fic - 13 Ghosts
Title: 13 Ghosts
Author: brandywine421
Prompt Number: 16
Rating: R for violence, gore, language.
Characters/Pairings:Merlin/Arthur, past Arthur/Gwen. Gwaine & Lance being bros.
Warnings: Hopefully it's creepy!
Summary: Loosely follows the plotline of the failtastic 13 Ghosts movie. Arthur inherits a house that is not what it seems.
Notes: I love this cheesy movie and I love this prompt! Apologies for this Americanized take on the characters and the resulting ooc interpretions.
Arthur skimmed his inbox to see if there were any new messages about his recent job interviews. A reminder to give blood, a notification that his bank account was below 20$ and a link to a cat riding a jet ski from Lancelot were the only new messages. The cat was cute, but not enough to make him smile. Not today.
Today was just another day of disappointments. Another day of existing and not living. Another day that he would accomplish nothing other than freeloading off his best mates and being useless.
His life wasn't supposed to be this way, his life was supposed to be awesome. He had a wife that loved him dearly and great job at the toy company his grandfather had built from the ground up. He was supposed to have 2.5 kids and a dog and a savings account filled to the brim.
But that wasn't his life. The Pendragon curse had found him and taken everything. Guinevere was gone, the company was forcibly shut down, and all his money had gone to the courts for his grandfather's crimes.
The company's failure wasn't his fault. He honestly knew nothing about the child labor and blackmail branches of the business. Arthur was off the hook for the actual crimes but on the hook for the fraud penalties because the case had taken money from everyone else already.
Gwen was his fault. No matter how many times his friends told him that her death was accidental, if he'd been home on time - she would still be alive.
He couldn't think about Gwen. It wasn't allowed. She'd died two years ago and he couldn't dwell on it any more.
He was all about moving on. It was actually making it happen that was his sticking point.
He closed the laptop and took a deep breath. Merlin told him every morning: Another day, another chance.
He opened the door and heard the shower running down the hall. Gwaine, most likely. He worked nights on a road crew painting lines and setting up barricades on the freeway. Someone was always home. It was comforting in a frathouse kind of way.
Four guys in a two bedroom apartment and only one with a consistent job would have been cool when they were in college, but they were all pushing thirty. Gwaine was still humping anything that moved, Lancelot was still serial dating to find flaws in everyone and Merlin...well, Merlin was just Merlin.
He knew Gwaine and Lance from college, before Gwaine flunked out and Lance left on a three year spirit walk in Tibet.
Merlin had been Gwen's best friend since she was two. She called him her first love and her first heartbreak when he told her he was gay. Merlin had become Arthur's best friend, too, early into the marriage. He'd been with Arthur through everything and he can honestly say he would have given up if Merlin hadn't stuck by him.
This was Merlin's apartment and he had taken in Arthur, and his aimless friends, without blinking an eye. The two of them both had holes in their heart from Gwen's death, but while Arthur filled his with apathy and woe; Merlin filled his with charity. He was a pediatric nurse making shit pay at a free clinic but he always had time for his friends. For Arthur.
"Hey. You should make me breakfast. Bacon and eggs and all the fixings," Merlin said cheerily, seated at the counter with a Starbucks cup in his hand.
"You're vegan, you don't eat any of that," Arthur replied.
Merlin smiled. "Lancelot still falls for that sometimes. How's today?"
"Still unemployed. But awake, so that's good," Arthur answered.
"You got a package," Merlin said, motioning over to the kitchen table. "Gwaine wanted to open it but Lancelot threatened him with laundromat duty."
"God, I hate laundromat duty," Arthur said.
"I'm never going to take rent from you guys if it means I have to do chores," Merlin said.
Arthur took the package over to the counter and sat down beside Merlin. "You're just lazy."
"Says the guy who eats Cheetos for lunch every day because he doesn't want to wait for the microwave," Merlin snorted. He would be insulted about the comments if anyone but Merlin was saying them to him.
He wiped a nearby fork clean on his shirt and stabbed into the packaging to open the box. Merlin immediately took the manila envelope on top and Arthur resigned himself to investigate the lockbox with the key taped to the top.
"That's convenient," he muttered. Not really safe but easy. He opened the box and blinked at the gold jewelry and tiny satchels of sparkling diamonds. "What the fuck." The key was taped to the top of something with diamonds inside?
"Arthur. I'm so sorry," Merlin said quietly, holding out a typed letter.
Mr. Arthur Pendragon, I am sorry to inform you that your father, Uther Pendragon has passed away in a tragic accident.
"I thought he was already dead. No one's seen him for years. I was fifteen when he disappeared. What the hell," Arthur whispered. He read the next line.
Mr. Pendragon bequeathed his entire estate to you, his only son. Payment was deducted from the estate for burial expenses and legal fees as accounted for in the enclosed will. I have included the contents of his safety deposit box and the key to the Pendragon Chateau. As stated in the included will, Mr. Pendragon requested the home not be sold to anyone unrelated to him by blood. I would be pleased to meet with you in person as executor to show you the Chateau and discuss any questions and assist in the transfer of assets to your accounts. Sincerely, Nimueh Lake, LL.M.
"Oh my God. Merlin. I think you might have to start doing chores again," Arthur said.
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Arthur collapsed on the couch after a long day spent with lawyers and bankers and salesmen. He was disappointed that no one was home but he appreciated control of the TV for once and flipped it to music videos. Merlin liked music videos, too.
The money would help him get back on his feet. He could go back to school or start his own business - he could do anything now. He could give Merlin the home he deserved where he wouldn't have to work so hard and could have his own car instead of taking the bus.
Arthur had been with a lot of girls before he married Gwen. But he'd been with a lot more guys before that. He'd been appreciative of Merlin; he was lithe and graceful yet clumsy and clunky in equal measures. If Gwen hadn't been the love of his life, Merlin would have been his type.
Now that she was gone, Merlin had become something different. More than a friend, more than a lover - but a partner the way Gwen never got the chance to grow into.
It was still undefined, unspoken. But they shared a bedroom for months and now they were sharing a bed.
Merlin wasn't Gwen. He had the same open heart and enthusiastic love of life but he wasn't Gwen. Arthur didn't love him the way he loved her. Gwen hadn't made him feel the way Merlin does now.
Neither one of them would admit to making the first move, that would require them to admit what they were doing when they turned off the lights.
Arthur wasn't ready to take it to the public level. He didn't have anything to offer Merlin. This inheritance would give him the balls, he hoped, to ask Merlin to share more than his bed with him. To share a future.
He was still mourning Gwen. He would always mourn Gwen. But Merlin was the one bright spot in his sputtering life and he wasn't willing to give that up if he couldn't have Gwen.
"There's our new meal ticket! Hola, Arthur," Lancelot smiled, taking the couch beside him.
"He had a date with a hot Columbian chick yesterday, he's on a Spanish jag," Gwaine said, picking up some movie night detritus so he could take the recliner. "Did you get any more boxes of money today?"
Arthur flipped him off. "I did get a lot done. I think I'm going to move into the house," he said.
"No shit, Sherlock. You can't keep living here if you can actually afford a place with a washing machine," Gwaine snorted.
"This place has eight bathrooms and sixteen bedrooms. It has 2 laundry rooms," Arthur said.
"Now you're just bragging," Lancelot said.
Arthur smiled and Lancelot swatted him. "Asshole."
"Once I talk to Merlin, I might have an offer for you," Arthur said.
"What kind of offer? Free money?" Gwaine perked up.
Arthur rolled his eyes. "No. I was thinking more of employment. The house is going to need a lot of upkeep, but I want to get Merlin out of this shitty apartment. He's done a lot for me and I can't leave him stuck here so I have to convince him to move into the house, too," he said.
"No arguments from us, Arthur. We owe him a lot, too," Lancelot said. "You know he's not going to quit his job, though."
"He will if I can make him go back to med school," Arthur said. "But that's for a later discussion. Look, I can handle the numbers part of this; it's the hands-on stuff I can't deal with. I don't know how to unclog a sink or fix a broken roof but you do that stuff freelance now. I just have to make sure Merlin's in."
"In for what?" Merlin asked, walking into the room in his scrubs and squeezing onto the couch between them and throwing his arm around his and Lance's shoulders.
"You have to start packing because Arthur's moving us all into his big fancy mansion," Gwaine said.
Arthur stared at him. He hadn't wanted his offer to come out like that.
"Sounds awesome," Merlin said. "Since I've given up hope of getting the security deposit back here, I'll call off everyone's debts when you guys pack my stuff and move it for me."
"Oi! I didn't agree to that!" Gwaine protested.
"Really? Just like that?" Arthur asked Merlin.
"I think we have ants in the kitchen," Merlin replied with a tired shrug. "I hate ants. We're probably getting downsized at work, too. So if I quit, someone else won't get laid off. I was counting on being a kept woman by one of you. Except the whole 'woman' part," he yawned.
"I think we should celebrate, everybody throw in and I'll make a beer run," Gwaine said.
Gwaine was always ready to celebrate and for the first time in a long time, Arthur had something to celebrate, too.
Merlin leaned his head onto his shoulder and exhaled wearily. "Naptime. Wake me up for beer."
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Gwaine followed Merlin and Arthur through the huge carved doors. This place was unbelievable.
Arthur Pendragon had turned out to be the best bloke he'd ever got kicked out of a club with. They had both thrown equal punches and were sticky from the dirty bar floor when the bouncers tossed them out. On a normal night, the fight would have continued but Arthur said something witty and cruel, Gwaine had been drunk enough to be truly insulted and Arthur had been drunk enough to actually apologize.
College had been a blast apart from the studying part. Gwaine didn't need some professor telling him something he could read in a book. He needed teaching that didn't come out of some kind of talking head. He needed to learn things outside of a classroom.
The tension with his parents had been a teeny part of it, too. He didn't want their money or their name. He didn't want anything to do with them and he didn't want them bragging over how their wayward son had become an upstanding citizen and gotten a degree. Fuck them.
Arthur and Lance had been his kindred spirits for the first few semesters. When Gwaine dropped out, he'd bummed off Arthur for the first few weeks before heading to find cash where he could.
Once, he'd craved what Arthur and Gwen had. Arthur's blind love for Gwen and the 'happily ever after' dream coming true with a wife and promise of children. He'd spent many a drunken night envying his friend.
He hadn't envied his loss. Gwaine had come as soon as he heard; it was the first time he spoke to Merlin during a hushed and urgent phone call from a hospital about a body, not a patient.
Now, Gwaine wanted what Arthur and Merlin had. The blind trust and loyalty, the utter devotion they had to each other even if they hadn't admitted it yet. Lance said that it wouldn't last, that Arthur would find a girl when he finished wallowing, but Lance hadn't been there when Arthur was smashed into shards over Gwen's death. He hadn't watched him give up.
Merlin was a godsend. Gwaine liked to think Gwen had left him for Arthur, to take care of him. Merlin had adopted them all and made the four of them more like brothers than simply friends. He had glued Arthur back together, not the same, Arthur would never be the same; but at least he was whole again.
Merlin had become one of Gwaine's closest friends. He had told Merlin things he had never told anyone and he had no doubt that he would keep his confidence. Lancelot always said it was impossible not to love Merlin.
Merlin had taught Arthur how to fall in love again, not the way he had with Gwen, not a flash of heat and romance but a slow burn. Gwaine didn't know if Arthur had consummated it yet, or even mentioned it - he knew Merlin wouldn't mention it. Gwaine had tried his luck getting Merlin into bed but Merlin didn't look at him the way he looked at Arthur.
He didn't understand why no one else saw it. Or maybe they just didn't say anything.
"Holy Fuck," Lancelot whispered behind him. Gwaine shook off his reflections and took in the elaborate mansion.
The mansion had looked shiny when they approached but he'd assumed it was something like polished stone or reflective siding, it wasn't until they stepped inside that he realized it was glass. Everything was glass.
"I can see through the floor," Merlin murmured with wide eyes.
The walls were clear and if he hadn't been inside, he would call them windows. He could see furniture through the glass and it was utterly weird, but the colored markings on the walls made it ten times crazier.
Lancelot was running his fingers over the foreign characters. "These are creepy as hell," he said softly to Gwaine.
"What do they say?" Arthur asked.
"I don't know, I've never seen a language like this before. Lance?" Merlin turned to him.
"I can't identify it yet," Lance said. Gwaine wondered why it felt like he was lying.
They all turned when a lady in a pencil skirt approached with a stiff smile from one of the rooms. "It's amazing, isn't it? Your father's life work. I'm Nimueh Lake."
Arthur moved forward and introduced himself, shaking her hand, Merlin raising his eyebrow at Gwaine.
"I've set out everything in your father's office. Perhaps your help could put the things away while we chat," Nimueh said.
Gwaine snorted but Merlin swatted at him. "Come on, let's leave the grown ups to chat."
Lance rolled his eyes. "You can't seriously abandon him with that lady."
"You know legalese, you do it," Gwaine smiled, clapping him on the back and following Merlin up the stairs.
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"Dude, we have to explore this fucking house, come on," Gwaine said, tugging Merlin out of his nap on the massive four poster bed.
This place was amazing and he still couldn't totally believe he was going to live here.
Arthur and Gwaine had grown up rich; they never understood why he was so stunned by their designer clothes and expensive computers. Even though they lived like starving artists, without the artist part, they had expensive tastes and high expectations. They weren't allowed to go grocery shopping at the apartment because they always brought back name brand food and supplies which were way overbudget.
They were going to adjust to Arthur's new nest egg easily but Merlin didn't think it was going to be as easy for him to live in a house made of glass. It had to cost more than Merlin could make if he won all the lotteries. He was scared to touch anything.
"Should we get Arthur and Lancelot?"
"They're doing accounting or balancing or something in the office, totally boring," Gwaine said. "We can tell them all about it when we find the secret passageways and hidden treasure."
"Dude, the walls are made of glass, if there's hidden treasure, I'm pretty sure it's not too hidden."
Gwaine waggled his eyebrows at him. "I bet you a twenty that there's some cool shit hidden around here."
Merlin had a weakness for Gwaine's eyebrows and the hint of mirth below them. "Fuck you. I hate you so much. Do you have any idea how comfortable this bed is right now?"
Gwaine took him by both wrists and heaved him to his feet. "We should probably always wear shoes in a glass fucking house. What if were opera singers or something?"
He rolled his eyes. Gwaine made the weirdest connections.
It was strange that Arthur's estranged and presumed dead father had left him *this* as an inheritance. The money was nice, but this place seemed like a museum, not a home. It couldn't even be called a museum. It would be a tourist attraction just for the crazy factor. Sane people didn't build multiple story homes out of glass.
"Can I tell you something off the record?" Merlin said as he pushed his toes into his sneakers.
"Always, Em. Let me guess, you're spooked like Lance."
Merlin looked at him in surprise. "Lance is spooked?"
"He says the shit written on the wall is some kind of magic," Gwaine said absently, fiddling with a pair of plastic glasses on the end table. There were glasses everywhere; there had been two pair in the bathroom.
"Magic? Fuck, he would know, right?" Merlin asked. Lance had been everywhere. He had been a religion major for a while before he went in search of Zen and the perfect mate.
Gwaine shrugged, fitting the glasses on his nose. "Jesus, Merlin, you have to see this," he gasped. "Find some glasses - this is so crazy."
Merlin found a set on the opposite end table and put them on, inhaling sharply when he saw the overlapping words and runes lighting up the walls. "That's unbelievable. How crazy do you think Uther really was?"
Gwaine made the sign of the cross over his chest and shrugged. "I'm convinced now that we're going to have a grand adventure. See if we can find a treasure map on these walls."
Merlin hadn't been completely creeped out before but he was definitely holding his breath now. He'd been hoping to talk to Arthur alone before settling into the house. But Arthur was busy and he was sleepy and now he was surely walking into trouble following Gwaine's lead.
His sneakers squeaked on the pristine floor, covered with spells like all the rest. Gwaine's boots echoed down the hallway. "Nothing but bedrooms up here, and Arthur will bust us if we do the first floor, so let's hit the basement, yeah?"
"I'm not completely sure about any of this but I'll follow you until it's time to run away," Merlin said, nudging him. He wasn't a coward and even if Gwaine got him into trouble, it was always the fun kind.
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Arthur rubbed his temples at the building headache while Lancelot spouted numbers at the bored lawyer.
"I reiterate, Mr. DuLac, the number quoted is correct in full. You can hire a private appraiser if you wish but those papers are all I have with me," Nimueh said.
"How did you know my father?" Arthur asked.
Her eyes snapped to him and she pursed her lips. "We were acquaintances before he became a recluse. He rarely called but he always kept his records in order via email," she said. "I hadn't seen him in person for many years before I was informed of his death."
Arthur couldn't be sure but it felt like she was lying to him. He wondered if that was why Lancelot was nitpicking over the paperwork. Lancelot watched him and straightened his shoulders as if gearing up for battle.
"Thank you for your help, Ms. Lake. Is there anything more you need from us this afternoon?" Arthur asked, standing up and extending his hand pointedly.
She smiled, shaking his hand with a firm grip despite her delicate hands. "Actually, there was something included in my executor instructions. A briefcase was left for me in the downstairs office, if you don't mind; I'll fetch that and be on my way." Before Arthur could argue, she turned to Lancelot. "You're free to check the will for the legal clause, its number 74 on page 12."
She walked out of the office, almost strutting and disappeared between the thick glass walls.
"Should we go after her?" Lance asked.
"Fuck her, she's a little sleazy all around," Arthur confessed. "Can you believe this place, man?"
"Not at all. These seem to be some kind of magic spells, Arthur, and it makes me wonder what your dad was really doing out there. This seems too over the top for even the craziest of the cray," Lancelot said.
Arthur nodded. He wondered what had happened to his father to drive him to this kind of madness. Arthur had shattered into pieces after Gwen's death but nothing that would lead to this.
"Sorry," Lance apologized. "It just seems extra strange."
"I agree. Are you reconsidering moving here?" Arthur asked.
"I'll let you know after I spend a night here. Where are the guys?"
Arthur tilted his ear to listen for sounds of Merlin's laugh or Gwaine's bellow but the house was strangely silent. "Silence is never good."
"I'll go down, you go up," Lance suggested. Arthur shrugged and they headed to the stairs. He hoped he could find his way back.
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Nimueh had never been into Uther's house of horrors before today, but she had to admit that it was pretty in a psychotic kind of way.
Uther had been her enemy longer than she could remember but she'd worked hard to smile and lie and make sure he thought they were friends. She had fluffy bank accounts to prove it.
The briefcase had been a surprise. Uther had smiled and patted her hand, kindly, and she would have been touched by his generosity if she cared.
She hoped it was full of money. Or bonds. Jewels. It could be anything. The years of working for the old bastard would finally pay off. She should be grateful he was dead but the briefcase was a nice bonus.
She held the gilded railing and took the stairs as fast as her stilettos would take her, skidding on the slick glass at the bottom.
Would it have killed him to put in a rug? Considering the entire house was constructed of glass scrawled with gibberish, it probably would.
There was a rack of plastic goggles hanging from hooks to the side and she hesitated. Uther wouldn't have made it easy for her to find the loot and she slipped a pair onto her face. The walls and floor lit up with more gibberish but true to crazy, there were arrows leading her down the hallway to the left.
There were no doors that she could see but there were golden gears and rods visible at the edges of the ceiling and floor. No matter what she knew about Uther Pendragon, nothing explained this level of strange.
The arrows led her to the end of the hallway and she looked back to make sure she could find her way back and the arrows were fading. Hell, it had to be hard to get lost in a glass house so she turned back around.
She cupped her hands together and put her face up to the glass panel that was blocking her way into the room at the end of the hall. The lighting left a lot to be desired but she could make out a small rectangular package.
She wasn't a rat in a cage; she shouldn't have to solve a puzzle to get what was rightfully hers. She ran her fingers around the edges of the panel to find a handle or something. She stepped closer and the floor shifted under her heels and she stumbled against the glass. The gears started turning around the ceiling as if the house was coming to life.
Movement caught her attention and she gasped in panic when she saw the man behind the glass. His head was trapped in an iron cage and his face marred with scars. His massive body was bound in a straitjacket but his face twisted and screamed in her face.
She bit back a scream and pushed back from the glass. There was movement to her left and she actually did scream when the slashed body of a woman stepped into her vision. Her lips were puffed with Botox and one of her eyes was missing. She was naked and bloodstained and raised her perfectly manicured nails to claw at the glass.
When she moved back instinctively from the grotesque ghosts, she knocked against the panel behind her and it moved. She sucked in a breath for another scream but something wrapped around her throat, choking her remaining air from her lungs.
Her eyes were flashing with black spots but she could still see the briefcase in her peripheral vision before she saw her attacker. It was a girl in a tattered prom dress holding a noose and smirking at her gleefully as she twisted the rope in her raw fingers. The ghost's eyes were bulging with busted blood vessels.
She reached out desperately but the ghost slipped through her fingers and the noose tightened.
She wasn't going to die here; she wouldn't give Uther the satisfaction. She struggled to scream but a small boy appeared in front of her.
She didn't have time to process the sword impaling him from front to back before the metal pierced her stomach. The pain took what little composure she had left as hot blood filled her throat and her intestines slipped through her hands and splattered to the floor.
She slumped and the noose finally cut off her vision and the sword stabbed into her chest.
Fuck Uther Pendragon.
Her body hit the floor with a squish.
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Lance wasn't sure what it was about this place, but he was pretty sure he wasn't going to be able to live here. The place felt evil and the foreign writing on the walls didn't make him feel any safer.
He shivered involuntarily when he reached the bottom of the stairs and saw the narrow walkways between eerily lit glass walls.
Arthur didn't talk about his father often, if ever, but Lance didn't know it was because the guy was batshit insane. Arthur might be depressed, but he wasn't *this* crazy. There was a rack of glasses hanging from the wall and he'd seen them placed everywhere. He pushed them onto his nose and suddenly he could understand the characters on the wall.
The monks had called it 'the language of the dead' and Lance's sense of foreboding quickly shifted into fear.
What the hell was this place? There was a grinding sound and the walls in front of him shifted and he heard a distant scream.
He started down the hall but a glass wall blocked the path. The lights flickered and he couldn't see anyone else - but the lawyer had gone down here, hadn't she? Where was she?
The words shifted in front of him. "The Pilgrimess". He jumped back when the image of an emaciated woman appeared in the reflection behind the glass, old fashioned rags hanging from her bony arms and legs. Her gray skin hung in flaps from her bones and there were leaves and cobwebs in her ratty hair.
Her spindle fingers were twisted into claws and he moved back further as she reached for him.
There had been a wall behind him but he stepped back into nothing, turning quickly to make sure she wasn't behind him.
Ghosts. The language of the dead was because of ghosts. Was this some kind of indoor cemetery?
A growl brought him back to reality, if that's what this was, and he snapped his eyes around the space. He looked down and cried out in surprise when he saw the screaming head sealed in cellophane bobbling at his feet.
Across the room, he saw a legless torso, clumsily crawling toward him on his hands.
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Arthur searched the bedrooms, smiling when he saw the pile of clothes where Merlin had upended his suitcase in the floor in lieu of unpacking. He was going to personally make sure he folded all of them, just to watch him sulk. He was cute when he sulked.
But he was also missing. Arthur knew if he'd gone somewhere with Gwaine unsupervised that something would be broken soon. In a glass house, Arthur should be very worried.
He walked over to the bed and ran his fingers over the Merlin-shaped indention in the pillow. *Glasses, Arthur. Put on the glasses.*
It was like a whisper but Arthur could swear it was real. He didn't see anyone in the room but a pair of goggles skittered off the dresser and into the floor.
"I'm impressed they got a prank arranged in such a short time," Arthur said to himself. Gwaine was such a bad influence.
He leaned down and picked up the glasses, studying them. They were cool to the touch and being plastic, that was just weird. He put them on and the words on the wall lit up. They must have used some kind of invisible paint to make it do that.
"Arthur. You have to get out of this house. You have to save yourself. You have to leave."
Gwen's image flickered in front of him and he scrambled back, breathless and panicked.
Her body was red and marred with burns, the flesh raw and smoking. The room was filled with the smell of burned hair and skin. "Arthur. You have to go."
"Gwen? God, Gwen?" Arthur managed, choking on the smoke.
She reached for him, the skin melted down the bone. "You have to go, Arthur. Now. It has already begun, there's no time."
The image stuttered and disappeared in a crackle of sound and Arthur slumped to the floor.
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"Did you hear that?" Gwaine asked.
Merlin wished he hadn't but he nodded. It was a scream. A manly scream. "Lancelot."
Gwaine pushed past him, taking the stairs two at a time until he skidded at the bottom and Merlin had to catch him by the arms. "I knew I should have put on real shoes."
"We all know how much you love your slippers," Merlin said. The air around them had gone cold and everything seemed to be pointing to a haunted house.
Merlin didn't believe in ghosts but he'd seen enough movies to give it a maybe today. "LANCELOT?"
"Cupping your hands around your mouth really doesn't make you louder," Gwaine said with a teasing nudge. It didn't break the tension as intended but it was a nice thought.
"Maybe he saw a mouse," Merlin said. He didn't like mice.
"Lance isn't scared of animals, just spiders. Maybe he saw a spider," Gwaine shrugged.
Merlin hoped for spiders as the words on the walls glowed suddenly and the gears started to turn and the glass started to slide.
"Fuck," Gwaine said with a gasp, grabbing his arms from behind and pulling him backwards. Merlin's eyes widened when he saw the hulking monster of a man flickering through the pane. He had a sledgehammer as a hand and railroad spikes piercing his body, oozing with blood. He was growling with rage, red tinted spittle splattering on the glass. The image flickered out as the walls came to a stop.
"You see that, too?" Merlin panted out, grateful for Gwaine's solid body behind him.
"What the hell is this place?" Gwaine whispered. "We should get out of here."
"We have to find Lancelot," Merlin said even if his mind was completely supportive of running for his life. "Ghosts can't hurt us."
Gwaine repeated softly. "Ghosts can't hurt us. Okay. Let's go with that."
Merlin waited for Gwaine to go first but his friend made a dramatic 'you first' gesture and he decided to make new friends very soon.
Gwaine stayed close, stepping on the heels of his sneakers with his fuzzy zebra slippers as Merlin moved down the newly open passageway. "Lancelot? Are you down here?" he called.
He hoped Arthur was okay, that Arthur was with Lancelot and not alone in here.
The lights flickered and the spells on the glass lit up again and Gwaine bumped into him when he froze.
"Merlin," Gwaine whispered.
"I see it," Merlin said, stuck in place.
The massive man had chunks of flesh hanging from his face and hands and his eerie eyes were laced with rage. The bat hanging from his tattered fingers was dripping with blood.
"He's not behind glass," Merlin realized as the ghost took a heavy step toward them, flickering and moving even closer. "Run."
Gwaine tugged him by his belt and then both turned their back on the monster. Stairs, if they could get to the stairs...
He cried out when his knees buckled from the force of the bat crashing into him from behind. His chin slammed into the floor and he spit blood as he was yanked backwards by his legs.
"Merlin!" Gwaine yelled but Merlin was dragged backwards, his blood streaking the floor. Gwaine caught his wrists and Merlin was the rope in a tug of war.
He kicked and tried to hold onto Gwaine and finally, the ghost released his legs. He scrambled to get his footing and had gotten to his knees with Gwaine's help when the ghost swung the bat again, knocking the breath out of him and slamming him into the wall.
He was vaguely aware of the walls shifting again and watching the ghost angrily swinging the bat at the glass as Gwaine crouched beside him. He'd never seen Gwaine scared but he didn't have much time to think about it before he blacked out.
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Lance inched his way away from the dismembered ghost, glancing around for an exit when the glass wall slid back into place with the grinding of the gears in the ceiling.
New words lit up on the new walls and 'The Juggernaut' did not seem promising. He heard a yell, Gwaine, and sped up his steps away from The Torso and Pilgrimess. He'd face the Juggernaut for his friends if he had to.
They had to get out of here.
There was a low snarl behind him and a huge bloody man appeared from the shadows. His mouth was smeared with blood and he was carrying a severed arm in his giant hands, his body riddled with bullet holes. His gaze was locked on Lancelot and he didn't hesitate, doubling his speed toward the sounds he'd heard.
His feet slipped on the floor and he tripped over a body, slamming into the floor. The lawyer was crumpled on the floor, bloody and dead with bulging eyes.
Oh God. He kicked the body away instinctively and pushed himself to his feet, panicked. The ghost growled and crouched down beside the body, tearing into the woman's neck with his teeth. The thing seemed upset that the body was dead and snapped his face back to Lancelot.
He finally remembered that he was scared as shit and took off running down the hallway, ignoring the ghosts that were now lining up behind the glass panels.
There were so many that Lancelot couldn't waste time reading the labels. He had to find his friends and get the hell out of here.
He spotted Gwaine through one of the transparent walls and to his horror, saw Merlin slumped at his feet. They were both wearing the glasses so he knew they had figured out the hellish house. He slapped his hands against the wall to catch their attention. "Gwaine! Merlin!"
Gwaine's eyes widened and he left Merlin slumped but breathing to press against the glass. "What the fuck, Lance?"
"I don't even know but we have to get out of here," Lance said.
"We figured that part out already - these bloody walls keep moving, I can't find my way out and Merlin got smashed by some asshole with a baseball bat," Gwaine yelled.
Lance heard the growl of the Juggernaut and turned his back on his friends. He didn't want them to watch him die.
"No, no! Lance - run!" Gwaine pounded on the glass behind him.
He didn't have anywhere to run; the walls had closed him into a corner. He closed his eyes as the monster rumbled toward him.
"DUCK!"
Lance had played enough sports with Arthur to have an instinctive reaction, dropping to his knees as Arthur swung a heavy fire poker at his head, dissipating the ghost into smoke.
"Arthur," Lance breathed gratefully, embracing his friend around his knees. Thank god.
"What the hell's going on? There are ghosts - I saw Gwen and now..." Arthur said, his eyes wide with panic.
"We have to get to Gwaine and Merlin and then we have to burn this place to the ground," Lancelot said seriously. "You saw Gwen?"
Arthur nodded vacantly, his eyes locked on Merlin's unconscious body behind the glass. "She said we have to leave."
"She was always the smart one," Lance said, steadying Arthur with a quick squeeze of the wrist, taking the iron poker from him.
-----------------------
"I can't believe you're making me carry you like I'm some kind of fireman or something, you're such a drama queen," Gwaine muttered, Merlin hanging over his shoulder.
He really wanted him to wake up. It wasn't fair that he was going to be unconscious during the scariest thing that had ever happened to them.
Lancelot and Arthur seemed to be doing much better with the demonic spirits, or whatever they were. Arthur had luckily grabbed a weapon made of iron that scared the ghosts away and Lancelot conveniently remembered a language from his travels that let him name the monsters.
Gwaine didn't care about names of things trying to kill him. They couldn't find a connecting hallway yet, but the ghosts were quiet for the moment. Gwaine hoped Merlin would wake up before something else attacked. He was panicked enough without a hurt friend.
"Come on, there has to be a way out of here," Gwaine said.
"Ow."
Gwaine almost yelled in relief, stopping and gently lowering Merlin to the floor. "Em, look at me."
"I think you fucked my ribs up worse than the bat. Thank you," Merlin said with glazed eyes. "What did I miss?"
Gwaine huffed out a sigh of relief. "Nothing that I feel like going over again. Arthur and Lance are stuck down here, but we can't figure out how to meet up with this moving maze."
"What the fuck is this place? What was Arthur's dad thinking?" Merlin hesitated. "Is he okay?"
"Arthur? Scared as hell, but yeah. Can you walk?" Gwaine asked, hauling him to his feet before he could answer.
"I guess so," Merlin gasped, his fingers digging into Gwaine's arms.
Maybe he was being slightly rough with Merlin. "Are you all right?"
"You're asking that question a little late. Let's go," Merlin said, rolling his eyes and taking the lead. Gwaine remembered how that had worked out last time and moved beside him, sliding his arm around his waist to support him.
"I hate horror movies. Gwen used to say I would be the first to go because I'd trip over my own feet," Merlin said.
Gwaine didn't mention that Arthur had seen Gwen. Everyone knew how much Merlin loved her; she was his family long before even Arthur was in the picture. "At least you aren't wearing high heels."
"Very true," Merlin said.
The lights flickered and his grip on Merlin's hip tightened as the walls slid around them. "Keep your eyes open."
"Trying my best," Merlin said after a beat. "Wait. The glasses."
Gwaine realized he'd forgotten Merlin's goggles when he'd been checking him for damage after the Torn Prince incident. He wasn't going to think about how that ghost got his name.
"You just look for a way out," Gwaine said, swallowing thickly as he started to see movement other than the shifting panes of glass.
There was a flicker of light at the end of the hallway and he saw a small boy with a sword impaled in his chest. He was wearing a ragged knight's costume and a wicked smile.
"What is it?" Merlin asked when Gwaine stopped walking.
"We should go the other way," Gwaine said, turning around.
A naked woman with gaping wounds all over her body, like a bloodletting gone wrong, stood a few feet away, her head tilted to the side as she searched him with single eye.
"Uh," Gwaine said. They were trapped. "Got anything made of iron on you?"
"Iron? I don't think so. Gwaine, what is it? Is it the baseball guy?" Merlin asked, his voice shaking.
"No," Gwaine managed, pressing against the wall and holding Merlin beside him. "Let's just stand here and hope they go away."
"That's an awful plan," Merlin whispered but he didn't move.
Gwaine watched the two ghosts flickering and twitching as they approached. "I'm sure we'll be okay."
"You don't sound too sure," Merlin hissed back.
"Do you have any better ideas?"
There was a loud pop and a bright flash of light and the ghosts vanished.
"What the hell was that?" Merlin asked.
"The cavalry, come on, follow me." A stranger stepped out at the end of the corridor holding a strange weapon and waving at them.
"I can see him, so that means he's real, right?" Merlin asked.
"Let's go with that," Gwaine said, herding him toward the stranger. "Who are you?"
"Name's Will, I used to work for Uther, up until I figured out what he was actually doing," the man said, clutching the gun with white knuckles.
"What was he doing?" Gwaine asked.
"That's a longer story than we have time for right now, let's get upstairs before the walls move again, the countdown's already started," Will said. A countdown didn't sound good.
He glanced at Merlin but they didn't have any other choice at the moment. They needed to get out of this basement.
-----------------------
Arthur had no idea what was going on in this place. He'd assumed that his father was crazy considering he'd been a recluse for so long; but building a glass house was easier to wrap his head around than building a labyrinth full of killer ghosts.
And Gwen.
Why was she here in this hell? She wasn't evil; she didn't have a drop of evil in her blood. What was his father's goal in creating this place?
"Heads up," Lancelot caught his attention and he turned to find the newest ghost.
It was more of a disturbed fear this time; the tiny woman spoon-feeding the gigantic obese boy was horrifying without the threat of murder.
"The Great Child and the Dire Mother," Lancelot said.
Arthur spotted the axe a moment too late and the glass rattled when the tool hit it, startling them both backwards.
"We have to get to Merlin and Gwaine, we have to get out of here, this isn't right," Arthur said.
He wouldn't lose Merlin, not like he'd lost Gwen.
"Let's go this way," Arthur decided, backing away from the freaky ghosts and heading toward the opposite direction.
Lance walked backwards, skimming the corridor for ghosts as Arthur took the lead. He choked out a laugh when he spotted a set of stairs. "Finally," he said, taking them two at a time with Lance on his heels.
"Where the hell are we now?" Arthur asked when they'd stepped into an unfamiliar, yet still glass, room.
"The next time one of us inherits a house, we're totally getting a floor plan before we come visit," Lancelot said.
"Fuck that, we're selling it on the spot," Arthur muttered. He looked around the room, noticing the ceilings didn't have the gears and slides that had shifted the walls downstairs. He hoped that meant their luck was changing.
"What's that noise? Is this some kind of engine room?" Lance asked.
There was a dull roar, like grinding machinery and he realized that his luck was definitely not changing for the better.
They wound their way through the glass panels and into a round room. There were panels on the floor, spinning with the foreign symbols as huge gears moved above their heads.
"What the hell is this?" Arthur whispered.
"It's an Ocularis Infernum also known as the Eye of Hell. Created by the Devil and powered by the dead," a stranger's voice said.
He turned toward the voice and saw Gwaine and Merlin across the room.
"Thank fuck," Merlin sighed, walking over and hugging him tightly.
Arthur ran his hand through his hair, wincing at the dried blood. "Are you all right?"
"Much better now," Merlin whispered.
"What were you saying about the devil?" Lancelot recaptured his attention. "Who are you?"
"He said he worked for Uther," Gwaine said, moving over to their side of the room, leaving the stranger at a safe distance.
"I'm Will, I worked with Uther but I didn't know he was doing...this. The machine, it uses the souls of the damned to power it, it's supposed to give the creator the power to see the future," the man said, his eyes wide behind his goggles.
"How do you know about the machine if you didn't know what he was doing?" Arthur asked.
"There's a book, I helped him find a book. I couldn't read it, but it told him which ghosts he needed to build it, I didn't figure it out until he was already dead," Will said. "He owed me money, so I slipped in when you guys were unpacking. There was supposed to be a briefcase downstairs."
"The lawyer said that, too, and she's ripped to shreds," Lancelot said.
"Shit, she's dead?" Merlin whispered.
"Very very dead," Lancelot replied, visibly shaken.
"Why would Uther leave this place to Arthur if it was some kind of death trap?" Merlin asked.
"I don't think he was supposed to die. He was a bastard," Will said.
"Come now, it's impolite to speak ill of the dead."
Merlin's fingers dug into his arm as Arthur raised his eyes to the new voice. "Father?"
-----------------------
Father? Merlin had never met Arthur's father but he could see the resemblance, Arthur had his eyes, minus the glint of crazy in his father's.
For a dead man, he was in surprisingly good shape.
Arthur lost all his color and stared at his father blankly.
"Will is correct, however, I wasn't supposed to die. In fact, I didn't," Uther smiled. He turned to Will.
"What are you doing here, Uther? You didn't mention any of this, you didn't say you were making an Ocularis Infernum," Will said. "And where's my money?"
Uther rolled his eyes, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pistol. Merlin barely had time to gasp before he shot the man in the forehead. The machine seemed to speed up its spin as the man dropped to the floor.
"Jesus, man, what the hell?" Gwaine whispered.
"Sacrifices are necessary for this to work. You see, I've spent years collecting the souls to construct this machine," Uther said.
"Why?" Arthur whispered.
Merlin felt like he was listening to a Bond villain explaining everything at the end of a movie while they waited to die. He glanced at Gwaine and raised an eyebrow. Gwaine slotted his eyes to the side and Merlin saw a control room lit up with LEDs behind the glass. He nodded slightly and shifted his body to hopefully give Gwaine the distraction to investigate.
Uther's eyes didn't leave Arthur's and Merlin hoped Lancelot kept hold on the poker in case things got worse.
"This machine will grant me immortality, I'll know the future and I'll be able to experience it all," Uther said.
"You're insane," Lancelot said.
"Why all this? Why do you want Arthur?" Merlin asked.
"He's the final piece, the Thirteenth Ghost. It was a lucky turn of events, his wife dying so suddenly. He's wracked with grief, lost without her," Uther said evenly.
Arthur jolted, his eyes flashing with emotion.
"The Broken Heart," Uther smiled. "If you'll just move to the center of the circle, we can begin."
Something smashed behind him and they all turned to see Gwaine going batshit on the control panel, yanking gears and wires from the console with his bare hands.
There was a horrible grinding noise and the floor tiles started to spin faster and the motors above started to spark.
Uther raised his gun toward the glass and fired at Gwaine. The window shattered and the lights flickered and the floor started to shift beneath their feet as the floor panels slid apart and shining rings appeared between them.
"Oh shit," Lancelot said as the walls around the room all started to splinter. Merlin pulled Arthur and Lance into a tight huddle so the falling glass didn't hit their face or eyes.
"The ghosts," Merlin realized. The spells on the walls had been keeping the malevolent spirits outside but before the glass had finished falling, they were flooding the room.
"No, it's not time yet," Uther said, raising the gun again. The spirits surrounded him, hissing with rage.
"Guys, the floor," Lancelot said. Merlin realized the spinning silver rings were rising from the floor.
"Get out of there!" Gwaine yelled from the control room. "Hurry!"
Merlin took a step and a razor ring rose from the floor and almost cut his foot off before Lancelot yanked him back into the center. "Fuck!"
He glanced up and saw Arthur standing outside of the circle as the razor rings began spinning over and around them, trapping them in a sphere of blades.
-----------------------
Arthur turned to find his father, to demand that this stop right now, but his father was screaming, the sound muffled by the machine's whirring as the ghosts tore him to pieces.
Gwaine was smashing things in the control room and the center of the circle was getting smaller as more spinning rings rose from the floor.
"A little help over here?" Lancelot called, clinging to Merlin's back to try to make themselves smaller in the dwindling center circle.
Arthur turned away from his father and started toward Gwaine in the control room to help him smash things but Gwen appeared in front of him, not scarred this time, not burnt, but as beautiful as he remembered. She was wearing the dress she'd died in and he was seeing her as she was that night she waited for him and burned for it.
"It has to be you. You have to save him," she said.
"What?" Arthur could be a little slow sometimes, but he didn't understand.
She raised her hand to his cheek but didn't touch, the coolness of her spirit brushing his chin. "You have to take care of him, you have to go to him."
"Won't that activate the machine? Isn't there another way?"
"You're not The Broken Heart. You love him, you have to prove it," Gwen said, smiling sadly.
Arthur turned back and met Merlin's eyes through the flashing rings. Merlin shook his head. "You can't - they're going too fast, you can't - "
"I knew you guys were hooking up!" Gwaine yelled from inside the control room. "Lance owes me twenty bucks!"
Arthur held his breath.
"Arthur - no - " Merlin yelled.
He counted to three and closed his eyes, stepping into the circles.
"Oh my fucking God, you're an idiot," Merlin's arms were suddenly around him and his breath hot in his ear. "Such a fucking idiot."
Arthur buried his face in his neck and held on as the room crumbled around them.
"As romantic and tragic as this is turning out to be, I think we should get the fuck off this thing while the razors are off," Lancelot said.
Arthur opened his eyes and saw the rings falling through the cracks of the floor as the panels shifted and dropped.
"Come on, the whole thing's coming down!" Gwaine stepped out of the control room and helped them off the pedestal a second before the entire circle of panels and rings crashed through the floor into the basement.
"Wait - your father," Merlin said, grabbing at his arm. They turned and watched the ghosts fade into the air one by one, his father's body hacked into bloody chunks leaking on the patch of remaining floor.
"It's too late for him, we have to go," Lancelot said. He grabbed his wrist and pulled them from the room.
They ran.
-----------------------
Lancelot was exhausted after the cop interviews and visits with handsy paramedics but he followed Gwaine to the hotel bar without a thought.
Merlin tossed a twenty in their general direction and collapsed in the first open booth they found, folding his arms and cushioning his head to the right with his matted hair exposed around the stitches.
"Get everything," Arthur said to Gwaine blankly, sitting down beside Merlin and mirroring his posture, facing him against the table.
He was vaguely aware that they looked like they were returning from battle, which in a way, they were. The bartender's eyes went wide when Gwaine held out a credit card with bandaged fingers dotted with red. "We've had a really bad night. Give us two bottles of your most expensive whiskey. And all the food."
"Sir? All the food?" the bartender asked, raising an eyebrow. Gwaine extended his arms. "All the food."
"Just a sampler of whatever, I doubt we'll last as long as he thinks," Lancelot said when Gwaine wandered over to the booth.
"Sure thing." The bartender handed him two bottles from the end of the shelves but Lancelot didn't bother with the glasses, taking his loot to the table.
They passed the bottles around, gulping down the shocking whiskey. The fire in his gut seemed to bring him back to reality.
"The fuck just happened?" Merlin blurted out in a hiss.
"I'm never going to sleep again," Gwaine said.
"I wish I still smoked pot," Lancelot said.
"I'm sorry," Arthur said.
"Shut up, this isn't your fault. Your dad's, yeah, but not yours," Merlin said.
"Still. I got you into this mess," Arthur said.
"You also got us out," Lance said. "How long have you been getting horizontal with our roommate?"
"Told you, I knew it ages ago," Gwaine smirked.
"Can we talk about the ghosts that totally shattered my worldview and theology?" Merlin deflected.
"I'd rather talk about sex," Gwaine said.
Merlin flipped him the finger, Arthur kicked him under the table and Gwaine snickered. Lance knew they'd be okay.
Poll
Author: brandywine421
Prompt Number: 16
Rating: R for violence, gore, language.
Characters/Pairings:Merlin/Arthur, past Arthur/Gwen. Gwaine & Lance being bros.
Warnings: Hopefully it's creepy!
Summary: Loosely follows the plotline of the failtastic 13 Ghosts movie. Arthur inherits a house that is not what it seems.
Notes: I love this cheesy movie and I love this prompt! Apologies for this Americanized take on the characters and the resulting ooc interpretions.
Arthur skimmed his inbox to see if there were any new messages about his recent job interviews. A reminder to give blood, a notification that his bank account was below 20$ and a link to a cat riding a jet ski from Lancelot were the only new messages. The cat was cute, but not enough to make him smile. Not today.
Today was just another day of disappointments. Another day of existing and not living. Another day that he would accomplish nothing other than freeloading off his best mates and being useless.
His life wasn't supposed to be this way, his life was supposed to be awesome. He had a wife that loved him dearly and great job at the toy company his grandfather had built from the ground up. He was supposed to have 2.5 kids and a dog and a savings account filled to the brim.
But that wasn't his life. The Pendragon curse had found him and taken everything. Guinevere was gone, the company was forcibly shut down, and all his money had gone to the courts for his grandfather's crimes.
The company's failure wasn't his fault. He honestly knew nothing about the child labor and blackmail branches of the business. Arthur was off the hook for the actual crimes but on the hook for the fraud penalties because the case had taken money from everyone else already.
Gwen was his fault. No matter how many times his friends told him that her death was accidental, if he'd been home on time - she would still be alive.
He couldn't think about Gwen. It wasn't allowed. She'd died two years ago and he couldn't dwell on it any more.
He was all about moving on. It was actually making it happen that was his sticking point.
He closed the laptop and took a deep breath. Merlin told him every morning: Another day, another chance.
He opened the door and heard the shower running down the hall. Gwaine, most likely. He worked nights on a road crew painting lines and setting up barricades on the freeway. Someone was always home. It was comforting in a frathouse kind of way.
Four guys in a two bedroom apartment and only one with a consistent job would have been cool when they were in college, but they were all pushing thirty. Gwaine was still humping anything that moved, Lancelot was still serial dating to find flaws in everyone and Merlin...well, Merlin was just Merlin.
He knew Gwaine and Lance from college, before Gwaine flunked out and Lance left on a three year spirit walk in Tibet.
Merlin had been Gwen's best friend since she was two. She called him her first love and her first heartbreak when he told her he was gay. Merlin had become Arthur's best friend, too, early into the marriage. He'd been with Arthur through everything and he can honestly say he would have given up if Merlin hadn't stuck by him.
This was Merlin's apartment and he had taken in Arthur, and his aimless friends, without blinking an eye. The two of them both had holes in their heart from Gwen's death, but while Arthur filled his with apathy and woe; Merlin filled his with charity. He was a pediatric nurse making shit pay at a free clinic but he always had time for his friends. For Arthur.
"Hey. You should make me breakfast. Bacon and eggs and all the fixings," Merlin said cheerily, seated at the counter with a Starbucks cup in his hand.
"You're vegan, you don't eat any of that," Arthur replied.
Merlin smiled. "Lancelot still falls for that sometimes. How's today?"
"Still unemployed. But awake, so that's good," Arthur answered.
"You got a package," Merlin said, motioning over to the kitchen table. "Gwaine wanted to open it but Lancelot threatened him with laundromat duty."
"God, I hate laundromat duty," Arthur said.
"I'm never going to take rent from you guys if it means I have to do chores," Merlin said.
Arthur took the package over to the counter and sat down beside Merlin. "You're just lazy."
"Says the guy who eats Cheetos for lunch every day because he doesn't want to wait for the microwave," Merlin snorted. He would be insulted about the comments if anyone but Merlin was saying them to him.
He wiped a nearby fork clean on his shirt and stabbed into the packaging to open the box. Merlin immediately took the manila envelope on top and Arthur resigned himself to investigate the lockbox with the key taped to the top.
"That's convenient," he muttered. Not really safe but easy. He opened the box and blinked at the gold jewelry and tiny satchels of sparkling diamonds. "What the fuck." The key was taped to the top of something with diamonds inside?
"Arthur. I'm so sorry," Merlin said quietly, holding out a typed letter.
Mr. Arthur Pendragon, I am sorry to inform you that your father, Uther Pendragon has passed away in a tragic accident.
"I thought he was already dead. No one's seen him for years. I was fifteen when he disappeared. What the hell," Arthur whispered. He read the next line.
Mr. Pendragon bequeathed his entire estate to you, his only son. Payment was deducted from the estate for burial expenses and legal fees as accounted for in the enclosed will. I have included the contents of his safety deposit box and the key to the Pendragon Chateau. As stated in the included will, Mr. Pendragon requested the home not be sold to anyone unrelated to him by blood. I would be pleased to meet with you in person as executor to show you the Chateau and discuss any questions and assist in the transfer of assets to your accounts. Sincerely, Nimueh Lake, LL.M.
"Oh my God. Merlin. I think you might have to start doing chores again," Arthur said.
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Arthur collapsed on the couch after a long day spent with lawyers and bankers and salesmen. He was disappointed that no one was home but he appreciated control of the TV for once and flipped it to music videos. Merlin liked music videos, too.
The money would help him get back on his feet. He could go back to school or start his own business - he could do anything now. He could give Merlin the home he deserved where he wouldn't have to work so hard and could have his own car instead of taking the bus.
Arthur had been with a lot of girls before he married Gwen. But he'd been with a lot more guys before that. He'd been appreciative of Merlin; he was lithe and graceful yet clumsy and clunky in equal measures. If Gwen hadn't been the love of his life, Merlin would have been his type.
Now that she was gone, Merlin had become something different. More than a friend, more than a lover - but a partner the way Gwen never got the chance to grow into.
It was still undefined, unspoken. But they shared a bedroom for months and now they were sharing a bed.
Merlin wasn't Gwen. He had the same open heart and enthusiastic love of life but he wasn't Gwen. Arthur didn't love him the way he loved her. Gwen hadn't made him feel the way Merlin does now.
Neither one of them would admit to making the first move, that would require them to admit what they were doing when they turned off the lights.
Arthur wasn't ready to take it to the public level. He didn't have anything to offer Merlin. This inheritance would give him the balls, he hoped, to ask Merlin to share more than his bed with him. To share a future.
He was still mourning Gwen. He would always mourn Gwen. But Merlin was the one bright spot in his sputtering life and he wasn't willing to give that up if he couldn't have Gwen.
"There's our new meal ticket! Hola, Arthur," Lancelot smiled, taking the couch beside him.
"He had a date with a hot Columbian chick yesterday, he's on a Spanish jag," Gwaine said, picking up some movie night detritus so he could take the recliner. "Did you get any more boxes of money today?"
Arthur flipped him off. "I did get a lot done. I think I'm going to move into the house," he said.
"No shit, Sherlock. You can't keep living here if you can actually afford a place with a washing machine," Gwaine snorted.
"This place has eight bathrooms and sixteen bedrooms. It has 2 laundry rooms," Arthur said.
"Now you're just bragging," Lancelot said.
Arthur smiled and Lancelot swatted him. "Asshole."
"Once I talk to Merlin, I might have an offer for you," Arthur said.
"What kind of offer? Free money?" Gwaine perked up.
Arthur rolled his eyes. "No. I was thinking more of employment. The house is going to need a lot of upkeep, but I want to get Merlin out of this shitty apartment. He's done a lot for me and I can't leave him stuck here so I have to convince him to move into the house, too," he said.
"No arguments from us, Arthur. We owe him a lot, too," Lancelot said. "You know he's not going to quit his job, though."
"He will if I can make him go back to med school," Arthur said. "But that's for a later discussion. Look, I can handle the numbers part of this; it's the hands-on stuff I can't deal with. I don't know how to unclog a sink or fix a broken roof but you do that stuff freelance now. I just have to make sure Merlin's in."
"In for what?" Merlin asked, walking into the room in his scrubs and squeezing onto the couch between them and throwing his arm around his and Lance's shoulders.
"You have to start packing because Arthur's moving us all into his big fancy mansion," Gwaine said.
Arthur stared at him. He hadn't wanted his offer to come out like that.
"Sounds awesome," Merlin said. "Since I've given up hope of getting the security deposit back here, I'll call off everyone's debts when you guys pack my stuff and move it for me."
"Oi! I didn't agree to that!" Gwaine protested.
"Really? Just like that?" Arthur asked Merlin.
"I think we have ants in the kitchen," Merlin replied with a tired shrug. "I hate ants. We're probably getting downsized at work, too. So if I quit, someone else won't get laid off. I was counting on being a kept woman by one of you. Except the whole 'woman' part," he yawned.
"I think we should celebrate, everybody throw in and I'll make a beer run," Gwaine said.
Gwaine was always ready to celebrate and for the first time in a long time, Arthur had something to celebrate, too.
Merlin leaned his head onto his shoulder and exhaled wearily. "Naptime. Wake me up for beer."
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Gwaine followed Merlin and Arthur through the huge carved doors. This place was unbelievable.
Arthur Pendragon had turned out to be the best bloke he'd ever got kicked out of a club with. They had both thrown equal punches and were sticky from the dirty bar floor when the bouncers tossed them out. On a normal night, the fight would have continued but Arthur said something witty and cruel, Gwaine had been drunk enough to be truly insulted and Arthur had been drunk enough to actually apologize.
College had been a blast apart from the studying part. Gwaine didn't need some professor telling him something he could read in a book. He needed teaching that didn't come out of some kind of talking head. He needed to learn things outside of a classroom.
The tension with his parents had been a teeny part of it, too. He didn't want their money or their name. He didn't want anything to do with them and he didn't want them bragging over how their wayward son had become an upstanding citizen and gotten a degree. Fuck them.
Arthur and Lance had been his kindred spirits for the first few semesters. When Gwaine dropped out, he'd bummed off Arthur for the first few weeks before heading to find cash where he could.
Once, he'd craved what Arthur and Gwen had. Arthur's blind love for Gwen and the 'happily ever after' dream coming true with a wife and promise of children. He'd spent many a drunken night envying his friend.
He hadn't envied his loss. Gwaine had come as soon as he heard; it was the first time he spoke to Merlin during a hushed and urgent phone call from a hospital about a body, not a patient.
Now, Gwaine wanted what Arthur and Merlin had. The blind trust and loyalty, the utter devotion they had to each other even if they hadn't admitted it yet. Lance said that it wouldn't last, that Arthur would find a girl when he finished wallowing, but Lance hadn't been there when Arthur was smashed into shards over Gwen's death. He hadn't watched him give up.
Merlin was a godsend. Gwaine liked to think Gwen had left him for Arthur, to take care of him. Merlin had adopted them all and made the four of them more like brothers than simply friends. He had glued Arthur back together, not the same, Arthur would never be the same; but at least he was whole again.
Merlin had become one of Gwaine's closest friends. He had told Merlin things he had never told anyone and he had no doubt that he would keep his confidence. Lancelot always said it was impossible not to love Merlin.
Merlin had taught Arthur how to fall in love again, not the way he had with Gwen, not a flash of heat and romance but a slow burn. Gwaine didn't know if Arthur had consummated it yet, or even mentioned it - he knew Merlin wouldn't mention it. Gwaine had tried his luck getting Merlin into bed but Merlin didn't look at him the way he looked at Arthur.
He didn't understand why no one else saw it. Or maybe they just didn't say anything.
"Holy Fuck," Lancelot whispered behind him. Gwaine shook off his reflections and took in the elaborate mansion.
The mansion had looked shiny when they approached but he'd assumed it was something like polished stone or reflective siding, it wasn't until they stepped inside that he realized it was glass. Everything was glass.
"I can see through the floor," Merlin murmured with wide eyes.
The walls were clear and if he hadn't been inside, he would call them windows. He could see furniture through the glass and it was utterly weird, but the colored markings on the walls made it ten times crazier.
Lancelot was running his fingers over the foreign characters. "These are creepy as hell," he said softly to Gwaine.
"What do they say?" Arthur asked.
"I don't know, I've never seen a language like this before. Lance?" Merlin turned to him.
"I can't identify it yet," Lance said. Gwaine wondered why it felt like he was lying.
They all turned when a lady in a pencil skirt approached with a stiff smile from one of the rooms. "It's amazing, isn't it? Your father's life work. I'm Nimueh Lake."
Arthur moved forward and introduced himself, shaking her hand, Merlin raising his eyebrow at Gwaine.
"I've set out everything in your father's office. Perhaps your help could put the things away while we chat," Nimueh said.
Gwaine snorted but Merlin swatted at him. "Come on, let's leave the grown ups to chat."
Lance rolled his eyes. "You can't seriously abandon him with that lady."
"You know legalese, you do it," Gwaine smiled, clapping him on the back and following Merlin up the stairs.
--------------------------------------
"Dude, we have to explore this fucking house, come on," Gwaine said, tugging Merlin out of his nap on the massive four poster bed.
This place was amazing and he still couldn't totally believe he was going to live here.
Arthur and Gwaine had grown up rich; they never understood why he was so stunned by their designer clothes and expensive computers. Even though they lived like starving artists, without the artist part, they had expensive tastes and high expectations. They weren't allowed to go grocery shopping at the apartment because they always brought back name brand food and supplies which were way overbudget.
They were going to adjust to Arthur's new nest egg easily but Merlin didn't think it was going to be as easy for him to live in a house made of glass. It had to cost more than Merlin could make if he won all the lotteries. He was scared to touch anything.
"Should we get Arthur and Lancelot?"
"They're doing accounting or balancing or something in the office, totally boring," Gwaine said. "We can tell them all about it when we find the secret passageways and hidden treasure."
"Dude, the walls are made of glass, if there's hidden treasure, I'm pretty sure it's not too hidden."
Gwaine waggled his eyebrows at him. "I bet you a twenty that there's some cool shit hidden around here."
Merlin had a weakness for Gwaine's eyebrows and the hint of mirth below them. "Fuck you. I hate you so much. Do you have any idea how comfortable this bed is right now?"
Gwaine took him by both wrists and heaved him to his feet. "We should probably always wear shoes in a glass fucking house. What if were opera singers or something?"
He rolled his eyes. Gwaine made the weirdest connections.
It was strange that Arthur's estranged and presumed dead father had left him *this* as an inheritance. The money was nice, but this place seemed like a museum, not a home. It couldn't even be called a museum. It would be a tourist attraction just for the crazy factor. Sane people didn't build multiple story homes out of glass.
"Can I tell you something off the record?" Merlin said as he pushed his toes into his sneakers.
"Always, Em. Let me guess, you're spooked like Lance."
Merlin looked at him in surprise. "Lance is spooked?"
"He says the shit written on the wall is some kind of magic," Gwaine said absently, fiddling with a pair of plastic glasses on the end table. There were glasses everywhere; there had been two pair in the bathroom.
"Magic? Fuck, he would know, right?" Merlin asked. Lance had been everywhere. He had been a religion major for a while before he went in search of Zen and the perfect mate.
Gwaine shrugged, fitting the glasses on his nose. "Jesus, Merlin, you have to see this," he gasped. "Find some glasses - this is so crazy."
Merlin found a set on the opposite end table and put them on, inhaling sharply when he saw the overlapping words and runes lighting up the walls. "That's unbelievable. How crazy do you think Uther really was?"
Gwaine made the sign of the cross over his chest and shrugged. "I'm convinced now that we're going to have a grand adventure. See if we can find a treasure map on these walls."
Merlin hadn't been completely creeped out before but he was definitely holding his breath now. He'd been hoping to talk to Arthur alone before settling into the house. But Arthur was busy and he was sleepy and now he was surely walking into trouble following Gwaine's lead.
His sneakers squeaked on the pristine floor, covered with spells like all the rest. Gwaine's boots echoed down the hallway. "Nothing but bedrooms up here, and Arthur will bust us if we do the first floor, so let's hit the basement, yeah?"
"I'm not completely sure about any of this but I'll follow you until it's time to run away," Merlin said, nudging him. He wasn't a coward and even if Gwaine got him into trouble, it was always the fun kind.
-----------------------------------
Arthur rubbed his temples at the building headache while Lancelot spouted numbers at the bored lawyer.
"I reiterate, Mr. DuLac, the number quoted is correct in full. You can hire a private appraiser if you wish but those papers are all I have with me," Nimueh said.
"How did you know my father?" Arthur asked.
Her eyes snapped to him and she pursed her lips. "We were acquaintances before he became a recluse. He rarely called but he always kept his records in order via email," she said. "I hadn't seen him in person for many years before I was informed of his death."
Arthur couldn't be sure but it felt like she was lying to him. He wondered if that was why Lancelot was nitpicking over the paperwork. Lancelot watched him and straightened his shoulders as if gearing up for battle.
"Thank you for your help, Ms. Lake. Is there anything more you need from us this afternoon?" Arthur asked, standing up and extending his hand pointedly.
She smiled, shaking his hand with a firm grip despite her delicate hands. "Actually, there was something included in my executor instructions. A briefcase was left for me in the downstairs office, if you don't mind; I'll fetch that and be on my way." Before Arthur could argue, she turned to Lancelot. "You're free to check the will for the legal clause, its number 74 on page 12."
She walked out of the office, almost strutting and disappeared between the thick glass walls.
"Should we go after her?" Lance asked.
"Fuck her, she's a little sleazy all around," Arthur confessed. "Can you believe this place, man?"
"Not at all. These seem to be some kind of magic spells, Arthur, and it makes me wonder what your dad was really doing out there. This seems too over the top for even the craziest of the cray," Lancelot said.
Arthur nodded. He wondered what had happened to his father to drive him to this kind of madness. Arthur had shattered into pieces after Gwen's death but nothing that would lead to this.
"Sorry," Lance apologized. "It just seems extra strange."
"I agree. Are you reconsidering moving here?" Arthur asked.
"I'll let you know after I spend a night here. Where are the guys?"
Arthur tilted his ear to listen for sounds of Merlin's laugh or Gwaine's bellow but the house was strangely silent. "Silence is never good."
"I'll go down, you go up," Lance suggested. Arthur shrugged and they headed to the stairs. He hoped he could find his way back.
---------------------------------------------
Nimueh had never been into Uther's house of horrors before today, but she had to admit that it was pretty in a psychotic kind of way.
Uther had been her enemy longer than she could remember but she'd worked hard to smile and lie and make sure he thought they were friends. She had fluffy bank accounts to prove it.
The briefcase had been a surprise. Uther had smiled and patted her hand, kindly, and she would have been touched by his generosity if she cared.
She hoped it was full of money. Or bonds. Jewels. It could be anything. The years of working for the old bastard would finally pay off. She should be grateful he was dead but the briefcase was a nice bonus.
She held the gilded railing and took the stairs as fast as her stilettos would take her, skidding on the slick glass at the bottom.
Would it have killed him to put in a rug? Considering the entire house was constructed of glass scrawled with gibberish, it probably would.
There was a rack of plastic goggles hanging from hooks to the side and she hesitated. Uther wouldn't have made it easy for her to find the loot and she slipped a pair onto her face. The walls and floor lit up with more gibberish but true to crazy, there were arrows leading her down the hallway to the left.
There were no doors that she could see but there were golden gears and rods visible at the edges of the ceiling and floor. No matter what she knew about Uther Pendragon, nothing explained this level of strange.
The arrows led her to the end of the hallway and she looked back to make sure she could find her way back and the arrows were fading. Hell, it had to be hard to get lost in a glass house so she turned back around.
She cupped her hands together and put her face up to the glass panel that was blocking her way into the room at the end of the hall. The lighting left a lot to be desired but she could make out a small rectangular package.
She wasn't a rat in a cage; she shouldn't have to solve a puzzle to get what was rightfully hers. She ran her fingers around the edges of the panel to find a handle or something. She stepped closer and the floor shifted under her heels and she stumbled against the glass. The gears started turning around the ceiling as if the house was coming to life.
Movement caught her attention and she gasped in panic when she saw the man behind the glass. His head was trapped in an iron cage and his face marred with scars. His massive body was bound in a straitjacket but his face twisted and screamed in her face.
She bit back a scream and pushed back from the glass. There was movement to her left and she actually did scream when the slashed body of a woman stepped into her vision. Her lips were puffed with Botox and one of her eyes was missing. She was naked and bloodstained and raised her perfectly manicured nails to claw at the glass.
When she moved back instinctively from the grotesque ghosts, she knocked against the panel behind her and it moved. She sucked in a breath for another scream but something wrapped around her throat, choking her remaining air from her lungs.
Her eyes were flashing with black spots but she could still see the briefcase in her peripheral vision before she saw her attacker. It was a girl in a tattered prom dress holding a noose and smirking at her gleefully as she twisted the rope in her raw fingers. The ghost's eyes were bulging with busted blood vessels.
She reached out desperately but the ghost slipped through her fingers and the noose tightened.
She wasn't going to die here; she wouldn't give Uther the satisfaction. She struggled to scream but a small boy appeared in front of her.
She didn't have time to process the sword impaling him from front to back before the metal pierced her stomach. The pain took what little composure she had left as hot blood filled her throat and her intestines slipped through her hands and splattered to the floor.
She slumped and the noose finally cut off her vision and the sword stabbed into her chest.
Fuck Uther Pendragon.
Her body hit the floor with a squish.
---------------------------------------------
Lance wasn't sure what it was about this place, but he was pretty sure he wasn't going to be able to live here. The place felt evil and the foreign writing on the walls didn't make him feel any safer.
He shivered involuntarily when he reached the bottom of the stairs and saw the narrow walkways between eerily lit glass walls.
Arthur didn't talk about his father often, if ever, but Lance didn't know it was because the guy was batshit insane. Arthur might be depressed, but he wasn't *this* crazy. There was a rack of glasses hanging from the wall and he'd seen them placed everywhere. He pushed them onto his nose and suddenly he could understand the characters on the wall.
The monks had called it 'the language of the dead' and Lance's sense of foreboding quickly shifted into fear.
What the hell was this place? There was a grinding sound and the walls in front of him shifted and he heard a distant scream.
He started down the hall but a glass wall blocked the path. The lights flickered and he couldn't see anyone else - but the lawyer had gone down here, hadn't she? Where was she?
The words shifted in front of him. "The Pilgrimess". He jumped back when the image of an emaciated woman appeared in the reflection behind the glass, old fashioned rags hanging from her bony arms and legs. Her gray skin hung in flaps from her bones and there were leaves and cobwebs in her ratty hair.
Her spindle fingers were twisted into claws and he moved back further as she reached for him.
There had been a wall behind him but he stepped back into nothing, turning quickly to make sure she wasn't behind him.
Ghosts. The language of the dead was because of ghosts. Was this some kind of indoor cemetery?
A growl brought him back to reality, if that's what this was, and he snapped his eyes around the space. He looked down and cried out in surprise when he saw the screaming head sealed in cellophane bobbling at his feet.
Across the room, he saw a legless torso, clumsily crawling toward him on his hands.
-----------------------
Arthur searched the bedrooms, smiling when he saw the pile of clothes where Merlin had upended his suitcase in the floor in lieu of unpacking. He was going to personally make sure he folded all of them, just to watch him sulk. He was cute when he sulked.
But he was also missing. Arthur knew if he'd gone somewhere with Gwaine unsupervised that something would be broken soon. In a glass house, Arthur should be very worried.
He walked over to the bed and ran his fingers over the Merlin-shaped indention in the pillow. *Glasses, Arthur. Put on the glasses.*
It was like a whisper but Arthur could swear it was real. He didn't see anyone in the room but a pair of goggles skittered off the dresser and into the floor.
"I'm impressed they got a prank arranged in such a short time," Arthur said to himself. Gwaine was such a bad influence.
He leaned down and picked up the glasses, studying them. They were cool to the touch and being plastic, that was just weird. He put them on and the words on the wall lit up. They must have used some kind of invisible paint to make it do that.
"Arthur. You have to get out of this house. You have to save yourself. You have to leave."
Gwen's image flickered in front of him and he scrambled back, breathless and panicked.
Her body was red and marred with burns, the flesh raw and smoking. The room was filled with the smell of burned hair and skin. "Arthur. You have to go."
"Gwen? God, Gwen?" Arthur managed, choking on the smoke.
She reached for him, the skin melted down the bone. "You have to go, Arthur. Now. It has already begun, there's no time."
The image stuttered and disappeared in a crackle of sound and Arthur slumped to the floor.
-----------------------
"Did you hear that?" Gwaine asked.
Merlin wished he hadn't but he nodded. It was a scream. A manly scream. "Lancelot."
Gwaine pushed past him, taking the stairs two at a time until he skidded at the bottom and Merlin had to catch him by the arms. "I knew I should have put on real shoes."
"We all know how much you love your slippers," Merlin said. The air around them had gone cold and everything seemed to be pointing to a haunted house.
Merlin didn't believe in ghosts but he'd seen enough movies to give it a maybe today. "LANCELOT?"
"Cupping your hands around your mouth really doesn't make you louder," Gwaine said with a teasing nudge. It didn't break the tension as intended but it was a nice thought.
"Maybe he saw a mouse," Merlin said. He didn't like mice.
"Lance isn't scared of animals, just spiders. Maybe he saw a spider," Gwaine shrugged.
Merlin hoped for spiders as the words on the walls glowed suddenly and the gears started to turn and the glass started to slide.
"Fuck," Gwaine said with a gasp, grabbing his arms from behind and pulling him backwards. Merlin's eyes widened when he saw the hulking monster of a man flickering through the pane. He had a sledgehammer as a hand and railroad spikes piercing his body, oozing with blood. He was growling with rage, red tinted spittle splattering on the glass. The image flickered out as the walls came to a stop.
"You see that, too?" Merlin panted out, grateful for Gwaine's solid body behind him.
"What the hell is this place?" Gwaine whispered. "We should get out of here."
"We have to find Lancelot," Merlin said even if his mind was completely supportive of running for his life. "Ghosts can't hurt us."
Gwaine repeated softly. "Ghosts can't hurt us. Okay. Let's go with that."
Merlin waited for Gwaine to go first but his friend made a dramatic 'you first' gesture and he decided to make new friends very soon.
Gwaine stayed close, stepping on the heels of his sneakers with his fuzzy zebra slippers as Merlin moved down the newly open passageway. "Lancelot? Are you down here?" he called.
He hoped Arthur was okay, that Arthur was with Lancelot and not alone in here.
The lights flickered and the spells on the glass lit up again and Gwaine bumped into him when he froze.
"Merlin," Gwaine whispered.
"I see it," Merlin said, stuck in place.
The massive man had chunks of flesh hanging from his face and hands and his eerie eyes were laced with rage. The bat hanging from his tattered fingers was dripping with blood.
"He's not behind glass," Merlin realized as the ghost took a heavy step toward them, flickering and moving even closer. "Run."
Gwaine tugged him by his belt and then both turned their back on the monster. Stairs, if they could get to the stairs...
He cried out when his knees buckled from the force of the bat crashing into him from behind. His chin slammed into the floor and he spit blood as he was yanked backwards by his legs.
"Merlin!" Gwaine yelled but Merlin was dragged backwards, his blood streaking the floor. Gwaine caught his wrists and Merlin was the rope in a tug of war.
He kicked and tried to hold onto Gwaine and finally, the ghost released his legs. He scrambled to get his footing and had gotten to his knees with Gwaine's help when the ghost swung the bat again, knocking the breath out of him and slamming him into the wall.
He was vaguely aware of the walls shifting again and watching the ghost angrily swinging the bat at the glass as Gwaine crouched beside him. He'd never seen Gwaine scared but he didn't have much time to think about it before he blacked out.
-----------------------
Lance inched his way away from the dismembered ghost, glancing around for an exit when the glass wall slid back into place with the grinding of the gears in the ceiling.
New words lit up on the new walls and 'The Juggernaut' did not seem promising. He heard a yell, Gwaine, and sped up his steps away from The Torso and Pilgrimess. He'd face the Juggernaut for his friends if he had to.
They had to get out of here.
There was a low snarl behind him and a huge bloody man appeared from the shadows. His mouth was smeared with blood and he was carrying a severed arm in his giant hands, his body riddled with bullet holes. His gaze was locked on Lancelot and he didn't hesitate, doubling his speed toward the sounds he'd heard.
His feet slipped on the floor and he tripped over a body, slamming into the floor. The lawyer was crumpled on the floor, bloody and dead with bulging eyes.
Oh God. He kicked the body away instinctively and pushed himself to his feet, panicked. The ghost growled and crouched down beside the body, tearing into the woman's neck with his teeth. The thing seemed upset that the body was dead and snapped his face back to Lancelot.
He finally remembered that he was scared as shit and took off running down the hallway, ignoring the ghosts that were now lining up behind the glass panels.
There were so many that Lancelot couldn't waste time reading the labels. He had to find his friends and get the hell out of here.
He spotted Gwaine through one of the transparent walls and to his horror, saw Merlin slumped at his feet. They were both wearing the glasses so he knew they had figured out the hellish house. He slapped his hands against the wall to catch their attention. "Gwaine! Merlin!"
Gwaine's eyes widened and he left Merlin slumped but breathing to press against the glass. "What the fuck, Lance?"
"I don't even know but we have to get out of here," Lance said.
"We figured that part out already - these bloody walls keep moving, I can't find my way out and Merlin got smashed by some asshole with a baseball bat," Gwaine yelled.
Lance heard the growl of the Juggernaut and turned his back on his friends. He didn't want them to watch him die.
"No, no! Lance - run!" Gwaine pounded on the glass behind him.
He didn't have anywhere to run; the walls had closed him into a corner. He closed his eyes as the monster rumbled toward him.
"DUCK!"
Lance had played enough sports with Arthur to have an instinctive reaction, dropping to his knees as Arthur swung a heavy fire poker at his head, dissipating the ghost into smoke.
"Arthur," Lance breathed gratefully, embracing his friend around his knees. Thank god.
"What the hell's going on? There are ghosts - I saw Gwen and now..." Arthur said, his eyes wide with panic.
"We have to get to Gwaine and Merlin and then we have to burn this place to the ground," Lancelot said seriously. "You saw Gwen?"
Arthur nodded vacantly, his eyes locked on Merlin's unconscious body behind the glass. "She said we have to leave."
"She was always the smart one," Lance said, steadying Arthur with a quick squeeze of the wrist, taking the iron poker from him.
-----------------------
"I can't believe you're making me carry you like I'm some kind of fireman or something, you're such a drama queen," Gwaine muttered, Merlin hanging over his shoulder.
He really wanted him to wake up. It wasn't fair that he was going to be unconscious during the scariest thing that had ever happened to them.
Lancelot and Arthur seemed to be doing much better with the demonic spirits, or whatever they were. Arthur had luckily grabbed a weapon made of iron that scared the ghosts away and Lancelot conveniently remembered a language from his travels that let him name the monsters.
Gwaine didn't care about names of things trying to kill him. They couldn't find a connecting hallway yet, but the ghosts were quiet for the moment. Gwaine hoped Merlin would wake up before something else attacked. He was panicked enough without a hurt friend.
"Come on, there has to be a way out of here," Gwaine said.
"Ow."
Gwaine almost yelled in relief, stopping and gently lowering Merlin to the floor. "Em, look at me."
"I think you fucked my ribs up worse than the bat. Thank you," Merlin said with glazed eyes. "What did I miss?"
Gwaine huffed out a sigh of relief. "Nothing that I feel like going over again. Arthur and Lance are stuck down here, but we can't figure out how to meet up with this moving maze."
"What the fuck is this place? What was Arthur's dad thinking?" Merlin hesitated. "Is he okay?"
"Arthur? Scared as hell, but yeah. Can you walk?" Gwaine asked, hauling him to his feet before he could answer.
"I guess so," Merlin gasped, his fingers digging into Gwaine's arms.
Maybe he was being slightly rough with Merlin. "Are you all right?"
"You're asking that question a little late. Let's go," Merlin said, rolling his eyes and taking the lead. Gwaine remembered how that had worked out last time and moved beside him, sliding his arm around his waist to support him.
"I hate horror movies. Gwen used to say I would be the first to go because I'd trip over my own feet," Merlin said.
Gwaine didn't mention that Arthur had seen Gwen. Everyone knew how much Merlin loved her; she was his family long before even Arthur was in the picture. "At least you aren't wearing high heels."
"Very true," Merlin said.
The lights flickered and his grip on Merlin's hip tightened as the walls slid around them. "Keep your eyes open."
"Trying my best," Merlin said after a beat. "Wait. The glasses."
Gwaine realized he'd forgotten Merlin's goggles when he'd been checking him for damage after the Torn Prince incident. He wasn't going to think about how that ghost got his name.
"You just look for a way out," Gwaine said, swallowing thickly as he started to see movement other than the shifting panes of glass.
There was a flicker of light at the end of the hallway and he saw a small boy with a sword impaled in his chest. He was wearing a ragged knight's costume and a wicked smile.
"What is it?" Merlin asked when Gwaine stopped walking.
"We should go the other way," Gwaine said, turning around.
A naked woman with gaping wounds all over her body, like a bloodletting gone wrong, stood a few feet away, her head tilted to the side as she searched him with single eye.
"Uh," Gwaine said. They were trapped. "Got anything made of iron on you?"
"Iron? I don't think so. Gwaine, what is it? Is it the baseball guy?" Merlin asked, his voice shaking.
"No," Gwaine managed, pressing against the wall and holding Merlin beside him. "Let's just stand here and hope they go away."
"That's an awful plan," Merlin whispered but he didn't move.
Gwaine watched the two ghosts flickering and twitching as they approached. "I'm sure we'll be okay."
"You don't sound too sure," Merlin hissed back.
"Do you have any better ideas?"
There was a loud pop and a bright flash of light and the ghosts vanished.
"What the hell was that?" Merlin asked.
"The cavalry, come on, follow me." A stranger stepped out at the end of the corridor holding a strange weapon and waving at them.
"I can see him, so that means he's real, right?" Merlin asked.
"Let's go with that," Gwaine said, herding him toward the stranger. "Who are you?"
"Name's Will, I used to work for Uther, up until I figured out what he was actually doing," the man said, clutching the gun with white knuckles.
"What was he doing?" Gwaine asked.
"That's a longer story than we have time for right now, let's get upstairs before the walls move again, the countdown's already started," Will said. A countdown didn't sound good.
He glanced at Merlin but they didn't have any other choice at the moment. They needed to get out of this basement.
-----------------------
Arthur had no idea what was going on in this place. He'd assumed that his father was crazy considering he'd been a recluse for so long; but building a glass house was easier to wrap his head around than building a labyrinth full of killer ghosts.
And Gwen.
Why was she here in this hell? She wasn't evil; she didn't have a drop of evil in her blood. What was his father's goal in creating this place?
"Heads up," Lancelot caught his attention and he turned to find the newest ghost.
It was more of a disturbed fear this time; the tiny woman spoon-feeding the gigantic obese boy was horrifying without the threat of murder.
"The Great Child and the Dire Mother," Lancelot said.
Arthur spotted the axe a moment too late and the glass rattled when the tool hit it, startling them both backwards.
"We have to get to Merlin and Gwaine, we have to get out of here, this isn't right," Arthur said.
He wouldn't lose Merlin, not like he'd lost Gwen.
"Let's go this way," Arthur decided, backing away from the freaky ghosts and heading toward the opposite direction.
Lance walked backwards, skimming the corridor for ghosts as Arthur took the lead. He choked out a laugh when he spotted a set of stairs. "Finally," he said, taking them two at a time with Lance on his heels.
"Where the hell are we now?" Arthur asked when they'd stepped into an unfamiliar, yet still glass, room.
"The next time one of us inherits a house, we're totally getting a floor plan before we come visit," Lancelot said.
"Fuck that, we're selling it on the spot," Arthur muttered. He looked around the room, noticing the ceilings didn't have the gears and slides that had shifted the walls downstairs. He hoped that meant their luck was changing.
"What's that noise? Is this some kind of engine room?" Lance asked.
There was a dull roar, like grinding machinery and he realized that his luck was definitely not changing for the better.
They wound their way through the glass panels and into a round room. There were panels on the floor, spinning with the foreign symbols as huge gears moved above their heads.
"What the hell is this?" Arthur whispered.
"It's an Ocularis Infernum also known as the Eye of Hell. Created by the Devil and powered by the dead," a stranger's voice said.
He turned toward the voice and saw Gwaine and Merlin across the room.
"Thank fuck," Merlin sighed, walking over and hugging him tightly.
Arthur ran his hand through his hair, wincing at the dried blood. "Are you all right?"
"Much better now," Merlin whispered.
"What were you saying about the devil?" Lancelot recaptured his attention. "Who are you?"
"He said he worked for Uther," Gwaine said, moving over to their side of the room, leaving the stranger at a safe distance.
"I'm Will, I worked with Uther but I didn't know he was doing...this. The machine, it uses the souls of the damned to power it, it's supposed to give the creator the power to see the future," the man said, his eyes wide behind his goggles.
"How do you know about the machine if you didn't know what he was doing?" Arthur asked.
"There's a book, I helped him find a book. I couldn't read it, but it told him which ghosts he needed to build it, I didn't figure it out until he was already dead," Will said. "He owed me money, so I slipped in when you guys were unpacking. There was supposed to be a briefcase downstairs."
"The lawyer said that, too, and she's ripped to shreds," Lancelot said.
"Shit, she's dead?" Merlin whispered.
"Very very dead," Lancelot replied, visibly shaken.
"Why would Uther leave this place to Arthur if it was some kind of death trap?" Merlin asked.
"I don't think he was supposed to die. He was a bastard," Will said.
"Come now, it's impolite to speak ill of the dead."
Merlin's fingers dug into his arm as Arthur raised his eyes to the new voice. "Father?"
-----------------------
Father? Merlin had never met Arthur's father but he could see the resemblance, Arthur had his eyes, minus the glint of crazy in his father's.
For a dead man, he was in surprisingly good shape.
Arthur lost all his color and stared at his father blankly.
"Will is correct, however, I wasn't supposed to die. In fact, I didn't," Uther smiled. He turned to Will.
"What are you doing here, Uther? You didn't mention any of this, you didn't say you were making an Ocularis Infernum," Will said. "And where's my money?"
Uther rolled his eyes, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pistol. Merlin barely had time to gasp before he shot the man in the forehead. The machine seemed to speed up its spin as the man dropped to the floor.
"Jesus, man, what the hell?" Gwaine whispered.
"Sacrifices are necessary for this to work. You see, I've spent years collecting the souls to construct this machine," Uther said.
"Why?" Arthur whispered.
Merlin felt like he was listening to a Bond villain explaining everything at the end of a movie while they waited to die. He glanced at Gwaine and raised an eyebrow. Gwaine slotted his eyes to the side and Merlin saw a control room lit up with LEDs behind the glass. He nodded slightly and shifted his body to hopefully give Gwaine the distraction to investigate.
Uther's eyes didn't leave Arthur's and Merlin hoped Lancelot kept hold on the poker in case things got worse.
"This machine will grant me immortality, I'll know the future and I'll be able to experience it all," Uther said.
"You're insane," Lancelot said.
"Why all this? Why do you want Arthur?" Merlin asked.
"He's the final piece, the Thirteenth Ghost. It was a lucky turn of events, his wife dying so suddenly. He's wracked with grief, lost without her," Uther said evenly.
Arthur jolted, his eyes flashing with emotion.
"The Broken Heart," Uther smiled. "If you'll just move to the center of the circle, we can begin."
Something smashed behind him and they all turned to see Gwaine going batshit on the control panel, yanking gears and wires from the console with his bare hands.
There was a horrible grinding noise and the floor tiles started to spin faster and the motors above started to spark.
Uther raised his gun toward the glass and fired at Gwaine. The window shattered and the lights flickered and the floor started to shift beneath their feet as the floor panels slid apart and shining rings appeared between them.
"Oh shit," Lancelot said as the walls around the room all started to splinter. Merlin pulled Arthur and Lance into a tight huddle so the falling glass didn't hit their face or eyes.
"The ghosts," Merlin realized. The spells on the walls had been keeping the malevolent spirits outside but before the glass had finished falling, they were flooding the room.
"No, it's not time yet," Uther said, raising the gun again. The spirits surrounded him, hissing with rage.
"Guys, the floor," Lancelot said. Merlin realized the spinning silver rings were rising from the floor.
"Get out of there!" Gwaine yelled from the control room. "Hurry!"
Merlin took a step and a razor ring rose from the floor and almost cut his foot off before Lancelot yanked him back into the center. "Fuck!"
He glanced up and saw Arthur standing outside of the circle as the razor rings began spinning over and around them, trapping them in a sphere of blades.
-----------------------
Arthur turned to find his father, to demand that this stop right now, but his father was screaming, the sound muffled by the machine's whirring as the ghosts tore him to pieces.
Gwaine was smashing things in the control room and the center of the circle was getting smaller as more spinning rings rose from the floor.
"A little help over here?" Lancelot called, clinging to Merlin's back to try to make themselves smaller in the dwindling center circle.
Arthur turned away from his father and started toward Gwaine in the control room to help him smash things but Gwen appeared in front of him, not scarred this time, not burnt, but as beautiful as he remembered. She was wearing the dress she'd died in and he was seeing her as she was that night she waited for him and burned for it.
"It has to be you. You have to save him," she said.
"What?" Arthur could be a little slow sometimes, but he didn't understand.
She raised her hand to his cheek but didn't touch, the coolness of her spirit brushing his chin. "You have to take care of him, you have to go to him."
"Won't that activate the machine? Isn't there another way?"
"You're not The Broken Heart. You love him, you have to prove it," Gwen said, smiling sadly.
Arthur turned back and met Merlin's eyes through the flashing rings. Merlin shook his head. "You can't - they're going too fast, you can't - "
"I knew you guys were hooking up!" Gwaine yelled from inside the control room. "Lance owes me twenty bucks!"
Arthur held his breath.
"Arthur - no - " Merlin yelled.
He counted to three and closed his eyes, stepping into the circles.
"Oh my fucking God, you're an idiot," Merlin's arms were suddenly around him and his breath hot in his ear. "Such a fucking idiot."
Arthur buried his face in his neck and held on as the room crumbled around them.
"As romantic and tragic as this is turning out to be, I think we should get the fuck off this thing while the razors are off," Lancelot said.
Arthur opened his eyes and saw the rings falling through the cracks of the floor as the panels shifted and dropped.
"Come on, the whole thing's coming down!" Gwaine stepped out of the control room and helped them off the pedestal a second before the entire circle of panels and rings crashed through the floor into the basement.
"Wait - your father," Merlin said, grabbing at his arm. They turned and watched the ghosts fade into the air one by one, his father's body hacked into bloody chunks leaking on the patch of remaining floor.
"It's too late for him, we have to go," Lancelot said. He grabbed his wrist and pulled them from the room.
They ran.
-----------------------
Lancelot was exhausted after the cop interviews and visits with handsy paramedics but he followed Gwaine to the hotel bar without a thought.
Merlin tossed a twenty in their general direction and collapsed in the first open booth they found, folding his arms and cushioning his head to the right with his matted hair exposed around the stitches.
"Get everything," Arthur said to Gwaine blankly, sitting down beside Merlin and mirroring his posture, facing him against the table.
He was vaguely aware that they looked like they were returning from battle, which in a way, they were. The bartender's eyes went wide when Gwaine held out a credit card with bandaged fingers dotted with red. "We've had a really bad night. Give us two bottles of your most expensive whiskey. And all the food."
"Sir? All the food?" the bartender asked, raising an eyebrow. Gwaine extended his arms. "All the food."
"Just a sampler of whatever, I doubt we'll last as long as he thinks," Lancelot said when Gwaine wandered over to the booth.
"Sure thing." The bartender handed him two bottles from the end of the shelves but Lancelot didn't bother with the glasses, taking his loot to the table.
They passed the bottles around, gulping down the shocking whiskey. The fire in his gut seemed to bring him back to reality.
"The fuck just happened?" Merlin blurted out in a hiss.
"I'm never going to sleep again," Gwaine said.
"I wish I still smoked pot," Lancelot said.
"I'm sorry," Arthur said.
"Shut up, this isn't your fault. Your dad's, yeah, but not yours," Merlin said.
"Still. I got you into this mess," Arthur said.
"You also got us out," Lance said. "How long have you been getting horizontal with our roommate?"
"Told you, I knew it ages ago," Gwaine smirked.
"Can we talk about the ghosts that totally shattered my worldview and theology?" Merlin deflected.
"I'd rather talk about sex," Gwaine said.
Merlin flipped him the finger, Arthur kicked him under the table and Gwaine snickered. Lance knew they'd be okay.
Poll