I don’t know. I’m bored so this was born. And frick frack you Tim for not answer my skype call :((((
Pairing : Pre slash Thominewt . I am so bad at slash …. Or this can be just simply friendship. Idk.
Based on a Newtmas prompt on tumblr but I like to add a touch of Minho <3 ~ And also inspired by American Horror Story.
Warning : Character is already death. You know who.
And Newt is a little bit OCD to fit into my plot.
Thanks for reading.
Two part ~
This is part 1 <3
-I heard that place is haunted you know.
Thomas suddenly speaks up from piles of clothes on the floor of their sharing apartment. Minho stares at the brunet for a tiny second before laughs mindlessly, unwrap another carton box to pack his clothes in. It is a mid July day and the weather is burning hot. They already left all the windows open but the heat is still suffocating at its best. And two college boys packing their stuffs to move are every every annoy by the weather.
- I don’t know Thomas. A haunted flat is still seems better than an apartment where you can hear your neighbors having sex at 3am.
The brunet boys bursts out laughing hysterically, hugs his belly while falling onto the messy floor. Minho chuckles, throws a pillow at his roommate’s face then turn back to his packing duty, this turn is their kitchen utensils. After a few minutes, Thomas’s laughing begins to die out, the boy slowly sit up straight back again to finish packing his clothes, still giggling from time to time.
- But really,Chuck lives in that area since he was born. The kid said that when he was like 4, there was a family lived there.
- Yeah sure. Haunted or not, I do not want to listen to our neighbors’ sexual intercourse anymore. And we already paid half of the place.
Minho replies, never stop his hands on his work. He puts the ” Kitchen” tag onto the box before seals it with tape and push it to a corner with other boxes with ” Thomas’s Bedroom”, ” MinHo’s Bedroom” and ” Living Room” ‘s tags. Slowly makes his way through the living room, Minho drops his butt on their very green couch, breaths tiredly. The silent settles into the messy living room, leave space for Thomas’s movement around the almost empty apartment ,gathering the last bit of their stuffs.
That afternoon, with the help with their groups of friends, including that kid Chuck that lives two block away from their new place, the two boys finally settle down into their new flat. It is a small two story flat with three bedroom, a bathroom and kitchen. Since it has three bedroom, they are planning to fix the unclaim bedroom to be Thomas’s workshop so he can do arts without leaving paints all over the house, according to Minho. All of their bedrooms locates at the 2nd floor, Minho’s with milk coffee color wallpaper is the first door, Thomas’s room is brightly lids with two white windows and beige wallpaper is the second and the empty bedroom is the last.
After most of their stuffs are in place and clothes are hung up in their closets, they order pizza and lazzily watching How I Met Your Mother on Netflix. Chuck is currently stuff a big bite of chees pizza into his mouth, Teresa half asleep with her coke in hand on a bright green armchair, Minho’s poking at his pizza with a plastic folk and Thomas suddenly remember of the haunted history of their new house.
- Hey Chuck. You said this place is haunted, right ?
- Dude. What ?
Teresa jerks awake from her slumber, her bright blue eyes sparkling with enthusiastic. Minho glares at him with a death image in his dark eyes and Thomas just laughs it off. Chuck, the poor kid, washes down the piece of pizza with a sip of coke and clear his throat which turn out to be a cough in the end. Which make everyone in the house burst out laughing.
- No stop guys. This is not cool at all.
- Okay Chuck… Okay… We’re joking alright ? Now tell us.
Thomas smiles brightly at the frowning kid, pads his right shoulder. But the little boy just shrug his shoulder then starts talking. Teresa is just generally too excited about the story.
” So okay, as I said, when I was around like 2 or 3 years old, there was definitely a family lived here, right in this place. “
“But there was no master bedroom and such…” – Teresa interrupted.
“Ah no, actually, Minho’s and my bedrooms used to be the nursery and the master bedroom combine together. They fixed the place so they can sale it easier.”- Thomas replies, picks up another piece of pepperoni pizza. Minho still remains silently from the start with a fixed look on his face, his arms folds tightly around his board chest.
” Well, yeah, I asked my mom a couple of days ago and she said she is not sure why they sale the house, the family I mean, or where are they now. But since then, this house has been sold for countless families but they all gone after a month or so, said that the place is haunted. Then the housing company fixed the house last year and you lovebirds are the newest owner of this place.” – Chuck says softly, a half scare look hang at the corner of his eyes.
” Is it me or this is so much like American Horror Story Chuck? ” – Teresa suddenly says sarcastically. Minho smirks a little bit then just quietly sips his coke and Thomas suddenly feel a cold feeling running down his spine.
” I know. But… “
” Yeah yeah. The next thing is a cute blonde boy jumps out of nowhere and that he is dead.” – Teresa smiles deadly at the little boy.” Anyway, haunted or not, it is late. I am heading home, you need a ride Charles ? “
” Yeah sure. Thanks ” – Chuck replies, a ting of sadness in the little kid’s voice. Thomas smiles at him sorrily, slowly head out to open the door for his friends while Minho starts to load the dishwasher up with their dirty cups and plates. After saying goodbye to Teresa and Chuck, Thomas heads down to their living room to see a very weird Minho sitting on their couch, the red cup with bold letter M is still in his hand, the sound of the dishwasher running softly at the background. Thomas worriedly gets near to his best friend, shaking his shoulder weakly.
- Hey man, what happened?
Minho shook his head quietly, sips another sip of coke from his cup, a worrying look fix on his face. Somehow, this scare Thomas a little bit. Sit down next to the Korean boy, he quietly studies his emotion. However, before Thomas has any chance to figure out what is happening to his best friend, Minho abruptly speaks up.
- You know Thomas. About Chuck’s story…
- Yeah. The kid watches too much American Horror…
- Teresa was right.
A freezing lightning of shock shoot through Thomas’s body. He feels every cells in his body turn cold and time seems to stop. His pupils widen and his hearts beat with urgent short beats. His hands suddenly feel so dam with sweat and his blood run cold. Minho let out a sigh, tighten his grip on the cup, laying his head back and look at the white ceiling. His voice warms and slow, sweet as chocolate drink of a winter night.
- He was there, in the empty bedroom. You three were out for Starbucks. I was planning to put your arts supplements in that room ,then I saw him. Blonde hair, big brown eyes. I know he was , well , you know, immediately because of his skin. Too pale to be living human. He was laying on the spare bed, curling up like a fetal. Crying I guess. His eyes were a little red and his face was wet. He freaked out immediately when I said hello to him and flew out of the door before I caught him.
Minho’s voice is sad, sad, sad. The hurtfulness in his words is heartbroken. Put a hand on his friend’s shoulder, Thomas gives it a soft squeeze as empathy. Minho turns his head to look a him and pulls out a soft smile.
- Hey, it’s okay. We can try to reach him tonight if you want. Spend a night in that spare bedroom.
Minho smiles softly, mumbles his word. Then he stands up to washes his cup and they both head up to change out of their dirty clothes. When Thomas gets out of his bedroom in his tee and sweatpants , Minho is already sitting on the carpeted hallway in front of the empty’s bedroom, hugging a pillow and blanket in his arms, his sad smile on his pale lips. Thomas smiles back at him, hugging his pillow and blanket closer to his chest, and Minho opens the wooden door.
It is just a normal bedroom with a big window in wooden frame above the bed and painted walls. There are paintings of trees, flowers, natures on the walls and a starry painting as ceiling. Whomever the previous owner of this room is, they must be a fairly well artist. And they spend so much time and effort on these tiny masterpiece on the royal blue walls. The bed is small with four poles and soft white satin curtains tugged neatly on one side of the bed by a light blue ribbon. The sheets are clean with little laces as decoration on the bed dress. A small chestnut colored bed stand is right next to the bed with a small lamp on it. Thomas doesn’t know what does he expect, but the feeling he has toward the bedroom is undable to understand. Struggling to find the right words, a sudden words interrupt his thinking, and it screams deathbed.
For the next hour , Minho and him sets down to sleep next to the bed, on the wooden floor. They put on a cover for warmth and lays there, words go unspoken. The watch on Thomas’s wrist announce 2:30 am when he hears the first noise. A squeek of the wooden floor , little steps moving closer to the door. He looks at Minho nervously, knowing that the other boy is already notice the change in environment . Squeezing his wet hands on his blanket, Thomas holds his breath when the bedroom door slowly opens. A sudden feeling of iciness cripes into his bones and run his nerves cold. A boy, teenager perhaps, cannot be more than 18 years old slowly steps into the room.
Minho was right. He is pale, too pale. His golden brown eyes are big but full of sadness. His lips pursed together, his right arms holding his left arm on the elbow. He seems small, too small. And scare. Why he is scare ? His golden locks hug his small face naturally and his black hodie holds his thin frame. He closes the door behind him with a small movement, then his gaze fixes on them. His eyes are sad and afraid. His arms clenches tighter into each other and he looks so small, so wounded. Like a trapped animal, waiting for wolfs to come and eat it alive.
Minho is the first one to move. He slowly and carefully sit up straight, carefull not to awe the boy, putting both of his hands in front of himself, in surrender position. Thomas slowly follow him nervously as the boy take a small step back, his fist clenches tight.
Minho cleans his throat, trying to find the right words to say, something soothing so the ghostly boy doesn’t freak out and runaway like he did the first time around. The boy looks at them with his gloomy big brown eyes, moving a step closer to their slumber party. He slowly untangle his arms then put them aside by his body. He slowly knelt down in front of them , to put them at the same height, before offer them his small pale hand. Thomas nervously takes that small soft hand in his dam one and surprise at how alive the other boy seems to be. Then Minho carefully hold the boy hand and gives it a soft squeeze. The blonde one seems to be surprise at first, jerks his hand back but immediately looks at Minho sorrily.
- Hey hey… It’s okay… I’m sorry.. Uhmm ?
The boy looks at Minho with an amazement expression on his face. Sitting legs cross on the floor in fron of them, the boy seems to be transparent in the moonlight outside the framed windows. Thomas suddenly wonder what happened to this boy in the past? What ended his life? The blonde one slowly opens his mouth and whispers something, forming a word. Newt.
- Uhm… so hello… Newt…
Newt’s lips form a small smile, his eyes sparkling with tings of happiness. Minho smiles at him sweetly, offer his hand to the blonde kid.
- I’m Minho … And here is my friend, Thomas ….
The ghost boy nods carefully, his blonde bang drops on his forehead.Thomas happily offer his hand, pushing all of his questions to the back of his head. Still holding Thomas’s hand on both his palms , Newt slowly opens his mouth again, this time his voice is a little bit louder, but not louder than the sound of the heater running softly at the background.
-Can I… Can I call you Tommy?
Thomas is shock, to be honest. He carefully nods, allows the British boy to called him as Tommy. He never gets call Tommy by anyone else but his mom for 21 years of his life, and here is this ghostly kid.Newt smiles, his small fingers caress Thomas’s palm fascinatingly. Next to him, Minho is looking at the Newt kid with a desirable look on his face.
Last night, after the sudden encounter Newt, they fell asleep with Newt holding their hands in his small ones, humming a lullaby softly. By the early afternoon when they woke up, he has not yet to be found, but on their kitchen counter, there were two bowl of Fruit Loops and a container of milk ready. Minho tried to called for him but he never appeared so they left him a thank you note on his bed in the royal blue room. In order to find out more about the house’s history, Thomas and Minho now in a local library, searching through the town’s history but there is no luck in finding anything about their place or any information about the boy. They search online but also, no luck. Groaning in frustration, Thomas angrily sips his double chocolate chip frappuchino. Minho chuckles mockingly, turns a page on his book.
- What are you boys trying to find?
An old lady dress in yellow sweater and black pants greets them happily. Her name tag show her as ” Paige”. Thomas smiles sweetly at her.
- Uhm.. We are trying to find some information about the house on Glade’s street. Number 7 Glade Street.
- Oh! That one ! I’m sure I can help. But may I ask why?
- Well… We know a friend that just bought the place and ready to move in.. so ..
- Poor child. It’s okay, let’s hope he or she can survive that place alright.
The old librarian smiles softly before disappear after tall a bookshelf, Minho and Thomas, no word spoken, exchange a worrying glance. After a couple of minute, Paige re appear with a big old dusty book on her hand. She put it on the table, open to the ” N ” section.
- So, well, number 7 Glade Street used to belong to the Newton’s family. They moved away almost ten years ago and countless of families moved in but no one stayed for long. The father of the family, William, he built the house by himself when he married his wife, Veronica, a wedding gift. I am a 68 years old woman and had been living in this area my whole life, and let me tell you boys, I have never seen a happier couple ever before.
The old lady’s voice is so full of affection, somehow, it makes Minho feels wary. Paige carefully turns pages after pages on her dusty photo book. She continue to talks while both boys quietly listen.
- I was there for their baby shower.They had a baby boy.
The way she used the word ” had” does not surprise them. They know who the baby was. And Minho glups worriedly. The old lady stops her the pages, pokes at a small photo with terrible quality. A family picture. The man must be William with brown hair and board shoulder, hugging his wife close while tiny and elegant Veronica holding a little baby with mops of platinum hair, smiling brightly at the camera.
- Oh poor child. The little boy name was Isaac but everyone called him Newt. He was so happy, so full of life.
Paige’s voice is hurt. Thomas not sure what should he do so he asks.
- What happened? Why they moved away?
- Poor family. When their child turned 14 , he got sick. Real sick. Newt had to quick school to stay at home, the kid was sad, so sad. He used to be so talkative and active, he never stayed at home . But he had to laid on his bed for the rest of his life. Veronica used to told me that she was afraid for his life, she was so scare. But somehow he got better a little bit, they even traveled to Europe for Newt’s 15 birthday but then, on his 16th birthday, the boy went to bed and never woke up again. Veronica could not accept the ugly fact that her poor child had passed away so they moved. I have never heard anything from them since then.
Minho and Thomas’s blood run cold. They knew Newt is dead, and after heard his story, they feel sorry for him. He was such an elegant child but passed away too soon. If he was alive, he would be a few year older than them, studying arts like Thomas maybe. Paige shows them some more photos of the family, she is a nice old lady, she lived in this small town for years so she knows everyone. Some of the photos are cut from school’s years book. The boy used to be in Cross Country like Thomas and Minho. He played Puck in a middle school’s Midsummer Night Dream. He drew beautifully. Why bad things always happen to good people? But something is still bugging Thomas, something he keeps wondering. Suddenly Minho speaks up.
- Uhm… Ms.Paige… We helped our friends to moved in yesterday.. Uhm.. there was this room with royal blue walls and..
- Oh.. Poor kid, that’s Newt room. He painted it himself. But Veronica, poor sweet Veronica, after Newt’s death, she re decorate it, she changed his bed, put away his closets and painting supplements , hid away his canvases . You saw his bed, right? William told me that was a deathbed. An old tradition of some sort. Something was wrong with Veronica after Newt’s passed away. Well, I don’t know why, my all families that moved in always left the place in horror, saying things about a haunted ghost. I don’t believe in a supernatural world, but you know, people have different sight.
They left the library with their bloody run cold and their palms sweaty. Minho keeps thinking about how sad Newt looks when he first saw him, crying on his deathbed. Thomas sips his coffee, his mind keeps wondering about the bed and all. Something was odd with the kid. Night is already dropping on their town, the winds get colder and streets are much more crowded. Parks his car in front of their house, Minho let out a sigh. They don’t know how to react with the permanent resident of the place nor how he will react if he know they know his story. In their lighten up kitchen, a small frames sits still on the counter, waiting with a small smile on his lips.
_______________ END PART 1 ______________