dial6forhorror

They had averted the apocalypse.

Or, really, they had averted this apocalypse, which was experienced by Five, and which the Commission had been determined to see happen at the hands of Vanya.

Allison had bundled Vanya up in a cloud of cashmere and chanel and whisked her off to LA, unwilling to remain away from her daughter and even less willing to leave Vanya in the hands of any of her 'emotionally constipated, idiot brothers'.

Luther had wanted to go with them, but Allison only let him come on the understanding that he couldn't live with her and Vanya yet. He had betrayed Vanya terribly and that would take time to heal.

With Luther, Allison and Vanya gone, about ninety percent of the horrendous tension left with them. Ben was dead and couldn't feel anything, but even he had felt the constant tension of walking on eggshells.

And it left the four of them in the house.

Sir was dead (still) and hadn't bothered with trying to haunt Klaus (yay), which meant that there was no real reason to avoid the old house, aside from years of trauma and nightmares, which had never been enough to stop any of them doing anything.

Klaus moved back into his room. Diego moved back into his. Five moved into another room, well away from everyone else because he was trying to learn to how to be a person but it was a long, slow process and he needed space and quiet more than the rest of them.

Ben... was still dead.

But since they were doing this thing, Ben decided to start where his nightmares were oriented.

The cellar. Not Vanya's basement, but the old, converted cellar, where it was always cool and damp and there was no possibility of bringing down a building if They got out.

Which was why, some half an hour later, there was the terrifying, inhuman shrieking of the Horror having been unleashed. And, even more strangely, it was a scream that echoed as ripples through the spirit plane, ghosts fleeing and energy twisting, centred back down on that cellar.

Threaded | Flat

One of the best ways Klaus has found yet to keep the cravings at bay (because it's just his mind now, his body is over the drugs, it's just his brain that's still addicted) is hobbies. He'd tried a few things - knitting had been terrible, but he's started to really get into drawing.

The day Ben decides to go and try to do some training, Klaus is in his room, hunched over a sketchbook propped up on his knees, one elbow resting on the lower corner while he works on intricate lines in an abstract pattern that's scrawled all over the page, chin in his hand with the pinky pressed between his lips so he can bite at the nail of it. Keep his mouth occupied. The cravings are all bunched up into a twist of pain in his gut, but he focuses on the intricate pattern, the feeling of his teeth worrying a rough spot on the end of his fingernail.

And then all hell breaks loose, quite literally.

It goes from quiet and pretty peaceful to a wild cacophony of insane blue energy, screaming and squealing and shrieking and wailing ghosts twisting up like some kind of fucked up ethereal cyclone of terror. Klaus jumps up, the sketchbook clattering to the ground, yelping as he clambers up onto the chair, one foot lifted while a horde of spirits float up through the floor of his room and through him (fucking...creepy awful with the cold spiking all through him) and then they're gone all in a rush.

The dark, unearthly energy is still there though, twisting up from the cellar, and once Klaus catches his breath, he crawls down off the chair and cautiously moves out into the hallway, hand on his chest.

It takes him about 5 minutes to get downstairs, his heart still pounding, narrow chest rising and falling heavily as he moves down the stairs, through the hallways, on top alert for danger, anxiety spiking.

It takes him another 5 minutes to convince himself to open the door once he's down in the basement and outside the cellar. Swallowing hard, he reaches out a shaking hand and pulls the door open, green eyes wide.

"Ben?"

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