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deejadabbles · 1 year

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The House of Anubis (Atem x Reader Halloween special)

Part Four: The Darkness

One //// Two //// Three //// Four //// (Five coming soon) ///

Summary: The house was large, a manor, really. Imposing, yet striking more aw with every turn of a corner. You had never thought you’d be dragged back into the family business, but your brother needed you, and so too did his latest project. It stood alone among the trees, yet, you never felt alone when inside. Hairs prickle on the back of the neck, shivers run down spines, and hands fidget with every unoccupied moment. And the thing- or rather, person, who simultaneously eases and worsens these feelings? Atem, a man who was just as mercurial as the house itself, all smirks and light comments one moment, then lingering stares and strange musings the next. So the real question remains, will you uncover the secrets both the man and the manor are harboring?(A Halloween mini-series inspired by the show ‘The Haunting of Hill House’ and the movie ‘The Frighteners’. The Reader x Atem themes are, admittedly, light as this mostly focuses on a spooky haunted house story, but the romantic undertones are there. Gender-neutral reader.)

A.N. Okay, how many of you wanna take bets on whether or not I'll actually finish this before Halloween of next year? I'll try my best, but for some reason, all I seem to get motivated to do is one chapter every Halloween -.- Maybe the next one being the last will motivate me! Either way, I hope you guys like the new chapter, and have a good Halloween!

...

The woods, seven years ago.

All the horror movies were true.

All the scenes of children tucked into bed, holding their breaths in fear at the shadows on their walls. All the images of branches reaching out like skeletal fingers, ready to rake and claw at unsuspecting victims who thought they were tucked away safe in their homes.

Those scary movies her older sister were obsessed with had perfectly captured the visage of old gnarled trees casting terrifying shadows. That was all Clare could think as they drove through the thick forest.

“You really think it’s a good idea to go out this far?” she asked, only now barely able to rip her gaze away from the barren branches reaching out for their car. “Haven’t you listened to those pod casts about people going missing on the backroads because of hill billy psychos?”

Jon, one hand on the steering wheel, one holding a contraband cigarette courtesy of his mother’s purse, actually scoffed. “There you go again, told ya she’d chicken out right before we got there!”

“I’m not-” Clare grit her teeth, “I’m just saying we should be careful! Heck, not even about axe murderers, you know how many people get into car wrecks from deer and shit jumping in front of them on roads like these?”

“Stop being an dick, Jon, she’s just worried your shitty driving is gonna to land us in a ditch,” came Dylan’s voice from the seat behind her. She heard a shift and his head came peeking between her and Jon. “Where are you even taking us?”

After taking another drag of the cig, and passing it to Dylan Jon said, “Let’s just say it’s not inbred machete maniacs that we have to worry about.” Taking his eyes off the road, he gave Clare that look. The look he got in their kindergarten class right before nap time, the look he used when their backyard bonfires lit up his face in an eerie glow, the look before he jumped out at an unsuspecting friend. “We’re going to an actual haunted mansion.”

Dylan groaned throwing himself back into his seat, “Yeah fucking right, there’s just a mansion sitting out in the middle of the woods? Come on, man, you spent all of middle school dragging us to cemeteries and abandoned buildings, I thought you were done with this.”

“This is for real, dude! It really is a creepy ass old mansion,” Jon started digging around in the small space between his seat and the center console, “and, get this, the old dude who owned it, died mysteriously a couple months ago.” He withdrew a piece of paper that Clare recognized as one of their town’s desperate attempts to cling to the past. “Read it yourself!”

After getting it shoved into her hands, Clare glared as she unwrinkled the newspaper clipping. The small article did indeed tell about some professor who died in his family home, but…

“A heart attack?” Clare rolled her eyes, “An elderly man dying of a heart attack is ‘mysterious’?”

“It says right there that he was in perfect health, though!” Jon insisted, but interrupted himself with an “oh shit” as he jerked his wheel to avoid missing a turn in the road.

Now with the trees more sparse than the dense decrepit woods from before, Clare felt a little more at ease. This was all just another one of Jon’s poor attempts to scare them, she hardly had to worry.

“Look,” Jon continued after straightening out his car, “my uncle says he knew the guy who died, and that he was starting to get all weird in the end. Talking nonsense, locking himself away in the mansion more than usual, and, warning people never to come visit him at his house. Dude went nuts like a professor in a Lovecraft story!”

Again Dylan’s head hovered between the front seats, “Doesn’t seem a little…you know, disrespectful or- or ghoulish to go through this dead guy’s house? He obviously had mental issues.”

“God damn, you two are no fun,” Jon accentuated his claim by blowing a raspberry.

And, given that he wasn’t careful to watch the road while he rambled about ghost hunting adventures, Clare took it upon herself to watch the road for him. The night sky was at least visible now, and the full moon overhead gave her some comfort. Ha, a full moon, that must have been why he chose tonight in particular to practically drag them out of bed with no warning just short of midnight.

She was just thinking about telling Jon to watch the road better when something made her stiffen. She saw it in the corner of her eye first, a flash, a spark, and she felt her chest hold back a gasp as her head whipped to the right. Clare leaned forward, trying to see past Jon’s head as she scanned the trees for, what, she wasn’t sure.

“Hey, what’s up?” Dylan nudged her arm, seeing her search through the darkness.

She swallowed. “I…I don’t know I think I saw something-”

A squeal of tires as she slid forward, her elbow making painful contact with the dashboard when the car came to a hard stop.

“Ow! What the hell, Jon!?” In a rare fit of anger, she punched Jon in the arm, before using the same hand to cradle her sore elbow.

To his credit, the driver actually did sound sincere when he said, “Sorry! Sorry, I think I missed the driveway, so I panicked.”

Dylan muttered “driveway?” under his breath as he twisted to look out the back window. “Holy shit, you’re right, I think it’s right there.”

Clare squinted her eyes at where he was pointing, though her view from the passenger front wasn’t great. In the moonlit dark, she thought she could just barely make out a mailbox on the roadside.

Before another word, Jon wrestled his junk-on-wheels car into reverse and veered into the opposite lane as he backed up. There it was, on the same side of the road where she thought she saw something in the trees: a long, unlit, winding driveway.

Jon had that look again, that smile, and he wiggled his eyebrows at them before turning into the driveway.

Despite herself, Clare swallowed hard. The twenty-year-old headlights of the rusted Toyota only cut through the shadows for a few feet, and again she felt like the darkness and trees were pressing in on them. Thankfully, the rocky path wasn’t as long as she had thought, because the woods soon broke into a clearing. There on the right, it stood, probably the biggest house she had ever seen in person, and that included the mayor’s place.

Towers, arching windows, vines woven over brick, it looked like it belonged on the cover of her sister’s old gothic romance books. Moonlight made some of the windows glint in the dark, and Clare realized that that must have been what she saw in the trees earlier.

“Hold shit,” Jon mumbled, “Uncle Tim wasn’t kidding, it’s fucking awsome!”

“And you’re sure no one still lives here? Like the dude's wife or something?” Dylan asked.

“Nope. My uncle said he just has a granddaughter left, and she lives in LA doing computer science shit.” With that, Jon killed the engine and popped open his door, leaving them both to do the same as he approached the house.

The front porch added to the spooky air, no doubt. Spiderwebs in every corner, wicker seats toppled over, and to top it all off: a rocking chair creaking in the night breeze. The old wood steps groaned and a blanket of leaves crunched underfoot as they walked up to the large front door. Immediately, Jon grabbed the handle and turned it hard.

Nothing happened, besides Jon banging his shoulder on the dark wood.

“Come on, you didn’t actually think they’d leave it unlocked, did you?” Clare teased as she turned to the arched, paned glass dotting the front of the house. “Maybe we could try a window?”

Jon gave one last annoyed look at the door before nodding. Dylan had already gone to the closest one, moving the broken wicker furniture to get close enough. A mighty lift, but the glass didn’t budge.

“Dude, give me a hand,” he waved at Jon and they were standing shoulder to shoulder, trying their damndest to slide it up.

While they heaved and pulled, Clare wandered back to the door. There was a fan-shaped pane of glass near the top, so she pressed herself against the wood and stood on her tiptoes. The view was hazy, dust or maybe the glass was simply warped from age, and the moonlight through the windows didn’t help too much. From what little she could see, the door opened into a large entry hall of sorts, and, if she squinted, she thought she could make out a large staircase.

A shadow in the darkness shifted. Clare felt her heart skip a beat, eye’s frozen on the spot where she swore the light from the window wasn’t shining. She made herself look behind her, at the trees surrounding the clearing, and gave a sigh of relief when she realized it must have been the branches swaying in the path of the moonlight.

She leaned back on her heels and turned towards the boys, who were still trying to open the same window. “Guys, I think you should try another-”

Click.

The creak of old wood filled her ears, as the door beside her opened.

It only stood ajar an inch or two, and she didn’t see anyone on the other side, but it still caused her to take a step back.

“Awesome! How’d you get it open?” Dylan asked as he and Jon came to her side.

Again, Jon wasted no time in taking the lead, he grabbed the edge of the door and pushed it open. They could practically hear his eyes go wide, “Holy shit!”

Clare tried to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat as Dylan crossed the threshold. It…it must have been unlocked the whole time, and just got stuck like old doors did. Yes, yes that had to be it. And it finally opened after she leaned on it for so long.

With that thought to calm her, she followed her friends. They took cautious steps inside, surrounded by old walls and creaking floorboards. She was right, it did open into an entry hall, with a grand staircase on the other side, but this wasn’t anything like the old houses they saw in movies.

“It looks like a set for The Mummy.” Dylan ran his hand over the thick layer of dust covering the sand-colored depictions of hieroglyphs and ancient gods.

“Yeah, Uncle Tim said the guy was some sort of Egyptologist. Guess he was waaaay obsessed with his job.”

Clare took her index finger and traced the face of a winged woman. “I thought you said he only passed away a couple months ago,” she asked, frowning at the dust coating her fingertip.

Jon shrugged, “Maybe he wasn’t big on dusting.” He turned and wandered to the doorway on the left side of the hall. “Man, he’s got even more Egypt stuff in here!”

Clare heard Dylan walking over to where Jon stood, but she was still transfixed by the wall. Something cold ran up her back like an icy spider, making her want to wrap her arms around herself. She turned to look behind but found nothing, just open, dusty space.

The chill didn’t stop at her spine though, it slithered down her arms till she started rubbing them through her hoodie.

Creak.

She heard it above her, and her eyes snapped to the ceiling.

Thud.

“Guys,” her call came out a hoarse cry, “Guys, I think someone’s upstairs!”

The boys, who had barely gotten to the next room, turned to face her again, “Huh?”

She was still watching the ceiling, listening, straining to see or hear any sign to tell her she wasn’t overreacting. The ceiling, web coated and peeling, was dark, and she blinked when she thought he saw a section of it…swelling.

No, her eyes weren’t seeing things in the dark, a tile in the bronze ceiling was swelling like a bubble. She watched as it got bigger and bigger- then screamed when it split open to reveal a large bloodshot eye.

Clare fell to the ground, still screaming as she crawled back backwards to the door, watching as the eye got bigger and the bulge in the ceiling slid like dripping ooze to the closest wall. The boy’s were calling her name, and just as they began pulling her to her feet something large on the stairs fell with a deafening bang.

Even with that and her screams, they still heard it.

“What are you doing here!?”

The deep, almost inhuman voice caused their heads to snap towards the staircase.

There, on the landing, back lit up by the marvelous stained glass, was a man with wild hair and eyes that seemed to pierce the darkness.

“Get. Out.” His voice was as deadly as a snake’s hiss, and even Jon gripped the doorway as he backed away. “Get Out! Now!” the figure roared.

They didn’t need to be told a third time. Dylan had a firm grip on Clare as they scrambled across the porch and down the stairs. An arm’s length from the car they heard that same baritone call out to them again: a warning.

“Never speak of what you saw here tonight.”

Jon didn’t even bother putting the car in reverse, and did the sharpest U turn of his life, peeling out of the driveway as if the devil himself were on their heels.

Atem watched them go, still standing sentinel at the top of the stairs.

Then his eyes snapped to the bubbling thing that had slid its way across the wall to the front door. The frame of a skeletal hand was visible under the wallpaper, reaching out in hunger at the meal that had gotten away.

Atem’s anger flared anew.

He was not a cruel man, even scaring those children hadn’t pleased him, but for that thing, he could find no mercy. Especially after Arther.

“If you think,” he took a step down the stairs, “that after everything you’ve put my friend through,” another step, “that I would ever let you harm another innocent,” his foot clicked against a hard floor, “then you are sorely mistaken.”

Atem was not a cruel man, but for the darkness infesting this house, he had no mercy.

The front door slammed shut on the creature's screams.

The manor, present day.

Music was never something that the old thief Alexander Hawkins had indulged in often, only when company graced his house did he allow his wife to fill their halls with the croon of a radio or record. Even his son Arther, who quite liked the birth of rock and roll, rarely turned the volume high. Today though, today a pair of siblings played a scratched up CD as loud as their old paint-stained stereo would allow.

Your head nodded along with your favorite track as the song blared against the tile walls. You remembered this setlist well, it was one of the first mixes your dad bad copied for you and your brother: a rite of passage in helping him with his work.

Laying tile was one of the few tasks you had struggled with when learning your family’s craft, making sure every square was ruler straight, pipping the grout just thick enough that there weren't layers and layers of clean up. It had taken many bathrooms and kitchens less grand than this to get proficient at all that.

So, the professional work you were doing now filled you with some pride.

The downstairs bath had been in desperate need of new tiles- both on the ground and the wall, and a road trip to some antique furniture stores in the area had yielded the perfect replacement pieces. The gold imitation of marble tied in well with the decor of the rest of the downstairs, lavish enough to not feel like an afterthought, but not so garish that the small space might make you cringe.

Unfortunately, your music was drowned out for a moment, the scream of a saw whirring down the hall as your brother finished cutting the tile needed for the edges of the room. When the sound died down again a new song was playing and at first you started humming along again; but when the lyrics started, the tune made you pause.

Usually, you paid no mind when this, one of your brother’s favorite songs, popped on, but today, in this particular house…

You flicked the little dial on the side of the radio, turning the volume down to a murmur as you turned back to your work.

In truth, the day spent shopping had been a much needed excuse. The last day you spent in this house, the day you had stayed till nightfall, had shaken you and your brother more than either of you wanted to admit. And the worst part was, looking back, you couldn’t even say why that night had scared you so much. Nothing had…happened, not really. Neither of you had said anything about the strange feeling of urgency felt when leaving the house, the sudden sensation that something was wrong.

Even still, the next morning your brother had suggested the shopping trip, as if the bathroom were some pressing issue that needed mending by the end of the week. Not that you complained, a day away from the House of Anubis was welcomed by that point. Something about this place just felt…heavy at times.

“Blasphemy, kiddo! One does not turn down the volume on Don't Fear the Reaper.”

Big brother had come back down the hall and set the bag of freshly cut tile by the door before he leaned down and turned the volume back up.

“I couldn’t hear it over the saw anyway,” you countered, and he put his hand over his heart dramatically.

“Well, see if I try to make myself useful again with that attitude!”

A playful roll of your eyes and you went back to your work. He did make himself useful again by refilling your drink from your stash in the kitchen, which was nice. It was almost completely drained again by the time you were finally done with the tile but at least the work was done.

Needing a break from the damp muddy smell of grout and that strange oppressive air of the house in general, you told him you were stepping outside while he mixed the paint for your next job.

Instead of going down the little hallway that led back to the entry hall, you took the door that opened into the study, then the next door that got you into the conservatory. Green was still bursting to life in every free space of the glass-domed room, and you made a mental note to double-check that there weren’t any vines digging into the rest of the house when you got the chance.

The glass doors at the front of the conservatory opened to a small side porch with a nice view of the woods. Said trees were beautiful this time of year, your view was an endless ombre of reds and oranges and yellows. The crisp autumn air filled your chest as you took in a deep, cleansing breath and closed your eyes.

After letting the cool breeze wash over your face for a while, you took a step out into the yard and looked up at the house, letting your gaze travel across it. There was a small balcony where the glass roof of the conservatory met the rest of the house, connected to the master suite.

As you gazed over the upstairs windows, you noticed that the outside walls had some strange angles to them, ones you hadn’t noticed when staying the night in the master room all that time ago. You found yourself tilting your head in confusion, no, that wall shouldn’t jut out like that. Maybe the room next door, but…hold on, that wasn’t right either…how could…

You were unceremoniously drawn out of your reverie by the sound of a car door slamming shut.

A blink as your mind traded one confused train of thought for another and you turned your head towards the sound. A car? Then the thought of Atem crossed your mind. Perhaps he had finally recovered from his mysterious illness and had come back to see you.

Though, you didn’t ever remember seeing him use a car.

The trek through the overgrown grass beside the house was a bit much, but you soon made your way to the side of the front porch, peering out at the driveway. There sat a nice-looking car, small, silver, and near it, stood a bespeckled blonde woman. She was staring up at the house, eyes a bit blank as she kept her arms folded tight over her chest.

You made sure to make your next steps out into the open a bit loud before you called out with a “Hello, can I help you with something?”

The effort not to spook her was in vain, and she jumped a little as she turned in your direction, “Oh!” a shake of her head, “Sorry- I didn’t mean to just stand here and stare.”

You had crossed the distance to her now, and up close, you could see that she looked to be in her late thirties, maybe early forties. Now at arm’s length, she finally untangled her limbs to hold out her hand.

“I’m Rebecca, Rebecca Hawkins, I think you bought this house from me.”

Ah, so this was the granddaughter. “Actually it was my brother who bought the place. I’m just here to help.”

She made a little ‘oh’ sound, her eyes darting back towards the house before quickly snapping to you again. “Well, I was passing through the state and I thought I’d come by and see the place one last time before it’s sold off to another family.”

You nodded, but didn’t miss the way she instantly folded her arms after shaking your hand. “He said that you lived in California, I guess you didn’t get much time to see it before you sold it, huh?” you pressed, remembering how odd it seemed to you, that she would leave behind so many things in the house.

The woman scoffed, digging her heel into the gravel as she gazed at the grand front door. “Honestly? I haven’t been here since I was a teenager. My parents moved to another state when they got married, so we only came back here every couple of years for the holidays. I don’t really have much attachment to this place so when I inherited it, figured I’d just let someone else deal with it.”

“Ah, so that’s why everything was left inside,” you mused out loud, “I understand, if you weren’t that close with your grandfather, it would be more a headache than anything.”

Rebecca’s head didn’t turn from the house, but her eyes did shift back to you out of the corner of her glasses. “Well, we were close, there for a while, but, towards the end he just…”

Her eyes had snapped to the manor once again as she trailed off, and the gaze stayed there for a moment, seemingly transfixed. Then she seemed to shiver from an imaginary breeze.

“Anyway, it took a few years to sell, but I think it's for the best.”

“Do you want to come inside? See what we’ve gotten done for the place?” you offered, before an awkward silence could settle.

The heel that had been worrying a spot in the gravel slid forward, towards the porch, but she quickly shook her head. “No, no, I think I should get going. I just wanted to see the old place with my own eyes before I moved on.” She gave you a smile that was a bit forced before shaking your hand again. “Thank you, I hope you and your brother can make some good money off it.”

And before you could insist she at least come in for some coffee, she was opening her car door. However, before she fully shut it, she apparently had one final thing to say.

“Oh! I also wanted to ask, has a man named Atem shown up at all? He lived in the area, so I thought he’d be curious about who finally got the manor.”

Your eyes went a bit wide at the mention, “Oh! Yes, he has, he actually told me all about the house's history.”

Rebecca smiled, “That sounds like Atem, he’s got to be, what, fifty by now?”

“He’s really inter-” You began, but then your mind froze when her words sank in. Fifty…what? “E-excuse me?”

She went on, not hearing your confusion, “Yeah, he was probably in his twenties last I saw him, though, I was a little girl at the time.” She shook her head as she closed the car door, and through the down window she said, “Well, tell him I said hi, grandpa always talked about him, so I hope he’s doing okay.”

And with that, she turned the car on and pulled out of the driveway leaving you standing frozen on the gravel path.

The drive to the hospital was unusually quiet on your end. Your brother talked, especially when you mentioned your morning visitor, but almost everything he was saying was nothing but a buzz in your head.

You couldn’t have heard Rebecca correctly. Atem had to be in his twenties now, not when she was a kid. Or- or maybe she was confusing Atem with someone else her grandfather knew. Or…

“Hey,” you started when there was a pause in whatever your brother was saying, “Do you know if Atem’s dad lived here too? …And if he’s maybe named after his dad?”

He let out a confused noise, but his mouth twisted in thought for a second, “I don’t know, I can’t remember him ever mentioning his parents. Why?”

You had to let out a sign before answering. “Oh, nothing. Just something weird Rebecca said before she left. I must have just misheard her though.”

Big brother hummed again, “Well, like I said a minute ago, everything about her visit was weird. I mean, who goes out of their way to come by this little town to see a house for less than five minutes?”

He had a point, her odd behavior should have been the most troubling thing about her visit. “She didn’t mention where she was going but, if it was any decent-sized city nearby she still would have had to drive, what, almost an hour off the major highway?”

Nodding his head, your brother added, “Not to mention when she sold me the place, her realtor said she’d had the place for years and specified that she had no interest in coming out to the house before the sale was final. Kinda weird to change her mind now.”

“Guess she just needed some last-minute closure,” you finished as you pulled into the hospital parking lot.

After dropping him off, you spent the drive back to the manor trying to get your mind off of the strange meeting. There was no use reading into something that, in the end, likely had nothing to do with you.

Still, you wished that Atem hadn’t been gone for so long, it could have taken your mind off of most of the things plaguing it once he gave you some simple answers. With that desire in mind, once you got back in the area, you actually spent some time going down several roads near the manor in a half-hearted attempt to find this little house Atem mentioned living in.

It was half-hearted because you didn’t actually go up to any of the houses to see if he lived in any of them. It felt too odd or random to just show up on someone’s doorstep asking about a strange man you didn’t even know the last name of.

So, in the end, after not seeing him on a front porch or driveway of the few houses you found, you turned the car around and went back to the manor. Work was sure to take your mind off things. You’d play some of the CDs you loved most in your brother’s collection and zone out on your next project.

Or at least, that had been the plan.

You spend no less than fifteen minutes sitting in the driveway, telling yourself to put the mystery away then dwelling on the thoughts once again in a vicious cycle.

Thankfully, as your eyes drifted over the house while you thought, you remembered another small mystery that had cropped up that morning. That’s right, you had been in the middle of figuring out why the walls of the upstairs didn’t match the inside when Rebecca showed up.

Figuring that solving one small mystery could help you forget another, you slammed the car door shut with determination set on your face.

You marched through the front door and didn’t waste any time grabbing the floor plans from the main workstation in the drawing room. With them rolled up in hand, you ran upstairs to the master suite and spread the papers on the lavish bed.

Even before you lifted the layer of clear plastic your brother used for notes, you could see that your suspicions were right. There, beside the balcony, the master bedroom was supposed to have an alcove about four feet deep.

“Okay,” you clapped your hands together, turning to the flat span of wall beside the balcony door, “according to the floor plans, you should not be here,” you said to the wall as you ran your hand over it. Now, what was the best reason to cover up a section of a room? Secret passages were a staple of old houses, after all.

It was all smooth planes, if they had covered up the alcove recently, they did a good job. No fancy bookcases to hide a door, no strange seam hidden by the pattern of the wallpaper, but… there was a walk-in closet beside the mysterious missing space.

Thankfully there were hardly any clothes left in it, so you only had to slide a few suit jackets aside as you crouched near the right wall inside the closet. If you were going to hide a secret door, this would be the spot you’d choose for sure.

Your heart was actually thudding a bit hard in your chest as you ran your hand along one edge of the wall, then up to the top and around the other side.

Then a breath caught in your throat as your finger caught on a very, very thin vertical line. Taking the light on your phone, you shone it over the spot and that’s when you saw it, barely perceivable: the outline of a small door.

With fumbling hands, you grabbed the keys from your pocket and carefully wiggled them into the seam, then pushed on them like a mini crowbar.

Pop!

The panel swung open just an inch or two and stale air met your senses, but you couldn’t care much as you tried to push the door open. Excitement made you give up halfway through, and you hurriedly shone your light into the hidden room.

The beam dragged across cobwebs and windowless walls that were a bit distorted from neglect. Then the light traveled across thick layers of dust, stained hardwood, and- and something sitting at the very center of the small space.

It was a pedestal.

Somehow you ignored the vague sound of something creaking inside the room as you squinted your eyes. A pedestal? You placed your hand on the doorframe as you started to lean forward, thinking that you saw something metallic glinting atop it when the light played across the space. Cramped and dark and tiny, you thought staring into that wrong-feeling void was the reason the hairs were standing up on your neck, until the door slammed shut on your hand.

A scream of pain tore your throat apart as something- something inside the room was pressing the door hard against your hand. You struggled, feeling the skin on your knuckles tear open as you tried to pull your hand free, even using your free one to push against the force behind the door.

Then, you heard a frantic call of your name, and someone was kneeling behind you.

A frantic cry trailed off in the air as you turned and saw Atem, glaring at the secret door as he put his hand next to yours, “Push!”

As if you had stopped trying. Together both of you pounded on the door and even over that noise and the pain, you could have sworn you heard something like claws scratching at the wood on the other side.

Whatever it was, it relented and you were sent falling back out of the closet and into Atem’s arms.

Still frantic and screaming and crying, you both scrambled to your feet, Atem practically dragging you out of the bedroom.

“Wh-what the hell!?” you were barely making sense, but when you both reached the stairs, Atem let you go.

He looked just as sick as the last time you saw him as he leaned against the railing, and waved a hand down the stairs, “Go-” he paused, seeming to catch his breath, “go downstairs. To the kitchen. I’ll get the first aid kit.”

Despite the million questions resting atop your near-panicked state, you couldn’t seem to find it in you to argue. You took the stairs two at a time, cradling your bloody hand gingerly the whole time. When you finally made it to the kitchen, you couldn’t calm down enough to sit, even as you tried to rationalize what just happened.

Maybe there was a shutting mechanism on the door that made sure it shut behind whoever entered? Or, maybe, maybe something inside the room fell and-

Or, maybe you were just going insane inside this house that caused mirrors to crack and brothers to have heart attacks and doors to slam shut on their own.

“Here.”

You hadn’t heard Atem come in, but there was a first aid kit on the kitchen counter now, and he looked up at you almost sheepishly.

“You need to take care of your hand, it could get-”

“What the hell just happened?” Your voice was more quiet than anything, but it was firm as you looked up at him, still cradling the hand he was so concerned with.

He looked away then. “I don’t know,” his back was actually turned to you as he said, “I came to visit like usual, and I heard your screams. I was just-”

“Cut the bullshit, Atem,” your voice was higher now, all your confusion and irritation and pain pouring out in your tone, “something insane is going on in this goddamn house, and I think you know all about- hey! Don’t walk away from me!”

He had started stepping towards the door, but in your anger you closed the distance between you both, reached out your hand, and-

And you fell through thin air the moment you touched his back.

The fall to the ground didn’t hurt much, but maybe your mind was just reeling too much to register it. In a scramble, you rolled onto your back and looked up at Atem. Or, at least the space he had been standing.

Something dark and smokey, like black mist curled and coiled in the air where you had fallen through Atem. Slowly, the shadow smoke merged back together, until it once again resemble the man. His face, slowly returning to a full, fleshy color, looked down at you with something like resignation in his eyes. You stared back at him for a long, silent moment.

Then, for the second time that night, the house filled with your scream.

#atem x reader #yami x reader #yami yugi x reader #yu-gi-oh reader insert #Atem #series: the house of anubis

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deejadabbles · 1 year

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The House of Anubis (Atem x Reader Halloween special)

Part Three: The Dreams

One //// Two //// Three //// Four //// (Five coming soon) ///

A.N. OMG I never posted chapter three here?? Sorry, here you go, I'll be posting part four in just a moment too!

...

Cold, moist air hit your face and your legs ached as they pulled you forward. The hallways of the house stretched on, mocking you with their promise of safety in the rooms beyond. Behind you, something was breathing. Something cold and rotten smelling tried to reach out and snatch you with hands so close that you could feel the chill from them tickle the back of your neck.

You turned down a hallway, one that should have led to the staircase, but instead more endless, misshapen corridors greeted you. The House of Anubis was not ready to let you go yet.

That cold, rotten something behind you slashed and you felt the phantom sting of something ice-like raking down your back. Your bare feet were muffled on the carpet as you started running again. It was always right there, on your heels, just out of reach, ready to tear and feast. Your lungs were burning with the effort of running, but it was better than being snatched up by that thing .

A need to look back over took you all of the sudden. When you threw a glance over your shoulder, and it was like water from a winter’s lake had been poured over you. Darkness. Nothing but endless, yawning darkness. It crept down the hall behind you, filling the gaps you made with every step, seeping out like an all-consuming fog. Then, something inside the vast nothing drew in a raspy, wet breath, before letting it out with a growl.

You couldn’t scream. All you could do was look away, back to the endless hallway. The thought of throwing yourself out of a moonlit window crossed your mind, but your feet just kept aiming for the impossible end of the corridor.

Then there was a voice, deep and commanding, whispered in your mind. There were no words, but you knew his voice was there, a voice distant yet familiar. On his command you turned left, and a door with a gold handle waited for you. You grabbed the handle and threw the door open, not even looking on the other side before running in.

That’s when a scream did rip from your throat.

Darkness. Nothing but endless, yawning darkness. Your first step had you falling through it and your screams echoed in the void as you fell down the endless pit. Something warm brushed your face and you could have sworn you caught the dry scent of a desert , just before the end of the darkness rushed up to meet you.

Your eyes flew open and were met by the grand bedroom taking in early morning light. Some birds twittered outside the window, not at all phased by the light rain drizzling outside. You were immediately aware of the damp sheets sticking to your sweaty body, leaving you feeling cold and sick. A light shiver coarse through you as you sat up and took in the room around you. It was just as it was last night, when you dragged your tired body up there to sleep after endless hours sanding and painting.

It was a bit dark in some corners, given the minimal sunlight, but the darkness didn’t seep out to consume you, no empty voids for you to fall through.

A worn sigh left your body as you rubbed the heels of your hands over your eyes. It was only a dream. A very terrible, vivid dream. After assuring yourself of that a few times, you peered up to look out of the window. It was barely sunrise and you still felt exhausted, as if you hadn’t actually slept at all. The cold sweat and the clothes sticking to your body didn’t help.

The thought of laying back down for more sleep just made you shiver.

Instead, you supposed you needed to get up and start doing whatever you could to wake yourself up. A shower would certainly help. Get the blood pumping while washing away the sickly feeling. You glanced at the master bathroom beyond the ornate door and gulped. The memory of the mirror incident crawled back to the forefront of your mind. No, best not to take another shower here. Besides, you hadn’t brought another spare pair of clothes and the thought of changing back onto these damp ones was worse than leaving them on a bit longer.

You’d have to pick up your brother soon anyway, so you two could spend the day working on the house. You decided to just bear the uncomfortable feeling of the clothes for awhile longer and drive back to the airbnb where a less stressful shower could be taken.

That, along with something hot to drink and some breakfast should have you shaking off the fatigue as well as the disturbing shadow filled dream. With a plan in mind to strengthen your resolve, you shoved the blanket off, slipped your shoes on, and headed downstairs to grab your bag.

So focused were you on escaping, that you didn’t even notice the thin tear marks starting to appear right above the bed.

...

You could say this about the little mom and pop diner in town, they did have a good breakfast selection, and even more than one flavor of coffee to your surprise. There were only a few other tables seated besides yours, the rain outside apparently keeping most away. Still, it was a tad hard not to fall face first into your plate with as heavy as your eyelids felt. Big brother noticed and kept gently poking you with your fork the second your eyes fluttered shut.

“Okay okay, quit it,” you grumbled when he got pancake syrup on your forearm the third time he prodded you.

You heard him snort as you pulled a napkin from the thin metal dispenser and scrubbed at the spot. He took another bite of maple wrapped around fluffy batter before actually commenting on your dozing state.

“Couldn't fall asleep in the big manor by yourself?” he teased, but his smirk slid off when you shot him a glare. “Hey, sorry, I didn’t think...did you really have trouble last night?”

A sigh as you tossed the crumbled napkin aside and started gathering some food on your fork. “I didn’t have trouble falling asleep or anything, it just feels like I didn’t actually get any sleep.” Your teeth came out to bite at your lip as your eyes met his. The memory of another time sitting together and eating came back to you. One where you had confessed that the house could sometimes make you feel uneasy. “You told me that you started having weird dreams before your heart attack, right?”

His brows pulled together in concern, “Yeah...?”

“What were the dreams like? Like, what do you remember being in them?”

He leaned back and ran a hand through his hair. “Uh...well...I don’t know. They were really vivid but at the same time they were...dark? I don’t know how to describe it. A lot of the time it was like I was running through…”

“Shadows?”

His eyebrows lifted from their concerned furrow to a surprised arch. “Yeah, exactly. Like shadows pulled in around me or something.” He leaned forward again, and pulled close enough to whisper, “Did you have a dream last night?”

When all you could do was nod, you could have sworn you saw some of the color drain from his face. He was at a loss for words and just stared at you for a few long minutes.

Eventually though, he blinked and looked back down at his pancakes. “Hey, why don’t we take the day off? We’ve- especially you’ve , been working around the clock for forever. The house can survive for one day without us, and we deserve a break!”

You tried for a weak smile at him, “That sounds like a good idea.”

A smirk, then he added, “Besides, I don’t think it’s good for you to be working with power tools when you’re falling asleep in your breakfast!”

As agreed, you two stayed away from the house that day. Instead you went back to the rental and played a couple board games the owner had in the closet, which brought back some fond and welcomed childhood memories. Your brother even convinced you to lay down for a nap at one point, and thankfully, no weird shadow dreams occurred. After making lunch you discovered that there was a ‘classic monster movie marathon’ playing in the next town over and decided to distract yourselves with that in the evening.

The movie playing that night ended up being ‘the Mummy’. Normally, that would have been fine, but with its Egyptian themes it was hard to keep your mind from wandering back to the ebony carved sanctuaries and painted hieroglyphs bedecking the House of Anubis. Visions of the house and its rooms played in your mind, side by side with the black and white horrors playing out on the screen. The man who built the house had been so involved with the grave robbing and tomb excavating of the era, had he brought upon some pharaoh’s curse? One that still lingered in the house?

“This house has a habit of collecting accidents.”

Atem’s voice, deep and commanding, echoed in your mind. That wasn’t the only odd thing he had said or done either, he always seemed concerned about you and your brother whenever you were in the house, as if waiting for some deadly shoe to drop.

By the time you were driving home that night though, you somehow managed to shake the thoughts away. You were just letting your head wander into superstitious nonsense.

...

Two days later found yourself back in the old house, feeling well rested and ready to take on the next major project. Said project? The fireplace. The lounge’s centerpiece did not fit modern day safety standards, meaning it had to be rebuilt, which was fine in some ways, as it had several bricks cracked or missing altogether anyway. It was nice to do something a bit more cathartic for a change, but of course, it couldn’t last long. You had only gotten as far as hitting it once with the sledgehammer before your brother was positively irate.

“Look at this!” he yelled, nearly falling out of his chair as he examined the wiring you had exposed upon your first hit. “What idiot tries to turn a masterpiece like this into an electrical deathtrap!?”

Indeed, it looked as though someone not too long ago had tried to convert the wood fireplace into an electric one. And had done an abysmal job of it. From what your examination on the inside told you, it seemed they tried to wire heating elements directly into a main eclectic line within the walls. Then, when they apparently couldn’t get their little cozy heater going, they just gave up, cut the heating elements off and plastered over it with new brick, exposed wires and all.

“We’re lucky this place hasn’t burnt to the ground ages ago! Do they realize how much damage they could have done?!” your brother continued, slamming his good hand down on the arm of his chair.

“Well, technically, it’d be the damage we did, wouldn't it?” added Max, who was standing off to the side with your hammers and goggles.

“How are we supposed to assume that some dumb ass left exposed wires in the fireplace?!” his voice practically cracked in that response. “This isn’t the first time we’ve seen stupid shi- I mean, crap like this either,” brother continued, somewhat failing to be mindful that there was a minor present. “Remember that time mom and dad had to take out a whole porch because some renovator wanna-be tried to build a deck without a measuring tape? Handyman bullshit!”

You wanted to snort in laughter at that, but were too cautious of breathing in the soot within the fireplace. Indeed you did remember that deck, it was hard enough to build stuff like that normally, but on a hill-side house? That was an slanted nightmare.

“Okay,” you started, shimming your way out of the fireplace, “I think it’s an easy enough fix. I’ll cut the new wires out, and we can get a connector to get the original wires back together. You should call your electrician friend first though, just to make sure it’s the right approach.” You brushed the worst of the shoot off your shirt and jeans, “Meanwhile I’ll go down to the breaker box and cut power for this room, so we don’t get any unwanted shocks.”

“Shocks, you’re so funny ,” he grumbled as he pulled out his phone.

You couldn’t help but smile, he was just worried after all, if he hadn’t noticed what you and Max were hammering into, it could have ended very badly. You heard a phone conversation start as you made your way down the hall and to the basement door. The narrow stairs were cloaked in darkness, even after pulling the chain cord to turn the singular bulb on.

For your own good you pulled out a flashlight before descending. The steps squeaked and groaned with the slightest of pressure, and you wondered if rebuilding these stairs should be on your to do list as well. The inspection said they were termite free, but still, visions of falling through the rickety boards or the whole staircase crumbling beneath you flashed in your mind. Yeah, definitely going to have to run that by your brother.

The basement was vast and cavernous in a way that literally reminded you of a cave. The flaking, unpainted mortar and stone made it feel cold and unused, forgotten, abandoned. That typical damp stench of something mildewed and vaguely brimstone permeated the area, a smell not suitable for the rest of the home. That was how most basements felt and smelt though, right? Most felt hidden and unnatural, most had that old and rustic stench, there wasn’t anything to be worried about in this particular basement.

The fact that there was barely any light down here wasn’t helping, you granted. Only two light fixtures illuminated the whole area, which spanned almost all of the house above, leaving the edges of the basement in darkness like a vignette bordering an old photograph. You ran your flashlight over the walls to dissipate some of the mystery, but of course the shadows crept back into place the moment the beam of light moved on.

With a calming breath you pointed your flashlight at the far end of the basement, which housed the furnace, water heater, and the like. Now that you recall, you had never actually located the breaker box, your brother only ever mentioned that it was in the basement. With a sigh you began your hunt.

It wasn’t on the adjacent wall, like most would be, nor was it closer to the stairs. There was a door along the far wall, but it was just a water stained closet housing a couple old wire shelves. It was only after briefly running your light over the water heater that you found it.

“What the-”

You cut your own exclamation off and marched towards the machines. This was a new one. The breaker box was behind the furnace and water heater! You never recalled hearing a placement like that.

“Handyman bullshit,” you whispered under your breath, agreeing with your brother’s claim.

After a peek around the machines you confirmed that you wouldn't be able to fit behind them, even without the thick layers of spiderwebs to deter you. Instead, you opted to fit your arm between the two units and hope it wasn’t too hard to reach. Pulling the metal door open was easy enough, but wedging your arm down enough to shine your light over the switches was a task. You read the labels, searching for the lounge’s circuit, and you had to move your arm again to read-

“Ah!”

The cry left you just as a slicing pain raked across your forearm. You ran the light over your skin and found a thin line of red. The edges of the metal door were too sharp and you had moved your arm in just the wrong way against it. Another curse left your lips, but at least a look at the metal confirmed that there wasn’t any rust. The last thing you needed was a tetanus shot. Even still, you had a sudden urge to get the hell out of there.

You trailed your light back to the switches, but, just as you continued your search, something else slid across your skin. A shiver, a nagging feeling of wrongness overtook you, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up, the way they do when something unknown stands too close.

You turned, as much as you could, and raked your light over the basement. Nothing.

There wasn’t much room for turning with your arm jammed between the machines, but you did the best you could. “Max?” you called, thinking that he might have come down to talk to you, but no answer came.

Another shiver wracked down your spine, like a cold breath against your bare neck, as noise tickled the edges of your senses. Noise. Something was moving on the far side of the room, where neither the light of the bulbs nor your torch reached. You slid your arm out from its prone position, turning fully towards the source, and straining your ears to hear.

Scratching.

There was a vague scratching sound coming from the darkness, echoing off the damp stone walls.

You swallowed hard, and took a step forward. It had to be a rat, or some other animal that managed to get in. With that thought as your mantra to brave forward, you kept your light shining on the floor. You stepped close enough to illuminate the baseboards and slowly, you trailed the light along the bottom of the wall.

Nothing.

Nothing, but you could still hear that scratching, like nails dragging themselves across stone.

With another gulp, you began to lift the torch up, the thin beam lighting up square after square of old, stained wall. Sweat gathered on your brow the further it climbed, all while that scraping persisted and horrible visions started to creep into your mind and- SLAM!

A scream had you turning around and casting your light on the utilities behind. From the thin space between the water heater and the furnace you saw that the powerbox had slammed shut. Heart thundering in your ears, you bolted for the stairs. The image of something crawling after you in the darkness flashed in your mind; something with long nails scratching the floor as it drug itself up the stairs behind you! You were sure the steps would crash under your thundering feet but you reached the top landing and flung yourself to safety on the main house, only looking back when you were well down the hall.

Heart still hammering in your ears, you stood there, the light of the bare bulb lighting up the landing and anything that might come crawling. The moment’s ticked on, waiting for the scratching thing to come up after you. Minute after minute passed. but nothing came.

It took a long while for your heart and your nerves to calm down, even as you watched for anything chasing after you. Once your hammering heart finally began to quiet, you made sure to scold yourself. Seriously, why were you so jumpy? The scratching had to be from some sort of animal, rats could climb after all, the floor being clear didn’t mean it wasn’t one. And the door, it could have creaked shut on its own, especially if the box wasn’t level, and your scared senses just interpreted it as slamming.

Yes, it was just your nerves getting the better of you. Had to be.

Still, even after going over that several times in your head, you couldn’t bring yourself to go back down there alone. Again you scolded yourself, but you only felt at ease when you asked Max to hold your light while you switched the breaker.

Thankfully, no scratching or slamming occurred when you were both down there, which made you both relieved and thoroughly annoyed with yourself. If nothing happened when you were both down there, surely nothing actually happened that first time. Yeah, just your nerves playing tricks, that’s all it was.

...

Your feet clicked on the tiles of the vast washroom. The mosaics beneath your feet were cold but you never shivered. Before you the warm pool fit for a pharaoh glistened in the light, the waters looking so inviting. You never even climbed down the steps but your feet were soon enveloped in the silky, soothing water. A hum left your lips. Your body was so sore, so tired, from all the labor you’d poured into the house.

This house. The House of Anubis that collected accidents and housed shadows and scratching things. The wood and stone and tile that so much of yourself was poured into- were you now a part of it?

The tranquil bath mimicked the darkness of your sudden thoughts, and shadows collected like storm clouds overhead at the snap of a finger. They crept and clawed and you shied away, trying to hide in the soothing water- but it was gone! The clear liquid was soaked away, slipping through cracks in the tile that your hands couldn’t fix.

The darkness was closer, oppressive and all consuming and you felt a pain gnawing at your chest- at your heart! A scream died in your throat and you tried to breath but couldn't, you were trapped, you were-!

Something warm and gentle pulled you against the heady, musky scent of burning incense.

“That’s enough, no more nightmares.”

Above, the shadows retreated, recoiling as if the sudden light was burning them. Your throat opened and you sucked in glorious air, as well as that comforting scent of spices and sand. The pain gripping your chest was driven back as well, all while a gentle hand rubbed your back.

“You’re safe now,” said the voice, deep and inviting, alluring even, “I won’t let it harm you. I’ll keep you safe, I’ll keep you all safe .” The words were firm, as if said through teeth gritted in righteous anger, but the hands were still gentle.

And so too were the lips that pressed against your temple.

“Safe,” the voice repeated, much more calmly this time.

You pulled back just enough to look at your savior, but something about his appearance was lost to you. Like a memory so old it was only half remembered. What you could see was a glorious robe, made of pure cotton and accented in vibrant turquoise. His face was lost on you, though.

“Who?” was all you said, all you could say.

He must not have heard you, instead he cupped your face in his cool hands, quelling a fever you didn’t know you had.

“There is danger in darkness,” he warned, husky voice firm once again, grave, even. “Stay away in the darkness. Stay away.”

Your hazy mind tried to grasp at the words, to understand, but there was something blocking him, something stopping him from saying his full truth. Then his lips moved in the shape of your name, calling out to you, again and again and again!

You jerked hard when you finally woke up. The sound of your heart and a lingering panic filled you before you were aware enough to realize where you even were. The house. Busts and small statues surrounded you.

“You must have been having some weird dream, kiddo,” your brother said and you realized he must have been the one to wake you. “You okay?”

“Uh,” you looked around and finally registered that you were in the lounge and had fallen asleep in the worn settee. “Yeah, just had a weird dream.”

“That’s literally what I just said,” he teased in a light tone, “Anyway, I’ll give you a minute to wake up, but after that lunch breaks over!”

“Yeah yeah I’m getting up,” you grumbled, sitting up straight and stretching your arms above your head. The fireplace was two days into its remodeling, and if you hurried, you’d only have the cosmetics to worry about tomorrow.

“I’ll go grab you some coffee to perk you up,” he offered, making his way to the kitchen.

“Thanks,” you yawned after him. As you gave another stretch, your mind recalled the odd dream. Another one. At least this one ended somewhat nicely. Though you did wonder who the man in the regal robe was.

Before you stood up, your eyes landed on the paintings along the wall. Particularly the one of the pharaoh’s court. The vibrant colors were diverse, but turquoise was prominent, surrounding the beautiful dancers and courtiers as they stood and bowed in complete reverence to their king. A king who filled the whole painting with his commanding presence as easily as someone else would fill a tailored coat. A few steps had you less than an arm’s length from the painting and you examined it, or rather, the pharaoh, closer. He was handsome to be sure, but handsome in a completely Anglo-saxon sort of way and not at all what actual pharaohs would have looked like. You didn’t have hardly any recollection of what the man in your dreams looked like, his face only a vague mercurial impression of feelings more than an actual image. But you did remember his chest, warm and strong, and bare. He had been dark skinned, a familiar shade, paired with a familiar voice.

The more you thought about it, the more the man resembled…

“Here ya go!”

You almost jumped at your brother’s reappearance, you really must have been deep in thought not to hear him coming back. You took the coffee cup from his hands with a thankful nod, blew on the hot liquid, and took a tentative sip. The bitter taste hitting your tongue did clear some of the lingering cobwebs of sleep, and after a second sip the question teeming your mind came spilling out.

“You haven’t heard from Atem lately, right?”

Your brother swallowed his own swig of java as he shook his head. “Not since that night he looked like he was about to hurl all over our staircase. I don’t have his phone number or anything. You never found his house, did you?”

“No, I didn’t find any of the houses he mentioned being in the forest.”

Something, a thought, brightened his eyes then, “Hey you know that trunk beside the fireplace in the library? I think I saw some maps of the house grounds and the woods, maybe they’ll give a better idea of where they are.”

You gave a quiet nod, “Sure, I’ll check it out if I have time after we’re done here. Hopefully he’s okay”

“Yeah, this is the longest I’ve gone without seeing his drop by- besides, you know, me being in the hospital and all.”

A shrug of the shoulders and another back-cracking stretch, “Anyway, let’s get back to this, with Max gone we’ll have to go double time it we wanna make our goal.”

The early evening ticked on smoothly enough and a snack ensured that you two could work past dinner time to achieve your desired stopping point. Even with your brother’s ‘supervising’ quips and the sun setting outside, you didn’t have to work too far into the night. By 7:15 everything was ready to set overnight and your brother was yawning.

“Well, I think that’s enough work for one night!” When you threw him a hard glare he put his hands up in defense. “Hey hey, I never said it was me working the hardest. Besides, I did help where I could.”

“I know,” you said in a short tone as you started packing your tools away, “But you do know you’re the one cooking dinner, right?”

“Yes yes, I was going to volunteer as chef tonight, I know!” He took a glance towards the kitchen then added, “Let me make sure I turned the coffee pot off while you pack those away, k?”

He didn’t wait for your response before going off in that direction. Tools clanked together as you started getting less patient with putting them away neatly, your gnawing stomach becoming more noticeable now that you weren’t distracted. You should probably nom on your last power bar on the way back to town, as it would probably be over an hour before you got proper food…

Your thoughts drifted away as a shiver crawled down your arms. Your hands started rubbing down your arms before you could stop yourself, but that only made you realize that it wasn’t a cold shiver. It was that hair prickling feeling you got when someone was watching you. The frightening image of someone peering in at you through the curtains, half bathed in moonlight and grinning like mad, floated to the top of your thoughts. Paranoid, you turned to the window at your right.

Nothing. The feeling did not ease though, so you turned to the window behind you and the other on the opposing side of the fireplace. Nothing and nothing. That shameful feeling that you were being ridiculous had the audacity to mingle with the frightening anxiety, so you got up and threw the lacy curtains closed. But even that didn’t stop another chilling sensation from slithering down your neck.

Especially when something above you creaked.

You looked up, but nothing unusual caught your eye. Straining your ears, you tried to hear another creak, but none came. A sigh left you as you tried to calm yourself as the shivers persisted.

Clang! Hard and sudden panic shot through you as the sound of something crashing in the kitchen echoed. You were bounding towards the swinging door in an instant, heartbeat deafening your ears! The kitchen door flew open with your shove- and your heart was in your throat when you saw your brother doubled over.

You cried his name as you rushed to him, just as he looked up to meet your eyes. “What happened?!” you yelled, kneeling at his side, taking in his ashen face.

“I’m okay!” he responded in a panic of his own, “Really I’m okay! I was putting away our cups when something on the top shelf fell on me. I backed up in time though, it just got my hand.”

To reassure you, he held up his hand, knuckles first. There was a mean red mark that was sure to turn into a bruise, but no cuts or worse, thankfully. A glance around told you had you laying eyes on a old, heavy metal pot. Big brother was lucky, that could have easily ended in another concussion.

A sigh of relief left you, but just as it did, you heard another creak from above. Again your eyes darted to the sound but again they found nothing.

‘There is danger in darkness,’ echoed the voice from your dream, and your eyes landed on the dark, moonlit night beyond the window. ‘ Stay away in the dark! ’

“We need to go,” was all you could say as you stood straight and began urging your brother towards the door.

You expected him to question your sudden mood, but he didn’t say a word. Maybe he had felt it too, maybe that crawling shiver had warned him before the pot fell, but lingered enough to urge him out of the house too. Even with your shaking hands it didn’t take long to get him and his chair into the truck and you were both speeding away from the house as fast as you dared in record time.

From the window of the master bedroom, Atem watched you go. He hoped you were cautious as the forested road locked you in its dangerous tunnel, but you weren’t stupid, just scared. Properly scared. Atem almost hadn’t gotten there in time again, the thing was as bloodthirsty as ever and was hell bent on finishing your brother off.

The walls snarled as the thing writhed within, nestled the space dear old Alexander had built for it. Atem turned to face the hidden room, eye dangerous, murderous, even.

“I told you I wouldn’t let you have them,” he hissed, “You can try again and again, but I’ve grown stronger, just as you have.” The thing snapped and growled at Atem, digging at the panels that kept it sealed within the walls; desperate, hungry . “You know not to underestimate me,” Atem added coolly, and with a mere thought, his shadows enveloped the room.

The thing howled, piercing the night with it’s anger, but it wasn’t enough as the House of Anubis was filled with the Pharaoh’s power.

#atem x reader #yami x reader #yami yugi x reader #ygo #series: the house of anubis

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