This, ladies and gentlemen, is what happens when I read something and take it as a person challenge. Namely 'Spock was the kinda guy who would be able to take a horror story and make it boring.' Me being me, I decided, 'hmm...I'm not too sure about that'. So, what you see is another tale of horror and intrigue, only this time, with Spock as the main narrator. With help from the bridge crew, of course, with or without his say so. Also, this is a tag on to the story 'Lost', now it's own universe, that I wrote about before. There will be references, but I don't expect it to grow beyond that. That said, hope you enjoy, and Happy Early Halloween. Part two should be up reasonably shortly, for once...
...

"You're joking."

"Nope, I'm dead serious."

"Oh, God, a pun, Jim, really? Was that even necessary?"

"We all need a pun sometime or other, Bones, besides, I think it's the perfect opportunity to make one. Seeing as how we'll be bored to death listening to this thing."

"I seriously can't believe you managed to get him to do it."

"It took skill, gentle care, and a deep knowledge of the one that I needed to get something out of."

"…Are you aware of just how wrong that sounded?"

"No, in my own little world I said nothing weird."

"Ha, there's nothing little about that world."

"True."

The two talking, a Captain James T. Kirk, otherwise known as Jim, and a Leonard H. McCoy, otherwise known as Bones, walked down the hall with a smile on one face, and a look of disbelief on the other. The various officers they passed nodding to them and being nodded to in return. There were only a few who knew what they were talking about, and those were the ones who were walking behind them, snickering at the conversation, content to let McCoy handle the questions. Jim responded to him better.

"Seriously though, Jim, I don't get how you could manage to get him to agree to anything like that. What did you do?"

"Nothing like what you're thinkin, I assure you." Jim grinned, huffing out a laugh at McCoy's disgusted expression.

"Why the hell did you have to say that? Now I am thinkin' it!"

The laughter that left Jim's mouth was something that was relieving, everyone who heard it relaxing, the last amounts of stress bleeding out of them. He hadn't laughed in a while. He had been recently retrieved from being captured by what he termed 'puss-covered blobs of phlegm', if that wasn't enough to churn the crews stomach when they heard about it, what their captain had come back like was definitely another.

Wide eyed, bruised, too thin and shaking, jumping when a person came close, the light in those usually bright blue eyes gone. He hadn't laughed in the days since his release from sickbay, hadn't talked while he was in it. The only ones that had been able to stay with him when he was in sickbay were Spock and McCoy, and Spock had used that time to help bring him closer to reality. It was one of the only times McCoy had blessed that sibling bond. It was hard to like something that was born from such…evil for lack of a better word. He supposed that there was truth to the whole 'in the darkness, there is always a light' thing. With Spock's help he had gotten better quicker than anyone could have believed, but he still hadn't laughed.

They took it as a sign of him finally completing the healing process. He'd be fine.

"So, what's he gonna tell us?"

"Don't know yet, Bones, he agreed to it, but he said that he'd get to pick, or if he felt like it make it up. Well…something like that, he didn't actually say 'if he felt like it', but you get me."

"Personally, I think it vill be fun, sir."

"More than likely Chekov, very amusing."

"Can you imagine?" Sulu asked, grinning, his eyes getting that amused look to them that made the rest of them grin in agreement.

"This is insanity."

"'Course it is, Bones, what did you expect from this ship?"

"Touché."

"Here we are people, in."

They entered the empty rec room, minus a single Vulcan standing at the back, looking distinctly uncomfortable (for a Vulcan) with his form stiffer than normal, unmoving, and his head tilted to the side slightly.

"Okay, everyone, gather around Spock, find a spot on the floor. Spock, pull up a chair, or do I have to do it for you?" Jim grinned at him, the rest of the alpha shift bridge crew sitting on the floor around them, snickering slightly when Spock stiffly sat in the chair Jim had shoved over to him and realizing the parallel to when they had been in elementary school.

"Whenever you're ready Spock."

"Captain, I do not…"

"Hush, you promised, one horror story, scare our pants off."

"…I would rather you kept your pants on."

They laughed, "Come on, Spock, the goal is to scare us, not make us laugh."

"Captain, I must protest, this is…"

"No. You promised."

"Actually, what I said was…"

"No. Horror story. Now."

Spock looked at him with a perfectly dead-pan expression, his eyes reflecting his disdain. "Very well."

"Who wants to bet it's drier than the planet he came from?" McCoy whispered. He missed the way Spock straightened up with slightly narrowed eyes, watching as they snickered.

"This creature has many names-"

"All of them scientific…" Giggling and then silence followed that comment, followed by looking back up at him in expectation, wide innocent eyes attempted on the parts of Chekov and Kirk.

"None of which are pronounceable through voice." Spock continued, softly, fingers steepling as he spoke. "This creature attacks the mind. Feeds off of it, lives off of it, and devours it. This creature does not listen to begging, to pleading, reacting only with twisted words and lies. It follows its own rules, and destroys the ones who attempt to change them. Humans refer to it as Fear, but this is not what it is. Fear is a state of mind, but this thing is the cause."

"Get to the point, dammit!"

Spock narrowed his eyes slightly at the hissed comment and the sudden way they fell into snickering laughter. "She did not know why she had agreed to enter the house. She was aware that the thing lived there, but she was curious. As she was human, this natural curiosity was further heightened by the influence of her peers, who dared her to enter the house and stay for one hour. She would not have agreed, but she was unable to ignore their constant sneering and illogical name calling. The combination of bother, her own curiosity, and the realization that they would only get worse should she ignore them caused her to finally enter.

"The first step she took into that house marked the last she were to take in the living world, for the roof collapsed on her before she could make it past the threshold."

As one they fell silent, all signs of laughter and amusement gone, straightening slightly and leaning forward.

"Her peers ran to alert her parents, their panicked cries echoing in the night, but when they returned, the house was whole, and any trace that their friend had been there was gone." No one moved. "Years went by and the house remained, silent and empty, and yet no one returned, no one wished to buy the house, no one wished to live there. The girl was declared 'missing, presumed dead', and her 'friends' took most of the blame. The adults were aware of the way they had treated her, their methods consistent with what humans refer to as 'bullying'. They were punished and their families held them closer.

"So the house remained, empty, legends were whispered about it, but it was never torn down, the humans seeing it as some form of important tourist attraction. Beings who visited the area were always dared to enter it. Most of the time they declined, but one day a Vulcan came. The people considered it the perfect way to prove whether the house had a 'curse' on it, surely if the Vulcan decided the house was haunted it would be so.

"He was hesitant. He had no wish to enter the house and found their prodding's and bright smiles to be disquieting. He eventually agreed."

"How…illogical." Further snickers and titters followed the quiet statement, Spock's eyebrow rising slightly.

"The house appeared completely ordinary, if not old fashioned and worn down. They followed him quietly, watching as he slowly, gingerly made his way up the steps. As is the way of humans they attributed his hesitation to fear of what was inside, unaware that he was merely checking to make sure that the steps would not crumble under his weight. He was young, but they did not care. He was still a Vulcan and his word would be accepted.

"As soon as he crossed the threshold they breathed out a collective sigh of relief, only to suck it back in in a gasp a moment later as the door swung shut behind him. There was the sound of a lock clicking and then silence.

"The Vulcan turned to stare at the door, not bothering to try the handle as he had heard the sound of the lock click and it would have been illogical to attempt it. The door itself was solid and the surrounding state of disrepair made breaking it down dangerous as it would have caused the rest of it to crumble. He had also made an agreement. He would see what was wrong with the house, if there was anything, and currently…he was beginning to wonder."

"Not a good sign."

"The interior of the house was older than he had originally anticipated. The floor was crumbling in areas, the wallpaper peeling from the walls, once a golden color, now a faded grey. The remaining furniture was old and yellowed, the old-fashioned fireplace in the corner empty and barren. He was unsure why they had not dismantled the house. It was obvious that it was not just unsafe, but likely to collapse at a moment's notice. He put it to the illogicalness of humans and began walking through the house.

"The floor creaked under his feet, the house groaning and settling around him. He could hear the sound of the wind blowing through an open window in the upstairs floor. Yet aside from that there was nothing. No animals, no signs of anyone living in a house which would have otherwise been infested by such things as it had been uninhabited by humans for so long.

"Then he heard something. Somewhere in the house there was someone crying. Sobs and wails echoed through the house, confusing the Vulcan as he attempted to pinpoint where the voice was coming from. He hesitated and slowly began moving through the house, trying to find where the noise was coming from. He may not have been well versed in the art of dealing with humans, but he did know better than to leave what sounded like a child alone in a house like the one he was in."

"Oh boy, child in a haunted house, never a good thing…"

"He continued to try and follow the sobbing, looking from side to side in an attempt to give his ears a greater ability to pinpoint where it was coming from. He believed it was coming from the upstairs. He continued up the broken-down staircase, carefully and gingerly placing his weight on the steps that seemed to be able to support him. Eventually he made it to a long hallway, doors on either side of it, crumbling and the wood rotting away.

"He had been right, the crying was coming from the top floor, but he was still unsure exactly which door. Slowly he walked through, listening closely, and finally in the last door on the left he was certain he had reached the room that the child was in. He went to open the door, only for it to fall from its rotten hinges and collapse to the floor."

"Oops…"

"There was a girl in the far corner; she was curled up in a small ball, her hair covering her face, even after she jerked it up at the loud noise. They regarded each other, soft sobs still breaking the silence between them as she examined him from under her hair. The young Vulcan was unsure what to do, finally beginning to slowly walk forward, unwilling to speak, unsure if she would attempt to flee should he make any sudden moves.

"She tensed, her head freezing in place in a half tilted angle as she regarded him, watching as he came ten paces closer, fifteen, twenty, and finally he crouched down in front of her. She didn't move, still regarding him silently from beneath her black and tangled hair. It was then that he noticed something. There were red stains on her dress, red droplets falling from under her hair to further stain her skin and clothing. He no longer hesitated, 'Are you in need of assistance?' he asked, moving to cover his hands so he could touch her without any strong interference, he needed to think clearly.

"This was when she moved. She looked up at him, her hair falling away from her face to reveal its pale and sunken appearance, but the thing that made the young Vulcan freeze were her eyes, or rather, lack of them. Two red and bloody holes were somehow fixed on his eyes, and he watched as she slowly reached out with hands that he now saw were merely bloody stumps where the hands used to be.

"He backed away automatically, a reflex in the face of something that he did not understand, and this was when she spoke. 'My hands, she took my hands, she took my eyes, she took what's left of me. If you do not escape, she will take yours, too.' She smiled then, a toothless smile, her mouth bloody and her lips cracked."

It was then that the listeners realized that it might not have been the best idea to get the Vulcan to tell them a horror story. His voice was naturally monotone and the quiet discussion and explanation of the child's plight and the words she spoke was enough to send a shiver up their spines.

"He backed away, watching as the girl stood up, slowly walking forward after him. 'Sir, sir, please, don't leave me, I want to go home, I want to go to my mommy, to my daddy. Don't leave me alone!' She raised those arms up to him, imploring him, begging him, but he was unsure what to do, how sincere. That smile was still on her face, a twisted bloody thing that had made others before him fall into despairing fear, quivering at the sight of her.

"He made it to the door and slowly began backing out of it, watching as the smile turned sly. 'You're a clever one, wiser ones than you have attempted to take me home to my 'family'. I'll get you yet. I have you until dawn and I intend to play. Be careful my willing participant, the doors and windows do not appreciate being broken, they'll break you if you try!' She laughed then, an echoing cackle that faded into nothingness, just as she did herself, leaving the Vulcan standing in the doorway, unsure what he had seen.

"This house was not what he had expected..."

"I'd hope not…"

"Doctor McCoy, do you have anything to add?" The doctor started at that comment, looking up at him innocently.

"What? No, nothin' at all!"

"Then I suggest that you do not continue commenting, they add nothing to the story, and they are distracting. I have several experiments that I could be working on and have been overlooked to tell this story; I'd appreciate it if you did not constantly add your comments."

"I'm sorry, Spock, it's good, and I do apologize, just…keep it up. It really is interesting."

"As I was saying, this house was not what he had expected, there was something else here. Something he had not expected or encountered. A moment later and he heard the start of wood splintering and crumbling. He reacted immediately, throwing himself out of the room to roll to a stop just as the room he had just been in collapsed upon itself. Outside he could hear the sound of people screaming. He took a moment to straighten himself and categorize what had happened, attempting to discover what she had meant and who that girl had been. From what he understood about human hauntings, he had heard that only those who had yet to fulfill their purpose were able to dwell in these places. He had found it illogical and unlikely when he first heard it, but there were only so many logical explanations. Until he had a better grasp of what it was, he would treat it in the only way he could. With caution, and treating it as it wished to be treated. He would play her game."