Chapter Text
At first, George wanted to decline.
But Sapnap would annoy the hell out of him and never stop begging until he would say yes.
He definitely wasn't afraid to walk through an old, musty, and most likely dilapidated building.
At least, that's what George told himself as he and his best friend stood in front of a suspiciously high fence that surrounded the villa's grounds.
The property was a bit away from any civilization, surrounded by dense forest and fog in the cold January air.
George felt like the main character in a bloody fucking horror movie.
He watched as his friend walked slowly along the fence, looking for something.
"What exactly are well looking for again?"
He asked, already in a sour mood.
Sapnap gave him a quick look over his shoulder.
"A hole in the fence George, god you're so enthusiastic."
The dark haired teased before continuing to squeeze his way through the bushes.
The brunette followed him, rolling his eyes, while looking at him skeptically.
"You know, you could've just said no, Karl would've gladly come with me and he wouldn't be so afraid."
"I'm not afraid."
George clarified.
Well, maybe a bit, he was just very tense and a bit snappy at the moment, but it's his own fault if he keept on teasing him all the way here.
"Exactly," The black haired hummed, unconvinced.
"Ah! I found it!"
Exclaimed Sapnap before George could spot a large hole in the fence.
He took a deep breath, he was secretly hoping they wouldn't find said passage in the fence so he could go home and back to his bed.
Why had they come here again at such an ungodly hour?
For the Vibe, as Sapnap had said so beautifully.
Even if. Knowing his friend, he probably would've forced him to climb over the fence before giving up and driving home.
"Let's goooo!" Yelled Sapnap as he squeezed himself through the hole and then looked expectantly
at his friend, still on the other side.
George followed him with a sigh, dissatisfied with the current situation, but couldn't help and smile a little at the excited expression on the other's face.
The two men followed a small trail before finally walking across the open grass towards the house, which was now clearly visible to them.
"Do you see that too?"
George followed his friend's pointing finger until he saw a dim light in one of the windows on the higher floor.
Immediately he stopped walking.
"Sapnap"
The other stopped too and turned around to stand face to face with him.
"That's it, we're turning around" Said George, staring at the light inside the house.
"What? Come on George, scared of some other people exploring the building at the same time as us?"
The black haired man laughed amused, not taking the situation seriously at all.
"You have no idea what kind of people that could be! What if they are some cult people or murderers?!"
Stunned, he watched as the other just shrugged his shoulders, as if he had not a single worry in the world.
"Nah, I think you worry too much, there are always people in places line this."
"Besides, I'm here, I'm protecting you from the evil cult people Gogy."
Added Sapnap before he turned again and started walking towards the building.
George was keen on just leaving, with or without the younger.
Eventually, however, he followed him.
Should he be brutally and slowly murdered, he would never let Sapnap forget it.
He would haunt his ass.
He glanced at the lighted window again, only to stumble, startled.
In the light of the room he recognized a dark silhouette that seemed to be watching the two.
When the figure noticed George looking at it, the person cocked it's head and slowly raised a hand to wave at him.
Something about that very gesture sent chills down George's spine.
He turned to Sapnap to draw his attention to the shadow in the window, but the shorter one had already moved too far and the person choose this exact moment to leave the window.
"Fuck," Cursed the Brit softly as he quickly caught up to his buddy.
Sapnap was at the front entrance now, looking for a way inside.
"I think we could squeeze through the window here."
He said as George came to a halt behind him.
The brunette sighed.
"You sure you fit through there?"
He asked, glancing at the window and then at his friend.
Offended, Sapnap shoved him lightly.
"Hey! You go in first for that comment" He decided with an evil grin and a hand movement to the broken window.
"Alright"
"Alright" Sapnap replied.
He just did it to prove to Sapnap that he wasen't scared.
So he stood in front of the window and tested with a few attempts how he should climb in.
Finally, the brunette swung his leg over and hoisted himself through the window.
Landing on the other side, he looked around carefully while he waited for his buddy to follow him inside.
"George?" Sapnap sounded uncertain calling for him and when George turned to him he immediately saw why.
"Are you kidding me?"
Sapnap shrugged and backed away from the window he couldn't seem to fit through after all.
"Ok, I admit, maybe I misjudged something."
Mumbled the dark haired one, a thoughtful expression crossing his face as he looked around outside.
"I think there were a couple of other broken windows back over there that I might be able to fit through." He guessed and turned back to the brit who gave him an annoyed glance.
"What? Not everyone can be a twink like you"
George just shook his head.
"What's the plan now?" He asked, the whole situation was more trouble than the experience was worth in the end.
George made a mental note not to accompany Sapnap to any more deserted places, no matter how much the other begged.
"Ok, so I'm looking for another entrance, but I don't know where and how we'll find each other again, so i guess it would be wise if you get back out here."
"What, Are you afraid to walk around alone now?"
Teased George with amusement.
Sapnap just sighed and gave him a waiting look.
"I want to get out of here as soon as possible, just give me one of the cameras so I can take your stupid photos and we'll meet back outside at the main entrance in an about an hour." Presented George his idea.
The younger seemed to consider it for a few moments.
"I guess we can take more photos that way, but are you sure you want to do this alone? We don't necessarily have to split up if you don't want to."
He gave George a serious look , who in return, gave him a short nod before accepting the camera that Sapnap had brought with him.
"We'll meet again in exactly one hour."
George said, he definitely wouldn't wait a minute longer for his friend if he didn't turn up in time.
"Got it Dad, just take some good pics for my insta and don't be too mean if you meet other people ok?" Joked Sapnap, causing George to exhale in slight irritation.
In his ideal vision, he wouldn't run into anyone, the last thing he needed was strangers and potentially weirdos.
"Be a minute late and I'll leave without you."
He said before turning away from his friend to decide which way to go.
"Oh and George? bring me something cool if you find anything!" The black haired shouted before he moved away from the window to go looking for his own way in.
Of course, George would gladly add burglary to his list of today's crimes.
Why did he allow himself to be persuaded to do this again?
Right, because he's a good friend.
George focused back on his task and looked around.
He was in the middle of the entrance area, with a choice of either two doors to the sides or a staircase to the upper floor.
Without further ado, he decided on the stairs, logically speaking it made more sense since Sapnap would come in somewhere in the lower floor and like this they could work better.
The interior looked just as George expected.
Old and visibly in danger of collapsing every given moment.
Walls were smeared with graffiti and furniture was missing or damaged.
Wallpaper was missing, plants were growing in some places and it generally looked just ransacked and devastated.
Definitely not a place where George wanted to stay for too long.
Especially not alone and with the possibility of running right into the arms of some stranger.
Speaking of strangers.
George stopped at the top, having a realisation.
Fuck.
The window from which he had previously seen the particularly ominous figure was on the upper floor.
Of course, George was the one to notice the person and then ran right into them.
Was it too late to turn back?
But he could do this, Sapnap would make fun of him if he turned back around now.
George would just snap some quick photos to make Sapnap happy and then he'd get out of here and wait outside.
No reason to stay here longer than necessary.
With that in mind, the Brit cautiously and tensely wandered through the various rooms, occasionally snapping a photo or two.
A particualy big door caught his interest next.
Corious he opend it and stepped in.
George guessed the room had to be the mansion's master bedroom, it was larger and despite its shabby condition, more upscale than the other bedrooms he had seen so far.
George waved his phone flashlight around as he took a closer look at his suroundings.
Strangely, the room seemed nearly undamaged unlike the other rooms nothing was missing and despite a thick layer of dust it looked completely untouched.
A little dusting, a fresh pair of sheets and you could propably move back in.
George chuckled a little while snapping another photo.
The room was quite deep in the house, he had walked for quite a while before he got here, other people propably don't usually dare to go that far into the house.
George certanly wouldn't have gone that far if he wasn't so determind on getting as many good photos as possible.
Now that he thought about it, the house, especially this room, had some odd aura to it.
It wasn't necessarily bad, George just felt a little crushed.
Maybe even a bit watched sometime, but he just put that down to the paranoia the abandoned building gave him.
Just as he was about to leave the room again, one last thing caught his eye.
George curiously moved over to the window to inspect the object that had caught his attention.
There on the windowsill was a single half burned candle.
Freshly melted wax was still inside and it still smelled vaguely of burnt wax and a hint of mint.
When he glanced out the window, George noticed which part of the house he was in.
A chill ran down his spine as he realized he was standing in the same window he had seen another person in less than an hour ago.
Ok, admittedly George was a bit scared now.
Initially, he had decided not to think about what he had seen and the fact that there was someone else walking around somewhere here.
But now the realization inevitably came to him that whoever was here still had to be near, after all there seemed to be only one flight of stairs and the building was so poorly soundproofed that George would've heard if another person was walking around.
Unless the person had never left this room.
George felt nauseous and his limbs were frozen in place.
He didn't want to think about being in the same room as the creepy person from the window, alone.
But he would definitely have heard it or noticed someone sneaking around, after all he could hear Sapnap himself from downstairs on occasion.
Then why would the they hide from him? After all, they hadn't had a problem interacting with him at the window either.
George was absolutely against the idea that the place was actually haunted, there were no ghosts.
There was no one here, especialy no ghosts.
He just chose to ignore the whole thing.
After al, ignorance was bliss sometimes, he would just pretend he hadn't noticed anything and walk out of here.
Determined, he turned and stalked toward the door before receiving the hardest jump scare of his life.
The door had probably fallen shut a bit when he came in and just left it open, but right there, on a hook on the door which was normally intended for jackets, hung a mask.
The white porcelain shimmered in the light of the phone flashlight and a black painted smile looked mockingly back at him.
Was that there before?
It was quite possible, since George of course hadn't checked the back of the door, why would he?
Taking a deep breath, George calmed down again, his heart was pounding in his throat and if he had had less self control he would've said a series of curses at this point.
That's it, no more spooky haunted places for George or he'd probably die of a heart attack or get arrested by the police.
Who the hell even left something like that in a place like this?
When thought anout, it was probably put there specifically to scare the shit out of people like George.
Funny.
As George continued to stare at the mask and slowly begin to move again, he remembered something Sapnap had said to him earlier.
Oh, Sapnap would shit himself if George brought him that thing.
The fact that it also scared him half to death was something Sapnap would never need to know.
So George grabbed the straps that hung the mask from the hook and took it with him.
He was a little surprised at how clean the mask was, with the rest of the building you would expect it to be covered in dust too, but it wasn't, the smooth surface of the mask didn't even have a single scratch on it.
Perhaps George should've listened to the alarm bells ringing in his head that moment, but stubborn as he was, he refused to leave the mask behind after all.
With said mask in his arms, George made his way back to the ground floor.
He was a lot more relaxed after leaving the bedroom without any problems and no one following him.
At least he thought so.
Now that he wasn't distracted from taking pictures anymore, he suddenly noticed a lot more things than he did on his way in.
The almost overwhelming silence, plus the generally tense atmosphere of the house, plus the ever increasing feeling of being watched.
He was completely alone, he was sure of that.
Still, he kept turning around just to check.
George still blamed it on paranoia.
Contrary to all his fears, George made it to the foyer without further trouble or incident, where he hurriedly climbed through the window and promptly crouched behind a bush a few meters away.
Sitting there in darkness he waited for Sapnap.
George had been through too much today to let his friend get away with it unscathed.
The brown haired looked down at the mask in his hands.
It was still giving him a crooked smile and something in George's gut told him not to put it on, but sacrifices had to be made to get back at Sapnap for dragging him to such a horrible place.
So he switched off his flashlight and put his phone away before lifting the mask and placing it over his face before clicking the buckles on the straps behind his head and finally sliding the mask to the side of his head.
He couldn't see through the mask, so he'd have to wait until the raven haired was within close range before he could pull it back over his face and jump out.
While he waited, his fingers brushed over the smooth porcelain of the mask, the material cool against his skin and lighter than he expected.
George was a little intrigued by the whole mask, it was such a weird thing to own, what use was a mask you couldn't even see through?
On top of that George had never seen anything like it, the diseign was so simple and yet there was something unique about it, something unsetteling.
While George was there, lost in his thoughts about the mask, he almost missed the moment when Sapnap walked past him.
George pulled the mask over his face just before jumping out and screaming.
In the same breath, the raven haired boy let out an even louder scream of fear.
Sapnap stumbled back, barely catching himself before falling flat on his butt.
Immediately George broke into hysterical laughter, the look on his friend's face almost making him forget the horror of this whole trip.
George took of the mask and braced himself on his knees to keep himself from falling over laughing.
"GEORGE!" Sapnap yelled, his voice shaking slightly and relief spreading across his face.
"What the hell dude, I thought you were some killer or something!" The younger snapped at him, a slightly amused smile stretching across his lips.
"Oh my god! You should've seen your face!" The Brit laughed while slowly calming down again.
Sapnap just shook his head and picked up his in shock dropped phone, he shone at the mask now in George's hands.
"What the fuck is that and where did you get that horrid thing from?!"
George lifted the mask up to give his friend a better look.
"Kind of cool, isn't it? I found it in one of the rooms." He said, intentionally leaving out all the details.
"That's super creepy man! That thing looks like it belongs to some serial killer."
Sapnap said, looking away from the mask's creepy smile.
It freaked him out.
"Let's go, I got what we came for and i don't wanna keep looking at that mask."
He changed the subject while lifting the camera around his neck.
George nodded in agreement, finally getting out of here and back home to his warm bed.
------
The days passed and George was about to forget the events surrounding his little adventure in the haunted house, at least until he noticed something on his body while taking a shower one morning.
"Oh God"
Exhaled George as he stood in front of his bathroom mirror while touching his bare chest.
Bruises spread over his upper body, up to the beginning of his neck.
Bruises that he couldn't remember at all.
Bruises that weren't there when he changed last night.
To say George was concerned would be an understatement.
What do you normally do in such a situation?
Probably not just pretending you didn't see anything like George decided to do.
However, he woke up the next morning with more bruises, this time on his neck, and with a sudden, chilling realization, he realized these were hickeys, not just bruises.
That was disturbing and extremely worrying.
Disturbing in the sense that George lived alone, was single and couldn't possibly be assaulted in his sleep.
Just to be on the safe side, he got himself a small camera that same day, which he cleverly hid in his bedroom and turned on in the evening before he went to sleep.
When George got up the next morning, the first thing he did was look at the camera footage for anything weird.
Relieved, he couldn't find anything suspicious, no strangers tampering with him, or any odd behavior of himself that could've caused this.
The shock the Brit fell into was all the harder when he looked at himself in the mirror that same morning.
Scratch marks covered his body, especially his upper torso.
From there it only got worse, every day George found new wounds on himself, sometimes he woke up in the middle of the night because one of the new scratch marks was bleeding and burning.
Weeks later, it had become routine to get up in the morning and take off his top first thing to tend his wounds.
He had no idea what was happening and how the wounds and bruises came to happen.
With the evidence from the camera, George was certain that it wasn't himself, nor was there anyone in his house doing this to him.
He would know, after all he had searched the whole house several times.
He'd gone as far as dressing extra thick and wrapping bandages around his chest, but it was all to no avail.
It was as if those things magically appeared on his body.
George didn't believe in the supernatural, but by that point George was so desperate for awnsers that he started researching on the internet.
There was simply no other explanation that would make sense.
George went so far as to ask a medium for help, it was after less then ten minutes that the woman, pale as death, came out and begged him not to contact her again before leaving him without further explanation.
That wasn't worrying at all.
So George kept trying to find a solution while still trying to live with this.
He had considered moving out, but somehow he felt like that wasn't going to help him much.
He should've figured it out much earlier, but he only got the ray of hope one morning when he stood in front of his mirror again and looked at his chest
It was as if a blockage in his head suddenly released what was preventing him from connecting the dots.
A smiley face was scratched into his left pec, just above where his heart was.
George stormed back into his room and yanked open one of his desk drawers.
The smile of the white porcelain mask greeted him and almost seemed to laugh at him for only now realizing.
Suddenly it made sense, this whole thing had started shortly after Sapnap took him to that damn haunted mansion, which resulted in him taking the mask home with him.
George sat down in his desk chair and cuped his face in his hands while moaning in desperation.
Of course, why did he have to take an extremely suspicious objects that turned out to be cursed?
His gaze focused on the provocatively smiling mask, while he made an decision.
If the mask was the cause of his suffering, then he would just have to get rid of it.
In the same breath he got up, grabbed the mask and his keys before leaving the house and making his way across town.
Eventually he found himself standing in front of a large container in the parking lot of a supermarket.
George dropped the mask in and listened with satisfaction as it smashed into pieces along with the other glass bottles inside the container.
Satisfied and with great relief, George went home that day.
It was as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders and for the first time in weeks George went to bed unconcerned .
Only for him to wake up in the middle of the night in a pool of his own blood.
Ice cold panic coupled with adrenaline allowed George to stumble into the bathroom to take care of himself that night.
Everything about his body ached, his back hurt the most, followed by his chest and neck.
As George leaned on the sink and looked in the mirror, he had to fight the urge to throw up.
His torso was full of smiling faces, so many that they partially overlapped, but they weren't the source of all the blood in his bed.
When the Brit turned around to take a look at his burning back, his eyes almost poped out of his head.
Deep scratches ran all over his back and George briefly considered calling an ambulance.
However, he had no explanation for the origin of his wounds and he didn't want to be brought to the nearest psychiatric facility because people thought he had done it to himself and was crazy.
So George swallowed the stomach acid that came up and began trying to stop the bleeding.
Shortly thereafter, his eyes fell on the rather small wounds on his neck.
He was dizzy and wasn't sure if it was the loss of blood or the fact that he discovered multiple fucking bite marks all over his sore neck.
They looked like they were of human origin and didn't bleed too much, but they hurt like ass and looked deep enough to naybe leave scars.
To be honest, this was the first time his wounds seem deep enough to scar.
He had no idea how, but somehow, hours later, he'd managed to stop the bleeding and completely covered himself in band aids and stuff.
He felt nauseous and dizzy at the same time as he took two painkillers at a time and finally dared to leave the bathroom again.
He turned on the light and was a bit startled at the sight of his bed.
It looked like he had murdered someone on it.
George decided to deal with his bed tomorrow as he definitely didn't have the strength to do so now.
As he made his way to his door to spend the rest of the night in the livingroom, something white flashed in the corner of his vision.
To his horror, he found a familiar porcelain mask
back on his desk, intact as if it had never been gone.
Taking a deep breath and with shaking hands, George opened the door and stumbled out into the hallway before slamming it shut behind him and sprinting into his kitchen where he filled himself a glass of water and then made his way into the livingroom.
It wasn't until he was sitting on the sofa and covered with blankets that George began to relax at least a little.
The mask was back.
Oh god, that damn mask was back in his room
George ran a hand through his sweat soaked hair, thinking.
What should he do now?
Whatever came with that mask was clearly mad at his attempt to get rid of it.
He thought back to the shape he had seen that day and realized that the mask he had carelessly taken with him must really be possessed by something.
Even with the new realization, he had no idea what to do about it.
Getting rid of the mask wasn't a good idea, the only thing he'd achieved by doing so was that he'd angered whatever that being was and then faced the full consequences of it's anger.
He couldn't even talk to anyone about it, Sapnap would most likely have him committed and think he has gone crazy, years of friendship or not.
Before his trip to the abandoned mansion, even George himself wouldn't have belived this story.
To be fair, George hadn't planned to fall asleep again, but he nodded off at some point and when he opened his eyes again it was light outside.
To his surprise, he found no other wounds on his body, but the mask responsible for this was on his lap.
George sighed in defeat, if he couldn't get rid of it then it might be better not to anger the associated ghost any further.
"What do you even want from me..." The brunette mumbled before getting up with the mask to clean up the mess in his bedroom and then eat something.
His room still looked as bad as before, though George immediately noticed that there was something on his desk where the mask had been during the night.
George recognized the camera he was using back then to shoot Sapnap's pictures for Instagran.
What a waste of time that was, in the end the black haired man said that he already had enough pictures on his other camera and that he didn't need George's after all.
His friend actually wanted to come pick up the camera, but hadn't found the time to do so yet.
There had to be something on the pictures if the being wanted him to look at them, maybe some sort of clue.
"Alright, here we go..."
He grabbed the camera and sat down on the clean end of the bed, Mask placed securely on his lap.
Cleaning could wait till later.
George turned on the device and slowly clicked through the photos he had taken.
In the first few pictures, the Brit couldn't find anything out of the ordinary, at least until he came to a photo taken in one of the old bathrooms.
George didn't see it at first, but when he took a closer look into the background of the soiled mirror, his breath quickend.
Behind George, just faintly visible in the frame of the door, was the silhouette of someone who seemed to be watching him.
George swallowed before looking at the next picture.
The image was focused on the many plants slowly reclaiming their habitat and spreading throughout the room, but again it was the shadow of a person that caught his attention.
In one of the back corners, again half shrouded in darkness, stood what was probably the same person as in the picture before.
On closer inspection, he recognized the white outline of a familiar mask, but George wasn't sure since it was too dark to really tell.
He glanced down at said mask, taking a quick break to regular his uneven breathing.
In the next picture it was a bit easier to locate the figure and finally he was able to get a closer look at what appeared to be a male figure.
The person was still hidden in the darkness of the background, but smaller details could be made out.
He looked a lot taller than George, broad shoulders and long limbs, he was wearing what appeared to be a hood and this time George could clearly tell that the person was wearing the same mask he had in his lab right now.
George took another moment to take a deep breath.
His heartbeat quickening.
Stomach acid rose in his throat again and if he would've already eaten something today, it would certainly have come up again by now.
The reason he felt like he was being watched the whole time was because he was actually being watched.
He had looked around the rooms every time, how could he not notice that he was being followed?
Unsure if he wanted to see more, George scrolled to the next photo.
Nothing.
This time the photo was empty, or at least George couldn't find a suspicous looking masked man.
In the next picture, George thought he could see a pair of eyes in the background.
On closer inspection, a pair of glowing green eyes were actually staring right at him.
The sight of the next picture hit the brunette like another jumpescare.
In his memoirs he had photographed the corridor, the walls were covered with moss and at the end of the corridor there was an old picture, a painting George couldn't remember exactly what it had looked like.
What was different this time was that George didn't recall photographing a man standing right in front of the painting and looking at him.
The moon's exposure was just right through one of the windows, allowing George to see more than just a rough outline this time.
It was a bit hard to tell, but the man was wearing dark leather trousers and a very vintage looking green shirt and black fingerless gloves, tugging his hands where they could be seen at his sides.
A dark green cloak hung around his shoulders, with a wide hood that hid what appeared to be dark blond hair and framed the white porcelain mask.
George turned off the camera and dropped it carelessly on the floor with a thud.
He stared at the wall opposite to him.
There was no way the man had been there without George seeing him, which somehow meant he wasn't visible to him, even though he was there, watching his every move.
Oh God.
Of late, George had resigned himself to the fact that something was haunting him, but having the final confirmation in front of him was something else.
There was absolutely no explanation for anything that happened to him that had nothing to do with the paranormal.
In the depths of his subconscious he was already aware of this before tonight, but now he had to fully admit it to himself.
The brunette's eyes snapped back to his camera when it made a noise.
George hesitantly picked up the device again and looked at the screen.
A new photo was shown to him.
Someone- whatever had wanted him to look at the photos in the first place, had taken a picture.
It was here, in the same room as George.
Watched him and waited for his every reaction.
The figure from the photos was right in front of his nose and he couldn't even see it.
Confirmation came as he looked at the new picture.
It was taken from the ground where George had dropped the camera. The picture was a little crooked and out of focus, just good enough to capture two pairs of legs standing seemingly in front of him.
George recognized the dark pants and dirty boots
from the other photos.
Sweat trickled down his temples and his body tensed momentarily before George, shakily, forced himself to take a deep breath and lift his head.
He looked to where he assumed the person in the photo to be standing, not even a meters away from him.
George could literally feel the Presence towering above him in his bones and the urge to run became more and more urgent.
Never in his life had George want to just run away and never stop running again, every piece of his existence cried out for him to escape and George was seconds away from giving in to the urge.
A sudden feeling of pressure on his left cheek brought the brunette man out of his panicked thoughs.
He stared tensely into the open air in front of him, nobody was there, and yet he definitely felt a hand on his cheek, slowly stroking his skin and moving down to his bandaged neck, where it seemed to remain for the moment.
Without really thinking about it, George lifted the camera slightly and pressed the button to trigger the camera.
The clicking of the camera, plus his own, far too erratic breathing were the only sounds George could hear.
You couldn't even hear the otherwise obtrusive traffic from the street in front of his house.
As if the world had stopped.
As if, like George, It too was afraid to do anything.
Suddenly the phantom fingers on his neck pressed into his skin beneath the bandages and George whimpered softly as one of the wounds on his neck reopened slightly, slowly staining the white bandage red.
The painful pressure on his wound eased and the hand seemed to relax again as it lingered almost apologetically over his now bleeding wound.
Another hand appeared on his arm and George struggeld to remain calm as the hand slid down his arm to his hand where it encased his and made him angle the camera further up.
George waited patiently for it to finish re-angling the camera and again the camera click echoed around the room before he slowly lowerd his head to look at the camera screen.
Ignoring the hands on his body as best he could, George looked at the first photo he had taken of himself.
From the perspective of the picture you could only see the green material of the cloak of the person in front of him.
The person in front of him.
This was real, whatever was watching him before he entered the mansion and then stalking after him and haunting his home was right in front of him.
So close that it touched him, so close that George could feel another person's warm breath on his face if he focused on it.
The hand lingering on his wrists began to painfully tighten its grip and George quickly began scrolling to the second image.
Relief spread through him as it loosened it's grip and began to draw gentle circles on his sensitive skin with it's thumb.
The last picture was pointed up far enough for George to see his own face staring ahead with a frozen expression.
George felt a lump form in his throat and his breathing quickened as he watched the familiar figure of a man towering over him, looking down at the camera.
The being that had been terrorizing him for months now, the man from the photos, stood right here, hand visibly wrapped around the brunette's delicate neck, chin just barely reaching above his hair, red blood dripping down his fingers.
This time there was no mask or hood over his face like in all the other pictures.
Instead, George saw the freckled skin, rosy lips twisted into a grin and glowing green eyes that George recognized from one of the other pictures.
If this were a normal person, George would've described him as attractive.
Since that wasn't the case, however, George pushed that thought far into the farthest corner of his mind.
The hand on George's wrist suddenly disappeared, only to reappear seconds later in his hair.
Long fingers slid through his soft brown hair and George almost leaned into the tender touch before he remembered that said touch came from an unseen, violent being who could've just as well been straight out of a horror movie.
As carefully as possible, George tried to move away from the hand, but to no avail.
Feeling uncomfortable, George began to squirm, hoping it would let go of him.
The being didn't seem to like this, however, since the fingers in his hair were now convulsively digging into his scalp and pulling at his hair.
"Ah!"
When the pain didn't subside and the hand in his hair forced him to tilt his head back, George began to panic.
The feeling of someone sitting on his legs and holding him in place made him close his eyes again.
He held his breath tightly, trying to keep the sounds of pain from escaping his tongue.
Determined not to give the creature the pleasure it was likely getting from his suffering, George tried to remain as still as possible.
Instead of whimpering in pain, he bit his lower lip as hard as he could.
The hand that was previously on his neck now moved up to his face.
Rough fingers almost cautiously stroked over his closed eyelids and the light tears that were slowly gathering from under his eyes.
Though George stubbornly tried to choke back his tears, he couldn't keep a few of them from escaping and trickling down his cheeks before gentle fingers caught them.
If George didn't know better, he would have assumed that two different people touched him.
Fingers stopped just below his left eye and began applying light pressure there.
For George it was immediately clear what the creature wanted from him, the gesture served as an unspoken order to open his eyes again.
The brit was afraid of what he would see if he followed the order and opened his eyes, nevertheless he decided to follow the wish of the other, even more scared of a possible punishment.
So George opened his eyes and looked at the ceiling of his living room in surprise.
Contrary to his inner expectation, the being had not decided to show himself to his teary eyes.
Despite this, George felt like he was making direct eye contact with the man whose hand was still pulling his hair painfully hard.
George could well imagine how pathetic he must be looking right now.
With his watery brown eyes, the painful position his head had to take in order to follow the hand on the back of his head and the way his chest was rising and falling far too quick with each shaky breath he took.
Not to mention that George felt drops of blood trickle down his chin from a small gash made on his lip after his front teeth had been permanently digging into his bottom lip for minutes.
He could almost taste the green eyed mans enjoyment over the picture George was, in his mind he saw the sadistic twinkle in poisonous green eyes and the way a wet tongue licked rosy lips as it gazed from tear filled eyes to bloody lips and back again.
Nausea rose in Georges throat caused by his own thoughts, plus the fact that this being could do almost anything to him and get away with it.
The wounds on his neck were stinging and George was sure his bandages were now soaked in red after being irritated and opened again by the unnatural positioning of his head and neck.
As so often in the past, the brit wondered how he got himself into this situation and when it would finally end.
He wondered when the paranormal being in front of him would finally let go of him.
When would it finally come to having had enough of George to leave him alone?
George could only imagine the grotesque satisfaction it got from beating him up and ripping him apart like this every night.
One would assume that George would be used to it by now, having gone through this horror over and over again in the last few months.
To a certain extent that was the true.
George was used to waking up in pain, he was used to patch up any wound himself, no matter how bad, and pretending it wasn't there afterwards.
But he wasn't used to being conscious throughout the procedure of the wounds happening.
And god, how he wished to be assleep right now.
Maybe this was his fault, if he hadn't provoked it by trying to dispose of the mask, if he hadn't woken up with deeper wounds than usual, he wouldn't be sitting here trembling with fear and in pain right now.
On the other hand, this could've been unavoidable and only a matter of time.
It would've only been a matter of time before terrorizing George in his sleep wasn't enough anymore.
Maybe it already wasn't enough anymore and now it hungered for more, having George conscious while having fun with him.
And meanwhile, George could do nothing but sit and wait for the monsters hunger to be satisfied.
At least that was what he was telling himself in his head.
It seemed to realize that its victim was no longer fully here, forcing George's head to tilt further to the side while the other hand found its way back around his neck, where it began mercilessly squeezing.
Gasping for breath, George turned his attention back to what he couldn't see, reflexively trying to grab the hand that was currently preventing him from breathing.
He was surprised when he actually got a hold of something.
He dared to look down and sure enough his hand grabbed something in the air in front of him that he couldn't see himself.
But he felt the strong forearm unter his hand and it was definitely there, he could touch it.
That was the moment George realized that just because something wasn't there to the eye didn't mean it wasn't there physical.
And this realization changed a lot for the struggeling man.
He had always naively assumed that because he could never see it, meant that logically he couldn't feel it either.
But it was here and definitely had a physical form, it just wasn't visible to his mind.
George didn't even notice the hand loosen again, letting him breathe again, too busy feeling the forearm in front of him.
He ran thin fingers over exposed skin that was so incredibly cold it couldn't possibly belong to a living human being.
Curious yet hesitant, George ran his hand further up, over smooth skin and scattered scars, until it met soft fabric.
The long sleeved top must've been rolled up to the elbows. George now ran his hand over the slightly crumpled fabric until he reached the other's chest where he stopped.
George felt around a bit and tried not to react when he found that he couldn't find a heartbeat and the figure's breathing was far too slow.
At the same time, George also realized that the hand in his hair was slowly but surely loosening and he was able to rest his head in a slightly more comfortable position.
He had no idea what was happening but decided to just go with the sudden turn of events.
So he let his hand wander furthe
up until he met cold skin again and his fingers could wrap around the other's neck.
He felt the being swallow, the movement of the Adam's apple under his palm gave that much away.
George didn't stay there long, his fingers sliding up until they came to rest on the beings jaw.
A strange curiosity welled up in George, a part of him wanting to know more, wanting to feel every single detail of the shape before him and burn it into his memories.
The other, more logical part of himself telling him to stop and run, it was practically screaming to push the person off him and get out of the house.
It seemed safer to George to let the part of himself that wanted to continue win.
After all, that seemed to be what the being wanted of him, judging by the now relaxed hands, one of which had returned to stroking trough brown hair.
So George watched as his hand visibly didn't seem to touch anything, even if he thought a few times that he saw something flickering in the air in front of him.
Fingers brushed over sharp cheekbones and surprisingly soft skin.
George kept his eyes trained on where he was sure a pair of glowing forest green eyes were staring back at him while holding his breath slightly as the figure leaned into his hand and let out a long breath of its own.
George didn't know what was happening, everything seemd a bit hazy and he didn't know what to feel anymore.
He wondered what exactly the man sitting in his lap was expecting from him, one moment cutting off George's breath and hurting him, the other letting the brown haired man touch him and seeming to enjoy the other's attention.
Maybe it was just seeking his attention, but didn't know how to get it.
Perhabs it was just the loneliness that made George think like that, even before this whole thing George had been a relatively isolated person, but since coming to the conclusion that something was haunting him, he'd consciously distanced himself from human contact.
God, he didn't even remember the last real conversation he had with Sapnap.
George couldn't help but think that the ghostly man might just be lonely, after all.
George couldn't imagine that a paranormal being had many opportunities to socialize with others.
In his mind, George slapped himself, hard.
He shouldn't sympathize with this creature, not when it has been inflicting countless wounds on him for months, exhibiting sadistic behaviors and George still had no idea what exactly he was dealing with here.
Nonetheless, the brit couldn't help but feel a little bad as he probed for possible reasons for the other's behavior, coming up with several theories in his head.
The brown haired man slowly drifted back into his thoughts as his second hand found itself on the beings other cheek, while he absently stroked over smooth skin.
George, to his logical side's displeasure, was beginning to feel comfortable with the current situation and for the first time in weeks he felt like he could really relax.
George wondered if he was developing Stockholm Syndrome.
It was funny that he was now enjoying the touch of an unknown being after everything it had done to him, just because it had been the only contact he had been offered in a while.
George would give anything to know what the being in front of him was thinking and what its motives were.
It wasn't like he could just ask, George didn't think he had the courage to raise his voice right now.
Who knows if it was even able to answer him.
Curiosity arose in him, there was so much he didn't have an answer to, the longer he thought about the being, the longer the list of questions he internally had became.
The hunger for knowledge burned through the brits body like a wildfire and he spontaneously decided to make it his mission to find out more about the ghostly man.
It was funny how he had gone from desperately looking for a solution to his haunting problem to dull acceptance and now burning curiosity.
But if George semmingly couldn't get rid of the apparition anyway, then he would at least try to find out what this being was and what it wannted from him.
Maybe, just maybe he could still find a way to get rid of it.
Exactly, that was the end result George wanted.
At least until now.
Silently, George wondered how and where to start looking for answers.
On one hand, he could return to the place where it all began, but upon further thinking, George decided he wasn't ready to go back to the mansion in the woods just yet.
A visit to the local library seemed to make the most sense to him.
Even if he didn't know exactly what he was looking for, he would find something there.
Libraries always seemed to have the answers in movies, so why not give it a try?
While George was busy putting together a plan, he heard a soft sigh that definitely wasn't coming from him and the next moment the weight on his legs and the hands on his body disappeared.
This caught the young mans attention.
He furrowed his brows in wonder as his own hands reached into nothing and he realized that the presence had left him.
George should be relieved, to some extent he was, but a small part of him missed the ghostly mans presence.
From that moment on, George finally concluded that he was definitely starting to go insane.
After spending a few minutes composing himself, George got up, determined to make his way to the library immediately.
The mask, which was now lying on the small table in front of him, was the only thing he took with him, besides his car keys, before he disappeared out the front door.
The drive to his destination wasn't long, just long enough to think about what exactly he would be looking for there.
He came to the conclusion that there had to be some book that held the awnsers to what the mansion and the mask was all about.
Something must have happened there and George was determined to find out.
With the absolutely inconspicuous mask under his left arm, George entered the library and made his way directly to the old librarian who was sitting behind a counter leafing through a book.
He simply didn't have time to spend hours looking for a book that might not even exist, so who better to help than the old lady with her round granny glasses and wrinkles?
"Excuse me?"
Slightly surprised, the woman looked up from her book and gave him a small smile when she saw George in front of her.
"What can I do for you, boy?"
George suppressed the urge to correct her, he was 25 not 15.
He nervously played with his hands, while thinking about how to ask her his question.
Thinking how small the chance was that what he was looking for actually existed.
It was worth a try tho, even if he ended up going home with empty hands.
"I'm looking for a book about something very specific." George started, in his head he was still trying to figure out how to explain his situation without coming across as crazy.
The old lady continued to smile at him.
"I've been working here for more than two decades, I'm sure if there's a book here that can help you, I'll know." She kindly assured him.
George felt strangely safe here, plus it was nice to be able to talk to a real human again after a long time of isolation.
"I'm looking for a book that can tell me something about the old mansion up in the forest."
George prayed silently that she could help him, if not then his only other option was to drive to the mansion and seek answers there.
The lady curiously raised an eyebrow at him.
"That old ruin? Why are you interested in it?"
She seemed a bit skeptical and George couldn't help but think she had to know something.
Hopefull, George placed the white mask on the counter before he spoke.
"A friend and I went there a while ago to explore the place, I found this in one of the rooms, I took it with me and since then, weird things have been happening to me that I need answers to."
As he spoke, George watched as her eyes widened at the sight of the mask and grew larger as his brief narration progressed.
She was silent for a short while and seemed to be thinking hard about something before she put down her book and stood up.
"Come on, let's talk in peace."
She said, pointing to a door behind the counter.
George grabt the mask and followed her, ignoring the tingling in his fingertips that arose as he touched the mask's cool material.
The room the woman led him into wasn't big, full of old bookshelves and livingroom like furniture.
He sat down on the sofa opposite to the lady, the mask on his lap and his hands folded nervously.
The old woman sighed a little and gave George a serious look.
"I'm afraid the book you're looking for dosn't exist." She told him.
Concealing his disappointment as best he could, he nodded and waited for her to continue.
"However, I can tell you the history of that mansion, my family has lived here for generations and I'm not unfamiliar with the stories about the villa."
George nodded again, this time with more enthusiasm.
His hope growing once more.
"I'm not exactly sure when it all happened, but it was before my father was born, my grandfather often told me about the things that took place in the forest."
Impatiently, George tried to absorb every word she said.
"If there are stories about the place, why aren't they written down anywhere?" He asked.
"I also wonderd about that as a kid, my guess is that people just tried to forget everything back then, it was just a small town back then so I'm not surprised that nothing was ever written about it and over the years It has probably been forgotten."
Understanding, the brunette nodded again, curious about the answers he would now finally get.
"My grandfather spoke of a murderer who lived here at the time, who is said to have lived deep in the forest."
George swallowed, that was definitely not what he was expecting.
"A murderer?"
The woman nodded.
"I don't know too much, but he is said to have been untraceable, he brutally killed his victims and distributed them throughout the village."
George felt sick, not for the first time today and certainly not for the last.
Her eyes focused on the mask and darkened a bit.
"You said, you found this in the mansion?"
George nodded.
"People say the killer carved a smilie mark into his victims, looking just like the one on that mask."
George felt the blood drain from his face as he paled.
"You mean that..."
"You really found it in the mansion?"
George nodded completly serious.
He still tried to process all the information he just got.
"The mansion was never searched trough, one day the killings suddenly stopped and when the building was found the people were too scared to go in, telling those who did that it was cursed and the killer was still hanging around there." The lady spoke seriously, her gaze focused on George and the mask.
"May I take a closer look at it?"
George just silently handed her the mask, too busy trying to organize his thoughts.
It was all pretty much to process.
Aside from that, a slight panic flamed up in him, whatever was stalking him was tied to the mask, if it belonged to some ghost of serial killer then George had a good guess of who was haunting him, it would explain a lot.
"You shouldn't have taken that mask with you." Mumbled the old lady as she put the mask back on the table.
"I know, I've been trying to get rid of it but- I can't." He looked away, embarrassed that he was stupid enough to take it with him and then failing to get rid of it.
She rubbed her chin, thoughtfully before speaking to him again.
"You said strange things have been happening to you since, tell me about them."
And so George told her everything from the uncomfortable feeling he felt inside the mansion to the wounds and his failed attempts to get rid of the ghost and the mask.
The only thing he left out was the events of this morning, he thought it was wiser to leave that out.
At first he thought she was going to think he was crazy and not believe a word he said, but instead she listened patiently, nodding sympathetically every now and then and giving him a thoughtful look after he had finished his story.
At that moment George realized how good it felt to finally let it all out and not have to carry the burden of events on his shoulders alone anymore.
"I've heard similar stories from people that own posses haunted stuff, but never to this extend." Is what she murmured.
"I have no idea what he wants from me and how to get rid of him." George admitted, sinking against the back of the sofa.
George had came to the conclusion that the mask belonged to the mysterious killer and his spirit must be connected to it, which led to George taking the spirit home with him and now it refuses to leave him again.
"I can't put myself in a killer's mindset, but something about you must've piqued his interest, though I can't tell if that's a good thing or a bad thing."
Yeah, George didn't really know that either.
"I mean, I'm still alive." George said, certain that if the ghost could hurt him then there was no doubt that it could also kill him if it really wanted to.
"You absolutely have to get rid of the mask, as soon as possible."
George was aware of this too.
"I don't know how." He said truthfully.
"You said you were considering going back to the mansion, I think maybe that's your only chance of getting rid of the mask, bring it back to where you found it."
"I can't go back there!" George spoke as he felt panic rising up again.
Concern was flashing in the older woman's eyes as she studied the exhausted young man in front of her.
"I'm afraid you have no other choice."
George was about to say no again, until he looked past the woman and noticed another person in the room.
At the far end of the room, leaning against one of the bookshelves, was the unmasked man George recognized from his camera.
Only this time he could clearly see him.
Green eyes met brown ones, George forgot how to breathe for a moment and the woman across the table quickly realized something was wrong.
She looked at him expectantly, as if expecting him to say something, but George continued to look over her shoulder, mute.
His gaze frozen on the grin the blonde threw at him from across the room.
George swallowed, unsure if he could continue questioning the woman in front of him without endangering himself or her.
He knew what the being was capable of.
"He's here, isn't he?" The woman's question brought George's attention back to her.
He didn't know if and how he should answer that, but he didn't seem to have to do so to confirm the woman's suspicion.
She seemed to already know the answer to her question and the brit was surprised at how calmly she took the situation.
"You can see him." She stated as he kept glancing behind her.
George nodded this time, wondering if she would be able to see the man behind her if she turned around.
The blond made a slight head movement in the direction of the door and George immediately understood what the other wanted from him, only he didn't know if he was ready to follow yet.
There were still some things he wanted to ask, but the ghost seemed to have other plans.
Sweat slowly gathered on his temples as he considered his options.
He looked away from the green-robed man as he decided to ask one last question.
He looked the old lady in the eyes and asked what seemed the most important question to him of all the questions floating around in his head.
"Did anyone ever find out who he was?"
George didn't dare look back at the ghost, instead focusing completely on the woman in front of him.
She bowed her head slightly and seemed to search her head for the answer before speaking again.
"There was a man in the village who disappeared about the same time the killings stopped, his name was Clay, but no details of his disappearance had ever been found out, people of course had theories but the identity of the killer remaind a mystery, the local people had given him a name tho, but I can't really remember it anymore..."
George nodded thankfully and rose from his seat.
"I think I should go." He was worried about further angering the killer's spirit if he stayed here any longer.
A quick glance in said man's direction confirmed his suspicion that it would be best to leave already, the man looked anything but amused and George could only hope that the old lady would be okay after this.
Sharp eyes forced George to maintain eye contact as the man raised an arm and gestured towards the door again, more forcefully this time.
His facial expression was dark and hard, George could only imagine the punishment he would face if he defied the other's request again.
"You really helped me, but I really have to get going now, thank you for your time." The Brit spake as he said goodbye to her and hurriedly headed to the door.
The woman reluctantly asked him to take care of himself while she said goodbye.
"And George?"
The young man jerked to a halt in the doorway, surprised because he had never told the woman his name and cause the voice certainly wasn't hers.
It was hers, just as if a second, deeper voice was speaking over hers.
As George slowly turned around, he found that she was looking directly at him and there was a green gleam in her eyes that definitely wasn't there before.
"Come to the mansion" Were the words that were thrown his way before she started blinking hard and her eyes lost the green glow.
Without further comment, George left the room and hurriedly walked back to his car, where he sat in his seat and took a deep breath to calm himself.
That towards the end was definitely not the woman who had spoken to him and George wondered if the spirit could just posses people like that.
The voice in his head that had been demanding knowledge and answers was now louder than before the visit to the library and George knew he had to get back to that damn ruin in the woods.
Even if he really didn't want to.
But it was what the being that haunted him wanted from him and George didn't want to know what the blonde would do to him if he just drove home and pretended nothing happened.
At the thought of the murderous ghost, George suddenly realized that he had forgotten the mask that went with it back in the library.
Panic rose in him immediately, what if the ghost thought George had left it behind on purpose?
Pain ran through the body of the brunette at the thought of getting punished again, the still fresh wounds from last night only reminded him of what the being was capable of.
Would he forgive him if he ran back to get it now?
Stressed out, he ran his fingers through his messy hair before his eyes fell on the passenger seat and a real burden fell from his heart.
George had never been so happy and relieved at the sight of the white mask as he was at that very moment.
A relieved sigh escaped George.
Even if he was sure that he had actually left it inside.
To be honest, he didn't want to know exactly how it had found its way back into his car, nor did he want to know what the stain of fresh blood on the mask was all about.
He simply turned around again and started the car to make his way to the villa.
On the way to the forest, George pondered what exactly he should do there, several scenarios ran through his mind and none of them really looked rosy.
Just before he stopped in the parking lot in front of the forest, he started to think about his life.
He suddenly realized that he might never leave this forest again once he went inside.
He could die today, worst case scenario.
As he thought about it, he grabbed his cell phone and dialed a familiar number.
"Please answer, please answer," He murmured under his breath, hoping his friend wouldn't ignore his call like George did when the other tried to reach him over the past few weeks.
Pure relief shot through him when his friend finally picked up after the third ring.
"George?" The confused voice of his best friend greeted him and again the brit swore he had never been so relieved as now.
"Sapnap" He exhaled and suddenly realized how tired he sounded.
"George! Dude, what the hell is up with you lately? Do you know how many times I've fucking tried to reach you?!"
George grimaced in shame, remorse for every time he had pushed the black haired man away.
"I'm sorry" Was all he could say back, having no idea what to say to his longtime friend after ignoring him for so long.
George just wanted to hear his voice for what might be the last time.
"George..." Sapnap sounded exhausted, as if he didn't know what to say himself.
"I'm sorry, really, I don't know what's been wrong with me lately, it's just really messy right now.."
George broke the silence.
He was actually sorry, but there was no way he could tell Sapnap the truth.
He heard the other take a deep breath and George could imagine the raven haired running a hand over his face.
"You've been acting weird since we went to that stupid haunted mansion, I'm just worried about you." Explained Sapnap.
George closed his eyes and sat back, unsure how to answer that.
"Is it my fault? I know you didn't really want to come with me and I shouldn't have left you and- I'm sorry, I don't know exactly what happened, but I'm sorry."
The feeling of tears welled up in his eyes as he listened to his friend and George swore this was worse than any night he had awakened in pain before.
Hearing that his friend was feeling bad because of him wasn't what George wanted to know from that phone call.
What was he even thinking?
Sapnap would worry even more after this, but it was better than never hearing from George again.
"Sapnap" George tried to get his best friend's attention, who didn't even seem to hear him.
"I shouldn't have just ignored your concerns, especially knowing that there were other people around, was that it? did you also meet anyone and didn't tell me? Did something happen?"
Sapnap mumbled an apology again, but George was too focused on repeating his friend's words in his head.
"Also? Sapnap, you never told me you meet other people." George said, trying not to sound alarmed as not to worry the other any further.
All the alarm bells were ringing in the Brits head.
"Because I didn't want you to get upset any further." Said Sapnap, who seemed to have calmed down a bit now.
George glanced at the mask on his passenger seat, praying that the theorie in his head was wrong.
"Who did you meet Sap?" He asked as calm as possible.
The black haired boy hesitated a bit before he began to talk, whereby George's blood froze more and more with every word.
"His name is Clay, tall, blond, freckles, green eyes, totally your type, he was actually quite nice and we talked for a while before he went to look for his friends."
"We were talking about you and he seemed genuinely interested, man I still regret not asking for his number for you."
George covered his mouth with a hand, nausea and absolute terror spreading through him at the thought that his friend was alone with the ghost of a murderer and anything could've happened to him without George ever knowing.
Also, it meant that the ghost was somehow after him even before he found the mask, at that moment George even questioned whether the mask had even been in the room before he entered, or whether it had been there on purpose just so that he would take it with him.
Incidentally, the probable identity of the murderer was revealed to him.
"George? Are you still there?" His friend's voice brought him back to here and now.
"Yeah, everything ok" George replied softly, still a little shocked by the information his friend had withheld from him.
At least he could now place a name on the ghost with certainty.
"Clay" George experimentally rolled the name over his tongue, quiet enough that his phone couldn't pick it up.
A loud noise from outside his car startled George and by the confused 'Huh?' coming from his cell phone, it probably could have been heard over the phone too.
George looked out the windshield and found himself less than surprised when he saw the freckled, green-eyed man standing in front of his car, his hands placed on the hood after loudly slaming them down there.
George wondered if the ghost had responded to his name, or if he was just getting impatient that George was wasting so much time on the phone.
Contrary to his expectations, the man didn't look impatient or angry, he just tilted his head and fixed George with a glint in his eyes that he couldn't understand.
Sapnap, who had tried several times to regain his best friend's attention and was beginning to worry again, let out a relieved breath when the Brit finally spoke again.
"I have to go but it was nice talking to you again Sap." George said, his heartbeat calming down again, as the ghostly man gave a satisfied nod at his response.
Also, he noticed that the man appeared slightly transparent now that he could see him outside in the sunlight.
"What? What just happened to George?!"
Came Sapnap's voice through the speaker of his phone.
"Nothing, everything's ok, but I really have to hang up, ok? I'm a little... busy" George tried to explain without it becoming even more obvious that something was actually wrong.
Luckily for him, the other seemed to believe him for now.
"Ok, but please don't ignore me again for the next three weeks or I'll have to force myself to break into your house." Sapnap said and something told George that the statement wasn't meant entirely as a joke.
He smiled slightly, still looking at the waiting man in front of his car.
"I can't promise anything, but I'll try."
Sapnap laughed a little.
"Just call me back when you're done with whatever you're doing." He said and George felt guilt building in his stomach.
Still, he tried to answer as enthusiastic as possible before saying goodbye and hanging up.
George closed his eyes as he pocketed his phone and then wiped his face.
Somehow he had the feeling that he wouldn't get to talk to Sapnap again anytime soon.
He had pushed aside the hope of getting rid of the mask in the villa and driving home about half an hour ago.
It didn't seem like George had any choice but to just accept what was to come.
When the brunette caught himself and looked up, the blonde had disappeared and was nowhere to be seen.
With a mix of emotions and a heavy heart, George grabbed the mask and stepped out.
In complete silence he made his way through the shady forest path.
George felt like a pig on its way to the slaughterhouse, with the way the entire forest seemed to have fallen into an oppressive silence, as if the animals and the plants knew of the fate that awaited the brit
And so George continued on his way until he finally stood in front of the doors of the mansion and reached uncertainly for the doorknob.
To his surprise, the door wasn't locked anymore and it was different inside than the last time he was here.
It seemed cleaner and somehow more modern, as if George had jumped back several years to a time before this place was dilapidated and desolate.
George barely noticed the door slam shut behind him, too busy looking around.
He wasn't sure what exactly he was expecting, maybe that the blond ghost would await him here, or something along those lines, but not that it suddenly looked livable again.
Confused yet curious, George made his way up the stairs and through the house.
If nothing awaited him in the foyer of the house, then perhaps in the room where he had found the mask.
So as he walked trough the halls, he wondered how a few differences in the decor of a house could make such a big difference in the atmosphere.
Unlike his first visit here, George didn't feel the need to turn around every few steps, he didn't feel uncomfortable or watched.
Maybe he should be more concerned about that, but a part of him was grateful not to have to go through the old, run-down interior of the house again.
It wasn't long before George was at the door of his destination.
With a deep breath, George pushed open the door and stepped resolutely into the room.
Only to be faced with nothing again.
Dissapointed, he sat down on the finely made bed and looked around helplessly.
It still looked almost exactly as George remembered, which confused him all the more.
There had to be something here, something he must have overlooked.
Clay wanted him to come back here, so there had to be something important here that the brunette was missing.
Clay.
George let his eyes drift to the mask in his hands and got an idea.
He got up and walked towards the door, hurriedly shutting it and looking at the hock on the top half of the wood.
Without thinking twice, George lifted the mask, hung it on the way he'd found it months ago, and took a few steps back.
The brunette stayed like that for a few minutes and waited silently.
Only to be disappointed when nothing happened.
Frustration was slowly building in the man as he continued to stare at holes in the white china.
He had no idea what game the ghost was playing with him, but George had had enough, he wanted answers, answers only one person could give him.
"Clay?" George called loudly, hoping the blonde would respond to his name, like he did before.
Just as George let out a frustrated sigh and slumped his shoulders, something shifted in the air behind him.
"It's been so long since I last heard that name."
George turned around abruptly, in front of him stood the familiar figure of the green-clad man.
The shorter brunette looked up at the significantly taller man a little nervously.
George swallowed, his voice suddenly unavailable.
"George"
The person spoke.
George blinked, somewhat surprised by the softness in the other's voice.
In general, the blond looked at him so friendly that George wondered if this was the same being that had been causing him pain just a few hours earlier.
Satisfied with the Brit's attention, the green-eyed man gently grasped the other's chin.
"Do you know how long I've been waiting for you?"
George blinked in confusion while the ghost laughed softly and continued to stroke his face with his hands.
"What?" Ask George quietly.
"Don't strain your pretty head too much, Georgie"
The other's words only confused George more, nothing made sense to him right now.
He came here hoping to finally get all his questions answered, instead he just got more questions and it didn't seem like the blonde was planning on answering anything.
"You can call me Dream."
Chanced the man the subject, while he pulled the confused Brit closer to his chest.
"Welcome to your new forever home, George"