Who ya gonna call? - Hermitcraft Phasmophobia AU

- Chapter 12 - The execution

It was the beginning of the day and Impulse had summoned the 3 to have a little chat before they went on the next hunt.

They were all a bit worried. They hadn't spoken to Impulse properly in a while amd were a scared he was just gonna tell them they weren't allowed to befriend the ghosts again.

But none the less, they got there on time and sat down, chatting to eachother in hushed voices about what Impulse might tell them.

They waited there about 15 minutes until Impulse stepped out of his office and walked over. The minute they saw him they went quiet.

Grian and Scar were obviously very tense, they felt they had ruined their friendship with him. Especially with trying to get him to forget about Joker.

Skizz was more relaxed, locking eyes with Impulse and giving him a supportive smile.

So, Impulse sat down, his eyes to the floor and hands clasped. He waited a moment before speaking.

"So, whats the plan?"

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Impulse had just sent the others back home after keeping them their for far too long. He didn't mean to... he just fell alseep after his chat.

He wandered around the place, looking around for something not even he knows.

The room was silent, the air was still and calmness was cast.

Everything looked the same, looking for something put of place didn't feel right.

The lights were dim and cold atmosphere crowded him.

A singular beep went off. so quick and quiet one might think they did not even hear it.

But yet it went again. And again.

It was coming from where the equipment was stored.

The beeps got louder, then quicker.

Then the crakle of the spirit box cut through.

Soon enough, every device turned on, detecting a ghost nearby.

The noise was deafening, there was no room to think. All he could muster up was turning everything off.

He opened the door and the noise got even louder without the muffling of the wood. He began to fumble with the loudest equipment first, turning it off and retuning it to its original place.

There was silence again, or so he thought. The once still air had a breeze flowing through it. Wrapping around his body and tickling the back of his neck.

All his hairs stood on end, the cold air bringing goosebumps to his skin. A familiar presence surrounded him. Faint whispers filtered through the silence. Nothing that could be understood, but it lead him somewhere.

And he followed, giving in to whatever lured him. It took him to a chair and that is where he sat. A bit confused until he heard it again.

It was whispering his name, he could hear every syllable as clear as glass. His body shook slightly as he curled into his chest.

His want to get up and leave was strong, but yet he couldn't bring his legs to lift him up from his seat and lead him out. So that is where he stayed. Listening to the whispers call his name for what felt like an eternity.

His name began to sound wrong, the repetition distorting the words and muddling his mind.

It continued, and continued and continued until he began to feel heavier. His body relaxed against his will. His head lulling and his eyes drooping.