𝒆𝒖𝒏𝒐𝒊𝒂. [five hargreeves 𝑥 reader]

𝐮 𝐧.

𝐈

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𝟑𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕

Over the past 3 years, Elliot Gussman had witnessed unsual occurences behind his apartment in Dallas. Over the course of said years, an electric blue light had appeared in the sky, before disappearing to reveal someone standing in the alley, whom had not been there previously. This paranormal activity had happened 5 times, with Elliot recording the dates and times of the phenomenons, as well as capturing a somewhat blurred photo of the arrivals.
Elliot's daughter, y/n, had been skeptical of her father's obsession with the unsual events, until the 6th arrival, which she was lucky enough to witness with her own eyes. However, this time, it was slightly different.

Rather than a large, blue light in the sky, there was a smaller flash at the end of the alleyway. A teenage boy, who looked to be around the same age as y/n, stumbled out. He looked dishevelled, with unkempt hair and a confused expression plastered across his face.
Upon arriving, he had began walking down the alley towards them, fixing his tie and looking behind him, almost as if he was scared of being followed. Y/n knew that feeling all too well.

The boy, rather unexpectedly, swivelled back around to look directly at the window that the pair was sat at. Elliot pushed his daughter aside and wrenched the curtains closed, but not before the boy had spotted them.

✮✮✮

𝟏𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕

"Believe me now?" Dad smirked after we had spotted the boy. I had to admit, whatever the hell just happened, it was certainly not normal. But he didn't have to know that I believed him.
"It was probably just some sort of..." I trailed off, trying to think of something to back me up. But to no avail, might I add.
Dad walked away to pour himself a cup of coffee, looking triumphant. God did I hate when he was right, especially about supernatural shit.

I settled myself on the couch, grabbing a book as a knock sounded on the side door. Footsteps approached as I heard the door open and faint voices talking. The door slammed shut before I heard Dad's yell and the sound of kitchen utensils rattling. I hurried into the kitchen to see the boy from the alley looking at Dad smugly, whilst he held a butter knife in defense, a look of horror evident on his face.

"How'd you do that?" He questioned, shocked. He was still holding the butter knife, not daring to take his eyes off of the boy.
"Hey, hey, what's going on?" I asked, startled at the sudden commotion. "How'd he do what?"
The boy looked between us both before answering, what I assumed to be, both our questions at once. "Don't really have time to explain."