moved like fingers stretching across the earth, curling around trees and rocks, thickening as though something lay hidden within its depths, just waiting for them to get closer.

Lucifer glanced up, catching Adam’s eye with a slow, unsettling smile.

“You nervous, Adam?” His voice held a teasing edge, but his gaze lingered, a flicker of something unspoken dancing in his expression.

Adam swallowed, gripping the camera tighter. “Uh, no... I’m just... focused.”

He felt a strange warmth under Lucifer’s gaze, but brushed it off, chalking it up to the unnerving vibe of the place.

Lucifer’s chuckle was low, almost conspiratorial. “Good. Wouldn’t want you running off before we get to the really creepy part.”

Adam forced a smile, feeling a bit off-kilter, as though he was being led somewhere he couldn’t see.

“Here we are,” Lucifer began, his voice slipping into the low, haunting tone he saved for only the creepiest of shoots.

“The first stretch of road leading into our ‘special’ town. And it looks like something clawed its way right through it.” He knelt, fingers tracing the jagged cracks that split the asphalt wide open, dipping into the fissure like he was teasing something slumbering beneath.

“It’s as if the earth itself wanted to swallow this place whole,” he murmured, almost to himself. His fingers lingered along the blackened, crumbling edge of the road, drifting with a strange grace. Then, with a slow, taunting glance back at Adam, he smirked. “Every road leading into Centralia looks like this. Fractured, twisted… like it was burned from the inside out. No earthquakes, no natural disaster on record can explain it.”

Adam shut off the camera, sliding it back into its case. “So, what do you think actually caused this? I mean, logically.”

Lucifer shrugged, lips curling into a faint, almost knowing smile. “A fault line, maybe? Or some underground activity we’re not privy to? But let’s be real—an earthquake wouldn’t turn the ground black as tar, would it?”

Adam shook his head. “No… that’s just it. It’s like the ground’s been scorched.”

They walked further down the road, the destruction growing worse with each step. The asphalt disintegrated beneath their feet, parts of it crumbling like old charcoal. He knelt to examine it, and the road material dissolved under his fingertips like ash.

The silence thickened around them, pressing down as the road began to twist, scars widening into gaping chasms. The trees lining their path grew dark, their trunks streaked with a slick, oily residue, and Lucifer reached out, touching one of the trunks. His gloved fingers came away smeared with a thick, inky substance that reeked faintly of smoke and decay.

“What the hell is this?” he muttered, scowling as he wiped the black gunk on his leather jacket. The faintest flicker of disgust crossed his face as he looked at his now-stained hand.

Adam glanced up, uneasy. The trees loomed like skeletal fingers against the dull sky, their branches stripped bare and clawing outward. Somewhere above, two crows circled, their harsh cries slicing through the dense silence. Adam shivered, muttering, “Bad omen.”

Lucifer rolled his eyes, though a glimmer of amusement danced there. “Come on, don’t go getting all superstitious on me. There’s no such thing as ghosts, Adam.” His gaze lingered a moment longer. “And if anything creepy does decide to show, I’ll be the one to protect you. Promise.”

Adam chuckled, brushing off the chill that ran down his spine. “Oh yeah, that’s comforting.”

They continued forward, the fog thickening as it curled around them, swallowing the road in shadows. Lucifer took a step ahead, casting a quick, roguish glance over his shoulder. “Try to keep up, won’t you?”

Adam rolled his eyes, stumbling as he caught his foot on a loose chunk of asphalt, narrowly catching himself. “Careful, Lucifer,” he teased, trying to see through the mist. “Can’t have you tripping over your own confidence.”

Just then, Lucifer stumbled, his foot catching on a jagged edge, forcing him forward. He straightened quickly, cheeks coloring faintly as he huffed, brushing off his jacket. “Watch yourself, sunshine,” he shot back, though his smirk softened as he narrowed his eyes playfully at Adam.

The fog grew denser still, heavy and damp, clinging to their skin as the silence settled like a shroud. It felt as if they were pressing deeper into something they weren’t meant to uncover. Finally, a faint shape began to form through the mist—a weathered sign, its letters faded and streaked with grime. Adam pointed, barely able to contain a strange thrill. “Hey—look!”

The sign came into view, its rusted lettering peeling, spelling out the town’s name: Silent Hill.

“We’re close now,” Adam murmured, his voice barely audible as if even he didn’t want to disturb the silence that held the town in its grip.

Lucifer cocked a brow, his smirk widening. “Silent Hill? Sounds like the setup for some god-awful horror movie.” He stepped closer, examining the sign, its chipped green paint looking more like moss than a welcome. “If I see any creepy nurses or monsters with freaky heads, I’m done.”

Adam’s laugh drifted out, his breath visible in the cold. “Silent Hill… yeah, like something straight out of a nightmare.”

Lucifer scoffed, though the smile tugging at his mouth didn’t fade. He stepped back, taking in the battered, eerie sign as if it were a warning rather than a greeting. The letters were unevenly scrawled, as if someone had tried to maintain it against the slow crawl of decay, but years of neglect had turned it into a relic of something best forgotten. It stood like a final boundary, almost hesitant to let them pass.

“Well, lead the way, fearless leader,” Adam murmured, casting him a glance of playful confidence.

Lucifer shook his head, muttering, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, sunshine,” before stepping through the fog-drenched threshold, his smile hiding something darker, something that felt like a dare.

They walked on, each step swallowed by the spongy earth, muffled and ghostly, as if the ground itself wanted to consume the sound. The road wound and twisted like something diseased, cracked wide open and jagged, leading them further into the blackened heart of Silent Hill. Burn marks crawled across the surface in strange, charred patterns, as though scorched by flames that had left no warmth, only a deep, dead cold.

Crossing the town’s threshold, an unnatural chill slipped around them, tendrils of cold tightening like skeletal fingers. The silence grew oppressive, thick as fog, broken only by the rare crackle of unseen leaves and the distant, throaty caws of crows watching from the void above. As the mist shifted, the town’s structures crept into view—rows of decayed buildings slouched on either side, their broken windows dark and hollow, watching with an unsettling, silent patience.

"Alright, Adam. Start recording," Lucifer's voice cut through the silence, his tone lower, sharper, as if the air itself might eavesdrop.

Adam shook off his trance, lifting the camera, adjusting until Lucifer was framed perfectly against the mist-bound ruins behind him. Lucifer's gaze turned forward, his voice slipping into that eerie cadence, something almost too perfect, too practiced, as he let the weight of the town seep into his words.

"Here we are," he began, his voice low and hushed, as if afraid to wake something lurking in the shadows. "Silent Hill. Abandoned, left to rot in its own silence, a town filled with... echoes."

He took a step forward, gesturing toward the broken asphalt and the derelict buildings lining the streets, their faces streaked with age and soot, like scarred, forgotten souls.

“Why was it abandoned? What horrors lie within these walls? The few records that even acknowledge Silent Hill suggest something went terribly wrong here—something everyone wants to forget.”

He motioned to a row of dolls that lined the fog-choked sidewalks, strewn like discarded relics along benches and steps. Each one was twisted, scorched, their faces cracked and vacant, eyes burned black as if watching things no one should see. Lucifer crouched by one, lifting it gingerly by its scorched, brittle arm, and his voice dropped lower, almost reverent.

“These dolls... there are stories about them, tales of how they just… appear. No one knows who placed them, or why. Silent reminders, arranged by unseen hands. Left to watch, or to remember.”

Setting the doll down with care, Lucifer straightened, locking eyes with Adam. Something raw flashed across his face, almost vulnerable before he blinked it away, the ghost of a grin slipping into its place. The camera’s whirr cut off, leaving Adam and Lucifer in thickening silence. Adam lowered the camera, but the unease pressing on his chest only grew heavier, thicker, like the fog itself was alive, tightening its grip around them.

“So... what do you really think happened here?” he asked, his voice barely breaking through the stillness, as if the fog might listen in.

Lucifer tilted his head, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he scanned the dead street, his gaze drifting over every eerie detail with something almost... hungry.

"Who knows? Could be superstition—or maybe there’s something someone’s gone to a lot of trouble to keep hidden." His eyes glinted, flashing with something sly and unsettling. "But I can tell you this—there’s something wrong here. Like the town itself is... waiting."

Adam felt a shiver crawl up his spine, but he forced it down, eyes following Lucifer’s long strides as he moved deeper into Silent Hill. The fog clung to them, thickening, folding in on itself like it was swallowing them whole. It felt alive, sentient, as if it had memories of its own, unwilling to let them trespass so freely. Silence closed around them, heavy and choking, but finally, Adam spoke again, his voice low and cautious, barely daring to break the hush.

“Did I mention the police had this place locked down for five years straight?”

Lucifer paused, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “No… Why?”

Adam’s voice fell even lower, an almost conspiratorial whisper. “They wouldn’t say. Anyone who tried to access the records was met with the same answer: Silent Hill didn’t exist. The police… they outright denied the town, and those who asked too many questions? They disappeared.”

Lucifer’s eyes widened, a genuine spark of intrigue mixing with something darker. His gaze shifted, lingering on the scattered dolls that lined the road, each one dressed in faded clothing from different eras. They were strange, eerie effigies, like something a child might stitch together from memory—only they had faces, darkened, broken. Each one looked like it had been through a hundred fires, sitting in still, quiet torment, watching, waiting, their black eyes searing right through the mist.

“Look at them,” Lucifer muttered, almost to himself, his gaze running over the ragged forms. “Dressed like the townsfolk, aren’t they? Some are modern, some from who knows when…”

He leaned closer to one with a tattered floral dress, its painted eyes glinting with something sinister beneath the grime. “It’s like the town’s leaving us clues, weaving its own twisted history into these… remnants.”

Adam swallowed, his skin prickling with the sensation of unseen eyes tracking their every move. Each doll seemed to stare, their hollow eyes following, dead and endless, as if the secrets of Silent Hill had carved themselves into their wooden faces, as if they knew why the fog was growing thicker, why the silence felt so… predatory.

The fog thickened around them, swallowing the path back, as though Silent Hill itself had decided to keep them here—trapped in the fog’s cold embrace, with nothing but the dolls for company, watching, waiting, as if the town had only just begun to tell its story.

Adam’s gaze clung to the rows of decrepit, darkened buildings, each one slumped and shadowed, lining the street like silent sentinels. They seemed frozen in some agonizing moment, leaning just slightly as if bending beneath the weight of years. Broken windows dotted each structure, some fractured to reveal nothing but blackness within, others smudged with grime and dust. Behind that filthy glass, there was the chilling impression of unseen eyes watching, waiting.

Silent Hill wore an eerie veil of ordinariness, yet everything was touched by an unsettling stillness, a silence that hummed with wrongness. It felt like the ghost of a bustling town had been preserved here, in the middle of an invisible breath, right before disaster struck. The empty shops on the main street seemed ready to come alive at any second, their dust-laden windows showcasing displays of strange, outdated goods—canned food lined up in warped metal, posters faded beyond recognition, mannequins with their faces nearly worn away, leaving only empty sockets and chipped, lifeless smiles. This wasn’t simply abandonment; it felt as if the town was decaying from the inside out, like an old film reel rotting to darkness.

Ahead of them, a solitary hotel loomed, its faded sign hanging on a single rusted chain, swinging slightly in the chill air. The paint had peeled away, showing faded layers of once-vibrant color—blue, red, green—like the ghostly remains of a thousand attempts to keep the place alive. But time had worn it all down. Fog crept around its upper floors, pressing against the windows like an insistent hand, and as they neared, the doors of the hotel seemed to gape, black and empty, like a mouth waiting to consume them.

Lucifer’s gaze moved slowly, flicking from building to building, lingering on the strange dolls that peered from windowsills and shadows. His voice was soft, like an unspoken thought.

“This place is… something else,” he murmured, almost to himself.

Adam nodded, catching Lucifer’s gaze for a moment before glancing away. “It’s like the town’s holding its breath. Waiting for someone to walk back in, like nothing happened. But there’s nothing here. No life.”

They walked on, their footsteps echoing unnaturally loud in the suffocating quiet. Every shop sign, swaying faintly in a non-existent breeze, bore faded names—almost too worn to read. There had once been a bakery, an old-fashioned barbershop, a florist with a mural of roses on its wall, though the once-bright reds and greens had faded into sickly shades of grey and black.

Yet something about the town didn’t seem completely dead. Every so often, an unseen sound would drift through the fog—a clatter, a shuffling echo—like footsteps moving just out of view, or a door creaking on its hinges. But whenever Adam turned, no doors ever visibly shifted. He could have sworn he saw something—a flicker of movement—in one of the upstairs windows of the hotel, just for a moment, like a shadow pulling back a curtain. But when he blinked, it was gone, leaving only the desolate street and the blanket of fog.

A shiver ran down Adam’s spine, thickening with the gnawing sensation that they weren’t alone here. The emptiness of Silent Hill felt deceptive, like it wore its own mask. Some unknown presence seemed to lurk just beyond his line of sight, concealed in the heavy fog, watching them with a deep, quiet hunger.

Lucifer took a slow breath, his exhale curling through the mist like a ghost of warmth. His eyes were fixed on the looming hotel, a glint of something dark and excited flickering in them.

“Come on,” he murmured, almost playful, like he was coaxing Adam closer. “Let’s see what’s inside the hotel. If there’s any place with answers in this town, it’s bound to be that relic.”

Adam swallowed, nodding, his voice caught in his throat as he felt Lucifer’s gaze linger on him a moment too long, like the town wasn’t the only thing here with secrets. He cast a last glance over his shoulder at the dolls scattered along the street, each one tilted just so, their hollow eyes following, as though either warning him—or welcoming him.

As they neared the hotel, the weight of Lucifer’s stare didn’t fade. Adam felt an odd warmth creeping under his skin every time their eyes met but dismissed it as just the strangeness of the place, the unease it stirred in him. Lucifer moved closer, his fingers brushing Adam’s arm lightly.

“You scared, Adam?” he whispered, a smirk playing on his lips, his tone just a little too teasing.

“Of course not,” Adam muttered, his voice wavering in spite of himself.

Lucifer’s smirk grew as his fingers lingered a moment longer, a touch almost intimate, almost… possessive, but Adam brushed it off, too rattled to let himself wonder why his pulse quickened at the closeness.

Adam trailed behind Lucifer, eyes wandering the fractured streets and dilapidated buildings cloaked in mist. A chill clawed its way down his spine as he turned his head by chance, catching sight of a side street buried in fog. He squinted into the haze, his breath catching as he made out rows upon rows of doll-like figures scattered down the street—at first as silent and unmoving as the rest. But then, one of the dolls moved. It bolted across the street, limbs jerking, disappearing into the fog. Adam’s gasp cut through the silence, his green eyes widening as he yelled, “Wait!” before tearing off in pursuit.

“Adam?!” Lucifer’s voice, sharp with alarm, echoed behind him.

Adam heard him call again, but didn’t stop, his heart thundering as he plunged deeper into the mist. The fog thickened, blurring the edges of buildings and muting his own footfalls until it felt like he was running through some endless dream. Finally, his breath heaving, Adam stumbled to a halt, hands braced against his knees as he gasped for air.

Moments later, Lucifer skidded to a stop beside him, doubling over with a muttered curse.

“What...in hell’s name...do you think you’re doing?” he panted, casting a furious but relieved look at Adam. His hands fell to his hips as he caught his breath, concern flickering in his gaze. “Damn it, Adam, don’t pull stuff like that.”

Adam shook his head, still trying to steady his breathing.

“I’m sorry. I...I saw someone,” he managed, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Lucifer blinked, his eyes narrowing. He glanced around at the empty, mist-choked street, his brows knitting in disbelief. “Are you sure it wasn’t another doll?” His voice held a teasing lilt, but his eyes darted over every shadow, scanning the fog as though daring it to reveal itself.

“No,” Adam insisted, shaking his head emphatically. “I’m sure. It wasn’t a doll; they were running, Lucifer. I swear.”

Lucifer’s gaze softened a fraction, his mouth twisting with a bemused smile. “You’re stubborn, you know that?”

He folded his arms, sweeping the fog-shrouded street with another hard look. “Alright, let’s assume you did see someone. If they were here, they’re gone now. We’re all alone again.”

Adam groaned, rubbing his temples as the edges of doubt crept in. “But they were right there,” he muttered, casting another glance over his shoulder, half-expecting the figure to reappear in the shadowed doorway of a building.

“Maybe it was a shadow or a trick of the fog,” Lucifer suggested, a strange softness entering his tone as he placed a hand on Adam’s shoulder. “Places like this…they have a way of playing with your mind.”

Adam sighed, his eyes fixed on the deserted street, though he could still feel Lucifer’s hand lingering on his shoulder, warm and oddly reassuring. He glanced down, confused by the strange warmth blooming under his skin. But when he looked up, Lucifer’s expression was calm, even affectionate—a look that made his heart stutter for reasons he couldn’t quite name.

“Alright, alright,” Adam mumbled, brushing off the thoughts as he turned back. But the silence around them felt heavier, as though they were no longer alone. It was as if the entire town was pressing closer, listening, breathing with them.

Lucifer watched him for a moment longer, then tugged gently on his sleeve, his voice soft and coaxing. “Come on, if anyone’s still lingering here, they’ll find their way to the hotel sooner or later. Let’s keep moving.”

Reluctantly, Adam nodded, casting one last look into the swirling fog before following Lucifer back toward the hotel that loomed like a dark monolith in the distance. Its empty windows were like hollow eyes, staring out into the town’s forgotten streets.

They walked side by side, Adam’s green eyes darting nervously between the empty buildings as they neared the towering structure. The dolls seemed to watch from every window, their vacant eyes following the two as if each step brought them closer to something they couldn’t turn back from. Lucifer noticed his tense glances and gave a small, amused snort, jerking his head toward a faint shape emerging in the mist.

“Would you look at that?” he muttered, nodding to a red-roofed building that had been partially obscured behind a row of gnarled, withered trees and crumbling storefronts. “A school. Guess even this town thought it would last forever.”

Adam squinted at the faded schoolhouse, its once-bright paint dulled by grime and fog. The sight unsettled him, a reminder that Silent Hill had once been a town full of life.

“They must have thought they’d be here…forever,” he murmured, his voice trailing off as he imagined what it might have looked like, full of children and families.

Lucifer chuckled, casting him a sidelong glance that made Adam’s pulse skip.

“That’s the thing, Adam,” he said, his voice low and laced with something darkly amused. “People never think they’ll just… disappear. One day, they’re putting up schools and bakeries, and the next…”

His words trailed off, but his gaze lingered on Adam, as though there was a deeper meaning he wasn’t quite saying.

Adam laughed awkwardly, forcing himself to break eye contact. “Yeah. Guess it was a dumb statement.”

Lucifer’s gaze lingered on him, a strange fondness flickering behind his eyes as he smirked.

“Maybe not that dumb,” he murmured, so softly that Adam barely heard him. He gave the school one last glance as they walked past, letting its ghostly presence sink into the fog behind them.

The hotel loomed closer, its faded sign hanging at an angle above the door, weathered and abandoned yet strangely inviting. Adam quickened his pace, falling in step with Lucifer as they approached the entrance, feeling the eyes of the forgotten town watching them from within every broken window and every shadowed corner.

They entered the hotel, swallowed by darkness and the faint scent of mildew and decay. The heavy doors creaked shut behind them, sealing them in. Dust drifted through the air like fine ash, and the air felt thick, weighted with years of silence and secrets. The lobby was eerily pristine despite the dust; old armchairs sat arranged as though they’d been waiting forever, empty yet expectant. A fireplace lay cold and dark, its ashes undisturbed but somehow recent, as though someone had been here, warming themselves by the fire… waiting.

Adam turned, uneasy, only to find Lucifer leaning against the counter, studying him with a gaze that felt like it could pierce right through him. The look in Lucifer’s eyes was strange—dark, a little too intent, as if he was savouring every moment here, every glance, every touch. Adam could feel his cheeks warm slightly but chalked it up to nerves, unaware of the amusement glinting in Lucifer’s eyes.

“Come on, partner,” Lucifer said, his voice sliding through the dark like honeyed poison. “Let’s see what else this place has to offer.”

He offered his hand with a crooked smile, a silent invitation—or was it a dare? Adam hesitated, but after a heartbeat’s pause, he took it, feeling the warmth of Lucifer’s hand swallow his own.

They moved together deeper into the shadows, the broken mirrors lining the halls casting fractured reflections of themselves back as they walked side by side. In the mirrors, shadows seemed to cling to their images, dark shapes flickering just behind them, stretching longer than they should, as if the darkness itself wanted to reach out, to touch.

Adam couldn’t shake the feeling of being drawn deeper, not only by the hotel but by the faint, relentless pull of Lucifer’s eyes. The walls seemed to tighten around them, the whispers of fog drifting through cracked windows, curling like breath. Somewhere in the distance, a soft, melodic hum echoed, barely audible, like a lullaby sung in another life.

Lucifer’s voice broke the silence, low and almost… fond.

“Stick close to me, Adam. I’d hate for something to happen to you here.” The words lingered in the air like smoke, curling into Adam’s mind as they stepped further, deeper, into the heart of Silent Hill, and the strange, twisted secrets it seemed all too eager to share.

Adam coughed, the dust prickling in his throat, prompting a pointed look from Lucifer.

“You got your inhaler?” he asked, one eyebrow arched in concern.

“Of course I do,” Adam replied grumpily, patting his pocket.

“Good,” Lucifer said, a smirk dancing on his lips. “Last thing I need is you having another asthma attack like in Italy.”

“That won’t happen,” Adam assured him, a mix of amusement and defensiveness colouring his voice. “Quit worrying, Mom.”

Lucifer gasped in mock offense, playfully swatting at Adam's shoulder. “Mom, huh?” Their laughter echoed through the fog, a reminder of the years spent together, a bond forged in darkness and light. In that moment, Adam felt an overwhelming swell of gratitude—Lucifer had been his anchor during the stormiest days, his truest friend.

With a shared sense of determination, they pushed through the dusty double doors, stepping into the hotel’s entryway. The interior was as lifeless as the exterior, drenched in shadows. Faded, peeling wallpaper clung to the walls like dead skin, and the ceiling bore dark patches of mold that spread like inkblots across the surface. The carpet lay in tatters, moth-eaten and reeking of neglect, while pieces of upturned furniture lay scattered as if the hotel had been abandoned mid-chaos, frozen in its last moments of despair.

And then there were the dolls.

Dozens of them, seated in eerie, haphazard clusters across the lounge area. Some perched on the edges of tables, others sprawled over upturned chairs, all facing forward as if waiting for a performance to begin. Their lifeless eyes, dull and unblinking, created an unsettling audience, their blank stares fixed squarely on Lucifer and Adam, silently judging their intrusion.

Lucifer glanced back at Adam, a mischievous smirk creeping onto his face. Taking a deep breath, he bellowed, “HELLO!”

Adam jumped, his heart racing as he clutched his chest. “Lucifer! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

Lucifer burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the cavernous space. “See? Nobody here but a bunch of creepy dolls!”

Adam rolled his eyes, letting out a huff of relief, though the earlier image of that fleeting shadow lingered in his mind like a bad dream. “Maybe it was just... I don’t know, my imagination playing tricks,” he mumbled, still unsettled.

“Probably,” Lucifer replied, giving him a knowing look. “You didn’t sleep much last night. That always happens when you’re tired.”

He spun around, fingers snapping as he backtracked toward the front desk, gesturing for Adam to get the camera ready.

Adam shrugged off his pack, pulling out the camera and lifting it to his shoulder. With practiced ease, he directed it toward Lucifer, who was positioning himself near the counter, standing in front of a weathered wooden wall of room keys, many of which were mysteriously missing.

Clearing his throat, Lucifer lowered his voice into a haunting, theatrical tone. “Behind me, you’ll notice the once-grand Silent Hill Hotel, left to rot in its own quiet despair. Dusty floors, overturned furniture, and most curiously…”

He stepped aside, allowing the camera to focus on the wall of tarnished keys. “These.”

Reaching out, he tapped the tarnished plaques with his finger. “Each key here would have led to a room filled with life—a family on vacation, a couple celebrating an anniversary, a businessman traveling for work…”

His voice softened, leaning in closer to the camera. “But look closely, folks—more than half of these keys are missing. You have to wonder… where did all those people go?”

His hand fell as he gestured to the empty spaces on the wall, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Maybe they never checked out. Maybe they were… spirited away in their rooms, vanished without a trace, leaving nothing behind but these eerie dolls as reminders.”

Despite the unsettling atmosphere, Adam couldn’t help but grin. Lucifer had a unique talent for transforming any setting into a stage for shadows and mysteries, and Silent Hill seemed to inspire the most chilling performances. His voice dropped to a whisper, barely audible over the camera’s whir, as he glanced around the empty lobby.

“And if you listen closely,” he continued, leaning toward the lens, “You might just hear them whispering, waiting… as if they’ve never really left.”

He stepped back, letting the weight of his words linger in the air. Adam clicked the camera off, still feeling a tingle of excitement from Lucifer's performance. He exhaled, shaking his head in admiration.

“You sure know how to make an empty room feel haunted,” he said, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly.

Lucifer shrugged, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “It’s all about selling the story, my friend.”

His gaze flicked past Adam, fixating on the shadowy stairwell that led up into the darkness. “And I have a feeling… that we’ve only scratched the surface.”

With that, the two of them exchanged a glance, a mix of apprehension and exhilaration swirling in the air between them. Whatever secrets lay hidden within the heart of Silent Hill, they would face them together, united against the encroaching shadows. As they moved deeper into the hotel, the atmosphere grew heavier, thick with the weight of memories long forgotten and whispers yet to be spoken.

As Adam and Lucifer ventured deeper into the hotel’s shadows, the building seemed to creak and groan around them, as though the hotel itself was alive, watching them navigate its decay with quiet amusement. Dust floated thickly in the air, catching in Adam’s throat and clinging to every surface, and the once-grand decor had faded into bleakness. Blue paint peeled from the walls, curling back like desiccated leaves, and patches of garish, outdated wallpaper hung limply, stained by years of neglect. Holes and gaping fissures pocked the floor, leaving yawning gaps between the remaining boards—forcing the two to climb gingerly along the edges, testing each step before daring to proceed.

Lucifer paused beside Adam as they stepped around a particularly large hole. He nudged Adam, eyes alight with mischief despite the grim surroundings.

“You know,” he purred, his voice low and teasing, “We are in a hotel. We could find a room and... make our own kind of fun.”

Adam let out a bark of laughter, entirely oblivious to the suggestive undertone. “Yeah, sure! You really want to hang out in this dump? We’d probably get tetanus from the sheets.”

He grinned, nudging Lucifer back, seemingly amused by his friend’s “joke.”

Lucifer chuckled, lips curving into a soft smile, enjoying the obliviousness. He glanced sideways at Adam, eyes flicking over his childhood friend’s face, savouring the unspoken tension between them even if Adam remained blissfully unaware.

They came to another gaping hole in the floor, wider than most, the broken edges of wood jutting upward like teeth. Adam surveyed it and turned back to Lucifer, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“I’ll go first. Long legs have their advantages, you know?” he teased, making a show of easily leaping across the gap and landing on the other side with a graceful thud.

He turned, offering his hands to Lucifer with a grin. “Need a hand, shorty?”

Lucifer’s cheeks puffed out indignantly. “I am not short.”

With a defiant huff, he took a few steps back, then sprinted forward, eyes trained on the other side. But as his feet left the ground, his boot slipped on the dusty floorboard. He teetered on the edge, arms flailing, a flash of fear sparking in his blue eyes.

Before he could slip back, Adam lunged forward, grabbing Lucifer’s arm and yanking him close, pulling him flush against his chest. For a moment, the world went silent, and Lucifer’s arms instinctively wrapped around Adam’s middle, his face pressed into the warmth of his friend’s chest. His heart thundered, not entirely from the near-fall.

Adam grinned down at him, brows raised with amusement. “Scared, Lucy?”

Lucifer lifted his gaze, cheeks tinged pink as he met Adam’s eyes. His voice dropped to a murmur, barely audible above the quiet creaks of the hotel. “Not when you’re here, I’m not.”

Adam’s grin widened, his face lighting up at the compliment. He gave Lucifer’s smaller form an affectionate squeeze, and Lucifer let out a small yelp, squirming as Adam’s strong arms held him tight.

“Y-you’re crushing me, you oaf!” Lucifer whined, his face heating further as he half-heartedly pushed at Adam’s chest.

Adam laughed, loosening his grip but keeping his hands steady on Lucifer’s shoulders, his expression playful. “Alright, alright. But you’ve gotta admit—this shorty’s a little lucky I’ve got long legs.”

Lucifer rolled his eyes, huffing, but his smile lingered, soft and genuine, his flushed cheeks betraying the gratitude—and something else—that Adam hadn’t yet recognized.

As they continued their careful exploration through the silent, desolate hotel, Adam and Lucifer walked side by side, their footsteps muted by the thick layer of dust coating the carpet. The corridor seemed to stretch endlessly ahead, lined with broken light fixtures that flickered faintly, casting eerie shadows across peeling walls and rotting doors. Faint, twisted sounds reached them from deeper within the corridor—odd, distorted groans, metallic scrapes, and an unsettling whining that seemed to ripple through the walls themselves.

The two exchanged a wary look, and Lucifer instinctively shuffled closer to Adam, his hand brushing against Adam’s. Adam, almost reflexively, took hold of his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Lucifer’s breath hitched, a brief smile flickering across his face as he clung tightly, his fingers laced with Adam’s. Together, they gazed down the dim hallway, where half-open doors revealed rooms in various states of decay. In some rooms, a few dolls sat on the floor or propped against beds, their lifeless eyes fixed vacantly on the doorway, as if waiting.

They ventured further down the corridor, drawn by the unsettling noises. As they approached, the sounds intensified, morphing into something far worse than simple groans—now inhuman whining, like metal grating against bone, underscored by the eerie sound of wire stretching and snapping in sharp bursts. Adam’s grip tightened as they stopped in front of a door marked "Janitor’s Closet," its handle tarnished and faintly rusted.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow, his hand trembling slightly as he reached for the door. Slowly, he pressed against it, and the door dragged open with a grating, ear-piercing whine. It scraped along the floor as it swung open, revealing a grotesque sight.

Inside, wire webs stretched in tangled webs from wall to wall, binding every inch of the small room. The wires crisscrossed in intricate patterns, wrapping around and pulling tight across a form—a corpse hanging midair, twisted backward by the sharp, biting wire. Its face, pale and rotted, stared blankly forward, its mouth open in a silent scream as the wires twisted through its limbs, pinning it in a grotesque puppet-like pose.

Lucifer’s eyes widened in horror, his hand flying to his mouth as he stumbled back, his face ghostly pale.

“That—that’s not a doll,” he gasped, his voice trembling. His stomach twisted violently, and he choked out, “I’m… I’m gonna be sick!”

He clamped a hand over his mouth, slipping his hand free from Adam’s grasp as he turned, desperate to get away.

Adam covered his own mouth, his own pulse pounding as the rancid odour of decay filled the air. The sight was sickening, even worse than the dolls—something about the way the corpse was suspended, bound like some macabre piece of art, felt personal, as though the hotel were trapping them in a twisted game. His heart raced, and he didn’t need another look to agree with Lucifer’s instinct to flee.

They stumbled back into the corridor, both struggling to shake the haunting image from their minds. Just as they caught their breath, Lucifer’s foot hovered over empty air where solid ground should have been. He screamed, the sound piercing as he lurched forward, the floor giving way in the blink of an eye.

“Lucifer!” Adam shouted, lunging forward and grabbing his arm just before he could fall into the dark chasm that had somehow formed behind them. He pulled him back with all his strength, and they both toppled back, landing heavily on the ground, Lucifer landing squarely against Adam’s chest.

For a moment, they lay there, Lucifer’s rapid breaths hot against Adam’s neck, his fingers digging into Adam’s hoodie with a death grip. Adam rubbed his back in soothing circles, his own heart still pounding.

“You—you okay?” he managed, his voice gentle as he glanced down at his trembling friend.

Lucifer nodded, though his expression betrayed his rattled state. His fingers clung to Adam’s hoodie, eyes fixed on the spot where solid floor had just been, his breath coming in short, gasping pants.

Adam’s gaze followed Lucifer’s, staring at the gaping hole in the corridor with equal disbelief. Had the floor just given out after they’d walked over it? The quiet realization settled over them that, like everything else in this town, the very structure of the hotel was shifting, moving beneath their feet, as though leading them deeper into its depths.

But with Lucifer’s fingers clinging to his shirt, Adam felt a surge of determination, a silent promise to keep him safe. Squeezing him tighter for just a moment, Adam whispered, “I’m not letting go. Not in here—not ever.”

Lucifer blushed, his grip softening as he looked up, his eyes meeting Adam’s with an unspoken gratitude.

Adam’s soft smile lingered as he slowly loosened his hold, but not before giving Lucifer one last reassuring squeeze.

Lucifer’s breaths came shallow and fast, his chest heaving as he clutched at Adam’s hoodie, his wide blue eyes staring up at him, filled with horror.

“Who… who could have done that?” he stammered, his voice barely a whisper, hands shaking. “That body… Adam, how was it even here? Shouldn’t the police have found it? Taped this place off or something?”

Adam’s face softened, and he reached up, gently cupping Lucifer’s face between his hands, thumbs brushing lightly over his cheeks.

“Hey, look at me. It’s okay,” he murmured, his voice calm and steady, grounding Lucifer. “Just take a few deep breaths. Focus on me, alright? We’ll be fine. I don’t know how long that poor person has been there, but it could have happened after the police last came through.”

Lucifer stared at him, his breaths gradually slowing, his gaze locked onto Adam’s eyes. He nodded, a little unsteady, as he processed Adam’s words.

“So… we’ll leave, then? Tell the police?” he asked, his voice still shaky.

Adam nodded, his grip on Lucifer steady as he helped him to his feet. But as Lucifer straightened, his legs buckled, his strength giving out as he slumped back into Adam’s arms, his whole body trembling.

“I’ve never… I’ve never seen anything like that,” he whispered, his voice cracking.

Adam held him closer, rubbing his back in slow, comforting circles. “I know. Just breathe. I’m right here with you.”

After a few moments, Lucifer’s breathing steadied again, and he nodded, his fingers still gripping Adam’s sleeve tightly. Adam looked back to the broken floor ahead, the gap stretching across the hallway.

“Alright,” he said, Llooks like we’ll have to shimmy along the wall to get around it. It’s too big to jump.”

He stepped up to the edge, pressing himself flat against the wall, his movements careful but confident as he edged along the narrow strip of floor that remained. Reaching the other side, Adam turned back to Lucifer, offering him a reassuring smile.

“See? It’s easy. Just keep looking at me, okay? Don’t look down. I’ll be right here.”

Lucifer glanced down at the dark void beneath him, swallowing thickly before looking back at Adam. He nodded, his face pale, and followed, trembling as he pressed himself against the wall, inching along with his eyes fixed solely on Adam. When he reached the other side, he reached out, and Adam took his hand, helping him up onto the platform.

“There. You did great,” Adam said softly, smiling down at him with a gentle warmth that steadied Lucifer.

Lucifer sniffed, managing a faint smile as he shook his head.

“Maybe… we should wait until morning,” he mumbled, gesturing to the window at the end of the hallway, where the sky had darkened. “I don’t want to walk through this place—and then the forest—in the pitch black.”

Adam nodded, glancing around at the nearby doors. “Agreed. It’d be unwise to head out now.” He nodded toward one of the cracked, ajar doors. “We can wait in here until dawn. The hotel might actually be our safest bet for the night.”

Lucifer’s eyes widened as Adam pushed the door open, revealing a small, dusty room, mercifully empty of any dolls.

“We… we’re staying together?” he asked softly, a hint of vulnerability in his voice.

Adam blinked, surprised, but nodded. “Yeah, that was the idea. Unless… you’d rather not?”

But Lucifer immediately shook his head, his grip tightening on Adam’s hand.

“No! I… I don’t want to be alone,” he said quickly, stepping closer to him, his expression earnest.

With a soft smile, Adam led him into the room. The door didn’t lock, so they improvised, stacking a few heavy objects—an old wooden chair, a dusty crate—against it, creating a makeshift barricade. It wasn’t much, but it gave them a little sense of security.

They both settled on the floor, their backs against the wall, both hesitant to touch the bed, its stained, dust-coated mattress giving them second thoughts. Lucifer leaned into Adam’s side, his head resting against Adam’s shoulder, his eyes still wide and wary, his body tense.

Adam slid an arm around his shoulders, pulling him in a little closer.

“It’ll be alright, Lucifer,” he murmured softly, his tone warm and reassuring.

Lucifer’s breath hitched slightly as he glanced up at him, finding comfort in the warmth of Adam’s presence. The weight of the room, the decay, the darkness—they all felt a little less suffocating with Adam by his side.

For the first time that night, Lucifer closed his eyes, allowing himself to let go, even if just a little, as Adam’s steady presence kept his fears at bay.

The room lay silent, thick with dust and shadows that seemed to stretch toward them, yet all Lucifer could focus on was Adam’s peaceful face, his steady breaths and the soft rise and fall of his chest. The faint moonlight filtering through the grimy window cast gentle shadows across Adam’s face, highlighting his strong jawline and the faint curve of his lips. Even in sleep, Adam’s expression held a quiet strength, and Lucifer couldn’t look away.

A wave of something familiar but forbidden rose in Lucifer’s chest—an ache that had lingered there for as long as he could remember. Adam’s presence was a balm, easing an ache he never fully understood. Shifting slightly, he slid from Adam’s side to his lap, moving carefully so as not to wake him. His fingers found the zipper of Adam’s hoodie, pinching it lightly, hesitating for a moment before he slowly pulled it down. As he did, a faint rustle of fabric stirred the silence. He took a deep breath, settling himself against Adam’s chest, laying his head there, feeling the warmth seep through the thin fabric of Adam’s shirt.

He closed his eyes, listening to the steady thump of Adam’s heart beneath his cheek—a comforting, rhythmic beat that lulled his own fears and stirred up a bittersweet comfort. Lucifer’s hand found its way to Adam’s chest, his fingers splaying out, his palm pressing against the gentle curve of muscle. He could feel Adam’s heartbeat even more strongly now, each beat a reminder of the warmth, the safety, and the longing he felt so acutely.

Lucifer had always admired Adam’s way of falling asleep so easily, no matter where they were. Adam could drift off anywhere, in the middle of any situation, with a trust that everything around him would work out. Lucifer had never had that kind of peace. There was a restlessness in him, a cold hollowness that felt as though it was etched into his very bones. Ever since he could remember, he’d felt different, as if he were missing some vital piece, some part of himself that would make him feel whole. It was a feeling that had gnawed at him for years, a creeping emptiness he couldn’t shake.

But with Adam, the edges of that hollow feeling softened. The emptiness seemed bearable, and he felt… alive. Whole, in a way that both soothed him and made him ache even more deeply. He longed to confess these feelings, to tell Adam the truth of the love he kept locked away, yet he never found the courage. Adam was his best friend, his one constant—and the thought of risking that friendship, of confessing something that might drive a wedge between them, was terrifying.

He felt Adam stir slightly beneath him, his heartbeat quickening for just a moment before slowing back down. As Lucifer rested his hand on Adam’s chest, feeling the warmth and life beneath his fingers, he allowed himself a rare vulnerability, a quiet confession to the darkness around them. He gazed down at Adam’s face, memorizing every detail, every angle, allowing himself to imagine—for just a moment—that Adam felt the same way.

Lucifer closed his eyes, pressing his palm more firmly against Adam’s chest, feeling the strong, steady rhythm beneath his hand. That heart had saved him more times than he could count, had pulled him back from the edge of loneliness and fear. Here, in the silence, it felt like the only sound in the world, and for this one night, it was enough.

Blue eyes opening again, Lucifer began to slid his hand back and forth, rubbing Adam’s chest. His fingers brushed against Adam’s nipple, feeling it beginning to harden under his fingertips. Lucifer slowly pulled back and tilted his head, gazing up into Adam’s face as he played with Adam’s nipple. He began to lift his other hand, cupping Adam’s other breast and squeezing gently, rubbing both nipples through his t-shirt.

Honestly, Lucifer would have never done this. He would have never had the courage too. But for some reason, he felt different. Being in Silent Hill, he felt like he was different.

Leaning forward, Lucifer parted his lips and licked at Adam’s hardening nipples through the t-shirt. He sucks softly, groaning as he heard Adam’s breathe hitch. His blue eyes became dazed as he played with them, his hands twitching with the urge to slip underneath the t-shirt.

A startled gasp escaped Lucifer as he pulled his hands away in shock.

What was he doing? He shouldn’t be doing that. Not to Adam. Not his Adam.

Rubbing his hot face, Lucifer buried his head back into Adam’s chest and clenched his eyes shut. Sleep. Sleep. Sleep. He chanted in his head. Sleep and don’t do anything!

No matter how hard Lucifer tried to forget about it, he still found himself thinking…

Adam’s nipples felt so nice on my tongue…

Adam’s eyes flew open, squinting against the soft morning light filtering in through the grimy hotel window. He let out a groan, arching his back until it cracked, trying to shake off the fog of sleep that still clung to him. Blinking, he surveyed the room, momentarily thrown by the strange surroundings, until the memories of last night crept back.

The cold, dusty room. The unsettling feeling of being watched. Lucifer…

Adam’s hand went instinctively to his hoodie, frowning as he noticed it had somehow come unzipped. He could’ve sworn he’d zipped it up tightly before they’d hunkered down, and he couldn’t shake the strange feeling that something had shifted overnight. That’s when it hit him—Lucifer was nowhere in sight. The spot beside him was empty.

A spike of panic shot through him, and Adam spun around the room, his gaze snapping to the door. The makeshift barricade they’d set up was partially displaced, the door cracked open just enough for Lucifer to have slipped through quietly in the night.

“Shit,” Adam muttered, rushing to the door and practically throwing himself through it into the corridor. Why would Lucifer leave? It didn’t make any sense. They’d both agreed it was safer to stay together.

"Lucifer!" Adam shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth as his voice echoed down the eerie, empty hallway. He strained to listen, waiting for any reply, but was met with a chilling silence. The only sound was a faint creaking from the floor above, like someone was slowly pacing or…running.

“Lucifer?” he called again, voice tight with worry as he sprinted down the corridor, reaching the staircase and taking the steps two at a time until he arrived at the sixth floor. His footsteps echoed, and a shiver ran down his spine as he noticed that, unlike the lower floors, this hallway was lined with enormous, imposing paintings instead of doors.

The paintings loomed on either side, all religious in theme—depictions of Jesus, Mary Magdalene, and saints—but there was something disturbingly distorted in the details. Each figure’s expression was exaggerated, eyes hollow and haunting. It felt like they were staring directly into his soul. Adam’s pace slowed as he took in each unsettling face, his gaze lingering on a massive painting labelled “666.” It portrayed a monstrous, twisted angel wreathed in black flames, its expression somewhere between agony and rage.

Just then, a blood-curdling scream cut through the air, echoing down the corridor and jolting Adam from his thoughts.

He spun around, shouting, “Lucifer?!” Panic laced his voice as he searched for the source of the scream.

It seemed to be coming from behind the “666” painting. Adam’s brow furrowed as he reached out, pressing his hand to the canvas, feeling along its edges. To his surprise, the outline of a hidden door lay just beneath the surface. He took a quick glance down the hall, then spotted a shard of broken glass nearby.

Without hesitating, he grabbed the glass, using it to slice a line down the painting’s centre. The material gave way, peeling back like a dark curtain and revealing a concealed door behind it.

As the canvas fell away, Adam stood before the hidden door, his heart pounding fiercely against his chest. The screaming had stopped as abruptly as it began, leaving an unnerving silence in its wake. He wrapped his fingers around the cold handle, hesitating for a fraction of a second before pulling it open. The door creaked, revealing a narrow, dim passage beyond, barely lit by the weak rays filtering through cracks in the walls. Dust danced in the stagnant air, swirling around as if disturbed by some unseen presence.

Adam swallowed, bracing himself as he stepped into the dark corridor. His mind raced with worry, images of Lucifer lost or hurt flashing through his thoughts. He clenched his fists. Why would Lucifer wander off alone? And where could he have possibly gone?

As he moved forward, the unsettling feeling of being watched grew, pressing down on him, but he pushed through it. Ahead, he glimpsed another door, its wood rotted and scarred. Carved into it was a crude engraving of the same twisted angel from the painting outside. Beneath it, words were scratched in haphazard, jagged lettering:

"Sins left unspoken. Souls left forgotten."

Adam stood just beyond the threshold of Room 666, staring into the yawning chasm that awaited him. The room had the desolate feel of a once-grand ballroom, stripped of all its former glory, and now opened into a blackened pit. The faint odor of charred wood and scorched metal hung in the air, with only a few skeletal remains of the floor left intact. Where walls and pillars once rose, there were now jagged platforms clinging precariously to the edges, each one groaning under even the smallest weight. Adam’s gaze flickered down, noting the precarious squeak of the platform beneath his feet. One wrong step, and he’d be swallowed whole.

With a cautious breath, Adam scanned the ruined expanse, his green eyes adjusting to the dim, heavy gloom. And then he saw him—Lucifer. The figure crouched across the vast drop, perched on another brittle ledge. His head was bowed, his platinum hair casting a soft glow in the shadows. Adam felt his breath catch.

“Lucifer?” he called softly, his voice echoing across the darkness.

At the sound, Lucifer’s shoulders tensed, his silhouette somehow smaller, as if retreating inward. Relief washed over Adam, his voice trembling with the weight of worry and a thread of hope. “Hang on… I’m coming to you.”

Adam’s eyes traced the exposed framework around them. Torn wires dangled like twisted vines, their ends sparking faintly in the darkness. Wrapping his hands around one, he tugged, testing its strength. It held firm—enough, he hoped, to bear his weight. He cast one last glance at Lucifer, steeling himself. “The things I do for you,” he murmured, trying to keep his tone light. But Lucifer gave no reaction, his silence stretching cold and empty.

Adam bit his lip, suppressing a pang of dread as he swung across, landing heavily on the opposite platform. His sneakers slipped on the charred surface, nearly sending him over the edge, but he steadied himself. Just a breath away now, he took in Lucifer’s form—crouched low, back to him, so still he could’ve been a statue. He looked… different. Smaller, more fragile somehow.

“Lucifer?” Adam whispered, voice soft and reassuring as he moved closer, bending down until he was nearly eye-level. “Hey… it’s okay. I’m here with you. You’re not alone.”

He reached out, fingers brushing against Lucifer’s shoulder, and felt the shudder that rippled through his friend’s body. Slowly, Lucifer lifted his head, turning to look at Adam. The movement was unnaturally stiff, his head snapping around with a predator’s precision. Adam’s breath hitched, his blood running cold as he locked eyes with the figure before him. Lucifer’s gaze was a shocking blaze of blood-red and gold, gleaming with a darkness that seemed to pulse in the shadows. His lips twisted upward in a smile that was both seductive and sinister, sharp teeth glinting beneath the soft glow.

Adam’s heart lurched. This isn’t him, he realized, his gaze dropping from Lucifer’s eyes to his outfit—no longer the oversized sweater and dark jeans, but something far more elegant, though distinctly inhuman. His best friend looked like a creature draped in an ethereal, almost otherworldly suit, stitched from shadows and something darker, something unknowable.

“L-Lucifer?” Adam’s voice cracked as he edged backward, careful not to stumble off the platform.

Lucifer grinned wider, his gaze trailing Adam with a predatory intensity, his movements sinuous as he advanced. Adam flinched, his back colliding with a twisted, jagged piece of metal. He was trapped, his escape cut off.

“Oh, Addie…” Lucifer’s voice slithered through the air, a sound like silk sliding over glass shards. His hands rose, long, clawed fingers stretching towards Adam. Those black claws traced the line of his jaw, the touch cold as ice yet burning against Adam’s skin. “You’ve come back… I always knew you would.”

Adam’s mouth opened, but no words came. His mind raced, but it was as if the shadows themselves were pressing down on his chest, stealing his voice. And then, in one swift movement, Lucifer leaned closer, his lips brushing over Adam’s. The touch was intoxicating, a kiss both tender and consuming, a union of hunger and desperation.

Adam felt Lucifer’s tongue, serpentine and invasive, slip past his lips. He gasped, feeling his heart pound with a mixture of fear and something darker, deeper, an emotion he couldn’t quite name. Helpless, he succumbed to the kiss, caught in the grasp of something that was both his friend—and something far beyond that.

Jumping, Adam’s eyes widened when Lucifer’s claws suddenly ran down his front. They gripped Adam’s chest tightly, his claws fondling Adam’s breasts before Lucifer pulled back with a grin. He yanked Adam’s t-shirt up, revealing his chest and delicious nipples.

“You’re so pretty~” Lucifer cooed, beginning to rub Adam’s nipples with purpose, “You still so pretty and lovely, Addie~”

“W-Wait, what – Ah!” Adam gasped as Lucifer pushed his knee forward, pressing it against the area between Adam’s legs.

“Addie, you’re still so bashful~” Lucifer whispered, lowering his head and allowing his long serpent tongue to slip out.

A whimper escaped Adam as Lucifer began to lick at his nipples, sliding his tongue back and forth. Tracing it was hunger before he took it into his mouth and sucking. All the time, Lucifer was rubbing his knee against Adam’s hardening cock.

Adam gasped as Lucifer’s kiss faded into empty air, his knees nearly buckling beneath him. His glassy eyes darted around, scanning the eerie, desolate pit. But the twisted, demonic vision of Lucifer had vanished, disappearing into the shadows as though he’d never been there.

Adam’s heart pounded in the hollow silence, his breath shaky as he whispered, “Lucifer…?”

His voice was a frail thread of hope, swallowed by the cavernous darkness around him.

Then, faintly, he heard it—a familiar voice, fragile yet achingly familiar, echoing softly. “Adam? Where are you?”

Adam perked up, clutching his chest as if the sound might disappear. Relief and confusion tangled within him, grounding him just enough to regain control of his legs. He gripped the hanging wire he’d used to cross the chasm, taking a moment to steady himself before carefully swinging back to the other side. He dared not glance back at the desolate pit, forcing himself to ignore the icy dread it left lingering in his bones.

He hurried down the narrow, decayed steps of the abandoned hotel, following the faint echoes of Lucifer’s voice as it led him forward. Bursting through the double doors into the crisp night air, he saw him—Lucifer, standing alone in the middle of the deserted street. The glow from the street lamps cast soft shadows over his familiar form, and for a second, Adam’s chest clenched with something like longing.

Lucifer turned sharply as Adam threw open the doors. For a brief moment, they simply stared at each other, Adam’s breath catching in his throat as he drank in the sight before him. It was truly Lucifer, his best friend, with the warm blue eyes that sparkled under the streetlights, wrapped snugly in his oversized, worn-out fuzzy sweater and leather jacket.

“Lucifer!” Adam called, his voice cracking with relief as he sprinted down the steps, closing the distance between them in a heartbeat. He threw his arms around Lucifer, pulling him into a fierce, desperate hug.

Lucifer jerked in surprise but quickly hugged him back, clutching him tightly as if afraid he’d vanish. He tilted his head up to look at Adam, brows knitting together in frustration. “Where were you? I woke up, and you were just… gone!” His voice trembled, laced with both irritation and the lingering echo of fear. “How could you just leave me like that?”

Adam’s eyes widened, his pulse racing. “What? No, Luci, you were gone when I woke up! I looked everywhere, and then I found—”

He paused, swallowing hard, struggling to push the vision of the other Lucifer out of his mind.

Lucifer’s eyes flickered with a mixture of confusion and fear, his brow furrowing as he shook his head.

“N-No… that’s not possible. I woke up, and… you weren’t there. The door was open, and I thought—” He trailed off, his voice catching, eyes darting briefly over Adam’s shoulder to the ominous hotel looming behind them.

Adam cupped Lucifer’s face gently, his thumb tracing the edge of his cheek.

“You’re here now. That’s what matters,” he whispered, his voice low but filled with a strange, newfound intensity. He realized he’d been trembling, his whole body humming with the memory of the other Lucifer’s claws and smile. He forced himself to focus on the warmth of the real Lucifer in his arms.

Lucifer blinked up at him, his gaze softening, the fear slowly melting from his expression.

“You scared me, Addie. Don’t do that again,” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper.

Adam took a shaky step back, his hand instinctively reaching out to grip Lucifer’s tightly. He gave his friend a weak but earnest smile, squeezing his hand as if to ground himself in the reality of Lucifer’s warmth. "I won’t leave you again. I promise."

Lucifer sniffed, eyes damp with relief as he looked up. "Then… let’s go. I want to get out of here, Adam. I want to leave Silent Hill behind."

“Me too,” he murmured.

Together, they set off, urgency fuelling each step as they retraced their path through the darkened, fog-drenched streets. Their footsteps echoed off the silent ruins, the unsettling quiet of the town feeling heavier with each stride, as though something watched from the shrouded windows and cracked walls.

Soot drifted through the sky like snow.

As they neared the town’s edge, Adam felt his pulse quicken, eager to put Silent Hill—and its horrors—behind them. But then, they stopped dead, horror seizing them both.

The road had been torn asunder. Where the street should have stretched on, there was now only a jagged cliff, yawning open like the mouth of some immense beast. Rocks and debris tumbled down into an endless darkness below, swallowed up without a sound. Silent Hill seemed to have devoured its own exit, sealing them in.

Adam’s heart pounded as he peered over the edge, his grip on Lucifer’s hand tightening.

“No… this can’t be,” he whispered, the hopelessness clawing at his chest.

Lucifer’s face paled, his blue eyes wide with disbelief. “Adam, what do we do?”

His voice trembled, and he looked back at Adam with a helplessness that broke Adam’s heart.

“We’ll find another way,” Adam said, though he could barely keep his own voice steady. “We have to.”

But even as he said it, the air around them grew colder, the fog thickening into an almost solid wall of mist. It pressed in, swirling around them like a shroud, obscuring everything but each other. Adam pulled Lucifer closer, their breaths mingling in the chilling air as they clung to the one familiar warmth.

“We’ll…we’ll figure this out.”

#hazbin hotel #adamsapple #lucifer x adam #fanfic #guitarduck #au #fanficiton #adamsapple month #adamsapple harvest #for adamsapple fans #adamsapple nipple play

27 notes · View notes