The screen flashes after a moment and the link begins to load.
A couple of boys, looking to be in their late teens, flash onto the screen and make a face at the camera. The boy on the left holds up a sign that says ‘Nightmare Hour’ and they proceed to film a very crude and unedited intro.
“Yo! I’m Zack!”
“And I’m Brandon!”
They mix their voices together and loudly state to the camera.
“AND THIS IS THE ‘NIGHTMARE HOUR’!”
Zack throws devil horns to the camera and sticks out his tongue, while Brandon continues the intro as best as he can while trying not to laugh or cringe himself into a black hole.
“Now, the only ghost hunting show on Noobtoob that uses ACTUAL FLUFFIES to hunt for the spirits of the DAMNED!”
Brandon says, bugging out his eyes in mock terror while Zack makes lightning and thunder sounds with his mouth in the background.
The moment that he finishes saying that the camera falls down to take in the sight of the grass below their feet and uproarious laughter can be heard in the background.
“Bro! that was the cringiest thing I have ever done, br-”
-=-
The camera quickly shutters and judging from the time stamp, it looks like the boys picked up their recording about ten minutes later.
Zack is at center in the camera, standing in front of a bunch of computer monitors hooked up to a battery pack in the back of an old pickup truck on a grey plastic folding table.
“We are here just outside of the Levey House! One of the most infamous haunted houses in the province, rumored to be not just haunted… but cursed as well!”
Queue a bunch of choppy edited shots of both the house, in its earlier years and the ruins it sits in now, old black and white pictures of the old Levey family and numerous generic ‘scary imagery’ like skulls and CGI ghosts and the like.
Eventually the images settle on a single image, a black and white photo of a teenage girl in an old-style dress, with pale hair and extensive freckles. Zack comes over the screen.
“This Beatrice Levey, the youngest heir to wealthy Levey family. She was born sickly, pale and weak; a black mark on the otherwise prestigious old family.”
“She was often mistreated by her siblings and her parents and kept far from the public eye where she could do no harm to their illustrious reputation.”
A number of old photographs rush past the screen interspersed with some choppy editing.
“Her only joy was tending to the animals that her family owned, dog, cats, it was even said that she tended to the houses rats in search of a friend.”
“It is said on the eve of her fifteenth birthday, she had been promised by her father as a bride to another wealthy industrialist, a pig of a man who made his fortune in the meat business, and was renowned for his temper and string of runaway brides.”
“It is said that in response to this last indignity, she drank enough poison to kill a horse and while doing so cursed the family to ruin. And given that the other members of her household all met their ends within a decade of her death, I’d say that’s pretty acreate, accurate-FUC”
-=-
The feed cuts again and performs another brief time skip, this time showing Brandon standing in front of a small pen of multicolored fluffies, all of them rigged up with a helmet and a nylon strap around their waists.
“Alright everybody, Brandon here with the behind-the-scenes commentary!”
“So, we figured that since the real-life Beatrice Levey was such a big fan of animals, we may catch a glimpse of her if we use something kinda like an animal to draw her ‘ghost’ out into the shot!”
A unidentified voice from the other side of the camera pipes up.
“So, you decided to use fluffies? The most easily scared creature known to man, with a camera strapped to its head, to get footage?”
“Well Kyle, when you say it like that, it kinda makes me sound like a dumba-
The camera quickly cuts and then resumes a minute later, showing now a single off color white unicorn fluffy with a camera, flashlight and microphone strapped to its head and a steadying device wrapped around its waist.
In addition to this odd setup, there are a pair of weanling foals, one grey pegasus and one dark blue earthy crudely affixed to the fluffies back with tape and string to hold them in place.
Both of the foals have a small piece of cloth tied over their eyes.
“- so the combination of the anti-anxiety pills and the hugs from the comfort foals keep them from running away and ruining the shot! I trained them to do it myself! Watch!”
“Hey you two, Willow is scared, hop to it!”
As the voice from off screen commands, the grey fluffy starts to hug the back of the off white fluffy called Willow who begins to coo lightly at the comforting touch of a baby fluffy.
The dark blue lets out a small string of sobs and doesn’t move.
“I SAID GIVE HUGGIES YOU LITTLE BLUE SHIT!”
A hand holding a thin rod made of stiff plastic comes into frame and starts striking the blue foal on its ass multiple times, eliciting a string of pained peeps and distressed pleading.
“EEE! NU SOWWY STICK! AM GUD FWUFFY! PEEP! NUU-HU-HU! WAI SEE PWACES NU WOWK! EEE!”
Eventually, the blue foal starts to hug the now slightly more distressed Willow and the beatings stops, although the foal does quietly sob into the off white fluffies fur as it gives it hugs.
“See? Foolproof!”
“Wai hewt no see babbehs… am gud babbehs…”
“Okay, but something still has me confused.”
“Shoot.”
“Why does she have two of them when all of the others only get one?”
“Oh, that. Willow is an especially cowardly bitch! So, she gets to have two… and extra medicine!”
-=-
The camera cuts again before splitting into seven different perspectives, two showing the boys Zack and Brandon, the third showing a younger man with puffy brown hair and large glasses sitting in front of a monitor, apparently ‘Kyle the Editor’ according to the tag.
The other five show different low shots of a rather intimidating looking ruined manor estate, as well as the occasional fluffy in the shot. Two of those cameras are rhythmically shaking, with one angled upward slightly as opposed to the other, with a light audio pickup.
“…enf…enf, enf… enf…”
“Oh, for fuck sakes…”
Zack reached over and pressed a key on one of his keyboards and the tilted camera suddenly shook violently before toppling over and rapidly changing directions as the fluffy it was attached to had their shock collar activated.
“EEE! NU HEWT CWEAMPUFF!”
“Get to work shitrats, the door is open!”
The five cameras slowly approach the door to the dilapidated old house, whose door hung slightly ajar and creaked in the stiff autumn wind.
One of the lead cameras toddled up to the door and slowly extended a lavender colored hoof to push the door open, revealing a dark lit hallway of rotted wood illuminated only by the flashlight beams from the fluffies equipment.
“H-Hewwo?”
Theme week