Word Count: 4,221
If Lance could say anything about his current predicament, he'd gladly go with the hard fact that he Hated decorating, and that's hated with a capital 'H'. He'd much rather be the one enjoying the decorations than being the one who suffers the headache of putting everything up in the first place only for the stuff to be torn down the second everyone leaves, all of that hard work just- just thrown in the trash like his hours of hard work meant nothing.
But.
If there was anything he hated more than decorating, it was decorating for a Halloween party. There were just so many decorations, it was almost as bad as helping his family decorate the house for Christmas (minus the tree, he always loved decorating the tree), if there was such a thing as Christmas parties that didn't involve dressing up in ugly sweaters in involved minimal decorating, he'd probably help decorate.
Probably, but not likely.
But Halloween? There were soooooo many decorations involved with Halloween, it was ridiculous.
Over the top.
Crazy.
And here's the best part: he wasn't even allowed to go.
What kind of torturous witchcraft was that?
A very crappy and agonizing one, that's for sure, Lance was almost positive if it hadn't been for the fact that he was helping decorate for his older sister's birthday/Halloween party, he wouldn't have even bothered with helping in the first place.
He'd much rather sit in his room, headphones in, tuning out the world while he tried out his new face cream before, most likely, putting it into his daily routine.
You know, important stuff like that
He'd much rather attend the parties he was actually allowed to go to, thank you very much, where he didn't have to decorate the crap out of the house before everyone got there.
Anything but this suffering.
He was only biding his time until Hunk got here to pick him up, he'd made arrangements the day before to go to a nearby haunted house along with Pidge and Keith. And then, if they weren't completely scared out of their wits, go over to Pidge's house until the party was over.
Which- from the looks of it, wouldn't be over anytime soon.
He was in for a very long wait.
As for what he was currently being forced to endure?
The dreaded job of trying to dig as far as he could into the storage closet (aka, the horror closet). There were probably bugs unknown to man hidden inside, and with his thin body currently shoved as far as he could go between two towers of boxes (he was not about to tear all of that down just to put it back again), he was left to blindly feeling for whatever he could manage to grasp and pull to the other side without tearing the whole closet apart.
It wasn't going very well so far.
Lance's fingers jerked as skin brushed against something clearly fabric, probably stuffed-
His thoughts came to a stop as he ran his hand across the thing, having a mild idea of what it might be before he gave an experimental tug-
Oh, and it was definitely heavy.
Crap.
He tried bracing his feet on the floor, before leaning back with all his might and pulled-
That- that might've not been the smartest decision.
Those two box towers he was crammed in between?
They fell.
Big plastic totes hit the ground with an earsplitting crash as they tumbled to the ground, and he winced as the shattering sound of glass sounded from one of them as he fell back onto the ground, hand still triumphantly grasping the life-sized zombie dummy, it's left arm hanging by threads, the plastic knives and fake gore covering the thing shining in the single, bulbed light above him.
The glass tinkled, muffled by the boxes.
Fuck.
Well-
Oops.
"Lance? You better not be breaking anything. Did you find something?"
Um, sure, sure, yeah, he totally didn't just break something-
"Yeah, I found the old stuffed zombie we used to wrestle with as kids, you want that?" He shouted back up, thanking every god he could think of for not letting him get crushed under the boxes now scattered on the floor as he carefully got back to his feet, dusting off his pants and grabbing the Halloween decoration with a firmer grip as he hoisted it under one arm before making his way to the closet door-
The glorious, glorious, door.
His ears strained to pick up Rachelle's shouted "Yeah" from upstairs, footsteps moving further into the house as Lance struggled to close the door behind him before then attempting to lug the zombie/dummy/thing up the stairs without tearing the thing's arm completely off (he was surprised it hadn't fallen off yet), finally deciding to hoist the musty-smelling thing over his shoulder to make it up the last few steps, catching sight of his sister stringing up the last of the cobwebs all over the spookified living room, he could see his mom place a few plastic spiders in the punch bowl in the kitchen, snacks already spread out over the counters, everything looking very Halloween-y.
"Did you guys know there's a body in the closet?" he asked in a neutral tone, watching his sister with a smirk as she whirled around with a confused expression before catching sight of the stuffed Halloween decoration, the confusion in her eyes quickly morphing into an amused glimmer at what was still hoised over one shoulder.
Lance didn't remember this thing being so heavy before-
"Well, since you found it, the body should go over there," Rachel chuckled, pointing to the nearby sofa, and Lance gratefully plopped the thing down with a sigh, arranging the arms neatly in its lap, its big zombie head drooping to one side.
It was good enough for him.
He finally plopped down next to the dummy with a sigh, neck straining as he pressed his head about as far as it would go into the cushion, closing his eyes. When was Hunk going to get here? He'd been hauling boxes for a while now, covering almost the entire house in spooky-themed spiders, snakes, and zombies to make the place look more fitting for a party (why did you think he was dying in that closet in the first place? Looking for Easter decorations?!).
Almost right on cue to his thoughts, the sound of a horn echoed from outside, Lance's head shot up to catch a glimpse of Hunk waiting for him, the minivan's lights shining as the sun continued to sink into the horizon, the sky alight with oranges and bright reds.
"Ma, Hunk's here!" he shouted over his shoulder, rushing to grab his jacket and sliding the fabric over his arms.
"¡Será mejor que vuelvas después de la fiesta de Rachel, hijo!" He caught his mother's shout from the kitchen.
"¡Lo haré mamá!" Lance shouted over his shoulder, slamming the door before another shout about helping decorate reached his ears, sprinting over the front yard before landing himself in the passenger seat, to a rush of warm air hitting his face as he slipped inside, the radio playing softly. Lance was just barely winded as Hunk quickly put the car into drive, charging out and away from the McClain house for the night.
He sighed in relief of finally going somewhere, sinking further into the soft seat, looking over to see Hunk's face tight, eyes worried, fingers tapping uselessly on the wheel, and he didn't have to wander far to guess his friend was still worried/terrified about going to a haunted house on Halloween night.
Oh well.
He'd agreed to go when Lance had come up with the idea in the first place, offering to invite Keith and Pidge and even hang out afterward if he'd come. They'd make it a group thing, ya know? That way it wouldn't just be the two of them, it wasn't Lance's fault he was still scared about going-
"You ready for this?" He shot a mischievous grin in his friend's direction.
Hunk swallowed thickly, taking another turn before the teen shook his head, "I don't know, man, I mean, some of these haunted houses are scary."
Lance snorted, "Yeah, that's kinda the point, buddy, it's all a bunch of masks and face blood anyway. Look if you go through this house with us, I promise you can pick out all the movies we watch when we get to Pidge's alright? You good with that?"
He watched Hunk's expression carefully, the teen's lower lips sucking into his mouth as he thought it over before giving a tentative nod, brown eyes still wide as he pulled into the drive of the only scary haunted house walk in town, "O-okay, yeah, alright."
Lance smiled, "That's the spirit, patting his best friend on the shoulder, besides, you know it's only costumes, right? People get paid to scare us, it's nothing but a hoax."
"Yeah, yeah," the Hawaiian shook his head, putting the van in park and waving his hand. A quick glance out the windshield told Lance Pidge was already waiting for them near the front (on her phone, obviously, Lance couldn't even remember a time where her phone wasn't in her hands, or at the very least, on her), a quick glance around told Lance Keith was nowhere to be found- "I know, but don't expect me to stick around at the first sign of trouble, Lance."
The Cuban rolled his eyes, "Of course, Hunk, of course."
They got out in a clamor of slamming doors, the horn giving a slight beep as Hunk locked the car before shoving the keys deep in his pocket, shoes sliding through the muddy parking lot as they made their way to Pidge's side, the girl not once looking up from the screen.
At least the downpour from earlier in the day had stopped, now puddles littered the ground, the remaining water left on the roof making pitter-pattering sounds in the gutter as gravity took over, pulling it back to the soil.
Lance's phone vibrated in his fingers as he pulled the device out, the screen lighting up with a text telling him Keith was on his way
Great.
The team was almost ready.
A few minutes more of standing in the chilly air and Lance could catch the slight jerking of headlights as a car pulled into the muddy/rocky parking lot, gravel crunching under the tires as the vehicle slowed to a stop, and Lance could almost catch a glimpse of a mullet through the closest window before the passenger side opened with a groan.
He just barely caught the sight of Shiro sitting in the driver seat before the door slammed shut with a loud bang, the passenger window sliding down with a low whirr the second it closed and Lance watched Shiro attempt to look him in the eyes, leaning over the middle console to better see him, "You guys are headed to Matt's after this, right?" He asked.
Lance nodded an affirmative. Matt's house Pidge's house, it was the same thing either way, "Yeah, we'll be crashing at his house until my sister's party is over, Keith's still cool with coming over, right?"
The man nodded, "Yeah, just as long as he texts me when he gets there," he said, fixing eyes on Keith for that sentence, and Lance caught the pale teen's groan, violet eyes rolling.
"Seriously, Shiro, I'll be fine, I swear-"
"I know, but I still want you to call me when you're done."
Lance looked over in time to see Keith blanch, "But, I thought you said I had to text you-"
"And it'll be call and text unless you promise me you'll do it-"
"Shiro-"
"Keith."
The teen finally groaned, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets, "Fine, okay, yeah, I'll call you when we get to Matt's, are you happy now?"
Shiro grinned and nodded, straightening back into his seat, the window rolling back up as the car pulled back out of the parking lot. The vehicle rumbling as the sound faded into the air.
Lance watched Keith finally turn to the rest of the group, grumbling something under his breath as he picked his way through the puddle-ridden lot before coming to a stop beside them.
"It took you long enough, what was the holdup?" Pidge spoke, shoving her phone into her back pocket to look at him, a finger moving to robotically push up her glasses, the lenses gleaming in the nearby streetlight.
He watched as the teen shrugged, fingers going to his hoodie pocket, the outline of the thing clearly not a phone and Lance watched with a confused frown at the pale teen's hands clearly grasped at something tightly in his hoodie pocket.
Hunk beat him to asking about it.
"Hey, man, what's that?" A finger pointing to whatever was in the pocket.
Keith didn't look over at the large teen, just wordlessly pulled out what looked to be a steak knife from his pocket, Hunk taking a step back with widening eyes as he caught sight of it.
"Keith, you brought a knife?"
The pale teen quirked a brow as if he'd done this multiple times before, "Yeah? So?"
"You brought a knife."
"You already said that, Hunk."
"Yeah, you aren't supposed to play with knives, Keith!"
Lance pffted, turning to his best friend, resisting the urge to grab his stomach and bend over in laughter, even still leaning over a little as he looked at his friend's expression, "Really, Hunk? You sounded almost exactly like Shiro."
Hunk raised a confused brow at the Cuban's reaction, "Yeah, so? I'm just saying it isn't safe to play with knives, what's so wrong with that?"
"Dude," he swallowed back another laugh, straightening up from where he found himself bending over, "it's Keith, I'm honestly surprised it took Mullet this long to pull it something like that out even with you asking."
His eyes shifted to Keith who was still clutching the knife in one hand, a scowl on his face as he glared in Lance's direction, "Whatever, it's not my fault you guys didn't come prepared."
"Prepared?" Lance echoed, "Mullet, it's a haunted house, a fake one at that, the second you start flashing knives as them, the guys that are trying to scare us are gonna freak out."
"So?"
"So, don't pull out a knife the second someone jumps you, we'll get kicked out of here and we won't be able to come back."
"Is that really such a bad idea though?" Hunk voiced, fiddling with his fingers, Pidge smirking beside him, arms crossed, "I mean, do we really have to go in there?"
Lance gasped, his face morphing into one of complete and utter betrayal at his friend's words, placing a hand on his chest, "Hunk, you promised!"
The teen blanched, "Yeah, but that was before I actually thought about it!"
"You don't need to think, it's a haunted house, we'll be through it before you know it."
"And if we don't make it through it?"
"Then we'll already be dead so we don't have to worry about it."
Hunk's near-silent squeal of surprise had Lance fighting back his laugh at the sight of his friend's face, "Oh come on, hermano, nothing's gonna be real, see?" He stuck out a hand towards the front door of the house, fake cobwebs and giant plastic spiders decorating the yard and porch, "There's legit nothing to be scared of."
"Actually, there are plenty of things to be scared of, did you know some haunted houses are actually haunted? Or- or that some haunted houses have you actually sign an agreement to them hurting you? Or that it could be so dark inside that one of us trips and falls and breaks something? There's plenty of things to worry about!"
Lance suppressed the urge to roll his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest, shaking his head as he opened his mouth, "None of that's going to happen, Hunk, you worry too much."
"No, you don't worry enough."
"Exactly!"
"Alright," Pidge walked between them, "are we going in or not? I'm not going to stand here while you two argue, I'm only here because my dad wants me to hang out with friends more, and I'm not going to waste my time with you two going at each other."
"We aren't arguing, we're having a normal conversation, right Hunk?"
"No, I'm only saying-"
"Alright, we get it," Keith crossed his arms, the knife clearly back in his hoodie pocket, "you both can't stand each other and there's no point in doing this, can we leave now?"
"No," Lance practically hissed, fists clenching before he moved, taking a step towards the door, then another, and another until he was stepping up the stairs, the wood groaning under his weight as he made it onto the porch, his hand hitting the cool metal of the handle, the door opening (very creakily, he might add) to a living room setup, a small desk sitting to one side of the room, a woman sitting behind it, typing rapidly on a computer, not looking up as they filed into the small room.
The door slammed shut behind them.
She looked up.
And Lance nearly lost it as he caught sight of her face.
The left side of her head had been smeared in blood, skin sticking out from it, blood dripping down her cheek, hair matted and still soaked wet to the point of sheening red in the lamplight.
Oh, um, that's- that's some pretty cool makeup.
Yeah, yeah, it's very, very cool.
Hunk's muffled squeal of surprise beside him spoke differently.
"Can I help you?" the lady spoke, looking between Lance and the rest of their small group with disinterest, the lack of typing in the air as they stepped forward nearly unnerving.
Nearly, not completely.
"Uh, y-yeah," he stuttered (why did he stutter? What was wrong with him, it was just makeup), hand reaching for his pocket as he pulled out the money they needed to get in, before placing the wad of cash on the counter, thin fingers reaching to count the bills before shoving the money into a box and waving towards the only other door in the place, "Have fun, you're allowed to leave anytime if it becomes too much."
Lance swallowed thickly, forcing out a shaky laugh, "Thanks."
Despite the obvious act, the woman smiled, winking, the blood on her face catching the light at the motion, making Lance's stomach roll anew- "Anytime."
Lance let out a nervous chuckle, reaching for the new door, the wood painted a faded white, the hinges creaking as it swung open to reveal a dimly lit hallway, a single bare bulb shining in the middle as they made their way inside, the door closing softly behind them, dirty, peeling wallpaper surrounding them.
And, of course, Hunk took the first step of looking down.
"Why- why is there so much blood?"
He wasn't overexaggerating.
As Lance's eyes adjusted to the dim light, he could see traces of fake gore painting the walls and dotting the floor.
It was pretty macabre.
"Pidge? Pidge are you scared?" Hunk's nervous voice cut through the silence as they made their slow walk to the end of the hall.
"No."
He could imagine his friend's brows rising at the quick and snappy reply, "Are you sure? Not- not even a little bit?"
"Shh," Lance butt in before a conversation could start up, one mocha hand already resting on the handle to the next room, interrupting them both, "We haven't even started the real fun yet, Hunk."
"Yeah, but-"
He opened the door with a creak.
It was pitch black inside.
Lance's heart lept to his throat without his consent.
He took a step forward anyway. His eyes caught the sights of a bright red exit sign sitting across the room, hovering over a door Lance couldn't make out in the darkness another door sat to their far left, light illuminating through the cracks.
The door behind them slammed shut, the sound echoing through the room, and a glance behind him told him no one had touched it as they filed in.
Hunk squeaked.
Lance cleared his throat, turning back to the empty room- "Um, hel-"
He screeched as something appeared out of the darkness, a dim, flickering flashlight illuminating the gorey face of a girl, her hair pulled up in pigtails, blood streaking down from her hairline, from her mouth, from her eyes, it- it looked so real. Her eyes nothing but big black orbs embedded into her skull.
Pidge gasped.
Lance slammed his mouth shut.
It sounded like Hunk just swallowed his tongue, unable to even make a sound.
And Keith-
"Fuck this, I'm out of here-" His familiar shadow from the dim light of the room moved towards the exit, only for another shadow to emerge, this one the sight of an old man, the blood and sight much like the little girl, flashlight flickering violently-
Hunk screamed.
Keith pulled something from his pocked- fuck, the knife- and swung it through the air, Lance thanking every god he knew of that the sharp metal didn't hit anything before the pale teen broke into a sprint towards the door, meeting no resistance as he fled.
Lance blanched, they weren't even five minutes in- "Fuck, no KEITH GET BACK HERE!"
"Fuck you, Lance!" Keith shouted back, hand already on the handle, the streetlights flooding into the small room as Keith opened the door and was gone-
"Keith, wait up!" A small form Lance realized was Pidge scurried towards the exit as growls and whispered words began echoing through the room.
And the exit door slammed shut-
And everything went quiet again.
It was just him and Hunk now, but only because Lance had kept a firm grip on the large teen's wrist, both of their breaths coming out in pants despite the fact they had stayed put-
"L-Lance, can we go now-"
"No, Hunk, we gotta keep going-" he did not just fork all that money over for them to not make it through the end-
Someone laughed as something scrabbled through the darkness towards them on all fours-
They both screeched as they made a break towards the next door, meeting no resistance as they slammed the door shut, both of them breathing heavily by this point, Lance's heart beating out of his chest-
"Uh, Lance?" There was a tap on his shoulder, Hunk suddenly sounding very sick-
Lance turned-
And indeed swallowed his tongue.
Hunk hadn't been the one tapping him on his shoulder-
It was a foot-
Attached to a body hanging limp from the ceiling.
Lance dared to look further up, the blinding light from the room doing little to mask the dozen or so bodies swinging lifelessly by thick ropes wrapped around their necks, some attached to the ceiling fan spinning around and around lightly, all of their faces purple and puffy, drops of blood falling from their mouths and dripping to the floor, eyes wide open and blank-
Lance's stomach lurched.
"L-Lance, can we-"
"Yes."
Thanks to the bare light of the room, they sprinted towards the exit situated across the room, ducking between limp legs and feet, not even glancing at the next door to the house, the cool night air hitting his skin as they stumbled outside and down the three steps to the solid ground below them-
Hunk bent over, puking onto the grass the moment he hit the ground.
Lance only fell to his knees, panting.
Fuck.
That was the shortest haunted house of his life.
He- he wanted his damn money back.
"Really? You guys didn't even last ten minutes in there by yourselves," he caught Keith's snort and Lance looked up to see the teen crossing his arm, a stupid smirk set on his pale face-
He got back to shaky feet, balling his fists as he stepped merely inches away from the teen, nearly chest to chest, "Oh yeah? Says the guy who ran out on the first room."
Keith scowled, his face going red, "I didn't run, the place was boring, I was leaving."
Lance scoffed, "Oh, of course, so sorry your sorry ass didn't want to see the rest of the place if it was so boring," he mocked, resisting the very strong urge to sock him in the jaw.
"Well, why didn't you since you were the only person who wanted to do this in the first place?"
"Because it was fucking scary alright? Are you happy now?" He yelled, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration.
Keith smirked, taking a step back, "Very."
"Okay, I don't know about you guys, but can we just leave now?" Hunk questioned, wiping the remaining vomit from his face before getting back to shaking legs, the teen still looking very green.
"Yeah, I'm with Hunk on this one, can we leave now? It's freezing out here," Pidge added, arms wrapped tightly around herself, and Lance finally deflated, stepping away from Keith with a sigh.
"Yeah, let's get out of here, this place is lame anyway."
"You wish."
"Oh, shut up, Keith."