welcome to trashville

Well, there it was. All cool and composed on the outside, Frederick was actually easily freaked out and a heavy sleeper, so not only did it take a good while of shaking his shoulder for Will to get a reaction out of him but also…

“ – F-fuck.” He just jumped up, slightly, eyes popping open. It didn’t look terribly bad but that’s just because the freak out was mostly internal, and Chilton’s heart was now in his throat, thumping like crazy. 

For a second there, in his dreams, he could see another face right next to his own, and the hand on his shoulder was much, much colder. Only then he realised that, instinctively, he grabbed on Graham’s wrist, not too hard but quite desperate. God. 

“ – Ah, s-sorry, I – I’m just dead tired. Sorry.” Stop apologizing. Jesus. Get your shit together. “It’s – where are we?”

Trying not to think about how close Will has gotten to him while trying to shake him awake, Frederick shifted uncomfortably and looked out of the window. Yep, they were still a good while away. “Right, it’s… Just straight forward and then take a right on the next turn. I’ll – I’ll try to stay awake.”

The hand around Will’s wrist startled him and he jumped a little too, feeling like an idiot for it. At least it reminded him to move away again, because without fully realising it he had really encroached on Frederick’s personal space.

“I have no clue where we are, you tell me.” When Frederick did, Will followed his directions without another word, mostly focused on the road but also kind of stuck in that moment, playing it over in his head for some bizarre reason.

Something was definitely up and he had no idea what.

The silence felt endless and he wanted to break out of his thoughts, so Will decided to break it without giving much thought to what he was actually going to say. “Sorry, I uh -- I didn’t want to have to wake you, but -- you know, I need directions. Sorry.” Great, now he was the one who kept apologising.

“What I mean is, um, you look like you need the sleep -- okay, I didn’t mean it like that, uh... it’s just, you looked peaceful, until -- Christ, ignore me, I’m really sleep deprived too.”

Frederick was too busy feeling awkward in his own body, somehow even more self-aware right now than in that fucking bed, under the same covers as Graham, so he didn’t notice the other’s struggle. 

Will’s words managed to get that tension out of the car, even if just slightly. Frederick huffed out a laugh and rolled his eyes. “Sure, yeah. I will let you take this one, why not. Let the people freak out a bit.”

He was too tired to really think about the whole situation. He sighed deeply and rested his head against the seat, eyes fluttering close. Jesus, he needed sleep, badly, and now that the tension was slowly rolling off and away from his body, the need almost attacked him.

“The comments were nice, huh? I wasn’t – I mean, I do think we are good or whatever, but – the feedback was great. Makes me happy I decided to participate. It’s a good project.” Wow, he really said some cheesy shit when sleepy.

Frederick decided to shut up and, even though he tried to stay awake, after giving Will some vague directions towards his place, he fell asleep.

What worried Will perhaps more than anything else was the way that Frederick just conceded, the way that he let him have that little victory without any resistance. Something was seriously wrong and he had no clue how to undo it.

When Chilton started talking about their positive feedback, Will was too focused on not missing a turning, so it was a little while before he replied, agreeing. And only received silence in response.

“Um... Frederick?” He flashed a glance in his direction. “Are you asleep?” Well that was a stupid question to ask when Chilton couldn't reply.

Will had somehow ended up with his co-host flat out in his car and no idea where the hell he was going – in the dead of the night. He pulled over as soon as he could and tried to wake Frederick again with his words.

But words clearly weren’t going to cut it.

So Will leaned closer hesitantly and forced himself to give the other man a little shake of the shoulder, trying all the while not to dwell on the way he looked so soft and peaceful and the streetlights hit him just so to highlight the stubble on his face, the curve of his cheeks and upturned lips and... fuck.

Chilton followed Will without any extra remarks and unnecessary comments. Whatever they managed to capture was enough and, with how freezing he was and how exhausted he felt for some reason, he felt no need to talk more. 

He wouldn’t know what to say, honestly.

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” he lied, easily, through his teeth. The fingertips that grazed his back seemed to still linger there, still burn. “Just – well, obviously, my car is not here, so… Beverly was supposed to give me a lift in the morning. We need to let her know we left. –

– Would you… Could I, uh, get a lift off you? My place is a bit far from here to be honest, but – I’ll give you some gas cash.”

Frederick felt extremely stupid, standing there in the cold, in his sweatpants and hair not done, still slightly wet on the back of his head. It was the first time they were pretty much forced to be so close to each other and share space for such a long time, and he didn’t quite know how to feel about that.

Being calm and collected felt so much more comfortable and right now he was being pushed out of his comfort zone. 

“Oh. Of course,” Will found himself saying before he could even think about it. Well, what else could he fucking say? No, because I think we had a moment and my mind can’t compute it?

“And you don’t have to do that, it’s fine. You will have to direct me, though. My car’s this way.” Will gestured with his hand and then followed in that direction, pointedly not looking at Frederick as he walked beside him.

They reached the car in silence and loaded the trunk in the same, before sitting down inside. Only when he lifted his hands to grip the steering wheel did Graham realise that they were still trembling -- hopefully not in a way that might have been noticed by the other man.

He had to say something, at some point. Fuck, things were so much easier when Frederick wasn’t all quiet like this, when they challenged and antagonised each other’s opinions on all manner of supernatural-related things. So as he pulled out of the parking space, Will made a feeble attempt to resurrect that more easy-going dynamic between them.

“Hmm, you know -- you felt... it before I did, whatever it was. Cold hands. And there’s no way the draught could have reached beneath the covers, so... I think that’s a point for Team Will.”

Frederick wasn’t going to fall asleep anytime soon anyway, but he managed to get lost in thoughts and the way Will nothing but shot up on the bed next to him made Chilton’s heart leap into his throat. Jesus.

He wished he could say that was him touching Graham. He wished he could mean it completely when he said:

“N-now it’s just your imagination, probably. Just because I said something touched me, you’re feeling it too.” He reached out to place a comforting hand on Will’s shoulder but hesitated and just rested it back on the covers. Too much touching for one night. “You’re freaking yourself out. Now…”

He sat up as well, seeing how clearly shaken up Graham was. “How about it we leave, then? I mean, I don’t want you to get a heart attack just because we are trying to prove a point here.”

Even though his mind was occupied with worry and fear, he still couldn’t ignore the way Graham’s muscles flexed and moved underneath the a little too tight shirt, how good the man looked.

This was so confusing.

Yes, Frederick could be an ass. But as much as he tried to cover that fact up with his snarky remarks, Will still knew that he was really a nice guy. There was genuine concern in his voice now.

“Yeah. Yeah, let’s just get out of here.” With the strange way that he felt, Will didn’t feel like doing any bits to the camera – they probably had enough of him freaking out already – so they got straight to packing away all of their equipment and sleeping stuff.

One step out of the front door and the sigh of relief came automatically, before the frigid air could even hit the back of his throat. Graham’s car was parked a block away, and, arms laden with bags, he turned to walk in that direction, only to spin back around after a few steps.

“Thank you,” he murmured, “for suggesting that we leave. I feel so much better now, the energy in there was all... creepy. And what about... are you okay?”

He asked because, for as much as he could see under the street lights, Chilton looked as pale as – you guessed it, a ghost. Will was conscious of not letting his gaze linger though, very conscious.

Whatever happened in there was over now.

Will’s hands were, indeed, very warm. So was his breath, ghosting over Frederick’s face, and so were his eyes, even though there was visible, real fear in them, and that’s what made Frederick remember to snap out of it and fucking breathe.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine, jesus. You’re intense.” Trying to scoot away would look way too obvious on the cameras, and Chilton was painfully aware of the ones aiming straight at them and the bed. Thank fuck it was dark and their face expressions won’t be visible later on. “I just – felt something cold on my shoulder, is all.”

He wasn’t going to admit he also felt hands on the small of his back. Imagination really played tricks on him this night, and he wasn’t going to feed the believers more. This was enough.

The hand on his shoulder was comforting but Chilton’s skin underneath it tingled in a way he didn’t want to think about while having Graham’s face in his own. He moved the shoulder a little, trying to shake the touch off of it  gently. “I’m fine, Will. Don’t freak out, yeah?”

And if, before he finally scooted away, his eyes darted down to Graham’s lips, he would push it into the back of his head, along with how real the cold hands on him felt.

Frederick moved away from him and Will’s heartbeat slowly resumed a natural pace. Maybe he hadn’t handled that in the best way; his co-host wasn’t the first person to call him intense, meaning weird, but it wasn’t the time to dwell on that.

He knew Frederick well enough to know that he was definitely spooked. The only reason that Graham didn’t push the matter more, the only reason he didn’t pester him to admit that something supernatural might have happened, was that he was equally spooked. Maybe even more so.

And in more than just the one way, unsure which was the scarier. Because although it was dark in that bedroom, it wasn’t pitch black -- so Will had just about made out that way that Chilton had looked at him.

He shuffled away wordlessly, turning his back to the other again. Fuck, he was never going to fall asleep now, there was simply no chance. The seconds fell by, and then minutes, with nothing but the sour taste of fear at the back of his throat. Until --

“Ohhh, holy fuck, fuck.” Will’s body jerked and he sat up in a start. A cold tingle, just like the feel of fingertips just barely ghosting over his skin, had just raced down his back. Something impossible to imagine. “I felt -- I felt it too. What the fuck is that?”

It hasn’t been a long time indeed. Sleep was the furthest thing Frederick would be getting anytime soon, even though he really, desperately just wanted to escape into its arms – and be done with this.

All that was happening, was that the man felt tense and extremely self-aware in this position; both from the presence of the cameras and a certain individual, literal inches away from him, on a fucking bed.

So, when Graham called out to him, Frederick’s voice was a little annoyed but deep down he was kind of grateful for that silence breaker.

“ – Well, now I am.” And, before he managed to utter any other word, there was a hint, just a hint of a touch on his arm. Right, it was so brief that Graham probably grazed him by accident, as the ice cold fingertips were gone as quick as they ghosted over him.

Frederick decided not to mention it. At all. Especially that it gave him a weird, tingly feeling that ate away right into his stomach, and he lost his voice for a second. Jesus, he wasn’t touch starved, was he now? No, it was probably just fear, it took him by surprise in the end.

But then it was there again, on the small on his back, clearly intentional. And it didn’t disappear until Chilton found a voice in himself to say:

“Will, would you terribly mind to quit touching my back with your freezing hands, please.”

Will had already detected the hint of something off in Frederick’s voice, but he hadn’t thought anything of it before that puzzling request that he made.

“Huh?” was his first response, until he confirmed internally that he hadn’t misheard. “Frederick, my hands aren't – they aren’t anywhere near you, I’m facing the other way.”

Only then did he turn over onto his other side and whoa, Frederick’s face was really fucking close. Will was also suddenly hyper-aware of the way that the mattress dipped in the middle, kind of rolling him even closer towards the warmth of the other man. But he had a more pressing matter on his mind.

“Wait – holy shit. Does that mean... are you telling me that you felt something... that – you can’t explain? Because it really wasn’t me –“

It happened in slow motion, in stark contract to the pulse racing faster and faster beneath his skin. Will watched on as his hand reached out of its own volition and he said “my hands are always warm, feel,” as he held onto one of Frederick's own in demonstration.

Quickly but perhaps not quickly enough, Will released his grip again and shifted to rest his hand lightly, comfortingly on the Chilton’s shoulder instead. “Are you alright?” he asked, voice barely reaching a whisper now.

Because he definitely wasn’t.

Frederick wasn’t worried about a ghost of Hannibal Lecter poking him in his sleep so, obviously, the thought that Will is didn’t really cross his mind there. He tried not to dwell on the fact that the man seem reluctant to share the bed with him either.

The shower he took was quick, as, no matter how long he waited, the water just wouldn’t warm him enough. The bathroom was freezing, even though steam covered all of the mirrors, he was still shivering while stepping out of the cabin and dressing himself back up.

There was some weird twist in his stomach, as Frederick made his way back to the room, for reasons unknown. The house was quiet – dead quiet and cold, and dark, and the thought it was just him and Will there, about to spend the night here, felt just – well, very bizarre.

He opened the door slowly, wearing not his usual home pyjamas but sweatpants and a hoodie instead, as, yep, you guessed it, it was fucking cold. Taking a glance at the man, already sitting down on the bed with the sleeping bag on it didn’t help that weird little twist.

“Alright, I think we can turn the cameras on,” Frederick said and, without waiting for a reply, beelined to the stative and switched the devices on. It should make talking less awkward, knowing they’re not just muttering things to each other. “So, except from worried about freezing to death through the night, how are you feeling about sleeping in this place, huh?”

“Uhh, I’m not feeling great, Frederick.” That was completely honest. “Hannibal actually slept in here, like, imagine how much time he spent in this room. If his spirit is still around he’s just gotta be lingering here, as much as I fucking hope that isn’t the case.”

As well as that, Will could definitely sense some strange vibes coming off the other man, but they really were the least of his worries at the time. He slid into his sleeping bag and laid the thick blanket from the foot of the bed over himself. Will then closed his eyes, waiting for the bed to dip as a sign that Frederick was getting in beside him.

“Let’s just try and get some sleep, I guess.” Will was already counting down in his head – seven hours and they’d be out of there. He had to admit though, if only to himself, that there was a source of something unnerving there that wasn’t to do with Hannibal Lecter at all but with being truly alone with his co-host in such a situation – an unusual fluttering in his chest.

Again though, it was the least of his worries, masked by a much more potent fear, fear that gripped his whole body, that made his skin tingle and his hands tremble as they rested on the pillow beside his head.

Being alone with that deep sense of dread was worse than he could have imagined, and Will was sure it hadn’t been very long until he had to ask, turning onto his side as he murmured –

“Frederick? Are you still awake?”

The cameras weren’t on yet, so Frederick didn’t bother being entertaining while unpacking. They were going to record the whole night, though, in “hopes” they will catch something on tape. Which was not going to happen but, oh well. Maybe they will catch Graham’s snoring, or something.

That was the first time they were actually spending the night in one of the locations and Frederick was quite happy about the actual bed being there. He saw some other ghosthunting videos, for reference, and some people slept in the weirdest, dirtiest places. He was not down for that, thank you very much.

And then, when he turned around, he noticed Will staring the bed down, the sleeping bag in his hands, and… what was happening here?  “ – I don’t know about you, but I took the sleeping bag with me just for some extra warmth, in case it’s freezing. Which was a good call, but, yeah, I’m definitely sleeping on the bed.”

Whoa, it kind of sounded a little rude and just as if he claimed it, or something. Frederick cleared his throat and shrugged a little, trying to look very neutral and unbothered. “I mean, I’m not saying you can’t. I don’t mind, really, it’s big enough.” Well, now it sounded a little weird. “I know how my viewers are, anyway. They’d never stop making jokes about men being uncomfortable with sharing things and all that.”

It was a good point, even though he just used it as an excuse for being a bit too blunt. “Aight, I’ll go and – I’ll just go and change, then.” And with that, Frederick was out of the room and headed to the bathroom just across the upstairs hall.

The problem wasn’t that Will was in any way uncomfortable with sharing the bed with Frederick, no. And yeah, the bed was definitely big enough, it looked queen or king-size. He was a little more concerned about somebody else.

That was Hannibal Lecter’s actual bed there and the thought of sleeping where that monster had just spooked Will out. But he hadn’t had the opportunity to voice his concern because it was difficult to get a word in edgewise when Frederick got rambling and then disappeared down the hallway.

While he had the room to himself — because Beverly had left, she wasn’t staying the night with them — Will quickly got changed into the pyjamas he had brought with him and waited for Frederick to return, but he was taking his sweet time.

There seemed to be no two ways about it, he was going to have to sleep in Hannibal Lecter’s bed. Oh, the things they did for the views — this had better pay off, he thought to himself. Well, at least Will wasn’t alone. Although he wasn’t sure how much use Frederick would be if the spirits came for them in the middle of the night; dry wit and sass weren’t likely to fare as good weapons against supernatural beings.

Will claimed the far side of the bed, laying his sleeping bag down across it and then sitting on it with his legs thrown over the side. He was scrolling through the comments on their video again when the door creaked open.

“‘M fine,” Frederick muttered back, quite impressed with the way Will played his concern off in front of the cameras. Whenever they were left alone and the cameras were off, things seem to be way more distanced and quiet. Well, that was kind of how they were in real life, though. Frederick had this thick wall of sarcasm and sass around, and peeked from behind it in front of just a few people. Will – well, he was just Will.

“Yeah, looks like the ghost box picked up on some culinary channel, or whatever,” Frederick rolled his eyes and then picked up the flashlight and gave it a slight shake. It stopped flickering. “See? It’s just the battery, or something. It happens with flashlights. The only thing I am willing to admit is giving me the chills, is just how fucking cold it is. –

– Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think it’s because of a g-g-g-ghost,” he stuttered mockingly, looking at the camera. “It’s the basement of a huge fucking house that hasn’t had the heating turned on for a few years now.”

Even Beverly seemed uneasy, with the way she’d just fidget behind the camera, and rub her arms occasionally. “Right, Dr Lecter. Can you be so nice and turn this flashlight off for me if you want to eat me?”

The light went off just as he closed his mouth. The timing was so perfect, Frederick got stunned for a hot second there. “Oh, my. – Well, as flattered as I am, I’m afraid you will have to take me out for dinner first. Definitely not a homemade one, though, I’m vegetarian.” 

The light flicked back on and the spirit box started mumbling something again, but he couldn’t make up the words. 

Will was pretty on edge throughout his co-host’s exchange with what he supposed was in fact Hannibal Lecter’s spirit, but he let him go on with his light-hearted ‘poke fun at the ghost’ bit that he always did. Still, he was not expecting how that ended.

“Jesus Frederick,” he sighed, the pitch of his voice a touch uneven, “are you seriously flirting with the guy? I am one hundred percent blaming you if this creep follows us out of here.  Sorry, Dr Creep.”

Despite being as anxious as he was Will couldn’t resist that joke, and he knew it would go down well with the viewers. Yes, the two of them were being themselves but they both understood how they had to play certain things up to the camera. With that though, Will was suddenly reminded of that screenshot from their first video and what it looked like, but he pushed it away.

Will had also noticed the little reactions of both Frederick and Beverly to being down in that basement, and he just knew it was more than just a normal coldness that they were experiencing. Then again, his own conviction meant shockingly little to his staunch non-believer of a co-host.

“Right, I think we’re done here,” Beverly said, turning off the camera, and Will breathed a loud sigh of relief at that. Who knew he would actually be impatient to get back up to the master bedroom? He certainly wasn’t any longer when they actually got up there.

They unpacked their sleeping bags and pillows, and set up the relevant equipment. Will stood in the middle of the room, staring noticeably at the bed. Surely sleeping on the wooden floor held a significant risk of hypothermia or something of the like, and the bed was right there...

There definitely was a weird smell down in that basement and, if he didn’t know it’s just not fucking possible, Frederick would have thought that it was indeed blood. Instead of saying that, he just scoffed. “Will, I’m pretty sure all the bodies have been long cleaned up. –

– It’s just how old basements smell. Except this one is, like… more of a creepy, fancy dungeon.” 

Beverly gave up on trying to find a light switch. Instead, she just handed them flashlights with an apologetic shrug. “I mean, it makes sense. The switch is probably not the first thing just anyone could have found when they walked in there. Just so it could give him some time to run away or, whatever. –

– Isn’t that how he got the first few FBI agents trying to shoot him? By just getting them down here, in the darkness?” Frederick carefully went down the stairs, lighting the way, but ended up slipping a little anyway. 

Actually, it felt like someone fucking kicked his ankle but that wasn’t possible.

“Ah, shit –” he muttered out, trying to catch his balance and catching something else in the process. Which was Graham’s wrist. And, yep, he kind of grabbed it really hard. “Fuck. Sorry, Will, I was trying not to embarrass myself in front of the internet. Because there’s no way you guys wouldn’t have it posted if I actually fell.” He straightened himself and just kept walking down, hand tingling slightly.

And there they were, downstairs, surrounded by darkness and metallic, heavy smell. “So – how do you want to do it?”

“Now that would have been quality viewing," Will replied – when he caught his breath back. “You should have let it happen for the views, Frederick,” he joked. “Just imagine the GIFs.”

Despite their bickering in front of the cameras, in all the time that Will had actually kind of warmed to Frederick, so he was naturally bit concerned. Just a little bit. “You’re okay though, right?” he asked, trying to seem casual about it. Frederick seemed fine — his own wrist, not so much. Eh, they had more important things to worry about down there.

After a quick look around, Will decided to do the inevitable. “Let’s get the spirit box out again.” It took him a minute or two to set it up and Will also placed his flashlight down on the floor, giving the spirit – or spirits – not one but two possible means of communicating with them.

“If you’re here, Dr Lecter – or anybody else, give us a sign.” The flashlight flickered on and off in a few rapid flashes, and Will’s eyes widened in surprise. “Is that Hannibal?”

His heart leapt into his throat as the spirit box picked up a couple of sounds that sounded an awful lot like “mm, tasty”.

“Well, it looks like we have company,” Will murmured, trying desperately to keep his chill. Speaking of chill, it had to be subzero down there and he didn’t appreciate whatever was causing those prickly sensations on the back of his neck. “Wait – we aren’t sleeping down here, right? Right?”

Frederick actually laughed at the horror movie comment. It didn’t exactly offend him, he always liked those poor sassy bastards that got killed off first just because they didn’t believe in spiritual bullshit. Because he knew that, if it was reality, they’d be the ones to have their last laugh.

“ – Should I be wary sharing the room with you tonight?”, he asked, a sly smile on his face, looking over at Will. He couldn’t miss the weird face expression the other had while looking at the phone, though, so, curiously, he walked over there with the tea ready in mugs.

Hm. These didn’t seem to be manips, just screenshots with some added flowers. Some of them had both Will and Frederick looking at each other, mostly smiling, but then there was one with just him staring at Will. Jesus, people had an eye for catching tiny moments like that. 

He wasn’t going to be embarrassed about it, of course. “There you go,” he muttered, handing one cup to Beverly and the other to Will, and then got back to get his own and, finally, took the phone out of his pocket.

People’s reaction was overwhelmingly positive. Frederick felt pride bubbling in his chest, and a tiny smile was dancing on his lips. Well, until he read a comment that said ‘lmao frederick is totally torn in between punching will and jumping him when they try to talk to that demon’.

“Right, guys,” Beverly finally said, snapping him out of being extremely offended. “Time to head to the basement, I think?”

A little shocked, it took Will a moment to reply, but he soon quirked a brow and regarded the other man with an incredulous expression. “Oh, it’s not me you need to be afraid of.”

He wasn’t joking. The serial killer had been shot dead in his basement by agents, and it was also where he kept his… meat. Needless to say, it made sense for it to be the most spiritually active area in the house. Who knew what they’d find down there?

Will gulped down the rest of his tea and ouch, fuck, it was too hot. Just what he needed. He hesitantly followed the others as they made their way through a hatch door and then down a creaky staircase into the darkness of the much-discussed basement.

“Okay, so this is where Hannibal the Cannibal… Jesus, and the name… how did no one –” Will stared straight into the camera, deadpan. “I’m starting to feel like our show should be just called ‘Shocking Instances of Police Incompetence’. Well, at least they got him in the end.”

– In what could only have been described as a bloodbath, from what he had heard. It was safe to say that at the very least, this was going to make for an interesting episode. (If he made it through.)

The wait for Beverly to find a light switch seemed to last forever, and meanwhile… “Frederick – there’s a really weird smell down here and if you tell me that it’s blood I’m clocking the fuck out.”

Frederick looked at the spirit box with narrowed eyes, his skepticism making him question even those noises, and then he looked up at Will with just a hint of amusement. “Aw, are you chickening out? I’ll stay here by myself, if you don’t want to. I mean, with Abel, duh, sorry.”

The spirit box didn’t make any more noises and they wrapped up the shot. They decided to take a short break before going down to the basement, which was supposed to be the worst part of the house. Frederick was assuming they’d try to talk to the man himself.

And, even though he still absolutely didn’t believe in any of this, he wasn’t looking forward to it.

“Guys,” Beverly said excitedly, after they sat down in the kitchen, phone in her hand. “The first episode just aired and it already has so many views. Check it out.”

Frederick was busy making tea for everyone and he commited to it, so checking his own phone had to wait. Instead of doing that, he just looked over at the other two. “What are the comments saying? Do people like it?”

Yeah, he was pretty anxious about that, sue him. He never really worried about people liking his own series, as that was something he was used to doing and confident in. This, on the other hand, was entirely new ground he stepped on.

As they settled in the kitchen, Will still felt a little on edge, partly because of what happened upstairs but also because he knew what had gone on where they now sat. The comments on their first video provided a welcome, pleasant distraction.

Most of the comments were positive but fairly tame, and Beverly read out one of those. “I love this! These two are great at presenting the cases from different angles! Can’t wait for more.”

Will quickly opened up them up his own phone and scanned through, trying to ignore those comments that just focused on how ‘hot’ they were, something that he was already used to doing on his own videos. "It seems as though... they like it? Us?”

“Haha, look at this!” Beverly exclaimed, turning her phone so that Will could see. He began reading the comment aloud before realising the direction in which it was headed. “Frederick is 100% that cocky guy that would die first in a horror movie, but... is it Will that kills him for angering the ‘spirits that be’?”

Will scoffed, but his attention was diverted before he could react to that. “Christ, someone made an edit of us... wearing flower crowns and smiling at each other?” It was multiple edits. Did they smile at each other that often? Well – to be fair, some of the looks weren’t smiley as such...

He chose to ignore that. “I don’t think flower crowns quite fit the vibe we’re going for here, but hey.”

Frederick rolled his eyes, neither seeing the shadow or feeling any sensations. “You need to take a chill pill, Graham.” But then he noticed how Will’s hands trembled and, subconsciously, his tone turned less mocking. “Your mind tends to play tricks on you when you’re freaking out. –

– Placebo works miracles. I got my friend high on oregano in college. Doesn’t talk to me until this day. Anywho…”

He sighed, looking over to the side, where their equipment was laying. “Right. Wanna go with the stupid ghost box?” Frederick knew the ‘real’ name for the thing was spirit box, and he also knew it was just a device scanning radio stations, one per 0.2 seconds. So, technically, if you heard a longer word or a sentence while listening to it, it would have to be something spooky.

Frederick, personally, thought it was bullshit. But, hey, Will liked it.

They placed the spirit box in between them and let Will turn it on. The loud noise made him wince as usual. “So, Abel. Up for a chat? Wanna tell me what you really think?”

And, yeah, okay, it picked up a tiny, male voice that said something that sounded like ‘prick’, but it was just one, short word, so it didn’t really count.

Tension rolling off his shoulders for a few seconds, Will found himself actually sniggering at that noise — even if his racing pulse showed no signs of slowing down.

“Did you hear it? Was it ‘dick’ or.. oh, he called you a prick.” Will knew exactly what Frederick’s response to that would be, so he continued, getting there before him. “I know what you’re gonna say, that it was just a one syllable sound but I bet we’ll get something longer.”

This time it happened without any prompting on their part, the spirit box picking up a string of words (or word-like sounds): ‘You get out’.

"Was that ‘get out’? ‘You get out’?” It sounded like he was asking but Will was quite sure of what he heard. “That isn’t just radio interference and you know it. That sound came from a few channels, not just one.”

He was suddenly reminded of the fact that they weren’t planning to ‘get out’ for quite some time yet — they were supposed to spend the whole night in that room. He immediately regretted choosing to summon Gideon's spirit in the way they did, because who knew what he was capable of?

“Fuck this, no way, nuh-uh, I’m not staying here,” he muttered out. “Unlike you, I don’t have a death wish.” This was the closest Will had come to losing his shit on any of their shoots, but this was the indisputable scene of a number of crimes and he honestly felt unsafe there.

As Will started talking to the air, Frederick sighed dramatically and waited through the silence. “Yeah, Abel, show us what you’ve got. Or, in this case, what you haven’t. Which is legs. ‘Cause Hannibal had them for dinner.”

And then this fucking sound happened, and Frederick looked up into the camera with his eyebrows raised. “…Yeah, no, you didn’t. It’s a big house, Will. Things tend to make noises in places like that.” 

Chilton genuinely didn’t believe in the supernatural, which didn’t stop him from being a scaredy cat. In this case he was more concerned for the alive things that could be lurking in the darkness. What if there were rats? Or some knife wielding junkies?

“Or we’re gonna get attacked by something that actually exists. Imagine the views, though.” Shaking his head just slightly, he got quiet for a moment, listening again. Nothing. “Ah, come on, Abel, humour us a little. My friend Will here really wants to prove his stupid point to me, so… 

– Dunno, tickle his ear. Knock on the door. Take my guts out. Whatever.”

And, no, he couldn’t see it but there was a slight shadow-y movement behind him. It lasted a split second and wouldn’t be seen on the video later, but there was definitely something.

Will stayed silent, listening out as Frederick rambled on -- and he couldn’t quite believe his ears. “Would you stop goading him?” he gritted out, heart racing. “Christ Frederick, you’ll be the end of us, I swear to God.”

Then he spoke louder, to someone else instead. “Err, my friend really didn’t mean that. Let us know of your presence, please, but uh... just a little sign. We don’t mean you any harm, Abel.”

More silence, and then he saw the shadow moving. And Chilton might only have been joking about the ghost of Abel Gideon tickling Will’s ear, but less than two seconds later, Will almost jumped out of his skin because of a weird sensation on his right earlobe.

Now he was definitively freaking out, as much as he did for a generally calm and composed person.

“Oh my fucking god,” he whispered, frozen still, “I saw something move behind you, I promise you, and I felt something on my ear, it honestly gave me goosebumps. There’s definitely something, someone here...

-- Just -- don’t anger it, but I think we should try out some of the new equipment to detect it. Him, sorry.” Flashlight held in both trembling hands, Will turned it on slowly, hoping it would deter Gideon for a few moments at least.

Frederick rolled his eyes and then frowned slightly after Will shortened his name this way. They did not agree for any nicknames, and especially not Fred. Ugh. He decided to let this one slip, though, and looked down at the files.

“I bet they’d love to come and hang out while they were alive and, y’know, existing,” he said and switched the pages around, looking for some names. “Okay, so, we have – oh, this one’s a young one. Abigail Hobbs. After her father died, Hannibal took care of her, more or less a father figure for the girl himself. –

– But then, after he got found out and the fbi got into the house, he slit her throat open. She died before anyone could tend to her.” Frederick shifted uncomfortably, feeling his eyes getting a little stingy. Wow, he was not going to tear up on camera, no way. Clearing his throat, he looked through the page. 

“Aaand the one I’d suggest to consider also is a man named Abel Gideon. We’ve heard about Gideon alright back in the days, with his own long set of murders. They tried to blame the Hannibal murders on him too but he escaped the hospital and wanted to take revenge, I guess. Didn’t work out well. Hanni got him. Cooked various parts of him for months before actually draining him of blood and finally ending the suffering. Fuck.”

He looked up at Will, eyebrow raised. “So, which one is it going to be? You are the one who actually believes they’re still here. I feel like it should be up to you to choose.” And he smiled just slightly, happy to have the burden of choice off the shoulders.

Will narrowed his eyes at Frederick as the buck was passed over to him. Touché, his expression communicated “Fine, I’ll make the choice.”

Thinking about the girl that Frederick mentioned made Will’s heart wrench and sent an undeniable shiver down his spine. He decided immediately that he didn’t particularly want to exploit her tragic death for the show, but he pretended to take a few seconds to think.

“I guess it makes sense for us to go with this Gideon character, considering that he has his own ominous backstory too.” Will was silently grateful that they were doing the majority of their filming in this bedroom rather than in the basement. Gideon would probably have been really mad down there.

Anyway, being upstairs didn’t change the fact that they were trying to summon the ghost of a murderer killed by a serial killer, so who knew what would happen? Beverly hit the lights and Will felt his pulse pick up, which he hoped wasn’t audible to the others.

“Abel Gideon, if you’re present with us, please give us a sign.”

Silence. Will gave it a few more moments – glad that in the darkness he couldn’t see whatever smug look Frederick was giving him from across the room – and then tried again. “Abel, are you here? Give us a sign.”

Silence again. Silence... then a faint scraping sound, a little that of a saw against wood, or perhaps a knife against... something else.

“Come on, I know I didn’t imagine that.”

Frederick made a long pause after what Graham said and just kind of looked at him with a ‘wow, and you wonder why your fans think you killed a man’ look on his face, and also a little bit of ‘I wanted to provide them with some joy but you yourself are doing a great job, congrats’. He had quite the expressions.

“Nah, I was thinking, maybe at some point he did want to get caught? Y’know, invited the head of the fbi for a dinner, bam! a leg ‘accidentally’ falls out off the fridge. And the guy is, like, looking at the paintings or something so Hannibal the cannibal just waits for a minute, but then the leg starts re-freezing so he sighs and puts it back.”

He was making fun of the killer just to ease up a little bit, it always worked when something stressed him out. But as soon as those words left his lips, a heavy weight landed on his shoulders, making Frederick feel like he was being watched with a warning look. He got rid of that thought very fast because, well, there was nobody else in the room besides him, Graham and Beverly.

“According to the notes, he had an affair with a – oh, come on, a psychology professor? And an fbi consultant. Good news he didn’t kill her as, at some point, she figured him out. Kind of. She’s happily married to another lady at the moment, far away from this mess. I approve.”

In the end, he was the gay icon. Not exactly out but also not denying it; Frederick knew that at some point he would have to make a statement. And, yeah, he was aware of how good of a representation that would be and also how happy and brave it could make some people watching him. He just – kinda wasn’t quite ready. Not yet.

“So you’re saying that maybe he literally waved a leg in their faces?” Will clarified, the smirk on his face stemming half actually from the jokes, and half because he knew Frederick was at least a little creeped out from the way he was trying to joke.

“That poor woman.” He sat down on the bed, panning across the room with his pocket camera and then landing decidedly on his co-host. “Although, I’ve got to say… I know they weren’t technically co-conspirators but I almost blame the FBI more than this Lecter guy, like… it’s stupendous levels of idiocy on their part.”

Only a couple of seconds later Will’s eyes widened in shock – that was mostly overdramatised but a tiny bit real too, as he stared into the main camera. “Wait, is that bad? I – maybe I shouldn’t say shit like that or they’ll set the next one onto me. Shut up Will.”

Yes, along with the supernatural, ghosts and aliens and the like, Will subscribed to a ton of conspiracy theories too. But those were currently far from his most immediate concern. After all, it was almost time to speak to the ghosts.

“So, Fred,” he called over, “while you’ve got the file, tell me who we’re going to be speaking to. Let’s hear about some of the specific victims and we can… see if any of them wanna come hang out.”

Putting the pocket camera down, Will reached over to the pile of equipment at Beverly’s feet to retrieve an audio recorder, turned it on and placed it carefully on the bed beside him. “Get ready to hit the lights Bev, we’re getting into the spooky shit.”

After Will confirmed that he, indeed, has taken that psychology course, Frederick smiled just slightly and shared a brief look with the camera. The Internet was going to love it. He very well knew how to play with the viewers. 

But then he wasn’t smiling anymore as an icy cold feeling hit him from head to toes, making goosebumps appear all over his body. Frederick swallowed and tried his best to keep a not bothered face expression, looking over at Graham after that question.

“The cold? Yeah, I did. Since we entered the room.” And then, shaking his head slightly as if saying ‘this guy’, he went back to looking through the notes Beverly gave them. “There was a whole fucking murder dungeon down in the basement, apparently. With the freezers, so he could keep the body parts he ate fresh. Well, yeah, I guess it makes sense to install some other freezers instead of keeping… like, human legs and organs in the kitchen. –

– Especially that a lot of people visited him. He was a pretty popular guy, that Hannibal. Throwing feasts and parties, and – wait. Feasts?” He looked up at the other man with an absolute image of terror on his face. “Oh my god. Ew. Ew.”

Beverly let them wrap the scene just there and picked up the camera. “Alright, boys, we will be heading to the master bedroom now. Leaving the basement for the ending scene, obviously. – It really is cold, isn’t it? God, I hope we won’t freeze during the night.”

They made their way upstairs and Will tried to distract himself from those – really strong – creepy vibes by actually looking around the house. And damn, it was a really nice house. Fucking freezing, but fancy as balls.

“Speaking of those feasts that you mentioned…“ Will turned when they reached the landing and deadpanned at the camera – ”Gross, by the way. I guess it’s that weird thing of – like, he did it… to show off?” he speculated. “Like, he wanted to get as ridiculously close as he could to being caught but… not.”

Will hesitated as they entered the master bedroom, the eerie atmosphere only amplified in there. They way that he saw it, if they kept talking then they might summon up any lingering spirits, so he would soon have proof. (And Frederick could suck it.)

“Also –“ Will continued, speaking freely, “did those people not know they were eating, like… not chicken, you know? Surely human meat tastes… different, really good different otherwise what’s the fucking point?”

“– I – I mean, uhh, not that I would know but, yeah, surely?”