YouTube One-Shots (Book 3)

I'm Only Trying to Help

Tumblr prompt: A spirit tries to guide the lost inhabitants out of the mansion and keep safe from a murderer but they keep screaming.

Note: This is a little angsty. I hope you enjoy it though!

Pairing: Mooii7y

Smitty creaked the door open and looked from side to side before fully stepping out of the room. He was sure he had lost the fucker that was running around here, chasing after him. He wasn't sure what this guy wanted from him, but he didn't want to find out any time soon. He just wanted to get out.

Only problem was, the house he was in was huge. He was one-hundred percent lost.

He walked down the hallway and looked into the rooms, seeing if there would be anything to possible help him get out.

As he was looking, he heard the wood of the floor creak, and it wasn't because of him. He gasped and went into one of the rooms, then hid in the closet. He kept the door cracked open a little, just in case.

Someone walked in, sighing out of frustration. It wasn't the same guy that had chased him, which was a bit of a relief, although Smitty didn't know his intentions.

The man ran a hand through his hair before he grabbed something and threw it at the wall. It smashed against the wall loudly, and made Smitty flinch. The man stared at the broken item before he sighed and sat down on the bed. "Why won't they let me help them?" He asked no one. "I just - I just want to help, and they scream when they see me and get themselves even more lost. If they didn't, maybe they'd be alive, but no, they think I'm the bad guy when they see what I am. God, being dead is a hassle. You can't talk to anyone."

He fell backwards onto the bed, sighing. Smitty didn't understand the man's rant, but he wanted to leave. He opened the door, and it creaked loudly. The man sat up and looked at him, and Smitty slammed the door shut, holding it closed. His heart was beating loudly. Shit, he wasn't supposed to see me.

He didn't hear any footsteps, which confused him. What did confuse him was the fact that he saw the man's arm go through the door. Smitty yelped and let go of it, stumbling backwards. The hand grabbed the door and opened it from the inside, and the man stood there with a concerned look on his face. "Hey, calm down, okay? I'm not here to hurt you."

Smitty felt that the man was sincere, although he was still confused on what had just happened. He stood up, still cautious. The man smiled. "Come on, we've got to get you out of here." He turned and began walking, beckoning Smitty for him to follow. Smitty scrambled after him.

"Who are you?" He began. He had so many questions on his mind that needed to be answered, and that was the first one out of his mouth.

The man turned around and smiled at him a little. "I'm Brock. You?"

"Uh, my name's-my name's Smitty."

"Alright, well, Smitty, if you follow me to the entrance you can get out of here in no time!"

"You know where the entrance is?"

"I've been here for maybe 20 something years, kid, I think I know this place like the back of my hand."

"Wait, are you serious?" He didn't look that old in Smitty's opinion.

"Yeah. Being dead kinda does that to you."

Wait, dead?

"Yeah, I'm dead, kid. A ghost. Sorry to disappoint."

Smitty jumped in surprise. "Did I say that out loud?"

"Yep."

"Oh."

Brock chuckled a little bit, and then stopped abruptly. His smile fell, turning into a look of seriousness. "Be quiet," he whispered. Smitty stopped, instantly becoming worried.

"Brock?"

"We need to go, now. Come on." He quickly ushered him down one set of stairs before they heard a crash from the floor above them, followed by a yell.

"Run!" Brock screamed, and both him and Smitty took off. They went down the last flight of stairs and into the room in front of the entrance. Brock pushed Smitty inside and closed the door, holding it closed. Soon there was someone banging at it and yelling at them to open it.

"What - what do I do, do-do I call the cops, or-"

"Smitty," Brock said, smiling sadly, "you can't call the cops on a dead man."

Smitty's eyes widened.

"Smitty, I want you to run as fast as you can, okay? Run far away from here, and don't you dare come back, alright?" Smitty nodded, and backed away and to the door. A blade went through the door, right next to Brock's head, and Smitty slammed the front door open and ran.

Brock ran up to the front door and shut it, locking it. The door he previously held shut slammed open, and Brock turned around to face him.

"Where is he?" The man growled at him. Brock grinned.

"Oh, he's long gone, Tyler. And he isn't coming back any time soon."

Tyler snarled and gripped the weapon in his hand. "You just don't know when to quit, do you?" He asked, walked up to him. Brock backed up until his back hit the door. "How many times do I have to teach you a lesson?" He held him against the door, and Brock gulped.

~~

The first thing Smitty did when he got home was go on his computer and search up anything that had happened in the area (he had recognized it from the street signs when he made it to the main road).

What he found was a load of missing persons reports, one of which was Brock's. Killer was never found. Even though Brock was dead, he hoped he was okay in that house.