Demons (MCYT x Phasmophobia Fanfic)

Don't Wanna Let You Down

Summary:
It's Martyn and Tango's first day of investigating a haunted location, tasked with scouting out the area and gauging the varying levels of activity to ensure the haunt is the correct address and to gather key information about the haunt, such as the name of the ghost and the location of the breaker. Unfortunately, the parts of their training they hoped wouldn't happen, happen, and the two are left in a precarious position.

Skizz would just like some closure.

[This instalment is brought to you by Febuwhump Day 28: "No... Not Like This"]

[Trigger Warnings]

The company was stretched thin, that much was clear. Investigators and scouts alike were constantly crossing the borders between the various regions of Topside, hunting, identifying, and exorcising ghosts. New hands were always welcome. However, trainees frequently dropped out after the false hunt portion of the program. Bravado disappeared when a simulation of an angry spirit prowled outside of the locker one was desperately holding shut. Those that stayed were wildly dedicated, but they were still not enough.

"So," Martyn said, glancing at the Netherborn slipping into the driver seat, "what made you get into the ghost hunting business?"

Tango shrugged, trying to play off the flash of grief that crossed his face. "It was Impulse first, then Skizz followed and roped me and Jokes in, and we didn't look back."

"And then there was the incident," Martyn said carefully as Tango pulled out of the rest stop onto the road.

"Yeah." Tango's ruby eyes were fixed on the road as he merged, looking over his shoulder to make sure it was safe. "Plug in the address, please," he requested, changing the subject. "And some music on top, too, if you can."

"I got it," Martyn responded, taking out his phone and copying the address from the company email into the navigation app. He connected the audio to their small sedan and started the directions, then scrolled through the available music stations. "Anything specific to play?"

"Nope."

"Cool." He hit 'play' on a random one – it promised electric, synthesised music – and swapped his phone with his travel mug. He took a slow sip of his tea, enjoying the soothing heat as the music station took over the atmosphere of the car.

Martyn was still drinking his tea when they merged onto the interregional freeway that would lead to Nether, so he finished it hastily and set the empty mug on the floor. He waited for Tango to finish accelerating before he squirmed out of his lime green sweatshirt, tossing it into the back seat. Underneath the warm garment, he was wearing a simple green t-shirt that was a few shades lighter than his sweatshirt.

"Good call," Tango commented. "There's only so much the AC will do for us in here."

"Figured," Martyn stated, rubbing his arm nervously. End was famous for its constant windswept chill, so this heat would be, at best, extremely uncomfortable. The company had paired him with Tango for the worst-case scenario: heat stroke. The Netherborn was already familiar with care and knew the best way to avoid the condition if it arose.

The familiar red glow of the Nether came into view as the sun sank toward the horizon behind them. Glowstone lamps swiftly replaced the electric lights, natural bioluminescence illuminating the freeway as Tango pulled into the exit that led to their hotel. The two put on gold caps, grabbed their duffel bags, and entered the lobby, briefly pausing to take in the crimson decor. Tango strode to the receptionist – a well-dressed piglin hybrid – and checked them in, conversing rapidly in Netherian.

"You never cleared up why or how you were hired by the company," Tango said when they reached their shared room. He tossed his bag on the desk as Martyn put his on top of the dresser next to the television. The human walked over to the thermostat and turned it down, causing cool air to sweep into the room from the vents. Having done that, he flopped on his back onto one of the twin-sized beds.