Chapter Text
The clouds overcast the sky as I pull off of the expressway onto a rural road. The trees swing with the wind and rain drops begin falling onto my windshield. The road turns into more dirt than asphalt the further I drive. The trees begin to clear and the large field my new temporary home sits on, comes into view. It’s stunning. Aunt Mito said she loved coming here as a kid. I really miss her, but I’m only supposed to be here for six months and then I’ll be right back. I’m only here for one job anyway, I’m sure I’ll be done in three. I’ve been in the photography business for a few years now, all I have to do is find some interesting areas in the woods around here and take a few pictures. Looking at some of the pictures they sent me, it looks pretty ordinary but if they’re willing to pay me almost 300 grand to create one portfolio, then there must be something around here worth capturing. I’ve been paid more for simpler things but I guess it’ll be worth it. It’ll be a pain sifting through thousands of pictures trying to find the perfect 8 or 12. But finding jobs has been harder than usual lately, I really need the money. Lighting flashes in the distance up by the mountains and thunder rumbles through the ground, reminding me I need to hurry before it begins pouring.
I speed down the dirt road and then down the unnecessarily long driveway. Now that I’m closer I have a better view of the house. It’s huge compared to Aunt Mito and Grandma’s back on Whale Island. I stare for a few moments in amazement. Thunder rumbles through the ground again startling me. I jump out and rush to the trunk to grab one of my suitcases. When I reach the top of the stairs I trip over something and my face meets the old, moldy, door mat that’s probably been here since grandma was a kid. I sit up slowly and massage the side of my face I fell on, looking to see what the hell I tripped on. There’s a small, beat up, wet, cardboard box lying in front of me. It has a card tied to the top of it with red ribbon. I lean forward and untie it, hesitating before reading what’s in bold black ink.
Dear, New Neighbor
I’m not sure if you’ve heard of me, you probably haven’t but my name is Killua Zoldyck. I’m sorry if writing this seems awkward or makes you uncomfortable in any way but I wanted to introduce myself and make myself known so as to not scare you if you happen to see me in the field. I heard that you were part of the Freecss family but I never received much more information other than that. My family, the Zoldycks and your family knew each other many years ago. I’m the son of Silva Zoldyck, I’ve been living here on my own for a while. Two years to be exact. My mother informed me that you would be coming sometime soon for a business trip or something of that nature and wanted me to get to know you since I don’t know many people. I live directly across the field from you in the small, blue house. If you do see me don’t be afraid to say hello or even stop by. Again sorry for bothering you.
Sincerely, Killua Zoldyck
I frown at the card for a minute before shrugging it off and picking up the small cardboard box. I rush to open the door and throw my suitcase in the foyer and set the box behind the door. I rush to the car grabbing all my bags before running upstairs to take a hot shower. Whoever this Killua person is was right. It is pretty creepy. I’ve never heard of old family friends around here, much less anyone living on the same piece of land. From what Mito tells me, Grandpa was a really isolated person, he didn’t like making friends and was a total introvert. What they're saying doesn’t make any sense…. but they seemed really nice and I don’t want to end up talking to myself over the next few months…
I shake my head and force myself to shove all those thoughts away, trying to figure all this out on the first day won’t help me at all. I take a look around and admire how beautiful the bathroom is. It’s old of course but whoever designed it really knew what they were doing…
After roughly thirty minutes of looking off into space and standing under the scalding hot water my skin grows numb and I climb out. I dry myself off, throw my robe on, grab the flashlight I set on the sink and walk back downstairs to grab one of my suitcases to look for sleeping clothes. As I’m ruffling through the suitcase struggling to hold the flashlight while doing so, I have the urge to look up. The cardboard box I had set behind the door earlier is gone. My search for clothes stops and I begin examining the area around where I had left it. I look all around the first floor, in corners, on shelves, anywhere I might have moved it but to no avail. Feeling slightly creeped out I walk back to the foyer, being careful bending over in my robe, shoving all the clothes sprawled out on the floor back into the suitcase. I rush up the stairs with the large bag dragging behind me. I walk quickly down the hall past the bathroom and into the bedroom I find the least creepy before locking the door behind me. I drop the suitcase down next to the door. Of course only now would I remember I don't have any blankets.
I would just forget about it but it’s below 30 degrees and the carpet is almost 20 years old and crunchy. Not the best bed or pillow. Not to mention the blow up mattress I packed specifically to avoid this, is all the way out in my car. I really don’t want to go out there until I find that damn box, especially not when it’s this dark. I mentally curse to myself and slowly unlock the bedroom door. I turn my flashlight on and point it down the hallway. Why in hell does the power have to be turned on tomorrow and not tonight? I don’t see anything unusual or suspicious so I descend the stairs keeping my eyes and ears alert. I open all my suitcases looking for the one that contains my comforters. Out of curiosity I flash the light in the direction of the door checking to see if a burglar or a serial killer happens to be standing there, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. But the only thing there is the small cardboard box that went missing just minutes ago and has returned to its previous position behind the door. Before I can even stand up to take a closer look, a loud thud erupts from behind the staircase where the back of the house is located.
Howling wind and thunder flood my ears. I step into the kitchen to the left of the foyer. An open window comes into view through the doorway leading into the dining room. Something compels me to walk it, I stare out into the tall, overgrown grass that was beginning to decay at the ends from the harsh, freezing weather. I stand there sweating and shivering, partially because of the cold and partially because of the unbearable dread I feel at this moment. Anticipating something awful. Like sitting at the top of a roller coaster before it tips over and drops 200 feet. My eyes dilate when a small flash of white light flickers in the distance before the wilted grass begins to move violently. I don’t have enough time to close the window so I turn and bolt the other direction. I look behind me to see if I’m being chased and there it is, a dark figure jumping through the window. Terrified, I lose my balance and collide with the island in the kitchen. Falling to the ground clenching my hip.
BANG!
I gasp, choking on lint and dust. I flinch at the sudden light pouring into my eyes and abruptly stand up. My vision blurs before clearing. I scan my surroundings quickly while trying to regulate my breathing. Gray walls. Off white carpet. Rays of sunlight through white blinds. I listen to the silence. Distant buzzing in my ears. I open the door and step out into the all too familiar hallway. I was in the room across from the one I had been staying in last night. The one with the dusty purple walls and the small bunny stickers on the closet. I take a peek inside but my suitcase isn’t there. I cautiously walk to the top of the stairs. All my suitcases are exactly how I left them when I first came into the house. Closed and standing up right. Not open lying on the floor with clothes lying everywhere. This isn’t right. I also notice the cursed box is where I left it. Though it was a little out of place. It’s closer to the door than it originally was and slightly turned. When I get to the bottom of the stairs the sight of the kitchen triggers my memory. I open my robe and check my hip for any cuts or bruises. There’s nothing. Along with the pain it disappeared. My neck is a little sore though, maybe a tad bit stiff.
“Fuck…” I curse to myself, gripping my hair.
I took a shower, I know that much. I could smell my soap and cologne in the bathroom, along with the feeling of hot humid air when I walked past. I still have my robe on too. I take all my suitcases upstairs and put them in a completely different room. I pull out a green flannel and black ripped jeans. I’m too tired and entirely not in the mood to put my hair up in it’s usual spiky style so I let it lay flat and just comb through it with my fingers. I make my way to the kitchen and open the new fridge that was installed a couple months ago along with the new stove and oven. Only to find that my previously purchased groceries are not there. I fight the urge to scream at the top of my lungs and just give up as I sprint full force out the front door to my car barefoot. I open the door of the backseat and spot my now ruined week’s worth of food just sitting there. Mocking me. I spent all of my money for the next week on those groceries. The only non-refrigerated food I bought can only be eaten in combination with other things. Stupid. One of the most stupid things I have probably ever done. I only have 3 choices now. Eat rotten food. Starve. Or beg the creepy neighbor who sent me the very creepy, cursed, nightmare inducing (if that was even nightmare) box, for food. All are equally embarrassing, but I know the latter is my only choice if I don’t want to get sick and die.
“You are such a dumbass Gon Freecss, it’s unbelievable.” I mutter to myself.
Living on the side of an isolated mountain isn’t as peaceful or tranquil as I had imagined. Nor does it give me time to think about what I want to do with my life, the second main reason I came here in the first place.
I stomp back inside and shove my black converse on biting the inside of my cheek. I walk to the backdoor ignoring the enormous wave of anxiety that crashes over me when I see the window in my supposed dream. I know it wasn't a dream, most likely the person who came in and knocked me out is the same person I’m about to beg for food. He’ll probably poison anything he gives me or straight up say no. I’d say no too. God I’ve screwed myself to the max this time. I lazily open the backdoor and begin my walk through the harrowing field. He’ll probably be some old man with a long ass beard. I wish I could call Mito even though I know there’s nothing she can do to help me. But the cell reception out here is obviously the worst on the planet. What if he’s a serial killer who planned this out? What if they’re a she? The more I think about the possibilities the more I want to turn around and sprint back. Embarrassed, aggravated, and cold I pick up the pace and decide to get it over with as soon as possible. I stop at the end of the field where the blue house can be seen clearly. The house wasn’t small by any means. In Fact it’s significantly larger than the one I’m staying in. But I like my house better of course. It reminds me of my family. It’s where my grandfather last lived.
Since there’s a large marron fence separating the front and the back I’m forced to knock on the back door. Double embarrassing. I stand at the back door with my arms crossed trying to preserve heat. I contemplate whether I should knock or run away while I can. While I’m debating, the door opens without my noticing.
“...Can I help you?” the man asks.
“Oh SHiT,” I scream, startled. “Sorry! Sorry sorry…”
A six foot tall, lean, pale, white haired man with the deepest blue eyes I’ve ever seen stands before me. I look like a wimpy teenager compared to him. He raises his eyebrow in confusion.
“Um...I’m Gon, Gon Freecss. Your new neighbor over,” I explain turning to point at my house across the field. “there.” “I’m kind of in a difficult situation...I really need your help.”
His face relaxes and then lifts in realization.
“Oh, your name’s Gon. Huh… Yeah I guess you got the letter I sent you.” he says after a moment's pause.
He smirks at me. To be honest I never once questioned my sexuality but that smirk definitely opened the topic up for discussion. I can feel my face heating up and a shudder running through me. His smirk grows wider and he stands up straighter making him easily an inch or two taller.
“Come in…” he says, holding the door open for me.
I hesitate for a second but decide to come in. I haven’t eaten in hours and I feel like my stomach is about to explode. I hold my hands under my armpits to try and keep warm. It almost seems colder inside his home than outside. As I’m looking around at his laundry room which is apparently the room that leads out to his backyard, I smell some kind of spice in the air like cinnamon or nutmeg and then I hear large footsteps.
“So...what did you say your ‘difficult situation’ was?” he asks, standing in the doorframe of the laundry room looking back at me.
“Oh, right. Well…I kind of left my groceries outside last night and now their all rotten and I had a really scary nightmare and I haven’t eaten since last afternoon.” I blurt out, instantly regretting it because of how childish I sound.
I can’t tell for sure, it is darker in this area of the house for some reason but I swear there was a flash of panic across his face. Which almost instantly confirmed all the suspicions in my head. I want to leave so bad. I just got myself trapped in a stalker’s house over some food.
“Oh...um...I’m making some food for myself. I’m preparing Thanksgiving dinner for tomorrow even though it’s just me.” he says, his previous facial expression gone, completely replaced by a slightly solemn look.
I completely forgot about Thanksgiving, I can’t even call Aunt Mito and tell her Happy Thanksgiving but she has Grandma. They’ll probably celebrate together. I feel so guilty so I do yet another stupid thing that will most likely lead me further down the road of danger and more problems.
“...Well... I’m free.” I blurt out while I follow him to his kitchen.
I want to punch myself in the face so bad but before I can hit, pinch or slap myself he responds.
“Really?” he asks, his voice dropping yet another octave.
“Y-yeah…” I agree.