The Haunting of the Miller House
John "Soap" MacTavish x Simon "Ghost" Riley
a/n: for now, this is a oneshot, but could turn into a series depending on reception! this is a buzzfeed unsolved au, where soap is a paranormal investigator, and ghost is his demon companion. he's unaware he's a demon, of course! no warnings apply, besides a few minor descriptions of violence that comes with hauntings. read on ao3 !!
The video starts. Two men stand aside one another; one is shorter, though in reality stands at around 6”0. He has a mohawk and is dressed in relatively light clothes – a flannel shirt over a white, plain tee, and faded blue jeans. He’s wearing trainers and excitedly smiles at the camera. His companion stands impossibly tall, at 6”5, and is wearing a darker outfit then his friend. A beanie covers his head, black and plain, and the lower half of his face is covered by a plain black facemask. Despite it being late at night, he’s wearing sunglasses. A black hoodie with skeletal ribs around the right area on his stomach, black jeans, and combat boots finish his outfit off. In every way, he looks like his partner’s opposite.
“The Miller household was once a lovely house in a nice suburban area, bought by a young, budding couple, excited to start their new life together,” The smaller one begins to speak, his voice dramatic, clearly getting into telling a story. His accent is Scottish, though it isn’t too thick, at this moment. “As soon as they moved in, however, things began to seem out of place. A bump in the night, lights switching on and off, or a TV being on when they had definitely turned it off. Things came to a head, however, when they claimed to see a figure in the night-”
A scoff escapes the taller man. The smaller man shakes his head in amusement and continues.
“-One that continued to haunt them. Scratches, bruises, furniture being pushed around, and perhaps one of my favourite pieces of evidence to date.” A picture shows on the screen of a dark room. Outside the window appears to be a figure, peering at the window, though it's only the outline – there are no discernible features.
“Photoshop,” The tall man muses.
The Scotsman rolls his eyes, though his smile betrays his affection. “I’m John MacTavish – though you can call me Soap, and this is my ‘partner’,” Soap nudges his partner’s side, giving him an expectant look. The man in question blinks slowly at him before he seems to register what’s going on.
He huffs.
“I’m Simon Riley. Ghost.”
“A man of many words, aye?” A snicker escapes John, and it’s difficult to see Simon’s reaction – though his eyes crinkle slightly at the corners.
“Either way, I’m a wholehearted believer in ghosts. My partner is a skeptic. In this series, I tour some of my favourite haunted locations, whilst also trying to prove to him that ghosts are real!” Soap’s hands clasp together excitedly, and as an intro begins to play, the ironically named Ghost mumbles a few things about ‘photoshop’ and ‘hallucinations.
The intro gives some music, and some more information about the house, as it plays some shots of the house in the background. It looks like a generic house on the outside, though its inside clearly reflects its abandoned state – classic interior, fitting of the past. The Miller House is a hot spot for paranormal activity, apparently, thousands of believers from all over the world come to visit and come away firmly in belief of the paranormal.
The intro finishes with a flash of the title, before returning to the two partners. They stand inside the house, now – Ghost is forced to crouch to get through a doorway without hitting his head.
“This is the living room. Where the TVs used to turn on without anybody being there – the lights often switched off and on in this room, too,” Soap explains, looking around the room with trepidation in his features.
“Maybe the ghosts just wanted to watch TV. Did they think about that?” Ghost questions, his voice amused, even when his face betrays nothing but seriousness.
“Well, when paranormal activity occurs, there tend to be problems with electricity, so it might be that-”
“They definitely want to watch TV. All ghosts are from the medieval period, right? I’d want to watch TV without it killing me. Maybe the Simpsons. Maybe just the news.”
Soap does his best to seem annoyed with his words, his arms folding across his chest, but an amused laugh escapes him, nonetheless. It seems to put him at ease, more relaxed in the dark house, now. “It’s a nice living room,” He finally relents, grinning.
“Better than ours,”
“Our living room is lovely!”
“Remember the wine-”
Ghost is cut off by a glare from Soap. The look lingers, before the shot changes once more.
Now, they stand in front of the stairs, looking up at them. There are a few pieces of leftover decorations along the wall by the stairs, just a few paintings, but it’s nothing that daunting. It’s dark upstairs, and both men have different expressions on their features.
Ghost looks nonplussed. Even behind the mask, everything about his stance reads casual and calm. Soap, on the other hand, is staring upstairs like it might kill him, immediately.
“Maybe we could… put some lights on, eh?”
“No. Gotta prepare you for your solo run, MacTavish,” A hand is placed on his shoulder, and it’s difficult to see behind the mask, but Ghost is grinning at him. Soap huffs right back in response, before gesturing to the stares, “Ladies first!”
A chuckle escapes the man in hand, but he allows the other to hide behind him as he walks upstairs. When he reaches the top, followed by Soap, his eyes flit around the long hallway, before focusing on a single spot. His eyes narrow momentarily, catching even his companion’s attention.
“See somethin’?” More of Soap’s accent slips out when he’s nervous, apparently, anxiety intensifying thanks to the skeptic's sudden focus.
There’s a momentary silence as he simply continues glaring. The camera zooms in to where he appears to be looking, and there seems to be nothing but empty space.
“Nice painting,” that silence is suddenly broken, and the camera pulls back in time to see Soap’s eyes widen, then let out a laugh.
“Ye right scunner!” Soap exclaims between laughter, nudging his side in what seems to be a chide for scaring him. Once more, his accent thickens with his emotions – now with righteous indignation at being frightened by his partner. A knowing look in his eyes betrays that this isn’t the first time.
“English, MacTavish,”
“Och, fuck you,” Despite the seeming irritation in his words, he’s grinning fondly. The duo walks to the end of the hallway and step into a nearby room. It’s the bedroom, clearly.
“This is where Elizabeth Miller and Daniel Miller were sleeping peacefully one night before a loud crash woke them up,” Soap begins to explain, and he looks enthusiastic about this explanation. He looks around the room, gesturing wildly as he speaks.
This time, Ghost does not interrupt him. Instead, he watches, fondly.
“Both got up to inspect the crash, together, knowing that they’ve had a few incidents with the paranormal before, when Elizabeth sees a figure in the corner. Before she can warn her partner, the figure rushes forwards and sends her flying across the room. Daniel is sent the same way. They both rush out of the house, different items being flung at them – plates, glasses, even a book – before they make it out.”
“I’d love to fight a ghost, one day,” Simon interjects, seeming unable to resist.
Seeming typical of the two, John just stares at him for a moment, before forging on.
“They go to hospital, get treated for their injuries – some scratches, like deep claws, and Elizabeth broke a rib. Daniel made it away with only a sprained wrist and scratches. This room is considered the most haunted place in the house – different paranormal investigators have come here, and have claimed to hear voices, whispers, or the sensation of being touched.” His explanation finished, Soap looks around the room, as if expecting someone to jump out at them at any time.
“If any demons would like to… steal my heart, they’re more than welcome to,” Simon begins, walking around the room like he owns the place, “Hell, whilst you’re at it, why not steal Johnny’s heart? Just take it out. Maybe throw us across the room. Let’s fight. I can fight.”
“Don’t drag me into your shit, eejit!” Soap complains at him, backing away as if to form a physical barrier between them. “I like my heart where it is?”
“You’re no fun,” Simon sighs softly, as if truly forlorn, but his shoulders shake with quiet laughter.
Once more, the scene shifts, back to both being outside. Simon is wearing a helmet with a camera on it, able to catch his face without having to use his hands. There are walkie-talkies in both of their hands.
“Welcome to my least favourite part of the investigation – the solo investigation! This time, both me and Simon will work through every room in the house, trying to reach out to whatever ghosts – or demons! - inhabit the house, separately,”
“I look ridiculous,”
“You look… handsome?”
Ghost glares at Soap. The latter grins unrepentantly, before shooing him inside.
Once more, the camera shifts – this time, it’s a close-up of Ghost’s face as he walks through the house. It’s dark, and his eyes can be seen drifting around the room, looking the epitome of calm and relaxed, despite being in a supposed haunted hotspot. The video shifts between different clips of him taunting his namesake:
“Reckon I could take a ghost in a fight,”
“You want to scratch me up? Come on, then. Wait, that sounds…”
“What did the ghost say when it crashed the Halloween party? I’m here for the boos,”
At the last pun, the camera snaps back outside, to where Soap is sitting comfortably in his seat. “I bet he’s telling shitty jokes, the asshole,” fondness drips from his tone, “getting them all riled up for me, I’m tellin’ you! Next time, I’m goin’ in first. Then we’ll see who gets freaked out,”
The camera snaps back, just in time to see Ghost hit his head against the door he’s trying to walk through. He glares at the camera as if trying to inform every viewer not to say anything about it, before making his way upstairs.
His journey skips to the bedroom, once more, uneventful. The room is dark as he steps inside, and this time, he remembers to duck down to avoid hitting his head.
“This is where that picture Johnny likes was taken,” he muses, looking over at the window. Closer, he wanders, then uses his fingers to make the ‘I’m watching you’ sign as if there’s something he can see out the window. “Any demons want to use me as a vessel?” He asks, turning and lazily spinning around in the room as if to try and tempt them. There's amusement in his tone, lazy confidence, like he knows there’s nothing here, or, if there is, that it would never dare to touch him.
“Time’s up, Ghost,” Johnny calls through his walkie-talkie.
“See you next time, demons. Give Johnny a fright for me. He hates hearing footsteps in other rooms. Nothing more, though. Don’t want to give him a heart attack,” he muses, beginning the trek downstairs. There’s a tapping sound on the wall as he walks past, a tap, pause, then another tap. He walks on like he doesn’t notice a thing.
There’s a change in perspective as Ghost steps outside, so both are in view. Rather dramatically, Ghost staggers out of the house, staring at his partner with wide eyes.
“What?” Immediately, Soap is moving closer, concerned.
“They spoke to me,”
“What?” Soap looks frantic, terrified, and intrigued, all in one.
“I can hardly boo-lieve it,”
A groan escapes John. He gives Ghost a look like he killed his cat.
Ghost just looks proud of himself.
There’s a pregnant pause, before the camera switches, and Soap is the one in the house. His shoulders are drawn, tense, walking around the house. “C’mon, ghosts. Give me something. Wanna… tug on my shirt? I’ve got some nice arms; you want to touch them?” As his arms lift, showing off his biceps, footsteps ring out from upstairs.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Somehow, even in the night vision of the camera, it’s clear all the colour has left his face.
“That’s fine. Yeah, everything’s fine. Better than fine,” He continues his walk through the downstairs rooms, now in the living room, “I can walk around, too. See? Hear my feet?” His feet thud loudly against the floor.
There seems to be no response.
“Yeah! That’s what I fuckin’ thought! Ye bawbags, nothin’ but cowards!”
Perspective shifts and they’re outside for a moment. Ghost is standing with a walkie-talkie in his hands, seemingly mid-conversation with someone behind the camera, before indecipherable Scottish yelling is heard from the building. He seems to be taunting the ghosts.
“He’s yelling at them already? Thought he’d last longer,” Simon deadpans, staring at the camera for a few moments longer. It falls silent, apart from the sounds of John’s panicked yelling.
His eyes crinkle at the corners, indicating a smile, just as the perspective shifts back to Soap.
The man has made his way upstairs and is staring into the open bedroom door with fear in his eyes, but also some feral anger. That’s how he copes, it seems.
“This where you were stompin’ ‘round earlier? C’mon out!” He steps inside, looking around the room manically. “Show yourself! You wanna fight? I can fight! I can handle some scratches!”
Various threats of different levels are sent into the still room, yet this time, there’s no response, no footsteps.
Relief floods onto his face as the walkie-talkie crackles to life, and Ghost’s voice speaks up, “Your five minutes are up, now,”
“Coming!” Soap calls, and he rushes downstairs.
Three taps echo out from the bedroom just as he reaches the front door, and he’s rapidly closing it behind him to avoid dealing with that.
Once more, the camera shifts so they can get a proper view of the duo. Ghost walks over to help Soap out of his gear. “See many ghosts, MacTavish?”
“So many.” He grumbles.
Ghost snickers.
Once more, there’s a shift. John is now out of his gear, and Simon is standing with him, looking at the camera together.
“I think it’s fair to say it’s difficult to know what’s wrong with the Miller house,”
“Nothing. Bit old fashioned, though,” Simon hums.
“It’s spooky!” John insists.
Ghost chuckles.
“Well, whatever we believe, skeptic or not, there’s definitely a strange story that comes with the house,” Soap amends, shaking his head in fond amusement. “And I don’t think we found enough proof to swing it either way. So, for now, whether or not the Miller House is haunted remains… unsolved.”
Outro music begins to play, faint, at first, and it’s quiet enough to hear Ghost question ‘Is that a thing, now?’.
The video ends.
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