“Sure.”
“Let’s find a place to sit that isn’t too disgusting.”
They walked down the hallway some more, using their flashlights to light the way. They walked until they reached one of the bigger rooms that still had a couple of chairs in it.
“I think the squatters were in here,” Madeline said as she pulled several sticks of incense from her purse. “Hang on, let me freshen the place up a bit.”
She set to work placing the incense around the room, sticking them sideways, jutting from the corners of cupboards so they could burn to ash without catching anything on fire. While she was busy, Jake managed to clear off two chairs so they could sit.
“Please,” he said as he put his hands on the back of one of the chairs, “sit, relax. Let’s talk.”
“Okay.”
Jake took a deep breath. He looked warily around the room.
“This probably isn’t the best place to discuss this, and I’m not sure I want this recorded for the show, but here’s what I have.
“Back in the sixties, several people died here. I know people died before that time, but it was the sixties victims I was more interested in. They came from money. New or old, it didn’t matter. If a movie star had a depressed kid, the kid was sent here. Troubles with booze, the same thing. There were a few very disturbed people here as well, but not like in the old days. This is why it made me so curious. Why are the murders of these rich relatives unsolved?
“I’ve spent about a year researching this story,” he said. “I was interested in this place long before this TV show came along. I know a lot about what went on between these walls.”
“I didn’t know that,” Madeline said.
“No, not many people do. There are other places I’m into as well, but that’s another story. You know, Madeline, I found out a few things that bugged me.”
“Like what?”
“Well, the unsolved murders,” he said. “They all appeared to be some kind of food poisoning. That’s why I called them murders. Some of the patients were listed as having heart problems or respiratory issues. I was wondering how food poisoning could kill one person but no one else in an institutional setting. How come there was never an epidemic?”
“You’re right. These days if there’s salmonella or some other thing, hundreds of people get sick and a few might die. There are recalls and investigations.”
“Exactly. So if people supposedly died of food poisoning, what did they eat that the others didn’t? Did they have special meals?”
“Were you able to find anything out?”
“A little bit. I couldn’t find any indications of any of the patients having special diets. But I was able to access some information on the Internet and other places.”
“So you think that maybe people were poisoned.”
“I think people were experimented on and disposed of,” Jake said. “There’s more.”
“What?”
“You know how there are so many homeless people. Squatters and such. Several have been found dead over the years in this building and around the grounds. They all seem to have been through some kind of medical operations, but the end result was always poison.”
“Really?”
“Yes. They were found dead in these rooms, but when they were autopsied, it seemed like things had been done to them. Crude stitches. Organs missing.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yep. I did a lot of research, and I can’t believe no one has been following this. Since most of the victims in recent years have been homeless, no one has bothered looking into it. Well, I had to dig further. I went back to the patient files.”
“Tell me, how do you have access to patient files?” Madeline asked.
“A real reporter doesn’t give away his sources,” Jake said firmly. “Let me just tell you what I found.”
“The victims were organ donors,” Madeline said.
“Yes, and mostly before death, just like the homeless. They were part of a transplant program.”
“But how could that be? They were from wealthy families.”
“Think about it. A doctor could say someone needs an operation, and back then, no one knew anything about anything. He could harvest the organ. Now he’s been paid for an operation and has an organ to sell.”
“For goodness’s sake. So I guess it’s all died down.”
“I don’t think so. It’s hard to say. There are missing homeless people all the time, but no one keeps track of them. No one knows for sure what happens to them.”
“Weren’t there tours here?”
“For a couple of years,” Jake said. “Back when that rich guy bought it and was going to turn it into condos. He turned it into a tourist attraction for a while. People could go on guided tours through certain parts. He also let ghost hunters in, like us today.”
“Did anything ever happen on the tours?” Madeline asked.
“Oh yes. There were a couple of freak accidents. There was one strange case where a group of teenagers spent the night. By morning, three of them were dead. Horrible accidents, every last one. Never solved. Most think it was ghosts.”
“Maybe. What about that thing in the tunnel we saw last night? What the hell was that?” Madeline said.
“Exactly. No one knows anything about anything. There have been a couple of suicides over the years. People put those down to madness, the haunting. Suicides by tourists and one even by a ghost hunter. In those cases, the victims complained several times of weird occurrences and were very frightened to be here at all. I guess they knew their number was up.”
“So you think there’s a couple of things going on here. Ghost killings and some mad scientist killings,” Madeline said.
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. It sounds so... like a movie.”
“This is a place rich with history and rumors. I wouldn’t doubt if organized crime didn’t dump a few bodies here as well over the years. Maybe buried them in the walls.”
“Why not? It’s not like there’s security here.”
“Oh, there was for a long time. Cameras and the whole nine yards. But the equipment kept malfunctioning and breaking down. Of course, there were some interesting things caught on tape. Orbs, ectoplasm, that thing in the tunnels.”
“You knew about that thing?”
“Sure. Someone posted it on YouTube. You should check it out sometime.”
“Good Lord. That thing scared me to death.”
“Now you tell me, Madeline. Was that thing in the tunnel real?”
“What do you mean, real? We were there.”
“But do you think it was supernatural or do you think it was created?”
“How would that be created?”
“I don’t know. Fans, some lights, a fog machine. I’m not a movie-magic dude, but I know things can be created.”
Madeline thought about it. Could he be right? Could they have experienced some kind of elaborate theatrical production?
“Do you think the TV show did it?” Madeline asked.
“In this case, no. I don’t doubt that on some of the shows, the crew does tease the ghost hunters. But here... no.”
“So who would do it?”
“Someone trying to scare people away from the hospital. Now, I don’t want to talk about those particulars anymore. Think about what I’ve said and draw your own conclusions. We’ll discuss it later.”
Madeline followed him as he broke through yet another door. As she watched him, she knew he was a man on a mission. There was something he wasn’t telling her. Something he was looking for. His jaw was set in grim determination, his eyes intense even in the dim light.
“Do you think this is still going on?” Madeline asked. “Do you think...?”
“I’m not sure. I think, though, that we should find out if Sherry was an organ donor,” Jake said.
“Sherry?” Madeline asked. “Oh, please. She doesn’t even fit the profile. You said yourself the dude takes th
e organs while they are still alive. She’s dead, and there wasn’t any blood on her. So I don’t think the guy cut her up.”
“You’re right.” Jake nodded. “Who knows?”
“Still, it’s all very bizarre, though. All that harvesting through the years.”
“If it’s true,” Jake said. “I could be totally off base. This place could just be haunted and people die for no reason. Madness. Suicide. Ghosts.”
“It sounds like you have a lot of information, though,” Madeline said. “A hell of lot of research.”
“I do like to read and dig. Kind of a compulsion.” Jake winked. “Now, I guess we should shut up so we can see if there are any visitors from Ward 18 here today.”
Madeline set up several electric tea lights and lit more incense. They sat quietly in the room, watching the flicker of the candles. Madeline thought about what Jake had told her.
“Tell me, Jake. Did you use divination devices to figure all this out?” she asked.
“Divination devices?” he asked. “My... what are you asking?”
“Did you use tarot cards or go to a psychic or something?”
Jake sighed and played with his fingers. “I hate to admit it, but yes. I’ve seen several psychics and have asked many types of questions. In the end, this is the story I’ve managed to put together. It feels right.”
Madeline nodded. “It feels right to me too. Do you have any clues about the murderer?”
Jake nodded. “A few, but none I want to share right now. The walls have ears, you know.” He pointed to the cameras.
Madeline nodded. “I know.”
She pointed her own camera around the room and shot a series of pictures. She didn’t see anything with her eyes, she didn’t feel anything in her body, but that didn’t mean nothing was there.
“Well, that’s enough of this room, “Jake finally said. “Let’s go down the hall and see if there’s anything else.”
Madeline walked down the corridor, following him carefully and quietly. When they got to the end, there was a series of closed doors that led down another hallway.
“The film crew didn’t get down that far,” he said as he pushed open the door. “This next part will be only our cameras. They’ve not been down here at all.”
Madeline could immediately see the difference between the parts of the building that had been prepared for the show and this section that hadn’t been. The ground was covered in layers of dusty filth. Cobwebs and thick clouds of dirt covered chairs and desks and beds. They wandered down the corridor, peering into each room as they went. Some of the doors were stuck. Jake rattled them but didn’t try to open them. He put his hands against each doorframe, pressing against the wood, his eyes closed. Madeline watched him, wondering if he was trying to psychically find something. He would touch every door they came upon and frown, and so they continued on.
Ahead of her, Madeline noticed vapors from the walls were swirling into thicker clouds that hung in the middle of the hallway. Maybe in California there was some kind of humidity thing that created fog in houses. Mists. She had always thought of fog, mists and humidity as a New England thing, but who was to say that California didn’t have it as well?
“God, this is nerve-wracking,” Madeline whispered.
“Night and day, isn’t it?” he said.
They crept along, Jake leaning forward, his flashlight waving up and down in a steady stream so they could get their bearings. From the way his unsteady hand moved, Madeline had the sense of being in a disco at times, but she kept her mouth shut and let him dance the light around.
Instead of passing through the mists or evaporating by the time she arrived, these particular spirits wanted to be part of her. More of them latched on to her as she followed Jake through the stairway. She wondered if she should tell him to aim his camera at her to see if they could pick up the ghosts.
The mists began to become more real to her as the sensation of the ghosts touching her grew stronger. At first she thought they were her imagination. She couldn’t deny there was fog or smoke or maybe a trick being played, but once they touched her, she opened up her mind to the idea that maybe this was more than smoke.
She let the sensations glide through her as she walked. Her fingers were icy cold as she held her camera steady, but her feet were warm. She wore sturdy work boots with steel toes and warm, fuzzy socks that wicked away the sweat.
The asylum was chilly, even more so in the unexplored parts, but as the ghosts gathered around her, their presence delivered warmth. She stared over at Jake. Were there ghosts huddled around him too? She blurred her eyes, trying to see past him, to see if there were any forms connected to him, but she didn’t know.
Pay attention to yourself, her mother said.
“Stop,” Madeline said. Jake stopped and looked at her. “Oh, I meant... never mind.”
“Did you hear something?” he asked.
“No. But I...”
“Shhh, listen.”
Madeline cocked her head and tried to hear. She thought she heard footsteps farther down the corridor, but she couldn’t be certain. Then just as she was about to say something, there was the sound of a door slamming. The ghosts around her legs huddled tightly, and she cried out.
“Too much,” she said, shaking her legs. They hung on, many fingers clutching and long tendrils that connected to misty shapes hooking into her. They didn’t appear solid, yet she could feel them and it wasn’t pleasant at all.
“Stop it,” she cried. Jake stared at her, watching as she shook her arms and legs.
“What is going on with you? Are there bugs on you?” he asked.
“No, ghosts. I hardly ever see ghosts or feel them, but they are clinging to me like a bunch of frightened cats.”
“You’re nuts,” Jake said. “I don’t see a thing—” He reached for his head. He leaned over and was pushed and shoved by invisible hands. He was dragged down the hall by his hair, his feet kicking, his hands hitting at unseen captors.
“Jesus!” he cried, trying to get out of their grip. They tossed him, not hard, but enough to move him several feet farther down the corridor.
“They want us to hurry,” Madeline said. “God, this is creeping me out.” She ran down the hall to help Jake up. He rubbed his head.
“Okay, they got me good. I believe... oh yeah.” He looked nervously around the hallway. “Are they still here?”
“Yes, and they’re getting really pissed off.” As Madeline spoke she heard a screeching sound. It was faded at first, as if it were on mute, and then suddenly, as if a button had been clicked, the noise shrieked forth in full blast. Madeline put her hands over her ears, which wasn’t easy with the weight of the writhing ghosts clinging to her arms. More ghostly wailings burst forth. Then there was a lower, darker sound than the other. Guttural noises created sloppy words.
“Get out,” it said.
Madeline grabbed Jake’s arm. “Oh my God, I think I’m going to pass out.”
“Can you see it?” Jake asked. Madeline searched the images of the writhing forms and at last spotted the darkest, foulest-looking form. Its undulating shape mutated from a wispy circle to a face. It was connected to her, flowing from her as the other shapes did. A huge, angry face filled the hall the longer she looked at it, growing more detailed and menacing. It stared at her with giant red eyes, tiny black slits for pupils.
“Get out!” it roared again.
“We need to find out what happened,” Madeline said.
The ghosts swirled around and through each other, still clinging to Madeline with tendrils curled around her arms and legs. They tightened their grip.
“Ow,” Madeline said.
“They need to know...” one form wailed as it tried to pull Madeline in the direction of the end of the corridor.
“They need to go,” the angry spirit said. Its tendril slipped from its hold on her leg and slithered up her body, stroking her belly and circling her breasts. It pinched one of her nipples roughly.<
br />
“Stop it,” Madeline said. Jake watched, not seeing the ghost but seeing her positioned as though she was tied up and being harassed.
The tendril wrapped around Madeline’s neck and tightened. She reached up to pull it off, but the other ghosts restrained her. Jake watched her face turning red.
“Are you being strangled?” he asked, stepping toward her. Madeline couldn’t talk, but she tried to nod, her eyes wide with fear. Jake brushed his hands along her neck.
“Be gone. Let go,” he cried. “You’re not wanted here. Go bother someone else.” Madeline sighed as each spirit’s grip loosened. Slowly they slithered from her and faded back into the walls. Madeline rubbed her neck.
“They’re gone,” she said. Jake nodded.
“Thank you.” Madeline leaned toward Jake. She stared into his eyes for a moment as he stared into hers. The tension between them thickened. She licked her lips, longing to kiss him, to thank him for helping her. She stepped back from him and turned away. “So, let’s go.”
As they continued down the hallway, Madeline realized she was trembling. She had never experienced a psychic phenomenon like that before. She could understand how people could be driven mad, dealing with demons like that night after night, especially if they already were out of touch with reality to start. Her whole body shook.
“Are you okay?” Jake asked.
“Sure. Just a little paranormal encounter. Did you get anything on the camera?” she asked.
“I had it on you a lot, so if it was going to pick something up, it should be there,” Jake said.
“That really was weird for me, you know,” Madeline said. “Once in a while, I can see things but never feel them. Certainly not like that.”
“I felt different temperatures. Also sensations, like when you’re swimming in the ocean and a piece of seaweed wraps around your leg.”
“Exactly. And you know... They didn’t really go away. They’re still here,” Madeline said.
“Really?”
“Yes, they’re just operating on a different vibration. One I can’t tune in to, and I really don’t want to even if I could.”
“How do you know you’re not just nuts?” Jake said.
“How do you know you’re not just nuts?” Madeline asked.
Aquarius: Haunted Heart Page 13
