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whore-ibly-hot · 6 months

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💚👻Yan!Harold Biddle Hc's💚👻

"Viewer beware, you're in for a scare."

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Yandere themes, dark behavior, possession, general spooks, serial killer, bullying, angst teen ghost boy?

AN: Requested by an Anon, this man has me down so bad, and I hope this inspires others to write for him. I love both old and new goosebumps media, and how our reader meets Harold is VERY similar to the goosebumps TV show episode 'The Phantom of the Opera'. Enjoy and happy belated Halloween! Go watch Goosebumps on Disney ➕️. Never done an HC before...

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💚In a situation for Harold to grow truly attached to someone, you would have to be from out of town, or visiting a family member, perhaps. Harold is filled with such hatred for his former classmates and there spawn, that even those who didn't kill him, he knows stood idly by and ignored him in school. Because of this, he probably wouldn't want the son or daughter of a former classmate.

👻Maybe you moved to Port Lawrence with your family, whether for work or a fresh start, or maybe your a distant cousin of one of the people in town. As long as you aren't a direct descendant, Harold will have an easier time coming to terms with these feelings.

💚Being new in town was hard for you, nerve wracking even. Everyone at this school seemed to have a clique or group, and even the loners had their own things going on. Luckily, you caught wind through overhearing some classmates that a party was being held on Halloween night. Hoping to make some real friends, you donned a costume and set out.

👻The address had been kind of hard to find, some old, blocked off road with a creepy mansion at the end. Still, the party was in full swing, teens dancing and drinking, strobe lights and shitty music filled the main room of the house. You asked one of your classmates, Lucas, about the house.

"Oh, yeah. Some kid died here like, a hundred years ago or something. Big explosions, a fire..." A skinnier boy in a cat costume cut him off. "Don't listen to Lucas, it wasn't a hundred years ago, dude. It was like, the 90s." He rolls his eyes.

💚A little uneasy about sneaking into a house, much more the site of a gruesome death, you tried to enjoy the party. After a few drinks, Dr. Pepper, you weren't trying to call your parents to take you home, you went looking for a bathroom.

This would prove pretty difficult. That same boy from earlier, Lucas, ate worms, and was puking in bathroom number one. The second bathroom was locked, and from the groaning and smacking inside, you could tell you didn't want to know what was going on inside.

👻This had left you with not choice but to go to the bathroom in the basement. Standing at the edge of the stairs and looking down the dark hallway, floored with rickety wooden steps, you had gathered your courage and descended.

💚Biddle had expected company, but unlike the mask he coerced Isabella into taking, or the camera he snuck in Isaac's bag, you didn't take anything. He waited for another, foolish teen to take something. He had a few items set out for specific peoples... but, he wasn't against another thief falling victim to his cursed items.

👻However, you surprised him. Just looked for the bathroom door, went, and then headed right back up to the party. When Mr. Bratt came home, the teens scattered, to cars and into the woods. Harold used this time to torment Allison, his burned, ghostly form shrieking at her. She had screamed in terror, and Isaiah soon found her.

💚You were driving home, but took pity and stopped to help a few of your classmates whose rides had fled. After several hours of dropping people off, you were finally able to get back home. A pair of pale ghostly eyes watched you from the window of your room. No one else had stopped to help their friends, much less strangers. How nice you were...

💚As days went by, and mysterious terrors afflicted the teens of Port Lawrence, you grew close to some of them. A busy body named Margot, a cheer leader named Allison, and a jock named Isaiah. All shared and English class with the new teacher (and owner of the Biddle house), Mr. Bratt. Mr. Bratt was odder at sometimes than others, almost like he was fighting with himself. He was always tired and dark eyed.

👻From deep inside, viewing the world through Mr. Bratt, Harold would observe the teens. It was just as he remembered it, the gossip, the catty looks and the fake smiles. But nothing sickened him more than watching you interact with the others, so sweet and kind, but only friends with the filth in this town.

👻On your end, you really liked Mr. Bratt. He was a funny teacher, always cracking jokes and saying something odd. He always gave you perfect grades, which was odd because you noticed you had gotten a few questions wrong when you would compare projects and assignments to classmates. Still, he was a great teacher.

💚Harold wasn't a fool. He had always been smart when he was alive, and his evil intentions had made him no less cunning. He knows he can't pursue you romantically as long as he's possessing a teacher. He'd rather not get his possession vessel arrested and sent to jail. He doesn't want his house empty, not right now.

👻When he heard you had taken up the role of a tech member for the drama department, he formed a plan. The old elevator platform to the schools abandoned basement was 'accidentally' left open, a gaping hole in the dark of the stage.

💚You unfortunately weren't aware of this, and had stayed late to finish some lighting set up. As you close up and turn out the overhead lights, the floor had felt as those it disappeared beneath you. As you plummet, you let out a pitch scream. It wasn't a long fall, not even that deep, but it hurt. Your hips and ankle were aching, throbbing, and red hot tears had begun to stream from your cheeks. You felt to scared to stand or move, but it was late. How were you supposed to get out of here?

👻As you whimpered, you heard a sound in the silence. Just then, a sound from the side. It sounded like a creaking floor panel.

"H-hello? Is someone there?" You called out fearfully. A boy, haired curly and tall looms over you. His eyes have dark circles, his face almost blends into the shadows of the basement, but... you chalk it up to blurry vision and bad lighting.

💚"Aw... how'd you end up down here?" He asked, voice low and slow as he had tilted his head. "I'm on tech crew, I fell. I think my ankle is... twisted or something. Could you help me?" She asks.

"Of course..." he drawled. His eyes darkened and a grin tugged at his cheeks as he said the next statement. "What kind of sick, sick monster would leave someone to die in a basement, all alone?" He said. You gulp and chuckle awkwardly. "Well, it's just my ankle. Don't think I'm dying." You joked.

👻"Course not. Come on." He had extended his hand to you, and hoisted you up against him with surprising strength. Despite the soft flannel shirt he was wearing, his skin felt frigid to the touch, yet oddly warm, an icey burning sensation could be felt where his hand was still on your arm.

"Should be a lever... right over-" he looks around, the snaps his fingers and points. "Right there." You had both hopped on the platform. "How'd you know how to get out of the basement, I heard it's been blocked off like, forever." She asks.

💚"I guess I just, know more than other people." He shrugs. Once he had helped you out of the school, you had gone to your car. Fidgeting with your keys, you faced away from him as you unlocked your car. "What did you say your name was?" You ask.

👻"Doesn't matter. Just a friend." When you turn to him with a confused look, he's gone. You looked around, but tired, you drove from the lot.

💚Back at the Biddle Manor, while Mr. Bratt tried to get a peaceful night of sleep without being possessed for once, Harold is in the basement, playing with the Polaroid camera Isaiah had tried so hard to destroy. He wonders, can it just take normal photos if he wills it too? He has other things to attend too, he can't always watch you, but he'd love a few pictures of you.

👻Even if the camera could only take pictures of your fate, maybe it wouldn't bother him too much. What would the future hold? Would you be with him? He hoped so, but the idea of what he could see that would displease him swayed him away from that path. No, he'll stick to watching you through Bratt, when he can, or through your windows on those precious nights you leave a curtain open.

💚As he sits in the room of his demise, he looks at his hands, black char marks occasionally appearing. For once, he doesn't focus on the burning rage and actual burning feeling that courses through his body. No, this warmth is softer. The warmth from when you touched him and he touched you. Contact, from someone who cared. Someone who he saw every private moment of, just to ensure that you had only pure intentions with everyone you met. Would you betray him if you knew, what he was like, who he was? He shakes his head. No. He holds all the cards now. He won't be weak ever again, he won't let you slip away.

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General bonus hc's:

💚Harold only wears what teens at Port Lawrence high now think of as 'grunge'. Oversized sweatshirt, flannels, loose pants. He has never once brushed his hair, even when he was alive. He doesn't hate that grunge is popular now though. He enjoy leaving a flannel or a Jean jacket in your closet, hoping you'll assume one of your parents gifted it to you.

👻You can always tell when his ghost in nearby, even if he's not visible there are tells, even if you don't realize what they are pointing too. You might feel a stinging if he passes by, a side effect of the pain from his burns. The smell of smoke and dark room chemicals fills the air if he's around, and you feel like your being watched.

💚He'd like to kiss you, or hold you, but he's not ready to even attempt that, much less a real introduction. He's got a lot going on right now. For now, you'll only see him around town, at night when your alone. At a bus stop? Oh, that mysterious boy from the other night us passing by. Buying a snack? He's got some spare cash. Walking home alone at night? Good thing his lanky silhouette can be seen leaning out from under a streetlight. Don't worry, he'll walk you home. You wouldn't believe the sort of monsters that live in this town, that lurk. It's enough to give you goosebumps...

You wonder why you always forget to ask his name...

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