#if you’re getting come home nell haunting of hill house vibes…good!!!

[chancelloramidala]

Catastrophize ► Luke Crain

Chapter Three.

( TW: death, blood, drug abuse, gore, *skeptical* suicide attempt & self harm, poison, mental health )

Vincent saw Theo’s Jeep up ahead and rushed to park his shitty rental beside it. He quickly got out of the car and went towards the Jeep, pressing his face against it to see if by any chance, Luke was asleep at the wheel or in the backseat. But sadly, the Jeep was empty with no sign of Luke.

The man let out a frustrated sigh and slammed his hand against the hood of the car. Luke was here, at Hill House. The most haunted house in America where his mother and twin sister had supposedly killed themselves in. Vincent ran a hand through his unruly curls and turned his head towards the gothic mansion, vines and decay surrounding the once beautiful home.

Millions of thoughts swirled in his mind, but most importantly, Luke. He didn’t care if Luke had told him to never set foot inside of Hill House. Luke was in trouble, something told him that, and all if Luke’s in trouble, any kind of logic was out the window.

Vincent hurriedly pushed through the gates and ran towards the house. As he got closer, he noted how the lights inside were on, and how the porch lights were flickering not once, but twice. This seemed vaguely familiar to Vincent, but he couldn’t recall from what, and at the moment, he didn’t care.

He didn’t even realize he entered Hill House until he felt cold air rush around him. The hairs on his arms and back of his neck rose as a shiver ran down his spine, and carefully glanced around the foyer that reeked of gasoline.

The House looked rotted, literally. The walls were gray, yet held together by what seemed like a string and had long thin and thick vines growing from within. The ground were littered with overgrown vines as the dim glow of lights shined. Vincent didn’t like the vibes of the House, knowing that he had to find Luke and fast.

“Luke?” he called out into the still crisp air and slowly started to walk around, turning left and down the hall. “Where are you, buddy?”

Once he entered the next room, everything felt different for one main reason: Julia was sitting on the floor and playing with her dolls.

Vincent was flabbergasted, furrowing his brows together as he carefully walked towards his daughter. “Her-Hermosa?”

“Papá, you’re here!” Julia smiled brightly at her father before turning her head to someone sat behind her. “Dad, Papá is back from work.”

Work? Vincent looked down at his clothes and saw that he wore red scrubs. Then his eyes went wide for a moment. Dad? He looked at Julia and then behind her to see that it was Luke.

This Luke looked healthy, no scratches or bruises. It was odd, not that being healthy was a bad thing, but it was... odd. “Vince,” Luke smiled happily. But there was something off about how his lips were curled, like, it wasn’t right. “How was work?”

“Good, you know, the usual.” random words spilled from Vincent’s lips. A part of him didn’t even know what he was talking about while the other half was omniscient.

“Great,” Luke grinned at him before rising from his spot to meet Vincent half way to help take off his jacket. “Oh, by the way your sister is joining us for dinner tonight,”

“Frida...?” Vincent whispered the name under his breath. At the thought of his sister, his mind went fuzzy, memories he couldn’t quite remember flashing before his eyes.

There was a knock on the door.

Luke chuckled softly. “Speak of the devil herself.” As he went to go to the door, Vincent stopped him by putting his hand on his arm. “Wait, let me.”

“Alright, babe. I’ll get Julia to freshen up for dinner.” Luke then left Vincent to stare at the door with sweaty palms.

Vincent reached towards the door handle, his lips pressing into a thin line. But before he could even touch it, the door itself opened... only to reveal a pale, blue skinned and bruised Frida. Vincent instantly jumped back, shocked to see this sight only to have Frida seem unfazed and enter the home with a needle in both of her arms.

“Look at what I become, big brother.” Frida smiled devilishly to remove the needles from her arms and stab them into Vincent. “Your worst nightmare come to life.”

Vincent shrieked, his breathing quickening as his heart started to beat rapidly against his chest. His body then harshly collided against something rough as he felt the needles dig into his chest. Frida’s haunting smile, that was too wide and bright for his own liking hovered over him. Julia and Luke slowly walked over, needles attached into their arms as well as they stared at Vincent.

“Aren’t you having fun, Papá?” Julia asked him with pale blue skin as white foam started to pour from her lips. “Doesn’t matter, I don’t want you here, but I can’t help that we’re just so hungry.”

Her father collapsed to the ground, gasping in horror at the sight before him. This was terrible, no, absolutely horrific. Vincent fucking hates this. His limbs started to feel heavy, unable to move at all. Luke just stared as well, another haunting smile similar to Frida’s on his lips and knelt down beside Vincent, white foam beginning to fall from his mouth.

“You’re scared, aren’t you?” Luke whispered into his ear. “Good,”

Not only did his chest hurt, but his forearms did too. It felt like something other than the needles were dragging down his wrists in several horizontal lines, and fuck, did they hurt. Vincent couldn’t tell what was causing this pain, but it was unbearable, and all he could do was stare up at Julia, Luke, and Frida.

“Vincent,” a new calm, yet familiar voice called out.

He tried to turn his head and looked up from Julia, Luke, and Frida to see Nell’s standing behind him. She reached out for him, her hand delicately inviting him to peace within the chaos. No matter how much it hurt to lift his arm, Vincent was able to grab Nell’s hand.

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.

Vincent woke up with a gasp, instinctively grabbing his chest as he sat up rigidly. He blinked for a moment, trying to regain his breathlessness and looked around the room he was in. It looked rotten, with moldy black walls and a single rectangular window and a red door on the other side.As he searched the room, a sudden pang of pain pooled to his wrists. That’s when Vincent saw it, the jagged slashes on his own wrists, and by the bloodied car keys beside him, it looked like he inflicted this on himself.

Vincent scanned his wrists, seeing that blood was gushing from one wrist, his right one, and that’s where it hurt more due to the deeper two lines. But his left wrist, was only one line and what looked to be the beginning of a second line. He worked quick and cautiously, carefully tearing his own shirt as he wrapped it around his wrists to stop the bleeding. It didn’t do much, but it was enough.

After he finished aiding himself, his dark eyes finally saw Luke’s lifeless form beside him, and the fact that he was fucking foaming at the mouth.

“Fuck-” a multitude of swears spilled past Vincent’s lips as he knelt beside Luke, and ripped the needle out of his arm. It didn’t look like heroin because it was black and there was a bottle of rat poison beside Luke.

Vincent took the needle out of Luke’s arm and gently cradled his face as he checked for both a pulse and signs that he was breathing. His wrists ached as he did so, but he had to. Both were weak, and fuck, Vincent never felt more anxiety race through his veins. Luke’s lips were turning blue, along with his finger tips and nails.

“Luke, hey buddy, Luke,” he softly patted Luke’s cheek with his finger tips, only to be met with no response. “C’mon, man,” he whispered as he gently patted his cheek again.

Even after reading everything on what to do on a drug overdose, Vincent wasn’t prepared for someone to ingest rat poison. He may be a doctor, but he was a fucking eye doctor, and with the state of Luke’s body, his eyes were the last thing to be bothered with. Vincent ignored the pain from his wrists and started to do chest compression on Luke in an effort to kick start his body, wiping the bloodied foam from his lips as he kept doing so.

He tried to breathe life back into Luke, but with each push, Vincent saw that his vision was beginning to blur. He blinked rapidly, not wanting the fatigue to get to him, but with the amount of blood loss, he couldn’t do much.

And as Vincent started to lose consciousness, he swore he saw the red door open and Steve on the other side.

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When Steve woke in the Red Room, he was busy trying to get Luke to wake up and keep Vincent’s from bleeding out. It was strenuous task for one person to do, from doing chest compressions on one to tightening his belt one another’s wrists. He was glad when Shirley woke up, so he wouldn’t be alone in sharing the burden of trying to keep Luke and Vincent alive on his own.

Somehow, miraculously, Vincent’s eyes finally fluttered open to the relief of Shirley, who was working on Luke, while Steve was holding his wrists down in such a fierce manner, Vincent swore his forearm was going to fall off.

“Thank fuck,” Steve sighed out.

“Shit,” Vincent groaned as he glanced down at his arms before snapping his head to Luke’s direction. “Luke-”

“He won’t wake up,” Shirley heaved as he tried to sit up, only to be pushed back down by Steve.

Vincent glared at him, annoyance fester through his depleting veins as past grievences started to fill his mind. “I need to-”

Steve firmly shook his head. “Listen, I just got you to wake up, I don’t need you to pass out on us.”

“But-” Vincent frowned and started to feel the ache in his wrists again. “Fine,” then he slumped back down onto his back and flexed his fingers. “Did I see Theo over there?”

“Yeah,” Steve nodded and then lifted his hands from Vincent’s wrists. “So the bleeding stopped, but we should really get you and Luke to a hospital.”

Vincent hummed. “That would be preferable,” he then turned his head again to look at Luke, and carefully outstretched his hand to carefully grab the other man’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “But I’m awake, Luke isn’t. All three of us need to alternate between helping him. I can’t do chest compressions, but I can unblock his airways.”

“Is that really wise--?”

“Do you really want Luke to die on us?”

This was not the time, nor the place for bickering, so, wordlessly, Shirley helped Vincent sit up. She then added another piece of her own shirt around his wrists. She muttered about how it was stupid for him to try and help in his current state, but Vincent ignored it by flashing her a toothy smile. When Theo woke, Shirley and Vincent continued to help Luke whilst Theo and Steve tried to get the door open.

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