Chapter Text
Tommy didn't know what he was getting himself into when he stepped into the Raven Mansion in the middle of the night. Tubbo, one of his best friends, was walking beside him. Ranboo, The tallest of them, was behind Tommy. The ender hybrid had been shuddering the whole time. "This is a terrible idea. Let's leave before we get caught by someone." The taller fumbled over his words. A finger to his lips silenced him. Tommy had planned out their nightly trip a week prior. They just wanted to explore the creepy mansion.
“Relax, Boo. This is fun! Besides, the security guard’s a washed-up drunk who never shows up." The shorter explained. Ranboo’s gaze flicked between the shadows, unease etched into his face. “Yeah, right. And how do you even know that, Tubbo? You can never be sure.” Tubbo waved him off. “I’ve got my sources.”
The Raven Mansion was a creepy building nestled among trees in a small town called 'Oakley woods'. The trio were inhabitants of the town who lived in a small house they somehow had ownership over. Tommy was an orphan, and so was Tubbo. Ranboo had an uncle who was his only family. The said uncle paid for the trio's education and living expenses. Truly Kind hearted, wasn't he? But, somehow, he never had time to visit them. No one was bothered by that except for the ender-hybrid. But he didn't dwell too much on that.
The decrepit, dark mansion had worn-out marble tiles, the ground floor windows all boarded and the un-smashed first-floor panes. There was a musty and damp smell that permeated the air. Shredded curtains hung from the windows. A dark liquid dripped from ceilings onto the dusty marble floors. Dust and debris littered the floor.
Tommy scrunched up his nose at the smell, and the state of the building. But he couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at the size and grandeur of the building. Despite its decrepit state, the mansion still had an air of elegance and sophistication that was hard to ignore.
Bloody hell,” Tommy muttered. Yet, as he took in the grandeur of the high ceilings and ornate details, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe. “For a pile of rubbish, this place is kind of… fancy.” “It’s massive,” Tubbo agreed, kicking a loose piece of debris.
The abundance of cobwebs was nothing but an inconvenience. The thick, grey cobwebs hung from the ceiling like curtains, swaying gently in the phantom and non-existent breeze. Tommy had brought a stick with him. It was almost the same height as a walking cane. "Grandpa Innit? I didn't know you needed a walking stick." Tubbo mocked the blond.
Tommy rolled his eyes. "I didn't know you were dumb, Tubbs. It's my Lucky-prodding-stick." The blond boasted. "Yeah, Yeah, whatever you say, boss man."
The trio moved cautiously through the mansion, their footsteps echoing in the oppressive silence. Tommy led the way, his flashlight flickering occasionally. Each time it dimmed, Tubbo and Ranboo froze, their breath hitching. "Is that going to hold on for the whole night?" Tubbo spoke with doubt. "I put fresh batteries in this thing this morning!" The blond said exasperated.
Ranboo, ever the silent observer, let the two bicker as his eyes scanned the shadows ahead. The staircase caught his attention—its once-plush red carpet now faded and dust-ridden. He felt a chill sweep through the air, so cold it made his skin crawl. Maybe it was from a window? Turning toward a hallway, he hesitated, a gnawing unease taking root.
“Guys,” Ranboo began, his voice breaking the argument. “Can we just pick a room to crash in and explore tomorrow?" Tubbo perked up at the suggestion. “I mean, summoning a ghost could be fun.” "I do think we should do that, Boo. We could have come tomorrow if we weren't planning to do anything tonight." Tubbo coincided with Tommy.
"Fine. But we aren't doing a hex or any creepy stuff." "Of course, Boob boy." The blond's flashlight wasn't causing any problems now. The trio ventured around the mansion. They traversed the stairs and saw three hallways.
They walked towards the right for a few minutes. The mansion was eerily quiet. A sense of trepidation hung in the air. But that's what any might expect with an old abandoned building like this. There was a feeling of unease among the teens when the only sounds were the shuffling of their shoes and their breathing. The blond started tapping his stick louder as he walked, which helped a bit. But the feeling of something odd and uncomfortable loomed over their heads.
“Can you believe only four people lived here? I’d get lost trying to find the bathroom.” Ranboo shivered, his gaze darting toward the long hallways. “We’re already lost.”
"Why is this building endless? It was supposed to be a normal building. Why can't things be normal? I hate you both." The ender hybrid complained, breaking the silence. Tommy took a deep breath and let out a sigh. "You do know this building contains 200 rooms, don't you?" Tubbo asked matter-of-factly. "What!? 200 rooms. For a family of FOUR! It's ridiculous." Ranboo shook his head in disbelief. "The Raven family were a bunch of fucking tories." Tommy commented, earning a sound of agreement from the shorter.
The mahogany doors were a dark shade. Only the entrance of the mansion looked very old. The more they walk further, The lesser the building looks old. It is almost as if the hallways have had occupants walking them often.
"This feels odd, Tom. Can we pick a room already?" "That's what I said ear- "Yeah. Let's get in one of the rooms." Tommy cut off the taller one and chose a random room. He slowly pulls the door handle down, and a clicking sound echoes through the hallway. For a second, the trio had their breath held in. The oppressive silence was the only thing echoing in their ears.
The flickering flashlight cast eerie shadows on the walls, making them seem to move and writhe like living things. The hairs on the back of their necks stood on end as they pressed on, their hearts pounding in their chests. The blond held the flashlight into the room and saw a bedroom. It looked more like a study.
The trio eased and made their way in. The walls had a few portraits. "Look at that. These tories were from the Victorian era." Tubbo inspected the picture further and explained the clothes worn by the family that used to be there. "Of course, you would know all this, wouldn't you?"
"What can I say? I'm a man of many interests." "Sure. Anything you say, Tubbs." The taller's ear perked up. "You hear something?"
The ender hybrid shook his head hastily. But he was at unease, which didn't go unnoticed by the other two. "I think we should go sleep now."
Tommy nodded to the shorter. The sheets were dust-free. It looked like the bed had been slept on, which was odd since the old mansion hadn't had visitors or anyone living in it for at least 150 years.
"Odd." Tubbo seemed to have the same thought as the blond. The trio dismissed the clear red flags and made themselves comfortable on the king-size bed. Ranboo didn't fit.
"Goddamn it, I'm too tall." "At least we three could fit in a single bed with enough space for each of us." The shorter hummed in agreement with the blond. "It's so soft, too." Ranboo commented. "I bet there's feathers in the pillow. Like literal ones." "Can we check that?" A collective 'No' from Tubbo and Ranboo made Tommy drop the idea of ripping it open to check.
Tommy was in the middle since neither Tubbo nor Ranboo wanted anything except the side. The taller curled around Tommy. Ranboo always held Tommy or Tubbo while he slept. He said it helped him from getting any nightmares. His sleepwalking episodes had ceased after he had met the duo.
So, no one expected Ranboo to sleepwalk at 3 in the morning and leave the room. Tommy felt the absence of someone in his sleep and stirred in his sleep. He blinked the sleepy haze away and looked to the left to see Tubbo still there. When he turned his head to the right, realisation set in. “Ranboo?” he whispered, his voice thick with sleep. Sitting up, he noticed the door ajar. His heart sank. He peeked out of the door and squinted at the dark hallways.
Ranboo hadn't taken his flashlight either, which was very odd, if you consider that he was a very anxious person that gets startled easily.
“Toby, get up. Ranboo’s gone!”
Tubbo groaned, rubbing his eyes. “Is he sleepwalking again? I thought he stopped doing that years ago!” "Apparently not.”
"Do you hear that?" The sound of something heavy moving sounded in their ears for a second. "I did. I think it's from the basement." This mansion got a basement? Of course. It probably has a cellar. Tommy follows Tubbo's intuition, and they descend the stairs. Their flashlights flickered again.
The shorter found an old torch hanging from a holder on the cobbled walls. He took out some matches from his pockets. "Why do you have those matches??" The blond gawked at the matchbox, unblinking. "I'll explain it later. We got to find Boo first." Tubbo said as if Tommy had his priorities wrong. The blond nodded.
They walked towards the sounds of irregular footsteps. Then silence filled the tunnel-like hallways. The eerie silence was deafening. "Boo?" Tubbo called out as he took the lead from Tommy.
The glow from the torch illuminated the dark path as the shorter picked up his pace. Tommy didn't go along with him. "You check that way. I'll go this way." Tubbo looked back at the blonde. "Shut up and just come along. Splitting isn't an option for you, Tom." The blond agreed to the shorter, not wanting to provoke him. He liked to keep his life and be around Toby. He would never agree to claims of him being clingy. Never.
There was a strange sound that echoed through the hallways. A shift of something heavy, again. The sound was similar to the grinding of wood against the floor. Tommy focused on the sound emanating further down the tunnels.
Cold sweat broke from his neck and face. A drop of sweat slid down the smooth curves of his face, past the delicate peach fuzz on his cheeks. The fiery torch wasn't helpful. The warmth wasn't enough to make him sweat more but it wasn't hot enough to battle the chilly atmosphere of the tunnel.
Tubbo stopped in front of a dark entrance. Tommy didn't know why until he sprinted a bit to reach him. "Why are you standing still? You look like you've seen a ghost or something." Tommy's eyes dilated as terror took over his body and made him frozen like ice.
There were four coffins in the centre of the room. The coffins were facing one other as if in conversation. All were slightly slanted.
Against one of the coffins sat Ranboo, slumped and unconscious, his long frame folded awkwardly. The torchlight barely penetrated the suffocating blackness of the room, casting everything in an eerie half-light.
“Holy shit,” Tommy whispered, frozen in place.
Tubbo was the first to snap out of his shock. Grabbing Tommy’s wrist, he yanked him back to reality. “Don’t make a sound,” Tubbo hissed. “We grab Boo, and we’re leaving. Right. The. Fuck. Now.”vTommy nodded mutely, his throat too dry to speak.
Their steps were light as they reached for the sleeping teen. This room was far more terrifying than it looked.
Surely, Four innocent-looking coffins meant nothing, right? The dark surface of the coffin and the strange aura surrounding this place, made Tommy's dread increase tenfold. Any teenager could know what coffins meant. Either the dead or the damned rested in those.
The dead would mean a rotting smell, but the damned would confirm monsters were real. Tommy didn't like the latter. The undead they might have disturbed would come after them. His odds of survival seemed to dwindle every second he stayed in the mansion.
Tubbo squeezed the blond's hand, trying to ground him before he spiralled deeper into his personal nightmare. Ranboo was shook a bit by the shorter, and he began to move.
Tubbo crouched by Ranboo, giving him a gentle shake. The taller teen stirred, his heterochromatic eyes blinking open groggily. Tubbo clamped a hand over Ranboo’s mouth before he could speak and motioned for silence.
A few tugs and whispers later, the trio began their retreat, Ranboo stumbling along as Tubbo and Tommy supported him.
“What was I doing there?” Ranboo whispered hoarsely. “How did I end up—”
“Shut up,” Tubbo snapped, his voice sharp but hushed. “You sleepwalked. That’s all. Now keep moving.”
Tommy was right behind them. He twisted his neck to the side if he saw anything and saw nothing. The blond let out a sigh of relief, and the trio safely made their way to the first floor. (aka the ground floor or The floor which had the entrance to the mansion.)
"You both alright?" Tommy inquired. "I'm feeling okay." "I don't know what's going on." "Perfect. Let's leave."
The trio reached the entrance and opened the door. The morning rays of dawn seeped through the sloppily boarded windows.
“Finally,” Tommy said, a smile breaking across his face. “Fresh air. I missed freedom.”
Tubbo and Ranboo mimicked him, relief evident in their expressions.
“Thank God it’s Sunday,” Tubbo muttered. “Otherwise, I’d skip school just to sleep. I’m so fucking tired.”
Ranboo frowned, his confusion resurfacing. “Can someone please tell me what happened?”
“Later,” Tommy replied dismissively. “We need to get home first.”
And so, home they went. Tubbo filled Ranboo in on what had happened during their trip to the mansion. Ranboo listened quietly, his dual-colored eyes wide with disbelief. He hadn’t remembered much of the night himself—only brief flashes of the tunnels and the oppressive dark of the coffin room.
When they returned home, the three settled into their routine, but something about Ranboo seemed… off. He wore a bandage around his wrist, but no one said anything at first. It was subtle, almost like he didn’t want it to be noticed.
It wasn’t until the next day that Tommy finally asked. He found Ranboo sitting alone in the living room, fiddling with his fingers and staring into space. “Why are you wearing that?” Tommy asked, plopping down onto the couch beside him and gesturing at the bandage. Ranboo glanced at him briefly, his expression guarded. “It’s nothing, Tommy.” “Bullshit,” Tommy retorted, leaning closer. “You don’t wear bandages for nothing.”
Ranboo sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I think I got hurt the night we went to the mansion.” Tommy frowned. “Hurt? You didn’t tell us you got hurt.” His voice rose slightly, frustration creeping in.
The tone made Ranboo flinch, his tall frame shrinking in on itself. Seeing the reaction, Tommy softened immediately. “I’m sorry, mate. I didn’t mean to yell. But you should’ve told us! We’re your friends. We’re your family. You’ve got to stop keeping things from us.”
Ranboo hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Okay,” he said quietly.
He was 16, and so was Ranboo. But the latter was older by nine months. So they were in entirely different grades. Tubbo was 17. He seemed fine but looked incredible weary of everything, almost like he was sure something was about to happen. He eyed every exit as if he wanted to run any second. Ranboo had never been like this since his first day in school.
“Let me see it,” Tommy pressed. Reluctantly, Ranboo began unwrapping the bandage. Beneath it was a small gash, deeper than Tommy had expected. The edges were slightly red, though it seemed to be healing. Tommy frowned as he examined it. “That looks nasty. Does it hurt?” “Not really,” Ranboo mumbled, looking away. Soon, The material was around his wrist again.
The conversation ended there, but the unease lingered. Neither of them addressed the nagging questions that hung in the air: how Ranboo had gotten the injury, or why it felt so wrong. The following day, Tommy tried to research the mansion on the school computers. He scoured forums, archives, and news articles, but all he found were the same stories every local knew: tales of the Crafts, the Great Disappearance, and the haunted halls of Raven Mansion. Nothing explained what they had seen—or what had happened to Ranboo.
By evening, Tubbo was packing for his trip to another town for exams. He moved around the small house with purpose, carefully organizing his bag while Tommy and Ranboo watched from the doorway. “I know you’ve got this, Tubbs!” Tommy said, grinning. “You’ll smash it!”
“Thanks, Tom,” Tubbo replied, pulling him into a hug. Ranboo’s expression was subdued as he said, “You’ll do great, Tubbo. We’ll be here when you get back.” Tubbo smiled softly. “Thanks, Boo.” He pulled the ender hybrid into a hug as well before heading out the door.
He got on a bus and settled on a seat near a window. He gazed at the gloomy forest that surrounded his town. After these exams concluded, he would go to college somewhere. But he would return. He would always come back to the duo. They were his home. As the bus pulled away, Tubbo settled into a window seat. He gazed out at the passing trees, their branches casting long shadows in the fading light. The Raven Mansion’s roof appeared briefly above the treetops, its silhouette stark against the dusky sky. The sight sent a shiver down his spine.
Tubbo was reminded of the odd coffin room once again. What were the coffins containing inside of them? Why were there four? Wait. Weren't there four people in the pictures? Maybe It was their final resting place. The word 'final' didn't seem to fit, weirdly.
He closed his eyes and rested his head against the glass. He slipped into a peaceful slumber.
Somewhere, two teens argued about making Spaghetti for dinner.
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Tommy was bored out of his mind. He leaned against the doorway, watching Ranboo scribble diligently at his homework. “Hey, Boob Boy!” Ranboo looked up, his pen pausing mid-word. “Hey, Tommy.” “I’m going for a walk,” Tommy declared.
Ranboo sighed, already sensing where this was going. “Okay, but come home before it gets too dark.”
“Why?” Tommy asked, a smirk tugging at his lips. Ranboo raised an eyebrow, incredulous. “What do you mean, why? Tubbo would kill you if you stayed out too late.”
“He’s not here, bitch,” Tommy replied smugly, knowing full well the taller teen couldn’t do much to stop him.
“I’ll call him right now,” Ranboo threatened half-heartedly, holding up his phone. “You wouldn’t.”
“I wouldn’t,” Ranboo admitted, pinching the bridge of his nose in defeat with a dramatic sigh.
“Thought so.” Tommy grinned, grabbing his jacket. “Buh-bye, Boob Boy!” Ranboo waved weakly. “Just… please come home before it gets dark.” Tommy ignored the ender hybrid’s pleading tone and stepped outside.
The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of rain. Earlier, a light drizzle had fallen, leaving droplets clinging to the grass and leaves. Tommy zipped up his blue jacket against the cool breeze and shoved his hands into his pockets. His black jeans were worn at the knees, and his shoes had seen better days, but he didn’t care. They worked well enough for a walk.
As he walked deeper into the forest, the trees started to thin out, and he came across a clearing. Tommy navigated through the grassy path and sat down in his usual spot. Few wildflowers were present around him. They were a soft purple. He laid against the grassy floor. The sun shone down on the lush green grass. It created a beautiful contrast with the blue sky. Birds were chirping and flying while a gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the trees.
He gazed up at the sky, his blue eyes following the slow drift of clouds. Once upon a time, this had been one of his favorite pastimes—shaping the clouds into dragons, castles, or anything else his imagination conjured. But now? Now, it felt empty.
Without Tubbo beside him, the world felt less vibrant. The laughter they used to share, the endless chatter, and the silly games that once filled days like this—it all felt distant. Like a memory trapped behind a pane of glass. He closed his eyes reminiscently. A part of him wished Tubbo had stayed. Even though he understood why his friend had to leave, it didn’t make the ache any less sharp. Tubbo would come back. Tommy knew that. But it didn’t stop the days from feeling longer, the hours heavier.
He let out a breath and drifted off to sleep.
A pair of sharp brown eyes watched the sleeping figure from the edge of the clearing, their gaze calculating and curious. “I think this boy is the fledgling’s friend,” a soft voice murmured. The words drifted into the still air before falling silent.
Tommy stirred, his sleep broken by the faint crunch of footsteps approaching through the damp grass. His eyes snapped open, and he shot to his feet, scanning his surroundings. “Huh? Who’s there?” he called out, his voice edged with suspicion.
A tall figure stepped into view, emerging from the shadows of the trees. The man wore a trench coat draped casually over a yellow sweater, his pale skin contrasting sharply with his dark clothing. Golden jewelry glinted in the sunlight—a single emerald earring dangled from his left ear, paired with a golden chain and several ornate rings. His round, golden-rimmed glasses caught the light, framing sharp features and a faintly amused smile.
“Hello,” the man greeted simply.
Tommy narrowed his eyes, his stance tensing. “What do you want, bitch?”
The man raised an eyebrow, his smile faltering. “You’re being rather impolite and vulgar, child.”
Tommy scoffed, crossing his arms. “I’m not a child. I’m 16, and I’m the biggest man ever.”
The man chuckled softly, adjusting his glasses. “You’re very much a child.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.” Tommy glared at him, refusing to back down. “You still haven’t answered me, bitch boy.”
The man sighed, an air of exaggerated patience settling over him. “Ah, well, it doesn’t matter. I was simply passing by.” Tommy’s suspicion only deepened. “Fine. Leave. I’ll let you go this time, but next time, I won’t be so merciful.” The man’s laughter rang out suddenly, rich and boisterous, startling a nearby bird into flight. “You’re quite the peculiar teen,” he said, grinning.
“And you’re a creep. Who just approaches sleeping teenagers?” Tommy shot back. “I told you—I was passing by!”
“Still makes you a wrong’un.” “A… wrong’un?”
“Yep.”
“I like you,” the man said after a moment, his laughter subsiding into a chuckle. “What’s your name?” Tommy scowled, his guard snapping back up. “Why would I give you that?”
“I’ll give you mine,” the man offered smoothly. Tommy gave him a skeptical look, his expression scrunching up in disbelief. “You probably don’t have any friends if that’s how you go about introductions. That’s not how it works, mate.”
The man scoffed, brushing the remark off with a wave of his hand. “Fine. I’m Wilbur. Nice to meet you.” Tommy hesitated, then shrugged. “Call me Tommy.”
“Fine, Tommy,” Wilbur said, his voice lilting slightly as he spoke the name. The blond blinked. There was something oddly melodic about the way Wilbur said it, as if the syllables had been crafted for his voice alone.
Wilbur stepped closer, his boots barely making a sound against the grass. Tommy didn’t move. He refused to step back, standing his ground as he looked up at the taller man.
“So,” Wilbur began, his tone light but probing, “what are you doing out here all alone? Where are your parents or friends?” “I don’t have parents,” Tommy replied bluntly, the words slipping out before he could think.
Wilbur stilled, his gaze softening. For a moment, his sharp features seemed to melt into something warmer, gentler. “Oh. I’m sorry,” he said, his voice quieter now, touched with genuine sorrow. The look in his eyes made Tommy’s chest ache. It was rare for anyone to care about him, let alone a stranger. Except Niki and Big Q, People only ever pretended to care when they wanted something. No one cared without a motive. No one.
The soft light that bathed the clearing began to shift, shadows creeping longer across the grass. He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly aware of how late it was getting. “I’ve got to go now,” he said, his voice lighter than he felt. He glanced at Wilbur, who stood as still as the trees around him, the golden glow of the sunset casting a faint halo around his dark figure. “It was—alright meeting you, I guess.”
Wilbur’s lips curled into a faint smile, his sharp brown eyes softening just a little. “Alright,” he replied smoothly. “I hope you have a good night, Tommy. And I do hope we meet again soon.”
Tommy hesitated, then gave him a small, lopsided grin. “Bye, Bitch Boy.” Wilbur chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “See you later, Gremlin Child.”
Tommy scowled faintly, opening his mouth to retort, but stopped himself. He had places to be. The blond wanted to argue that he was, in fact, not a gremlin child. But he had to leave. He took his torch from his pockets and started treading out of the clearing he was in after waving the brunet goodbye.
Tommy furrowed his brows when the dysfunctional torch he carried didn't flicker. He hadn't put on new batteries at all. Yet it didn't flicker. Not even once. Maybe it’s just luck, he reasoned. Or maybe the batteries aren’t as bad as we thought.
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Wilbur’s gaze narrowed on the teen walking away, a smirk creeping across his face. "Interesting," he murmured, his voice darkening. "The fledgling seems to have found some intriguing company. I think I might want this one for myself." A sinister laugh escaped him as he turned toward the mansion.
As the brunet entered the estate, a murder of crows circled in the yard. He glanced around and was met by Kristen’s warm smile. "Welcome back, my songbird," she greeted, her voice full of affection. Nearby, Phil and Techno stood, watching with quiet interest.
"I know where your fledgling is, Techno. And I might have found my soon-to-be fledgling as well."
Laughter bellows in the dark mansion.