It's Us Crew Oneshots

The Haunted House of Yellow St. (part one) [D-Gang Oneshot]

     Don looked at the wide house, the windows reminding him of several, wide, rectangular eyes. He squinted. "This place looks stupid," he said, and Richard nodded hastily.

     "Yeah it does," said Richard. "We shouldn't waste our time here. I just want to go home and sleep in my own bed."

     Dashlie stifled a snicker, and she looked away when Richard scowled at her. Don smirked at Richard's nervousness and pushed off the fence, approaching the taller man and wrapping his arm around Richard's shoulders. "Aw, don't be scared, Dick," he said, booping the raven-haired man's nose and making Richard glare. "I'll protect you."

     Richard shoved Don off him, face a slight shade of red from embarrassment and rage. "I don't need you to protect me!" Richard hissed. "I already told you: I'm not scared!" Suddenly, a sharp meow was heard, making Richard yelp and jump slightly. Everyone laughed at his expense as a black cat slunk out from the shadows and paused in the street lamp light. Richard froze up as the cat approached him and rubbed against his distressed jeans. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no—"

     "Dude, it's just a cat," Don said as Richard remained rigid while the cat purred.

     "I don't like cats. And this is a black cat! It's bad luck!"

     Dashlie bursted out laughing. "You are, too, scared!" she guffawed. "And don't even try to defend it! You look like you're going to piss your pants, and we haven't even gone through the gates yet!"

    Richard loosened up as the cat stalked away and disappeared into the night. He turned and glared at everyone, unamused. "F-Fine! Okay! I-I am scared! But can you blame me? I mean, did you hear what Duni said about the place — what we all know about the place?! I'm not going in there."

     But Don and Dashlie insisted he walked in first, promptly pushing the man through the creaking gates and onto the pathway leading into the overgrown yard. DDawn slipped past them and adjusted his tie while Richard yelled at Don and Dashlie. "Quit your arguing, imbeciles," snapped the robot. "I for one do not believe the place is haunted like people intel. I just think some idiots really let their imagination get to them. So shut up, all of you, and get a move on!" Duni lead the way to the illuminated front porch of the mansion while Don, Richard, and Dashlie exchanged annoyed glances about DDawn's usual rude behavior.

"Why's the porch light on, anyways? Isn't this place supposed to be a hundred years old?" Don questioned while Duni searched for a way to unlock the front door. Richard stood to the side, his world spinning as he hoped Duni wouldn't find the way in.

"It is odd," noted DDawn with a nod of acknowledgement. "However, it's entirely possible someone comes around from time to time, turning on the light to scare people or something."

"Seems like a stretch," Dashlie hummed. Just then, Duni let out a cry of triumph, finding a rusty key hidden behind a spider-infested, potted plant. He turned to everyone as he inserted the key into the lock.

"Brace yourselves," Duni said, and began to slowly count down from ten until Don got annoyed and snapped at him to get on with it already. Duni huffed and mumbled halfhearted insults at him before turning the key and opening the creaky door.

It was only a little bit cooler inside than it was outside, and the musty smell of mildew and mothballs washed over the group's senses as they entered. In the foyer, a large staircase with cracked floorboards led upstairs, and a large chandelier dangled from the marble ceiling. Don eyed the chandelier's crystal ends nervously. The decoration looked as thought it'd collapse at any second. Duni led the group to the left down the hallway, ignoring the dinning room and entering into the living room through a stubborn door. The living room was a bit more welcoming than what the others saw while traveling down the hallway, the only unsettling thing being a large painting of a woman over the fireplace. The living room was fairly large in width, and the rug that sat beneath the two dusty couches in the center of the room nearly covered the entire floor, spare for the lonely desk at the back of the room, whose only company was a body-length mirror and an American flag, which hung lazily on the wall.