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The night had been going perfectly. Wei Ying piled in the car with most of his favorite people (except for jie jie who had a “date” and Jiang Cheng who was coming straight from lacrosse practice and would meet them there). He let Huaisang call shotgun so he could squeeze into the back of Mian Mian’s Subaru with Wen Ning, Wen Qing, and Lan Zhan. Maybe he really was as shameless as his friends claimed but he also knew Lan Zhan would rather be squished between him and the door than anyone else and his best friend/hopeless crush just smelled so good, could anyone blame him? He was wearing a new dark red sweater that draped just so across his collarbones, tight jeans, and his stomping boots. It was his birthday and they were going to a haunted house.
Hell. Yeah.
Not like a real haunted house, mind you. They got enough of those in their cultivation exercises but one of those cheesy local places that promised liters of fake blood, killer cannibals, gnarly zombie makeup, and an over the top soundtrack.
They piled out of the car and made their way through a sprawling, nearly empty shopping mall. The few stores that still existed had closed hours ago, leaving just the faint whiff of soft pretzels lingering in the evening air. Which, if you asked Wei Ying, was way creepier than any deliberate Halloween attraction. There was something innately unsettling about large spaces that should be bustling left echoing and abandoned. Maybe someone could set up some kind of roving zombie game where performers chase you through the mall like a real life Dawn of the Dead? That would be bad ass.
They joined the line snaking its way through a lobby draped in fake cobwebs and hanging lanterns. Wei Ying helpfully pointed out all of the sliding panels and hidden doors performers could use to jump out to Lan Zhan who was doing an excellent job of hiding his nerves to anyone who wasn’t Wei Ying. When you spent as much time looking surreptitiously at Lan Zhan as Wei Ying did, you were bound to notice things like the way Lan Zhan’s shoulders went tight when he was nervous.
The front doors loomed when his phone pinged with a text from Jiang Cheng. Practice was running late, he’d wait in the lobby and meet them after. Wei Ying snorted his amusement, he bet he could bully Jiang Cheng into going through with him again if he played the birthday boy card.
Their group was in the next batch of people to be let in so they were right by the exit when Wen Chao and his cronies came strutting out, pausing to smirk derisively at Wei Ying.
“You’re going to piss your pants for sure, babies,” Wen Chao sneered, chuckling as Wang Lingjiao clutched his arm and shivered dramatically into his side.
“Chao-Chao was so brave,” she simpered. “You have a big mouth, Wei Wuxian but you’ll be begging for help in no time.”
“Oh please, look at this place,” Wei Ying said, rolling his eyes. “For starters, it’s in a mall. The scariest thing you can encounter in a mall is the terrible grinding machine of Capitalism.”
“Tell him, Wei Ying,” Huaisang added, eyes gleeful over the edge of his fan.
“It’s going to be just like every other commercial haunted house: some jump scares, a clown swinging around a bladeless chainsaw, half a dozen fog machines, maybe some creepy dolls if we’re lucky.” He swung around to share a cocky grin with his friends. “They’ll be lucky to get a peep out of us, right Lan Zhan?”
Lan Zhan blinked his pretty eyes and nodded calmly even though Wei Ying could tell he wasn’t really sure at all. “Mn.”
“Whatever, Wei Wuxian. I think there are a few new surprises this year.” Wen Chao led his jerk friends away just as the employee at the door ushered them forward into the first dimly lit corridor. “Have fun, children…” Wen Chao’s smug voice drifted after them. Wei Ying waved it away with a huff like he was brushing spiderwebs off his face.
“Can’t just let people have a good time, can he?” He flashed his friends a grin and took his rightful place at the front of the group. “Whatever, are we ready? Let’s go!”
They’d made their way down two twisty, turny hallways of the “mansion”, encountering one “dead” body springing up from a coffin in a corner, one sudden banging right next to their heads, and one airgun blast accompanied by maniacal laughter, all total standard and utterly delightful to Wei Ying. Lan Zhan had crowded close against his back immediately after the coffin guy and stuck close. He slipped a hand in Lan Zhan’s and tried not to smile too obviously when Lan Zhan clung back in response. Wei Ying should probably feel bad about subjecting him to this but he did give Lan Zhan plenty of outs on the evening! He could’ve met up with them after for ill- advised late night diner food! But Lan Zhan had stubbornly insisted on being there for all of the birthday festivities.
They’d just entered a larger room, the air thick with manufactured fog hovering over a winding path through a “graveyard” when all the lights went out.
“Huh,” came Wen Ning’s voice from somewhere behind him.
“I don’t remember this place having any blackout sections,” Mian Mian said.
“Yeah, all of the lights that were on in the hallway behind us are out too,” Wen Qing added.
Then the screaming started.
Like, a lot of screaming. Not ‘Oh, a fake vampire, I’m startled, this is scary and fun’ kind of screaming. More like ‘I am in fear for my mortal existence, pure instinctive terror’ screaming. From what Wei Ying could tell it was coming from all over the place.
“Well, that bodes,” Lan Zhan murmured.
That was when something shimmered into view on the far side of the room. It started as just a few wisps of red light but was quickly becoming larger and more defined. It seemed to be a very face twisted into a scowl and a mass of claws.
Wen Ning piped up from the rear of the group, hopefully, “Maybe it’s just… a really expensive projection?”
The thing honed in on the sound, sending a bolt of spiritual energy at them. The group split down the middle, jumping to either side just in time, letting the energy hit a fake gravestone behind them which promptly exploded in a cloud of styrofoam bits.
“That is no projection,” Lan Zhan said matter of factly.
Wei Ying grimaced in agreement, “Yeah, no”.
The sickly red glow being emitted by the spirit was just bright enough for Wei Ying to register Mian Mian’s raised eyebrow. “I have no factual basis for this but somehow I feel like this must be your fault, Wei Wuxian.”
“Me,” he squawked, “why always me, I had absolutely noth-”
Unless you counted that confrontation last week in the cafeteria where he laughed directly in Wen Chao’s stupid face declaring there was “no way on Earth Wen Chao could possibly find a haunted house scary enough to get to him even a little”. If one were to count that, then an argument might be able to be made that this could possibly be a little bit Wei Ying’s fault.
“Um…”
“And there it is,” Huaisang crowed triumphantly.
“Is this because you provoked my asshole cousin last week, Wei Wuxian,” Wen Qing demanded.
Lan Zhan reached out to squeeze Wei Ying’s elbow reassuringly. “Wei Ying was simply giving his opinion of Wen Chao’s skill level in judging successful recreational horror attractions.”
“Thanks for having my back, Lan Zhan.”
“Always, Wei Ying. Now arm yourself. I believe that is a Class 2 malevolent spirit.”
It certainly was. And it seemed like it had gotten fed up with waiting for them to finish speculating. The eerie crimson light now spread to encompass the entire far corner of the room and it was getting brighter, possibly feeding off of the panicked energy now tearing through the building like a tornado.
But they weren’t some of the most talented cultivators currently in training for nothing. They had weapons at the ready in a flash, literally in Lan Zhan’s case, Bichen shining like a pale blue beacon in the dark. Wei Ying had Suibian in one hand and a suppression talisman in the other and within minutes he, Lan Zhan, Mian Mian, and Wen Ning were advancing, creating a shrinking perimeter, backing the thing up into its corner.
Wen Qing hung back, shepherding regular patrons who were fleeing from unknown terrors deeper in the house, making a break for the exit as fast as they could.
Between the four of them it didn’t take long for their swordwork to sap enough of its strength for Wei Ying to hit it with a talisman trapping it in place. Lan Zhan swapped out Bichen for his guqin to play a peculiarly aggressive version of rest until the spirit gave in, dissipating in a dramatic whirl of red smoke.
Any haunted house would have loved to have something like that. Except in the case that the something in question was also trying to eat their customers. Which this definitely was.
With the immediate threat dispatched the room was quiet for the moment but soon they would have to move on and investigate the sounds of distress deeper in the building. Before that though, they needed a plan.
“Alright gang, huddle up!” Wei Ying activated a light talisman and waved his hands at his friends, ignoring some indulgent smiles and Wen Qing’s devastating eye roll and plowing ahead. “Wen Chao did seem overly pleased with himself but how did they do it? This place has been a run of the mill seasonal haunted house for years. It shouldn’t be actually haunted!”
They fell into thoughtful silence only occasionally punctuated by alarming banging sounds from distant rooms. If the house itself isn’t haunted, then something in the house must be. Wei Ying would eat his dizi if this mall was haunted by anything other than the picked over corpse of Spencer’s Gifts and the lingering stench of Axe body spray. So that means – Oh. Ooooh yeah, that might do it.
Wei Ying cleared his throat and suddenly found all eyes on him. “Unless…”
“Unless,” Wen Ning picked up the thread immediately, always instantly supportive of Wei Ying’s shenanigans.
“That’s never good,” Mian Mian sighed, more than familiar with how this usually went down.
Wei Ying gave them his best winning smile. “I’ve got a theory.”
“It could be bunnies?”
“Not helpful, Huaisang,” Wen Qing snapped. And if anyone starts singing I will physically bust out of the walls of this place like the reverse Kool-Aid man.”
“I’m sorry, Lan Wangji, I don’t actually think it’s bunnies. It’s dark but I can practically hear your withering stare.”
“Definitely not bunnies,” Wei Ying agreed. “Unless…”
“No, we’re not doing that again.”
“Right, right. So if you need a haunted house and the house isn’t haunted what do you do?”
Lan Zhan’s eyes widened, his face lighting up with sudden understanding. “You bring the haunting to the house.”
“Exactly!”
“Wen Chao brought in objects tied to restless spirits,” Wen Ning softly. “What a dick move.”
Wei Ying nodded grimly. “Yeah, they probably seeded them through the whole attraction.”
“So you’re saying we have to go on the world’s worst scavenger hunt,” Huaisang whined.
He knew he shouldn’t but sometimes he couldn’t help himself. “Worst? Or… best,” he tried with another grin.
In a surprising show of solidarity Wen Qing and Huaisang both rapped him over the head but Lan Zhan smoothed a gentle hand over his hair after so it was absolutely worth it.
He struck a heroic pose, sword in one hand, the other perched on his hip. “What do you say, friends, we make our way through the now very much actually haunted house and save Halloween? …And all of the poor folks trapped in here, of course.”
With a rousing cheer (at least from himself, Wen Ning, and Mian Mian, and quiet agreement from everyone else) they made their way onward into the dark depths of the much more sinister darkness.
He knew Lan Zhan was an exceptional cultivator and didn’t need anyone’s protection but he was giddy with some simmering concoction of nerves and fear and excitement and he twined his sword hand with Lan Zhan’s off hand, flashing a small, private smile. “Stay close, ok, Lan Zhan?”
Even in the dim light he could see Lan Zhan’s lovely amber eyes soften just a little in that way that only he ever seemed to notice. “I’m right here, Wei Ying.”
He would have plenty of time to think about the soft, lingering way Lan Zhan always seemed to say his name, the way it sounded so much better than when anyone else said it, later. After they had subdued who knows how many resentful dead. Then he’d definitely have earned it.
Lan Zhan located the brittle skull that had powered the ghost they eliminated, now rendered powerless and distressingly similar in appearance to a cheap decoration. He popped it into the quiankun pouch that Wen Ning had ready as Wei Ying workshopped a bit. “Spirit Halloween, now with 100% genuine spirits. Is that anything?”
The next hour was as fun as hunting down cursed items in what was essentially a densely packed themed junk shop could be which was to say, kind of fun actually. He would be the first to admit that he could be a bit of a thrill seeker and with a whole group of trusted cultivators at his back, the looming threat of actual danger only dimmed Wei Ying’s enthusiasm a little.
They picked through rooms decorated like funeral parlors (tracking down a cursed brooch), a haunted hospital that drew especially viscous commentary from Wen Qing, a cannibal staffed kitchen (they assumed given all the fake body parts, the performer playing the cannibal cook having long since fled), and a vampire’s lair. Huaisang had proven especially skilled at honing in on the real artifacts among the hollow plastic and paper mache props.
Luckily very few people had gotten hurt in the process. It seemed like the restless ghosts had kind of honed in on their spiritual energy as soon as they fought the first one in the graveyard and more or less left the normal people alone (other than scaring the crap out of them with their very presence of course). Wen Qing ended up treating a few minor injuries but they were able to send everyone out safely.
Wei Ying knew that there was one last big room to go, the grand finale as it were, before the long hallway that led people out right by the entrance. They changed the theme every year and he was curious what it would be this time. As they approached the heavy curtains that marked that last room he could feel the press of malevolent energy wafting out like heat, itchy against his skin.
His friends exchanged some wary looks.
“If I know Wen Chao, and unfortunately I do,” Wen Ning said solemnly, “he’ll have gotten something really nasty for the end.”
“Probably themed,” Wen Qing added.
Wei Ying squeezed Lan Zhan’s hand once before reluctantly letting go. They would need both hands for this. “Well, let’s see what the douchecanoe has in store for us, shall we?”
He swept the curtain aside with a flourish, stepping into a neon blacklight nightmare of stripes, looming geometric shapes, and unhinged calliope music.
“A creepy circus,” Huaisang wailed. “Come on!”
Even Mian Mian looked unnerved, edging closer to Wen Ning and keeping her sword tip up. “Is there such a thing as a non-creepy circus? I don’t think there is.”
The circus room was cavernous but they’d made the path through it winding and claustrophobic. The better to showcase their animatronics, he guessed. There were no fewer than three pop up clowns, with technicolor leers and nauseating cackles and they fell for every one of them, all of them jumping, a few of them making undignified shrieks.
They were what Wei Ying judged to be more than halfway through the room when the path opened up a little to reveal a final center ring tableau. It had probably been reserved for the attraction’s best performers, hamming it up with their craziest laughs and unsettling voices. He’d put money down that one of them had been wielding a chainsaw, probably the one that would chase patrons down the long hallway up to the exit.
The place was eerily empty now, motionless under the oppressive blanket of resentful energy. Even the music seemed to recede, a distant tinny jangling. They clustered together in the center of the room, instinctively turning their weapons outward to cover all the corners. Something caught Wei Ying’s eye and he looked up to study a slowly swinging trapeze, the only sign of movement.
Lan Zhan didn’t turn his gaze from where he was sweeping the shadowy corners of the room but he seemed to sense Wei Ying’s preoccupation. “Find something, Wei Ying?”
The more he studied it, the more unusual the motion of that empty trapeze seemed. Less regular than if it was being swung by a mechanism, it moved with intent. Almost as if someone –
“It’s above us!” He barely had time to yell and push Lan Zhan and Huaisang away before the ghost manifested and dropped right on them. They did they best to rally and turn the protective circle inwards, trapping it in the middle but they had scattered and the thing was big. It was every inch the horror fantasy: a huge hulking man, with rabid eyes and a painted grin streaked with gore. He was wielding what looked like a giant carving knife that Wei Ying could see was visibly trailing resentful energy.
“Don’t get cut by that knife, that’s my professional medic in training opinion,” Wen Qing yelped as she clocked the blade.
“Really, Wen Qing,” Huaisang griped, darting out of range and whipping talismans out of his sleeve. “You know usually I love getting skewered by giant knives but since you’re the expert, maybe I’ll give it a pass this time.”
Lan Zhan had spun around and was trying to keep the giant at bay by firing off volley after volley of chord assassination. It was only marginally effective. This thing was strong, class 3 at least, maybe 4 which was bad news for even seasoned cultivators.
Mian Mian and Wen Ning were daring enough to dance close enough to get a few jabs in, distracting him so Wei Ying could scrawl a wide ring of symbols on the floor with the grease pencil he pulled out of his pocket.
“Hang in there, we’re almost there.”
“Wei Ying!”
He whipped around to meet Lan Zhan’s panicked eyes a second before he felt air whoosh right above his head. Huaisang had thrown his fan, knocking the clown’s knife off of its path towards Wei Ying’s face. What the hell?! That was amazing! And that fan must have steel spines in it. Wei Ying filed that away for future reference.
“That was my favorite fan, Wei Ying!”
“Best birthday present ever, buddy! I appreciate you,” Wei Ying called back as his hands flew through the markings.
Wen Ning seemed to have found a real metal chain somewhere which he used to great effect, managing to catch the clown’s arm and whip his blows off course. “The knife is definitely the focus. It’s hella cursed, probably the guy’s actual weapon.”
Mian Mian grimaced, “You know this guy had at least a dozen people under his floorboards when he was alive.”
“Where did Wen Chao even find the favorite weapon of an actual killer clown anyway,” Huaisang cried, still flinging stunning talismans though he was clearly starting to tire.
“Ebay,” Wen Ning offered.
Lan Zhan watched Wei Ying scrawl the final character in his array and caught his eye to send him a tiny smirk. “Maybe Spirit Halloween?”
“Lan Zhan, that was a joke! You made a Spirit Halloween joke for me!”
Lan Zhan tossed off another devastating blast of energy, sending the clown stumbling right into the center of Wei Ying’s trap. He was perfect, or perfect for Wei Ying anyway. His favorite cultivation partner, his best friend, his person. He couldn’t hold himself back any longer, wheeling to face Lan Zhan with a tremulous smile.
“Lan Zhan, I have a confession. I didn’t just badger you into coming out tonight because it’s my birthday and I wanted you here, I pretty much always want you anywhere I am, but especially because I know horror movies and stuff like this make you nervous and I was hoping for a chance to show you how cool I am and maybe hold your hand.”
And then miracle of miracles, Lan Zhan, his favorite smiled back and reached out to touch his cheek. “I too have a confession, Wei Ying. I would go anywhere you asked me but I also agreed under the pretext of using the haunted house as an excuse to be close to you and maybe kiss you in a dark corner.”
“Ok, ok, we get it! We all know both of you have been completely stupid for each other since cultivation camp three summers ago! You can finish your big, dramatic revelations after we’ve dealt with the big, bad killer ghost clown, maybe,” Huaisang shrieked, startling both of them out of their matching dopey grins and into laughter.
“I guess I have to do everything around here,” Wen Qing griped and slammed both of her palms against the array on the floor, lighting it up crimson and gold. Wei Ying winked at Lan Zhan and crouched to add his own energy, silver and ruby flames dancing. The clown writhed, trapped in the center and screaming with teeth rattling resonance that sounded like nails on a chalkboard.
“It’s working,” Wei Ying shouted above the din. “Alright, hit him with everything you’ve got!”
Mian Mian, Lan Zhan, and Wen Ning squared up and on Mian Mian’s nod fired off a final volley of pure spiritual energy that blasted the clown to nothing, the knife clattering dramatically to the center of the ring, the last resentful energy curling off of it like smoke.
They all stared at it for a long breathless moment, not quite ready to dare crossing the boundary of the array and that’s when Jiang Cheng bust through the door with a chainsaw.
His brother came in blazing, face set in a snarl that matched the sound of the chainsaw in his hand, glowing violet and crackling like it was being powered by… lightning?
“Holy shit, Jiang Cheng, is that chainsaw running on lightning?!”
Jiang Cheng smirked back at Wei Ying. “What like you’re the only quirky genius in the family? There was some useless clown guy blubbering in the lobby holding it but no blade, see? So I figured why not spiritual energy.”
“Rad,” Huaisang breathed, drifting over to get a closer look.
Wen Qing tucked the single strand of her hair that had fallen out of place behind her ear and gave Jiang Cheng a look that heavily implied that he would be richly rewarded for the lightning chainsaw later in the form of sexual favors. Gross. Well, not gross for them of course, Wei Ying couldn’t believe his brother’s good fortune to be dating Wen Qing, he just never wanted to have to think about their sex life.
Mian Mian and Wen Ning secured the terrible knife after Lan Zhan had wrapped it in many many layers of cloth woven with special suppression talismans. And then Wei Ying let himself stop thinking about anything else at all that wasn’t the warm, strong line of Lan Zhan’s arm wrapped securely across his back, hand curling possessively over his hip.
There was a lot of nonsense when they finally made it out. They had to talk to the owners, give a cursory report to the older cultivators who had shown up a few minutes ago and promise to report first thing on Monday to give a complete account. They eyed Jiang Cheng’s chainsaw but wisely made no moves to try to take it from him.
Wei Ying floated out to the parking lot on a cloud of a successful, if accidental, night hunt and the exhilarating proximity of Lan Zhan, the faint citrus and sandalwood scent of him making Wei Ying dizzy in the best way.
They made it all the way back to the cars before Lan Zhan lost his seemingly endless patience and pressed Wei Ying gently against the rear passenger door, pinning him with that soft, bright look that took Wei Ying’s breath away every time. But this time he didn’t just look, he leaned down, closing the handful of centimeters that separated them and captured Wei Ying’s mouth in a soft but insistent kiss.
Wei Ying pressed right back, tilting his head into the kiss with a quiet helpless noise as Lan Zhan cupped his cheek in one of his big, elegant hands and thrilled at the feeling of Lan Zhan shaking ever so slightly against him. He should have known that like everything else, they were in this together.
After a shockingly tolerant amount of time spent kissing Jiang Cheng thumped his fist against the roof of the car by Wei Ying’s head and slid into the driver’s seat pointedly slamming the door shut.
Lan Zhan pulled back just enough to break the kiss but not out of Wei Ying’s embrace and Wei Ying couldn’t do anything but beam at him. The kiss felt like the perfect beginning of something amazing, like the natural continuation of everything that came before. He knew they would rejoin the group shortly but later they would come back to this quiet, shining bubble of just the two of them.
“Hey Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying said quietly. “Want to sleep over later?”
Lan Zhan’s lips twitched up into his version of a mischievous smile. “Maybe watch a scary movie?”
“You are my absolute favorite, you know that?”
He never got to find out if Lan Zhan knew, though he had his suspicions, because Jiang Cheng had finally come to the end of his rope and started laying on the horn, cracking Wei Ying up. He was amazed his brother had given them that long, must be special birthday dispensation.
So they would all head to their favorite 24-hour diner and recount the night’s adventures in glorious detail. Wei Ying would have pancakes and midnight bacon and a ridiculously large milkshake and then he and Lan Zhan would go home and pretend to watch some crappy horror movie but mostly make out on the basement couch like he’s been dying to for actual years. Happy birthday to him. Best Halloween.
Hell. Yeah.