Solving the Unsolved

Road Trip To Annabelle

Buzzfeed had been as usual that morning, and neither Shane nor Ryan felt the need to break the foggy, and otherwise tired, atmosphere. Both the ghoul boys had woken up at annoyingly early hours of the day to catch the plane they would be taking to their next location. Ryan had looked almost like a zombie, his mug of coffee so limp in his hands Shane seemed ready to lunge and catch it when it would evidently fall out of Ryan's loose grip. But it never did. Shane had been told on Monday where they would be heading but it was now Saturday and he had, in the busy week in between, forgotten where they were flying out to.

"Connecticut." TJ had mumbled out after Shane had asked. With that, the team had got into their cars, gotten onto the plane, and after an uncomfortable flight, they made it to Monroe, Connecticut. Ryan, upbeat and shining with that excited gleam in his eyes, practically bounded out of the car. As his foot hit the dirt he felt every ounce of bravery and excitement leave him. Like the ground had sucked it out of him with a straw and thrown that straw into the ocean to try and kill a sea turtle or something. More or less, Ryan's natural paranoia immediately started to set in at this moment. He knew Shane. He knew Shane didn't believe in this stuff, but Annabelle had killed and Ryan did not want to get into a car accident on the way back to their motel.

Annabelle was a Raggedy Anne doll known for its inspiration of The Conjuring. Annabelle was said to be possessed by a demon, and this doll had quite a history of violent actions. Shane had joked, but the settling feelings in both their guts seemed to make any joking a tad bit awkward. Like a mutual sense of unease. Neither of the ghoul boys much liked it.

But they were alive, Ryan had thought as he lies sleepless in his single motel bed, Shane loud snoring almost completely drowned out by Ryan's thoughts. Water. He needed water. Walking into the small kitchen around the corner was a mistake to do in bare feet as the tiled floor was like ice on his soles. With a grimace, he pressed on. The water was refreshing and as Ryan went to leave the kitchen with another glass of water he felt a jolt and then,

KZZZZSSSSZHHHHHHH-- -

The sound of his glass breaking as it hit the last tile row and leaked into the carpet was not heard as his thoughts ran wild. The spirit box! That's the spirit box! Ryan's thoughts were jumbled but alert, as he rushed passed a startled and just as alert Shane. Ryan's eyes were like saucers as he ripped open their bag of equipment, his pupils hiding almost all the white in his eyes. The spirit box sputtered to a not as ear-bleeding white noise as Ryan pulled it from the bag of gear. His blown eyes met Shane's as he turned and sat down on the bed beside him. As the white noise quieted to a soft buzz Ryan took the chance to examine the switches and plugs on the small box. Nothing was plugged into it and the power switch still faced the offside.

At first, both men were about to write it off as a technical malfunction and maybe ask for money from Buzzfeed to get a new one, but then it kicked back on at top volume. Ryan dropped the box to the floor with a mechanical thunk as he quickly reached up to grip his ringing ears. He just barely was able to hear Shane grunt in pain beside him as his hands clasped around his ears as well. Both could hear the way the box switched radio stations catching tones of country, pop, and alternative before the box stopped on a certain frequency. "Dance With The Devil" played its chorus out. The song was moody, but as the music and beat played on, Benjamin Burnley did not sing his lyrics, instead stating a quick, "Hello ghoul boys." The tone of his voice was sultry but with an underlying sarcasm and disgust at the nickname.

The song's music was like background noise to Shane and Ryan as they tried to grasp what was happening. But the voice spoke again, still Ben Burnley.

"I wish to make a deal with you boys. You see, I've been... looking for someone. Someone important, and I think you two would come in handy with finding her." The voice spoke in a singsong way.

"If you're looking for someone you should go to the police." the phrase came out without much thought and Ryan's voice wavered with uncertainty and hesitance. If they both weren't shocked at the strange phenomena happening before their very eyes Ryan knew Shane would have teased him relentlessly for acting so weak. But this was very different from anything that had happened to them. Ryan felt his breathing start to sputter unnaturally as he looked up at Shane. He wished Shane wasn't as scared as he was. He needed the comfort of his friend's calm attitude to this stuff. The look on Ryan's face seemed to be enough for Shane to figure that out.

An awkward cough and "Who might we, uh... be talking to, exactly?" Shane had spoken. He was almost proud that he stuttered only once, though the fearful grab in his chest never subsided.

"I am called many things," the box spoke, "Lucifer. Satan. The Devil. But I doubt that matters much. I have a task for you two, one of catastrophic proportions. I need you both to find the demon Lilith and exorcise her. I would do it myself but... well, y'know. In exchange, I will give you real proof of the supernatural and help you solve some of those 'cold-cases' you humans are too dumb to wrap your heads around. Times a tickin', boys. Better get on that."

And with that, the spirit box shut completely off leaving Shane and Ryan in the silent darkness of the motel room. Oh boy.