#cliffhanger ending for the imaginary fic b/c I'm at a crossroads in my daydreaming about this jdkaljgklsdjkglds

[sparrowmoth]

I keep daydreaming about a fic where poltergeist activity starts up at Hell Hall after Carlos breaks through the barrier. Just little things that add credence to rumours of the place being haunted, except it's not just rumours anymore. The cupboards slam open and shut at night, Cruella's cigarettes burn too hot and turn to ash in her hands, knives fly out the drawer and narrowly miss Jasper's head, Carlos wakes up with scratches and bruises that his mother didn't inflict (he assures the others over and over—it's not getting worse, just... stranger).

Things happen outside the house, too. Maleficent starts berating Mal in public and her robes start to smoke, then set ablaze; she turns her fury on someone in the crowd behind her, screeching at the nerve of them while Mal makes her escape. Jafar goes to raise a hand to Jay and a TV falls off a top shelf and knocks him out cold; Jay doesn't so much as check his pulse before leaving the junk shop. Evil Queen is smiling in that condescending way, assessing Evie with a look; she clicks her tongue and opens her mouth to say something cruel when suddenly a ruler flies past her throat, leaving a thin line of blood that begins to trickle down, threatening to stain her white-collared gown.

Evie's the first to notice the pattern. These things that happen... it's only ever when Carlos is present. But why? He has no magic. And it's not a trick, she's sure. He couldn't have planned it. More than that, he never shows emotion about these kind of things. He looks so... calm.

She doesn't mention it, though it stays on the back of her mind.

And then they go to Auradon.

Things escalate so quickly.

Evie and Mal are accused of hexing and cursing, and well, some of the... incidents might have had something to do with them (not that anyone can prove it), but what about the shower in the boys' locker room scalding a guy who'd been giving Jay a hard time? What about those who'd seen a locker door slam open, breaking someone's nose? Someone who had, not moments earlier, made a tasteless comment about Cruella. Carlos had heard it. He'd been meant to. But students around had sworn, despite how strange it was, no one was near that locker when it happened. Carlos, for his part, had been as surprised as anyone to hear the sudden shriek of pain and the gushing blood.

Never mind that Evie and Mal were on the other side of campus with airtight alibis, they were still the ones suspected, because who else?

Oh, but Evie wouldn't say anything, even then.

She wasn't certain yet, and even if her theory was true, the thought that Carlos would blame himself for something out of his control...

Things continue to escalate. In Goodness class, Fairy Godmother seems to lose control of the chalk. She's writing so hard, it sounds like nails on the chalkboard. Her smile is tight when she finally gives up and drops the chalk. Then, King Beast makes an appearance at a school assembly and barely makes it past "hello" at the mic when he starts to fidget with his crown. "It's..." He grunts and seems to try to pull it off, but it doesn't budge. After a muttered exchange, Belle tries to help him remove the crown. "It's too tight," is the last thing heard before he knocks the mic with his elbow and the feedback shrieks. The student body erupts into chaos as they watch the king collapse.

On a field trip to the museum, everyone begins to sweat as they enter the Hall of Villains. Nothing to stop their tour guide's fifty mile ramble about Auradon's dark history. That is, until the wax figures begin to melt. They are ushered out just as display cases begin to shatter.

Evie notices Carlos doesn't look as calm. He looks angry. Or at least, he did. When she glanced him before it happened. After that, it was just the same as always—he looked startled, confused, even afraid.

He's the one who tells her that night. He's noticed the pattern, too. But he doesn't know what it means. He doesn't have magic. And it doesn't make sense, from a scientific perspective, but...

"I think I'm bad luck," he confesses like a shameful secret.