DAY ONE

The world snapped back into focus just as quickly as it had disappeared. Ray lurched forward and gasped. Hell of a time to pass out, they thought. And then – where the fuck am I?

Decidedly not in front of their computer screen, that was for sure.

The house in front of them was old. Dilapidated, almost. The left side looked halfway through a repair job that had simply been abandoned. And although it wasn’t windy, one of the window shades flapped, almost as if the house was winking at them.

“This – this is the place you’re considering? Are you sure?” the man beside them said. He was a nondescript man with short, straight brown hair, a business suit, and a briefcase.

Ray looked down at themself. They suddenly felt very dizzy.

They weren’t wearing the polo shirt and sweatpants they had been just a minute ago. They were wearing a loose, unzipped hoodie with a graphic tee shirt and black shorts. A heavy backpack was slung over their shoulders. Their body felt too light, too small. And –

A wisp of newly green hair fell in front of their eyes.

Either they were having a very game-accurate dream, or they’d just been teleported into the body and life of Darin ‘Dare’ Heartsong from the first Haunted Hearts.

They were at the part of the script where Dare excitedly affirmed their purchase. Instead, Ray said, “Um.” Their voice was different, slightly lower with a strange warbling quality. Haunted Hearts wasn’t voice acted, but the voice did still strike them as distinctly Dare.

“Because we can move on if you want!” the man beside them – Dare’s realtor – said, with a hint of relief in his voice. “There’s a lovely block of condominiums just down the street –”

“No,” Ray said. “It’s – it’s fine.” Their consciousness seemed to be floating a few inches above their eyes. “It’s – I want – it’s good.”

Because Ray had remained quiet. The realtor had gone off-script, and the script was the one thing they still had to cling on to. The idea that they might know the future in this world was the only thing keeping them from spiraling, and if they lost that –

“W-well, okay!” the realtor stammered, looking at the house with a reverent sort of fear that his game sprite just hadn’t captured. He was scared. Even normal people could sense the presences in this house.

And Ray wasn’t a normal person. Not anymore.

Dare, in the game, had described their ability to detect the paranormal as something of a sixth sense, inherited from their parents and honed through rigorous training. And maybe it was because they’d been dealing with it their whole life, but they’d never described it as overwhelming.

Ray could feel that sixth sense now, reverberating through their whole body like a drumbeat on their ribcage.

“Let’s…” Ray took a deep breath. “Let’s… go in.”

“I really wouldn’t,” the realtor said, eyes anxiously flitting over to meet theirs. “They say it’s… cursed.”

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They’re right, Ray thought. Dare may not have believed in curses at the start of the game, but there was no other word for what was affecting this house. Not that they could do anything about it without Jackie’s help. Cursebreaking might be simple for Dare, but even with their instincts and muscle memory, Ray wouldn’t have any idea of where to begin, and Cursebreaking the house was a whole other ordeal. And Jackie… she was the killer. How on Earth was Ray going to convince her to help without killing her like Dare did?

“Okay,” Ray said. “We don’t have to go in. I’ll sign everything out here.”

The realtor breathed out a harsh sigh of relief. “Okay. I appreciate you not dragging me into this. Sign here.” He opened his briefcase and handed Ray a clipboard.

They had a brief moment of panic after their first signature – they hadn’t even thought about what they were going to write, and their own name was automatic. They looked back at what they had written –

Darin Heartsong, in Dare’s exact handwriting.

They finished signing the papers even as a chill ran through them.

“Okay,” the realtor said, quickly packing the papers back into his briefcase. “I have to go. Thank you so much for doing business with us.”

Ray gave him a timid wave as he raced back to his car and peeled out of the neighborhood. Then they turned back to the house.

They couldn’t think. They needed to rest.

None of their (Dare’s) things were moved in yet, but the house came pre-furnished. They knew Rose was in the bedroom, but there weren’t any ghosts in the living room, so Ray dragged the comforter from the bed down to the first floor. They curled up on the couch, holding the blanket around themself.

They were here, in the world of Haunted Hearts, living through the plot of the first game. They didn’t know why, or how, but… they were.

Their school, their family, their identity… all of that was gone.

Ray’s breaths started coming in faster, harsh and shallow. They pulled the comforter closer around themself and squeezed their eyes shut. It didn’t stop tears from escaping.

They weren’t Ray anymore. They were Dare. They were a shy, awkward, socially anxious loser in the body of an energetic, optimistic, unflappable ray of sunshine.

What were they going to do?

As their sobs slowly grew quieter and their breathing evened out, they knew.

It was Dare’s job to help the ghosts and get one of the True Endings. But Dare wasn’t here anymore. There was just Ray.

So… now Ray had to do it.

Ray took a deep breath and stood up.

It was time to introduce themself.

Maybe a house full of restless spirits wasn’t the best place for an emotional breakdown.

Dare curled up on the living room floor, humming quietly to themself, any sound to cover their soft whimpers and cries. The familiar lullaby wrapped around their heart and squeezed.

“Are… are you okay?”

“Go away, Sam,” Dare said into their arm.

Normally that would be enough to send them away. Instead, Dare felt the presence settle next to them. “I’m sorry…”

Dare took a deep breath. “You’ve got to stop saying you’re sorry.”

“I just… I think I kind of know… what you’re going through.”

“Really? You got a family that doesn’t love you?”

There was a brief silence. “Yeah,” Sam said quietly.

Dare looked up to see them crying, too.

“Shit, man.” Dare wiped their eyes and sat up to face them. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s… it doesn’t matter anymore. These…” Sam gave them a tiny smile, a tinge of grey rising to their skin. “These guys are my family now. And… I figure we’d all be happy if you were part of our family too… you know?”

Dare’s lower lip wobbled. “Fuck. You can’t do this to me. Just when I get it together…”

“I’m sorry!” Sam scooted back, shaking their head. “I’m… just forget it. Just –”

Dare tackled the empty space Sam occupied and fell to the ground.

“What…?” Sam asked, bewildered.

Dare huffed. “You’d be so much easier to hug if you weren’t a ghost. I’ve gotta get you a physical presence, stat.”

“Oh…” As Dare pushed themself out of Sam’s translucent body, they could see them smiling. “Yeah. That’d be good.”

Dare held up a hand. “Settle for an imaginary high-five?”

Sam grinned, blushing again. Their hands went fully through each other, and as they laughed together, Dare thought, maybe this is what family is. Not what I had before, but this now. Laughing and playing and… supporting.

I think I like it.

-Castouts by Ray Johnstone