The house on Brookside Drive was two stories tall.

Everyone-- man, woman, and child-- had heard the legends. An old gardener called Old Man Suga had lived in the place his whole life and kept it looking tame. 

Then he disappeared suddenly one day in February. No one had ever seen him since, and there were rumours that his ghost hung around the house, protecting it from intruders. Hoseok didn't believe the stories, of course, but he didn't think it was a particularly good idea to put them to the test.

Despite the fact that no one had set foot inside the building for more than five minutes in twenty years, it stood as tall and proud as the day it had been abandoned. A cracking, overgrown cobbled path surrounded by waist-high, yellowish-brown weeds and grass lead to the front door, which was closed as tightly as the top of a can of pop. 

Hoseok stood outside the rusted-out gate, which hung open forlornly, staring up into the dark windows of the building framed by moth-eaten curtains, a hole growing in the pit of his stomach. The peaked roof was framed against the cloud-strewn night sky, glaring down at Hoseok as he averted his eyes to the faint glow of the moon behind the clouds.

"C'mon, Hobi," said Jungkook, walking backwards up to the gate and twirling the flashlights he carried around so violently that Hoseok was almost afraid he'd drop them. "Are you a chicken or what?"

"I'm not a chicken," snapped Hoseok. "I just don't much wanna die."

"Aw, he's scared, bless his little heart," said Jungkook in a ridiculous falsetto. "Should I call his momma or what?"

"I hate you, Jungkook," Hoseok grumbled, following his friend up the worn-out old path and towards the house.

"I know you do," said Jungkook with a laugh. "That's what makes doing this so fun!"

Hoseok grumbled unintelligibly and grabbed the door handle. It squeaked loudly as he turned it, and he jumped, his heart leaping into his throat.

Jungkook laughed. "You are a chicken."

"Am not."

"Are to."

"Am not."

"Are to."

"Am--"

Jungkook opened the door. It creaked softly as the hinges that hadn't moved in years were forced to swing, and cold air wafted out, carrying a faint, sour smell.

"Jungkook--" breathed Hoseok.

"C'mon," said Jungkook. "I dare you."

"How long?"

"Midnight. That's it. Promise."

Hoseok took a deep breath and looked back up at the sky. Night had fallen hours ago. It had to be... what, nine p.m. by now? That made three hours until midnight. He could make it three hours. Three hours in this cold, smelly, rotten, haunted old house.

Letting his breath hiss out between his teeth, Hoseok stepped across the threshold. Jungkook grinned and followed, closing the door behind with another soft creak. The inside of the house was nearly pitch-black, and Jungkook passed Hoseok one of the flashlights, turning the one he still carried on and shining it around the room. Those white furniture-protecting tarps were draped over everything, and the carpet crumbled beneath Jungkook's feet as he padded softly across it, Hoseok at his heels. 

The first room looked like it used to be a sitting room of some sort; there was a mantlepiece with a dust-coated bust of some famous old man resting on it that seemed to glare at Hoseok. He shuddered and looked away towards the sofa, chairs, and coffee table that were stacked in a corner, covered in tarps and layers of dust. A single closed door stood in every wall but one, where there was a closed and shuttered window in the door's place. There were a couple of blankets and chip packets strewn across the floor from other ill-fated attempts to spend the night.

"Kookie, look," said Hoseok, tapping his friend on the shoulder and pointing to the blankets. "I'm not sure--"

The floor creaked to Hoseok's right. Hoseok jumped nearly a foot in the air as he turned towards the source of the noise, a soft squeal escaping him. Jungkook clapped a hand to Hoseok's mouth, whispering, "Shut up, scaredy-cat." Then he let go of Hoseok and walked towards the source of the noise.

"What was that?" Hoseok hissed.

"I dunno," said Jungkook. "It sounded like it came from there." He pointed to the door in the direction the sound had come from, then started walking towards that door.

"Are you sure we should go towards the creepy noises?" asked Hoseok.

"I'm going," said Jungkook. "You can either stay here alone or come with. It's up to you." And he walked up to the door, pulled it open, and stepped through, leaving Hoseok alone with the bust and his thoughts. Hoseok looked over towards the stone figure, and it glared back. A stone settled firmly into the hole that had been carved in Hoseok's stomach.

"Fine," he breathed, hurrying after Jungkook. The room behind the door was a small kitchen that would have been cozy if it weren't for the dust and cobwebs. Hoseok followed Jungkook's trail of footprints in the dust to see his friend standing in the open pantry, his arms folded and his brow furrowed.

"What--" asked Hoseok, walking around the door to stand beside his friend. Then he saw the writing scribbled in tiny black letters that covered each of the empty shelves of the pantry: RUN RUN RUN RUN RUN on and on and on until it stopped looking like a word and started to look like an insane beast.

"Um," said Hoseok. "Jungkook. Maybe we should, um--"

"We're not leaving," said Jungkook. "I don't care how scared you are, Hobi, we're staying here. Got it?"

"Here as in right in front of the pantry, or here as in the whole house?" asked Hoseok. He cleared his throat slightly. "Because, um, if you don't mind, I think it might be a good idea to, um, to go back to, um, to-- to the living room?"

"I'm gonna go explore more," said Jungkook.

"Listen, I feel like Old Man Suga--"

"Old Man Suga? Really? You believe that stupid story?" asked Jungkook loudly, turning to stare with wide eyes at Hoseok. His voice echoed around the deserted kitchen.

"No, of course not," said Hoseok quickly, holding out his hands in a vain attempt to quiet Jungkook, "but I'm just saying that it might not be a good idea to test our luck."

"Nothing bad's happened to us so far," said Jungkook, shrugging. "Just some creepy writing and weird noises. C'mon, let's go. I wanna see where the hall leads."

"Jungkook--" Hoseok began. But Jungkook had already started off down the hall that lead out of the kitchen. The rock in his stomach getting heavier by the second, Hoseok followed.

He was blinking while it happened. Hoseok had been trying so hard not to blink, but it hurt to keep his eyes open for so long, and they were beginning to burn and water and blur his vision, so he blinked just as Jungkook squealed in his ear.

"What the hell, man?" hissed Hoseok, jumping a foot in the air and rubbing his eyes.

"I just... I just... something... ran across... end of the hall... I..." Jungkook took a deep breath and smoothed his hair back. "Nothing. It's fine. Just got a bit--"

"Scared?" asked Hoseok, smirking and shining his flashlight in his friend's face.

"Surprised," Jungkook corrected, swatting Hoseok's flashlight away and squinting.

"You were scared."

"Was not."

"You're a chicken, too."

"Shut your mouth, Hobi, if you know what's good for ya."

"Chicken."

"Nuh-uh!"

"Totally."

"Not."

Hoseok had just opened his mouth to respond when there was a soft groan from the end of the hall. He froze, his heart hammering in his ears. The faint, sour smell wafted towards the pair on a cold breeze.

"What--" breathed Hoseok.

"Run." The faint, whispery, hoarse voice echoed through the dead silence of the house. "Run. Run. Run. Run. Run. Run. R--"