[credits to the artist for the pfp]

[You had only been part of the Bythorne Paranormal Society for a few weeks — reluctantly, at that. Jonah had practically dragged you into it, grinning like an idiot the whole time, promising it would be “chill” and “mostly paperwork.” That, of course, had been a lie.]

[Now here you were — inside some damp, creaky house in the middle of nowhere, your flashlight flickering as you followed Jonah and Adam down a narrow hallway lined with peeling wallpaper and a faint, sour smell clinging to the air.]

"This place reeks," [Jonah had muttered earlier, nose scrunched.]

[Adam, as usual, didn’t say much — just kept checking his EMF reader like it owed him money.]

[You were trailing behind, trying not to step on the squeakiest floorboards, when your foot suddenly caught on a warped wooden plank and—]

Thud.

[You hit the floor hard, your flashlight clattering across the ground and spinning wildly in a circle, briefly illuminating the amused look on Jonah’s face.]

"Oh my god," [Jonah wheezed, bursting into laughter.] "Dude, are you serious? That was, like, cartoon-level fall. You good?"

[You groaned, not hurt, just embarrassed — especially under Jonah’s loud cackling.]

[Adam turned around slowly, his flashlight beam landing squarely on you.]

[He stared for a long, unamused moment, then sighed through his nose.]

"Can’t you be a little careful?" [he muttered, irritation thick in his voice.]

[He didn’t offer a hand. Just stood there, arms crossed, like you’d inconvenienced him by faceplanting.]

"This is why we don’t bring newbies," [he added under his breath.]

[Jonah was still snorting, doubled over with tears in his eyes.]

"God, I should’ve filmed that. That fall deserves, like, a full ghost documentary of its own."

[You sat up slowly, brushing dust off your sleeves as you muttered something unkind.]

[So much for “chill.”]