Archive of Our Own

Shane stared at the old house in front of him, suppressing a deep sigh. He had lost track of how many haunted locations they had been to at this point, and he couldn't be bothered to go back and recount. He just knew that this gig was getting tiresome. 

He didn't hate his job or anything - in fact, he loved it. He liked his workplace, the literal buzz the Buzzfeed office had about it day to day. He loved the people there - the humans. And he loved his friends. Life treated him pretty well, if he were being honest, up until it came time for the supernatural editions of his and Ryan's show - Buzzfeed Unsolved. 

Mostly because the ghost hunting took a toll on him, even though it should fill him with loads of energy. But that was his fault, he supposed. 

"Tell me one more time why this place is different than all the rest?" Shane asked Ryan, who was scrolling through the notes on his phone.

Ryan looked at him over his glasses, pushing the frames up on his nose. "Because this one takes place within the last five years. A recent case, if you will. Still unsolved - gotta stay on brand." 

Oh. Recent. How exciting, Shane thought bitterly. There was always something extra unpleasant about newly dead people. And very rarely did he and Ryan cover a case so recent. 

"However," Ryan continued, shattering Shane's thoughts, "it is recent enough to take place in a Chipotle, which is your number one complaint for ghost hunting. So this case should make you feel a little happier than all the rest." He knew Shane was always on him about why all ghosts seem to be from a different century. 

Why isn't anything recent?

Why is it always 18th century men and women?

Why can't it take place at a Chipotle? 

"I do love a good spook," Shane said, pulling his phone from his pocket to check the time. "Maybe we will actually get one tonight." Correction, Ryan would most definitely get one tonight. As for Shane himself, well, as he's said before, he's ghost-proof, baby! 

Ryan gave him a look of disbelief. "You actually think you'll get a scare tonight? Wow, I'm shocked." 

"We are trying a new thing this season. It's called positivity. Have you heard of it?" 

"Some  might say I even invented it," Ryan fired back. 

"Oh no! Watch out ghosts, Mister Positivity is on the scene." 

Laughing, Ryan rolled his eyes. "So you want to get spooked tonight? That's what you're staying positive about?" An odd thing to get positive about, but that was Shane for ya. 

"More like you getting some real evidence. Shane Madej doesn't get scared!" Not entirely true in the slightest, but it took a lot to scare one of Hell's most infamous demons. Not that Ryan knew any of this. No - he wasn't supposed to know. Not really. It's one thing to believe in it, but another to actually know it's there. 

"You want me to get evidence that ghosts are real?" Ryan didn't sound too sure about that. 

"Yeah, why not? That's what this whole thing is. You want me to believe in ghosts and you need proof to do that. I'd love for you to prove me wrong." He really wouldn't, because the aftermath of that would be brutal. And Shane so wasn't ready to have that conversation. 

"I will, you know. Just wait. Even if it's not today, there's a next time. I'll get you your proof." 

Shane laughed. "I'm beginning to wonder if you're trying to get proof for yourself or for me. You seem more confident with every place we go to now." 

"I'm pretty sure that confidence died when we got out of the car and walked across the street to here." To the sidewalk they were currently standing on. In front of this murder house. 

Shane knew his friend threw all confidence out the window the second he spotted the house. Being able to pick up on emotion was a species specialty. While most of them were sort of muted, fear was the one that really jumped out. And as of right now, Shane could tell Ryan felt a bit of it, which would only grow in size once they actually stepped inside. 

"You'll be fine," Shane assured. "You always are." And okay, maybe he had a little to do with that, but he wasn't about to let some annoying ghosts fuck with his friend and make him fear the dark. Or being alone. Or sleeping in general. 

"Yeah, later. We're spending the night at this one. Which means I'll be trying not to shit my pants for even longer." 

Shane let out a loud laugh. "Please refrain from any pants shitting. I'm sure there's a working restroom inside." 

"I'm sure there is, but if we see a ghost upstairs and the bathroom is downstairs, do you think I'm going to just tell it to hang on a minute, I gotta go shit?" 

"Ryan, what?" Shane chuckled. "Why are we talking about this? Shut up." 

"You shut up!" 

"Good one, Ryan. I almost actually stopped a reply from coming out of my mouth." 

With an eye roll, Ryan shoved Shane by the shoulder and stomped towards the house. "Let's get this over with." 

"We can stop or leave at anytime," Shane reminded him, as he usually did every time they went to a new location, just before the cameras started rolling. 

"Yeah," Ryan breathed shakily. "Okay." He looked back at the cameraman, who gave him a thumbs up. He was rolling. So he reached for the door handle and opened the door, which squeaked very loudly. 

"Sounds promising," Shane commented. "And very cliché." 

"Well, this house looks like it's straight from a Hollywood horror film, so I'd expect nothing less." Ryan took the first step inside, looking around the foyer. The house itself wasn't huge or mansion like, but it was decently sized to be considered better than the average home. 

Shane gave him a funny look at the back of his head. "What do you mean? You already know what it looks like?" That's no fun, he pouted silently. 

"I saw some photos when we were doing the research of the place," Ryan informed. "Some of the house is normal, but other parts look like they performed satanic rituals and held cult meetings there. It looks very fake, but they say the practices were believed to be very real." 

Shane highly doubted that. Most humans had the wrong symbols down or wrong items and ingredients present when trying to perform anything satanic. Or demonic. It's why most summonings never worked. The traps were drawn all wrong. And not made with the right stuff. However, they probably believed what they were doing was very real. And in a way, it was. But since he had never received a summoning call in the pit of his gut, he was going with wrong symbols drawn on the trap. 

Or, of course, there was always the other option. Maybe another demon had been summoned. But the spell usually always tacked onto the closest demon, and last Shane checked, he was the only one around this area. Sure, California was a big place. Los Angeles being very busy. But demons that found themselves in the presence of Shane Madej, often left as fast as they came. Call it a blessing or a curse, but it did have its benefits of being so well known. It also had its negatives, however. 

Shane followed Ryan around the house, getting some good shots of the place with his phone. Nothing had even happened yet and he could already feel the fear seeping out of Ryan. The temptation to take it was strong, but he couldn't just drain the emotion from him like that. But the taste . . . It had to he just- 

"Shane!" Ryan snapped, breaking Shane from his thoughts. "How many times do I have to ask you what you think of the place before you actually give me an answer?" 

Oh. Ryan had been talking to him? "Sorry, uh . . . This place doesn't seem like it's gonna give us a good spook." So far, actually, it looked pretty bland. A normal house with normal furniture. 

"I think the basement might do it. Remember, they were doing this stuff in secret from their parents. And according to the mom, her and her husband hardly ever went down there. They believed in their kids having their own space to hang out and express themselves." Ryan led them to the basement door, opening it wide enough for both of them to look down the stairwell. 

"Why is it always the laid back parents that get the most fucked up kids?" 

"Shane!" Ryan hissed. "Don't piss them off before we spend the night here."

"What? The kids were fucked up. Admit it." 

"Okay, yeah, but-"

"And they got themselves killed because of it." He could feel the energy of the two teenagers that once lived here - and who are now dead. He had yet to see them, and actually wondered if they would show themselves at all. New spirits were always the most annoying, so he was shocked himself that he hadn't seen them with his own eyes.

Ryan looked over at Shane. "Should we go down there now or wait until we've seen the rest of the place?" 

He knew his friend enough to know that he was trying to stall the inevitable. So Shane said, "Might as well get down there now, since that's where we will be spending pretty much all our time." 

"What kind of logic is that?" Ryan asked, laughing. 

"The more time we spend down there, the higher the chance of catching a ghost." After all, that's what he's been trying to do this entire time. 

"True." Ryan looked back down the stairs, flicking on his flashlight. "Uh, after you?" He stepped aside, gesturing for Shane to go ahead. 

Rolling his eyes, Shane clicked on his own flashlight and stepped ahead of Ryan, and began his descent down the stairs. He didn't need the flashlight to see - he could see in the dark the same as he could in the light. Yet another perk of being nonhuman. But he had appearances to keep up and all. 

When he reached the bottom and looked out into the open space, he actually had chills sent down his spine. He expected a poorly made up room with some weird symbols and maybe some dusty books, but this . . . This looked legit.

And in the center of it all, stood the two children who died here only years ago. 

Shane's eyes flickered to solid black as he stared at them, giving them a warning of just what he was. Which was, not like them. So do not try anything funny. 

"What the fuck?" Ryan breathed, looking around the room. "This is scary as fuck." 

Shane let his eyes go back to normal when he heard Ryan approaching. "You did warn me." 

"Yeah, but . . . The pictures didn't do this place justice." It was so real, it looked almost fake. Tapestry hung along the walls, covered in what Ryan hoped was just dark, red paint. 

There were tables set up, some of which had various bowls and items scattered across them, untouched. A giant rug covered the area, though Ryan could see a tinge of faded red lines sweeping beneath them. If he had to guess, something was underneath the rug, too. But he would look later. 

"Damn, Ry, where did you find this place?" Shane asked, looking over at his friend whose heart was pounding louder than a drum. Or maybe that was just his better than average hearing. 

"The internet." Like he found everything else. Maybe everyone was right. The internet was a curse. 

Shane looked back over to where the siblings were, finding them gone. Good. This place was awful enough without them. "At least its clean in here." Compared to a number of other places they've been. "Looks like we won't be getting mesothelioma after all." 

Ryan shot him a look. "I'm not so sure that's how mesothelioma is contracted." 

Shrugging, Shane answered, "I'm no doctor, but I'm sure half the places we've spent the night in are not recommended for keeping up good health." He couldn't get sick, which was good for him, but the same couldn't be said for his friend. Ryan could get sick very easily, and it's a wonder he hasn't brought something back with him at some of these places. They were absolutely disgusting enough. 

"This place hasn't been lived in for five years, and basically everything was left the same, minus the gruesome murder scene, but it does still get cleaned regularly. So I guess you're right. It's nice not breathing in pounds of dust and walking through cobwebs." He walked over to the tables, looking at the items spread on them. He had no idea what half of it was, but most of it looked like old herbs. 

Shane stood where he was, unsure about getting too close to some of this stuff. It's been awhile since he's seen the real deal, but the energy of this room alone was enough to tell him it wasn't as friendly as everywhere else they've been. Those were tourist traps. This was . . . Not. 

"You're tall enough to be walking into cobwebs?" Shane poked. 

Ryan whipped his head around to glare at him. "I just let you walk first so you can clear the path for me, bigfoot." 

"Hey! Don't bring him into this. He's just out there, minding his own business, and here you are, talkin' shit." 

"I still can't believe that you believe in something stupid like bigfoot and mothman, but you find it so hard to believe that ghosts and demons are real." Ryan never understood why Shane believed in things that sounded so . . . Preposterous. A giant, hairy human like animal roaming the woods? Unlikely. A man that looks like a moth with giant wings? Even more so. 

Bigfoot and Mothman were most definitely not real, but Shane had to believe in something. And it just so happened to irritate Ryan, so it was a win win! "Those are things that can be seen and photographed." 

"Ghosts can too!" Ryan argued. "We just . . . Don't happen to catch them like others." 

A part of Shane deflated a bit. That was all his doing, and he didn't like making Ryan feel bad and get down about getting hardly any evidence at some of these places, but it was for his own good. The supernatural and the living should stay divided. Otherwise, they end up like the two siblings who lived in this very house. 

Dead. 

And Shane most certainly did not want Ryan dead. It's all about leaving well enough alone, and Ryan just so happens to be bad at doing that. If there's a mystery, he has to solve it. To the best of his ability, anyway. Get all the facts and stories in order and even if he never gets a definitive answer, at least he has something. It's why the True Crime seasons of the show worked so much better. He wasn't gonna die fucking with old cases from decades and even centuries ago. 

"You'll catch something one day," Shane said anyway, trying to keep Ryan's spirit alive. "But until then, I'm not believin'."

"Of course not." He wouldn't expect anything else. 

Shane walked around the room, looking at some of the symbols on the walls, resisting the urge to reach up and touch them. If they were real, with the ingredients and everything, he wasn't trying to touch dried animal blood. That was just gross. 

He wasn't paying attention to much else as he kept walking, his eyes focused on the walls. They had tapestry covering almost every inch of it, and it wasn't until he took one step too far and felt himself lock into place, that a sinking feeling settled into the pit of his stomach. 

Oh no. 

Quickly, he looked up at the ceiling, finding nothing but the dull white it was painted. He then looked down at his feet, looking at the carpet for any specific design or symbols, but it was just a simple, maroon rug, with the same wavy pattern across it that meant nothing. 

He tried to keep calm, because if he even looked remotely concerned, it would send Ryan into a mass panic. And he couldn't afford that right now. Especially not when he was - wait. There. 

Shane's eyes caught the corner of the rug, and he walked over to it, seeing red paint smearing out from underneath it. 

Ah ha. 

"Hey, Ry?" 

"What?" Ryan turned around to face Shane. 

"I think there might be something under this rug. See the paint?" He pointed to the faded color peeking out from the corner. 

Ryan's eyes lit up. "Oh, yeah! I saw it earlier and meant to say something, but I got distracted." 

Damn it, Ryan. "Okay, here, I'm going to lift it up and you tell me if it's anything good." He grabbed the corner of it and walked backwards, peeling up the rug. He didn't take too many steps back, not wanting to hit the invisible wall he knew caged him. Otherwise, it would burn. Bad. 

"Uh," Ryan stated, staring at whatever it was beneath the carpet. 

"What is it?" Shane didn't have to listen to confirmation to know what it was. 

"A devil's trap, I think. It looks a little funny, though." He turned his head, as if he were trying to interpret it. 

That's because it's a real one, Shane thought to himself. Great. And he knew it wasn't broken anywhere, otherwise he would be able to walk right out of it no problem. All he needed was for Ryan to scratch just the tiniest line through the paint, breaking the circle. However, Shane didn't know how to get him to do that without outright asking, and even then it would seem too suspicious. He could feel the magic of it holding him in place. 

And for once, he didn't know what to say. This was all going to go downhill very fast if he didn't think of something. 

"Do you think it's legit?" Ryan asked. "Like, could we summon a demon in this thing?" 

"Who knows," Shane answered, peering around the carpet to look at the circle beneath him. "Maybe." 

"We should try it!" Ryan said excitedly. 

How about no? There was already a demon inside, so he wouldn't be able to summon another one anyway. However, Shane feared that if Ryan did try it, and got all the words correct, that it might reveal a little more about himself than he wanted to. Like the eyes. Or the horns. 

"Aren't you terrified of demons?" Shane went with instead, hoping he could maybe steer Ryan away from any summonings. 

"Hell yeah I am." 

"Then why the hell would you want to try and summon one?" Any other time, it would be Ryan telling Shane not to mess with the demons, because those scared him more than actual ghosts. And there were far less demons roaming the earth than there were spirits. It was a bit ridiculous, but Ryan didn't know any of that, so Shane didn't hold it against him. 

"I'm willing to make a sacrifice or two for some proof," Ryan said. 

Shane could feel the magic in his stomach tingling at the idea of a deal, but he squashed it down. He was not about to make a deal with Ryan. However, a little bit of magic strayed from the well inside of him, and he found himself saying darkly, "What sort of trade would you make for some proof?" 

Ryan gave him a funny look. "Why did you say that like that?" 

"Like what?" Shane pressed his lips together, keeping a tight leash on the magic. It was sort of hard, considering he rarely used any of it anymore. "You know what, never mind. This is some weird shit." And please forget the question, please don't answer it. He walked forward, letting the rug fall back into place over the devil's trap. "Isn't it?"

"Yeah," Ryan drawled, looking Shane up and down. "Are you sure you're fine?" 

"Never better," he lied. But then . . . "Actually, I'd feel better if the circle beneath the rug was broken. Like the whole salt circle thing we did back at the Goatman's bridge." Thankfully, Ryan had broken it the second they stood up to gather their things and leave. He lucked out then, and hasn't had a close call since. Until now, anyway. 

With a brow raised, Ryan said, "If you don't believe in any of it, why would that make you feel better?" 

Shane shrugged. "Wouldn't it make you feel better? We do have to sleep here, ya know." 

Ryan crossed his arms. "Yeah, and if a demon or devil or whatever wants to come in here, it'll get trapped in there, so it's not like it can come hurt us." 

Shit, shit, shit! "Implying that it does work and isn't a fake, then sure." 

"So you think there's fake devil's traps?" Ryan snorted. "Is that what you're saying?"

"I'm saying it probably takes a very unique set of symbols that have to be exactly right in order for it to work." It couldn't be just ant symbol you felt like. 

"And what are the chances of this being exactly right? As cool as that would be, it's probably just some horse shit they painted for fun. And we can't just come in here and vandalize the house. We start doing that, and no one will let us come investigate places for ghosts anymore. Then the show would be ruined." 

Maybe that's for the best, Shane thought. Just the supernatural seasons. True crime could stick around forever, there was nothing unsafe about that. Unless they covered mob cases. There's no telling anything with the mob. 

"It's not vandalism," Shane assured. "We aren't ruining anything. And they won't notice one, teensy line made by a fingernail through the paint." 

Ryan stared at him. "Seriously, are you okay?"

"I said I was fine." 

"Yeah, but people can lie, Shane." Ryan rolled his eyes. "You're being extra weird. And if it bothers you that bad, you can draw a line through the paint. But I take no responsibility for that." 

If he could touch it, he would have done it five minutes ago and avoided this entire scenario. But if he even tried to reach for it, the magic holding him in place would burn him badly enough to blister. And no way could he explain that away without telling Ryan the truth. 

"I'm staying in this circle all night." Mostly because he had no choice. Not until Ryan specifically released him, they made a deal, or if he broke the damn circle. And since he didn't see any of those things happening within the next five minutes, he was going to have to take an alternate route and figure something else out. 

"Are you now?" 

"Yep. And you're staying here all night, too. So bust out the spirit box and whatever else you brought and let's get this show on the road!" 

Shaking his head, Ryan slung his backpack off his shoulders and muttered something along the lines of, "Something's not right with this man." He dug out the spirit box and set it to the side, searching for something else at the bottom of his bag. 

Shane had a few hours max to find a way out of this damn trap without revealing what he was. He had no idea how he was going to do that, since Ryan clearly refuses to break the circle with just a scratch. There was also the problem of the two siblings who still lingered in the house somewhere, and if they decided to get brave, there's not much Shane could do from inside the circle. Not unless Ryan was in here also, but he was free to come and go as he pleased. The main problem would be getting him to stay in it. However, Shane didn't count on the two ghosts doing much of anything. They seemed to take his warning pretty seriously since they left so quickly. 

But now that he was trapped . . . 

No. They wouldn't. Unless they were stupid. Then again, they did get themselves killed from summoning a demon. Of course, he knew that, but the human world didn't. It's just yet another unsolved murder to them. To Ryan. 

This is why he wanted to keep the supernatural a secret from his friend. It never ended well for anyone who went poking around where their nose didn't belong. 

"I guess we can start with the spirit box, since I know it's your favorite part," Ryan said, grinning. 

"Yay. I love listening to the radio so quickly. It eliminates by ability to just pick one station to listen to, since there's so many good songs out there." 

Ryan rolled his eyes, turning on the little box in his hand. The noise itself was loud to begin with, but to ghost and demon ears, it was practically unbearable. 

Every time it turned on, Shane visibly winced. He noticed it throughout every episode he watched before it was posted for the world to see, and he had never quite been able to master not flinching or making a face every time it turned on. It sort of helped that Ryan jumped each time it was switched on, too, from how loud it was. 

"Okay," Ryan began, sitting cross legged on the floor. "Abby and Dylan. You two were the teens that got murdered here, right?" 

The spirit box flickered through channels like normal, no sounds coming through. 

Shane was never actually certain the thing worked, since he scared off most of the ghosts that tried to yet too close. They never left the house, however. They couldn't. But that didn't mean they couldn't still communicate through the damn thing from some other room. Shane had no way of knowing for sure, so he let the voices slide by as some kind of proof for Ryan to give. If they offered any. 

"Are either of you here right now?" Ryan asked, looking around the open room. "If you are, could you give us a sign? Maybe move something or say something?" 

Shane took on his usual look, eyes roaming around the room. His gaze, however, landed on none other than Dylan, who stood in the far corner staring right at him. He smiled widely, his teeth showing. 

The spirit glanced at Ryan, his eyes narrowing. The smile never left his face, giving Shane the only kind of warning he needed to know. 

They were going to fuck with him. They knew he was stuck. 

"They must be radio shy," Ryan said, reaching for the box to turn it off. "Normally we get a word or two. But this? Nothing! Maybe we should try out the summoning circle." 

Shane's eyes flicked over to Ryan. "And do what? You seriously want to summon a demonic entity?" 

"I'm not saying it'll work, but maybe it's worth a shot. At least it would provide something for the episode." Ever since Villa Montezuma, Ryan had been dead set on delivering at least one interesting and questionable thing per episode. Something about never having a season finale as uneventful as that one ever again. 

"You could at least try a solo session before you resort to summoning demons," Shane suggested. 

"You're right." Ryan stood up. "Where do you want to do them? Here?" 

"This is as good a spot as any," Shane answered, slumping his shoulders. Now he only had a few minutes at most to come up with a reason as to why he couldn't leave the circle. "Gimme the gear. I'll go first."

"As always," Ryan replied, handing him the headphones and camera. "Three minutes sound good?" 

"Make it four!" 

"Four minutes!? Shane, come on, I have to do this too." 

With a sigh, Shane relented. "Fine. How about I do four minutes and you do two?" 

Ryan frowned. "That makes me look extra wimpy." 

"As compared to . . .?" 

"Shut the fuck up." Ryan grabbed his backpack rather violently. "Four minutes. Good luck." 

"I sure as hell need it," Shane muttered, watching Ryan and their camera man head up the stairs. At least he wouldn't be alone up there. 

He stood up and paced around the circle, drawing up any information he might have on how to get out of this. He's very old (all things considered) and has plenty of experience, and he knows he could trick Ryan into some stupid deal to get him out of this, but deals with demons were dangerous. Including him. 

It could be something as simple as "if you edit this video alone, I'll buy you Chipotle" and saying "it's a deal." But there's always a price to pay for making one. 

Shane would own his soul. And he didn't want to do that. Ryan's soul was his own - it wasn't Shane's to keep. He didn't want to be in charge of that anyway. Far too much responsibility on his end. And then others would want to know why he hasn't dragged it to Hell, and it's just a big mess. 

It wasn't until he heard Ryan shout, "One minute!" that he realized he hadn't recorded anything useful. Or anything at all. 

"Fuck!" He hissed, grabbing the camera and turning it on. "Uh, I don't think this thing has been on for the last three minutes, but rest assured, nothing happened. Just another dark, spooky looking room full of crunchy herbs and painted symbols." He panned the camera around the room to show what he said was true, and then looked at the one aimed at his face. "Don't kill me, Ryan. I thought it was recording." He gave a goofy smile, sure that it would solve whatever anger issue Ryan had about it later. 

"Okay, time's up!" Ryan yelled, opening the basement door. He was on his way down the stairs when his foot missed a step and he fell, barely able to cling onto the railing before hitting the bottom. 

"Shit, Ryan! Are you okay?" Shane went to rush over to him before abruptly stopping at the edge of the circle. He balled his fists at his sides when he saw the ghost of Dylan standing on the steps. 

"Yeah," Ryan groaned, sitting up and leaning against the wall. "I just slipped. Or missed the step. I don't know, I swear I had my footing and it was there." 

Shane began to fidget with the camera in his hands. This wasn't going to work out. He had to break this circle now. "Can you stand?" 

"Oh, yeah, I just needed a minute. The wind flew right out of me." Ryan stood with ease, pushing off the wall towards Shane. "But I swear it was . . ." 

"What?" 

Shaking his head, Ryan said, "Nothing. Anyway, how'd it go?" 

"Uh, you know. Completely terrible. I feared for my life. Thought I was gonna die." 

Ryan rolled his eyes, snatching the camera out of Shane's grip. "It's a good thing your time was up, then. Otherwise I might have come down here to you lying dead in the middle of a pentagram." 

"Not exactly how I want to go." Now was his chance to try again. "But that's why I'm saying you should break the circle. What if I had died and I turned into a ghost? I'd be stuck here forever! I don't want to be stuck in some demonic murder house for eternity. It's not even a tourist trap. I couldn't scare people and have fun with it." 

"Is that how those traps work? Die in it and get stuck there for eternity?" 

Oh, um . . . "It could be! We don't know." 

"Shane." Ryan gave him a serious look. "If it concerns you that bad, then you can draw a line through the paint. It's not that serious." 

But it is! Shane wanted to scream. So without telling the truth (not really) he said, "But what if I'm a demon and can't actually touch it to do it?"

"Then I guess I'd have to ask why you were stupid enough to willingly walk into the trap in the first place." 

Son of a  . . . "To be fair, neither of us knew what was underneath the rug." 

"True. But you're not a demon and you're not stuck," Ryan said, matter of fact. 

Shane's joking smile quickly turned into a frown. Why did Ryan have to be so damn stubborn? Just break the circle for Christ's sake! 

"But let's say you were a demon," Ryan continued. "Couldn't you like, grab a long item and reach out and scratch the circle? Like with a fire poker or something." 

Points for creativity, but that didn't help Shane's current predicament. "It wouldn't be much of a trap then if a demon could escape at any given time with a long stick." 

"Hmm. I guess not." 

"Which is why you, a human, needs to break the circle to set me free." Telling Ryan he was a demon without telling him he's a demon, really lifted a small weight off his shoulders. It was really the only secret he kept from Ryan, and saying it out loud made him feel . . . better. But only a little, since he was still stuck. 

"Why are you so obsessed with this?" Ryan snapped. "It's just some paint on a wood floor beneath a rug. It means-"

Ryan didn't get to finish his thought because both of their flashlights went out, submerging them in darkness. 

Since it was pitch black, Shane allowed his human eyes to change to pitch black to get a better look around them. He could see spirits at any given time, but with his demon eyes, he could tell where they were from rooms away. Unfortunately for them, both ghosts were in the same room. Standing right behind Ryan. 

"Damn it," Ryan muttered, banging the flashlight against his palms. "I know these batteries are good. I just changed them before we even came inside." 

"Ryan," Shane said quietly. "Come here." 

"What?" 

"Come here." 

"Why?" Ryan asked, still banging the end of the flashlight. "Stupid fucking thing. I take it yours isn't going to come back on either." He took one step towards Shane, but was yanked back by the collar of his shirt. "What the fuck!?" 

"Ryan, seriously, come here," he practically growled. He saw the damn ghost reach for his friend and yank him back, but Ryan was literally three steps away from him. He could easily jump to the circle before the ghost could even touch him. 

Ryan didn't need to be told twice, and practically fell into the circle beside Shane. It offered no protection, or anything really for a human, unless he was on the other side of it. But now that he was in here, Shane could still keep him safe from the ghosts since he was in there with him. 

It would be stupid for either ghost to come inside the circle, knowing that Shane still had power within it. Then again, they've already proved once they weren't too bright. However, the one ghost - the sister - didn't seem to be taking part in these activities. She stood further back, biting her bottom lip as she watched her brother fuck with the human and the demon. 

"Listen, I know you don't believe in ghosts or spirits or demons or orbs or-" 

"Ryan," Shane said calmly. "Take a breath." 

"But something just fucking grabbed me! And pulled me back! I felt it yank the collar of my shirt, Shane. I know its pitch black in here but-" 

"I saw it," Shane said, cutting him off, eyes never leaving the ghosts in front of them. "Just . . ." Ugh, was he really about to do this? It was evident that Ryan wasn't going to break the circle himself, especially now that he felt ghosts touching him just feet away from it. 

Shane took a step back, now directly beside Ryan. "I'm going to do something, okay? Just . . . don't scream or freak out too bad because I don't want the neighbors coming over, thinking you're dying." But at least maybe one of them could break the circle. He could always influence them to do it with his powers, but he hated doing that. It felt wrong controlling people with his magic. And using it on Ryan was out of the question. He had never used it on his friend and never would. Not unless his life depended on it. Which it never did. But that was the only exception he would ever allow himself. 

"What are you doing?" Ryan asked shakily, looking up at Shane. 

"Lending you my eyes." This way, he could see the threat. And understand why he needed to break the circle. He reached two fingers out, touching them lightly against Ryan's forehead. 

"What does that even me-" he stopped abruptly, catching two figures out of the corner of his eye. He whipped his head over, seeing two, transparent figures hovering just feet away from him and Shane. His mouth hung wide open, but no sound came out. 

"Meet the two teens who were murdered here five years ago. Abby and Dylan Anderson," Shane informed, glaring at Dylan. 

Dylan moved forward, causing Ryan to scoot back, breaking the connection Shane had with him.

"Where - where did they go? Shane, what the fuck!" 

"They're still here, you just can't see them. You broke the connection." And as far as he knew, he couldn't just project the magic onto him. They had to be touching. 

Ryan scooted away from Shane, suddenly scared of his best friend. "What - what are you?" he whispered before answering the question himself. "Demon." 

"Yes," Shane answered, staying rooted to the spot. He knew things were going to become a shit storm. He called it the second he realized he walked into the damn trap. 

Ryan could only stare into the blackness where he knew Shane was standing. 

"I don't know what those two are trying to do, but please, Ryan. Just stay in this circle with me if you're not going to break it to let me out." He couldn't help him if he was out there. 

"I'm stuck in a devil's trap with a demon," Ryan squeaked. "No, no, no." He kept scooting backwards until his back hit the wall, which was most definitely not inside the circle. 

"You're not stuck, " Shane informed him. "Okay? Only me. I'm stuck because I'm a demon, but you are human and can walk in and out of it as you please." He was trying to keep his friend calm, because the fear rolling off of him was . . . Enticing, to put it lightly. If he just took a little of it, Ryan would never - 

No. 

He was not feeding from his friend. He never had and never would. 

"But, Ryan, you're not in the circle and I can't protect you out there unless you scratch up the paint." 

Ryan shook his head, hands gripping his hair. "No. No, this isn't real. It can't be real." 

"I'm sorry that it is," Shane told him truthfully. "But please come back in the circle." He noticed Dylan getting closer and closer to Ryan, who still wasn't listening. Shane couldn't say he blamed him, but this was serious. "Ryan."

"You're a demon." Not a question. 

"Yes, I am, and I'll tell you all about it in the Sunday paper if you just-" 

The ghost appeared in front of Ryan. Literally appeared. 

Ryan stared at it, wide eyed and frozen in place. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it quickly when no words formed. 

Shane got as close as he could, which was pretty damn close, all things considered. "Get away," he rumbled to the ghost. "Or else I'll send you someplace far worse than this basement." 

The ghost smirked, turning to face Shane. "That's what the last demon promised. And failed to deliver," it said. 

Now it was Shane's turn to smirk. "But you see, the difference is, that demon wasn't a commander of Lucifer's armies. He was a failure."

The ghost's smile vanished. "You're not . . . No way." His look changed to something from concern to awe. "Madej." 

"So you know you're history. Good for you. And also completely fucking stupid." His eyes went from black to red - something only he could do. No other demon possessed the same abilities as him. It pays to be on top. 

The ghost went to back away before realizing Shane was still stuck inside the trap. "Looks like I'm not the only one being fucking stupid," he spat. Shane's magic wouldn't project outside the circle. It couldn't. 

The ghost turned around, ready to really fuck with Madej's human, only to discover that he was no longer trembling against the wall. 

Whipping back around, he came face to face with a red eyed demon, and his human off to the side, holding the dead flashlight that was now scuffed up with red paint on the end. 

Shane smiled at him, teeth sharpening. "I don't appreciate you pushing my friend there down the stairs. But whereas his descent ended up pretty okay, you can bet yours won't be quite the same." He reached out, grabbing the ghost by its neck. "Your sister, however, can stay. Since she didn't partake in any of your activities." Can't say he wasn't fair. 

"Don't," the ghost choked out. 

"Too late. You had your warning the second I stepped into this house. You disregarded it. And as much as I'd love to escort you to Hell myself, I'm not leaving my friend here alone." So beneath his breath, he muttered a string of words in Latin, watching the ghost in his grasp vanish with a fading scream. 

Shane looked over to where Abby stood silently. She faded away, disappearing to someplace else in the house. 

The flashlight in Ryan's hand came back on, as well as the one that had been discarded on the floor by Shane awhile ago. 

Ryan went to pick it up with shaky hands, stretching his arm out as far as he could to hand it to Shane. 

Gently, Shane took the flashlight from Ryan's shaking hand. "Thank you, Ryan," he said softly. 

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Ryan asked, "Can we get the fuck out of here?" 

Shane nodded once, gesturing for Ryan to go first. He didn't miss the way he kept his hands clenched at his sides to keep them from shaking, or how tense his body was the entire time he walked up the stairs and out the front door. Their cameraman didn't say anything, but eyed them suspiciously. 

Ryan went straight to the car, tossing his backpack in the back seat and sliding into the driver's side. 

Shane looked at him through the passenger side window. "Do you want me to find another ride?" He understood it if Ryan said yes. 

"No." He offered nothing more, staring out the front windshield. 

Nervously, Shane opened the door and got in, buckling up. He didn't want to be the first to say anything, wanting to give Ryan the chance to work it out in his head himself. Think on it. 

Apparently, he didn't even need that long before yelling, "What the fuck, Shane!" He gripped the steering wheel so tightly, Shane thought he might break it off. 

"I can explain-" 

"Are you even Shane?" Ryan asked, glaring at him. "Or are you possessing that body and pretending to be Shane?"

"I am Shane," he told him. "There is no possession going on. I'm the same person you met at the office years ago. Nothing about me is different." 

Ryan's frown deepened. "Except you're a demon." 

"I've always been a demon," Shane assured. "You just . . . know about it now." 

"That's not helping," Ryan grumbled, turning the key in the ignition. 

Shane eyed him curiously. "Are you okay to drive?" 

"No!" Ryan snapped. "But I need to do something normal right now and driving his normal." 

Implying that Shane wasn't. Okay. That's fine. He supposed it wasn't considered normal to just find out demons roam the Earth and your close friend happens to be one. 

Shane leaned back in the seat and stared out the front window as Ryan drove away from the murder house. The silence in the car was suffocating, but Shane wasn't going to be the one to break it. He understood that Ryan needed time. Everything he had just witnessed was out of the ordinary - even though it was the very thing he's been working on trying to prove this entire time. Living it and hearing about it were two very different things. 

"Where did he go?" Ryan asked suddenly, breaking the silence. 

"Who?" 

"That . . . ghost or whatever the fuck. Where did he go?" 

Ah, that. "Hell," Shane answered smoothly.  

"And you sent him there?"

"Yes." 

"Hm." Ryan said nothing else, continuing to drive home. 

That's all he's gonna say? Shane wanted him to say more, but he honestly didn't know what he wanted his friend to ask. Why he was a demon? How he became one? Who else was a demon? The questions were endless. And Ryan was someone who couldn't stand not asking them all. 

Ryan pulled up on the curb in front of his apartment, shutting off the car. "Come inside?" he asked, though it sounded more like a demand. 

Shane nodded wordlessly, opening the door and following Ryan up the stairs to the third floor of his apartment. 

As soon as they stepped inside and Ryan closed the door and locked it behind him, he said, "We are going to talk about this before I have a mental breakdown and can't function normally." 

"Okay," Shane said slowly. "You ask and I'll answer. Does that sound good?" 

Ryan gave him a weird look. "And you'll be truthful about it?" 

"Yes." 

With a deep breath, Ryan asked, "Are you going to kill me?" 

Shane couldn't help the breathy chuckle that escaped his throat. "No, I'm not going to kill you." 

"Are you sure?" 

"Yes, Ryan, I'm sure." 

Ryan paced around the space in his living room, while Shane took a seat on the couch. "Okay. Why don't you want to kill me?" 

This time, Shane suppressed the urge to outright laugh. "Ryan, I don't want to kill you and never have. You're my friend. Why would I do that?" 

"That's what demons do, isn't it?" 

"Some of them, yes." Since Ryan already discovered his secret, he might as well be one hundred percent truthful with him. No sense in holding back now. "But I am not one of them." 

"Then who is?"

Shane furrowed his brows. "What are you asking me for? A list of demons? People you know?" After seeing the look on Ryan's face, Shane clarified, "I am the only demon you know, I'm pretty sure. I'd be able to tell if others were in the area and since I'm already here, they tend to . . . Stay away." 

"Does this have anything to do with what that . . . . ghost said back at the house." 

Ah, so Ryan had caught that. "Possibly. It's hard to tell what he actually knows and what he's heard. But to make an extremely long story short, I used to be pretty important down below. That was centuries ago, but-"

"Centuries?" Ryan squeaked. "Are you immortal!?" 

"I can be killed or exorcised, so no. I've just . . . happened to make it this far without either of those things happening. Guess you can say I live by luck." Or something like that. 

"Can you be killed by anything? Or does it have to be something special? Live werewolves and silver bullets? Or vampires and decapitation?" 

Shane raised a brow. "Are you thinking about trying to kill me?" 

Ryan deflated a bit. "No," he answered quietly. "I was just . . . wondering." 

"Then allow me to tell you that I really don't want to inform you of the best ways to do it, just in case." Just in case this isn't the end. There was no telling what would happen now that he knew about demons and hell and ghosts. Before, he could only speculate, which brought no harm to him, as numerous humans only speculate about the existence of the supernatural. However, now that he knows it's real and what it can do . . . Some otherworldly spirits might not be too keen on Shane having a human friend who knows. And if there's one thing demons like to do above the rest, its torture souls for information. 

"Okay. Sorry I asked about ways to end your life." 

Shane let out a laugh. "It's okay. I understand. The complentation . . . And the curiosity." 

"But you're not gonna die if I like, shoved you out the window or something?" Ryan asked. 

"Ryan!" Shane bellowed. "Are you really thinking about ways to hurt me without becoming a murderer?" Though he supposed he would deserve something like that. After lying to Ryan for all these years, he could only imagine the hurt his friend felt. When you feel like you know someone and then find out you never really did at all. Not completely. 

"No! But I do want to punch you in the face!" He couldn't help the small smile that formed on his face. He was still very pissed and actually still kind of scared, but his friend deserved to get punched. 

"That's hardly anything compared to falling out of a third story window," Shane pointed out. "But if you want to hit me that bad, go for it. I can take it." 

"I'm not so sure my hand could," Ryan admitted. He had never punched anyone in his entire life. "Besides, would you even feel it?" 

"I'm not an empty shell, Ryan. I feel pain and pleasure and everything in between." 

Ryan made a disgusted face. "I didn't need to know all of that." 

Shane shrugged. "Now you do. But I know what you were trying to get at, and though a punch in the face would not feel great, it would still probably hurt somewhat. Not as bad if I were to punch you in the face, though." 

"Because of your . . . Demon-ness." 

Shane snorted. "Yes, because of that. I'm a little stronger and more durable than you."

Ryan stopped pacing, looking at the empty wall ahead of him. "A little," he murmured. He turned to face Shane, taking a deep breath. "Do you feed off of me or something? Don't you need to . . . Eat emotions or something weird."

"I never have, and never will, feed off of you. Yes, I can 'eat' your emotions, as you put it, but I don't need to. Really the only thing that does for a demon is gives them a boost for a short period of time. Makes them stronger, deadlier. But I have no use for those things here. Even if I did, I wouldn't use you as a food bank." It would feel wrong. And he felt plenty powerful already without an emotional food source. 

"Am I not good enough to feed off of or something?" 

Shane barked out a laugh. "That's not it, Ryan. You're my friend, not my food supply. I'm sure your fear and nervousness tastes delicious. In fact, it entices me every time we go to a haunted location. But rest assured, you would know if I was feeding off of you. You'd be able to feel it." 

"You make me sound like some sort of desert," Ryan groaned. "And what do you mean I'd feel it? You don't have to like, bite me like a vampire  or something, do you?"

"Really, Ryan?"

"I'm just asking!"

"No, I don't vwant to suck your blood!"

Ryan made a face. "What a terrible Dracula accent." 

"I wasn't trying to win an Oscar," Shane scoffed. "But no, it's not like that. It's like . . . I don't know how to explain it. You'd just feel the emotion leaving you and it would make no sense. If you're full of fear and suddenly it starts draining away, but you know you're terrified, and don't feel it . . . It feels wrong. However, you could be . . . Influenced to not notice it happening." He could feel the confusion and fear coming in spikes from the guy. His emotions were all over the place. 

"Like mind control!?" 

Without sugar coating it, "Yes." 

Ryan swallowed. "You've never . . . Have you . . ."

"No, never," Shane said seriously. "It's not something I enjoy doing. And I especially would never do that to you." 

He let out a breath. "Okay." 

"You believe me?" Shane asked, curious. He was quickly accepting to all of this. It surprised him. 

"Yeah. I mean, you've been my friend for years. You're not . . . Like that, I don't think." Ryan seemed to ponder for a moment, but shoved the thoughts aside. "I have lots of questions. Probably too many, but the one that bothers me the most is why don't you look like a demon?" 

Ah, there it is. "I do. Just not to the human eye, if that's how I wish to appear." 

"What does that mean?" 

"To put it simply; magic. It's like a glamor, covering up the unpleasant bits." That was much easier to say than admitting he had horns, claws, and black eyes. 

Ryan looked over Shane, as if he were trying to see through the magic that hid what he really was. "I want to see it." 

Of course he would. But Shane would expect nothing less from his friend who has been trying to prove for years that this stuff was real. "It's not exactly nice to look at, Ryan. I want you to know that." 

"I think I can decide that for myself," he huffed. 

"If you think it's anything other than that, you're one kinky freak." 

Ryan laughed, rolling his eyes. "Just show me. Please."

"Since you asked so kindly . . ." He slowly let his magic fade away, allowing the horns to be revealed first. They twisted upright through his shaggy hair, curling down slightly at the tip. He let his fingers elongate and sharpen, showing the long claws that could easily tear open flesh. And lastly, with the blink of his eyes, they turned from their normal brown into solid black. 

Ryan only stared, not saying a word. His eyes raked over the horns protruding from Shane's head, and he slowly let his gaze fall to the long claws that used to be his fingernails. 

Shane said nothing, though Ryan's silence was deafening. He had warned him it wasn't exactly pretty to see, and this was only the bare minimum. If he were to reveal his entire self, his skin would vanish into burnt muscle and tissue, looking like something straight from a film. 

"You let me borrow . . . Your eyes." It wasn't a question, though it didn't really sound like a statement. 

"I let you borrow my sight, yes."

"And it let me see the ghosts." 

"That's right," Shane confirmed. 

"Have they been around this entire time? And I could just never see them? Have you known this entire fucking time and still played as if they weren't there and never had been?! You've been lying on the show this entire time!" He let out a sound of frustration. "You've been lying to me." 

Shane let his shoulders droop. "I'm sorry."

"Are you?" Ryan snapped, clearly mad. 

"I am. I don't like lying to you, if that's what you think. Ghosts aren't always at every location we go to. Sometimes, yes, but lots of times, no. Even if they are, they see me and take off for the night. Ghosts and demons aren't exactly on the same playing field. I just . . . Scare them off." 

"On purpose?" 

"It depends," Shane admits. "Some spirits are vengeful. Hateful. Like the one we saw today. He pushed you down those stairs, Ryan. I wasn't going to let him get away with that." He frowned. "Those ones, I take care of. Others just go running the minute I step through the front door. But the main reason I don't want them around is because I don't want you to get hurt. I failed today. I was careless, got stuck in a stupid devil's trap and couldn't do anything to help you. It could have been a lot worse than a tumble down the stairs, and I'm glad it wasn't. 

"I'm not going to apologize for looking out for you. Yes, I'm a massive dick and kept huge secrets from you, but you go out there and fuck with the supernatural, and let me tell you, nine out of ten times they don't appreciate humans treating their homes as famous attractions. So they do things. Influence them, make them sick, throw them out windows and down some stairs. All those reports you read in your 'case files' are probably true." He hated to shit on Ryan's beliefs like this, considering he was so passionate about the supernatural and the show he created around it, but he wanted the truth and that's what he was getting. 

"And you're why those things never happen to us?" 

"Yes." 

Ryan didn't know whether to thank him or hate him. It's not like Shane had been actively sabotaging the show. In fact, it's not like he even ruined it. They had plenty of good times, even if half of it was an act. Their fans really loved it, even if there was never any proof to back up Ryan's side of the argument. The whole skeptic versus believer concept sent people nuts. 

"I don't know what to say," Ryan admitted. "I'm mad but . . . I'm not." He let out a sad sigh, eyes casting downwards. " I don't know. This is just . . . Crazy. It's too much." He looked back up at Shane, at the horns on his head and the black eyes that stared right back at him. "I still want to hit you, but I also want to thank you, I guess? For not letting ghosts kill me. Or make me ill." 

"Anytime, Ryan," Shane said softly. "You're my best friend. I wasn't going to let anything happen to you." 

"But you could have . . . I don't know, ruined the whole show? Wouldn't that have been easier? Than going to these locations and scaring off ghosts and hoping things like today didn't happen?" 

In fact, it would have been very easy to make Buzzfeed Unsolved: Supernatural not exist at all. But they were seven seasons deep by now. "I could have done that, yes. And it would have  been incredibly easy to make happen in under seven minutes. But it was your creation that you really loved and were proud of. I may be a monster straight outta Hell, but I'm not going to ruin, quite literally, your life's work." 

Ryan smiled at that. "You're not a monster, Shane. Just a liar." 

"Wow, thanks," he deadpanned. 

Ryan laughed, moving closer to Shane. "I'm not gonna lie. This does freak me out and I'm sure I'll have a mental breakdown later in my room when I'm alone, but . . . Don't lie to me again. I'll stop fucking with the supernatural once we finish this season if it's really that dangerous." 

"Uh, it really is," Shane assured. "But only when I'm not around. Today was just a bad one. I'm surprised their devil's trap beneath the rug was even legit. Every other one we've ever seen has been a fake. You can't just draw them out of anything like stories suggest. Truly it's disrespectful." He shook his head. "I don't want you to stop doing this season of the show because of what you know now. If you want to stop, I want you to do it on your terms. But just know you're not going to expose me to the rest of the world with an iPhone and a flashlight." 

Ryan laughed loudly, letting out a wheeze. "I'll just replace the whole supernatural aspect with 'is Shane really a demon?' I guess the internet actually got one thing right. Even if it was just a stupid theory," he muttered. 

"The only correct theory they've ever had," Shane agreed. He blinked his black eyes away, letting the magic wash over him and cover up the claws and horns. "I promise I won't lie to you anymore. About me. About . . . The supernatural. All I ask is that you understand why I did it." 

The corners of Ryan's lips quirked up. "I understand. You're my friend." 

"You still want to be?" 

"Well, yeah. Everyone's got secrets, Shane. Yours just happens to be . . . Ridiculous." 

"Ridiculous!? Excuse me?" Shane scoffed. 

"It is. You look like a Halloween costume with that getup you just had. So, yeah, ridiculous." 

Shane let his eyes flash black. "I think you've already forgotten who you're dealing with." 

Ryan waved a hand dismissively. "Yeah. Big and lanky demon Madej." 

"Hey, how did you know my title down in Hell?" Shane joked. 

"No wonder the spirits don't like you. I wouldn't either if I had to address you with that long ass title."

With an eye roll, Shane shoved Ryan on the shoulder. "Shane will do just fine, human." 

"Whatever you say, demon." 

Shane flashed him a toothy grin, eyes still black. Maybe it did have good benefits for his friend to know the truth about him. But if there was one thing Shane knew, it was that every positive has a negative. 

But that, he thought, is for another time.