The Enigma of the Spirits

by Hector, Jr

  “You can take Mary down to the library. Honestly, I do not know why you came all this way just to ask me that. It is not like she cannot walk…” he says, looking at me with a knowing look.

  I smile, my cheeks red hot. I nod and turn around, heading out of his office. Those bitches at the walk-in reception on the first floor are going to be so jealous.

  I snicker as I pass a reception desk, the ladies and even some of the men there giving me “the look.” The elevator doors slide open. I step in and turn towards the button panel and press the button with the number three printed on it. For a moment I am free falling, as the elevator begins to ascend. What was that in the doctor’s office? I have never experienced a vision like that before. I know it was not the past, nor was it the future. Yet, how could it be the present? The Hotel Saxon has been out of commission for a good ten to twenty years. A horrible accident happened there. A murder.

  -Ding-

  I rush out as nurses are bustling about the floor. “What is happening?!” I ask a nurse who is also walking along with me. “A patient has gone into v-fib,” he tells me. “Who?” I ask. “A patient by the name of Mary Velasquez.”

  I begin to trot now. That tone of the machine reaches my ears, as I arrive. I am standing before a group of nurses and two doctors. One of the doctors is inserting an I.V. into her arm, while the doctor on her right is giving her CPR. Yet, I can tell she is not coming back. It has been more than five minutes. The woman on her left, Dr. Julia, a woman in her late thirties with red hair. She is slender but with curves, and let us just say that she is quite well “endowed.” I am always surprised to hear that she is single.

  She nods as she places her hand over the doctor’s hands. He looks up at her, breathing heavily. He takes a step back, sweat at his brow and defeat dragging down upon his shoulders. Dr. Jacob, a doctor in his late twenties. A prodigy that came here about two years ago. He is not married, but he is going out with a nurse so I have heard. He closes his eyes and exhales as his head hangs. Dr. Julia’s voice shatters the heavy atmosphere: “Time of death is six-o'clock in the afternoon on April twenty-third of the year 2015.” The nurses huddled around the patient begin to disperse into floor, all returning to other patients. Dr. Jacob walks off, heading for the elevator. I stand there for a little while longer, before I too turn around and head for the elevator. A patient on the first floor, it is time for me to check up on him.

  “Anyone there…?”

  I freeze.

  “Please, can you help me? Where am I?”

  The girl that had just died is standing right in front of me. Her arm is not in a cast, and she is no longer wearing any slacks. She is wearing some jeans with a Tee that said I am so full, I can’t even breathe. She looks around her, a lost and confused look as she keeps asking the people going through her again and again.

  “Can you help me? Why isn’t anyone answering me!!?”

  Her blonde hair is messy and jaded. Her once rosy skin is pale and her eyes no longer hold that liveliness that live people have. She is going into hysteria, but her movements are slow. No one can hear her as she begins to scream. No one can see as she lowers herself into the ground, hugging her knees as she huddles.

  “Erick?”

  I hear my name, but from far away. No one can see. No one can hear. I take a step closer and reach out for her.

  “Erick!”

  I turn to the person whose hand was on my arm. His curly hair was in a bun. His brown eyes are full of concern and his lips are poised in a stern way. A small outbreak is happening all over his face, which might be because of all the medicine he received here.

  “You cannot help her, Erick. She must help herself first, if she wishes to be able to communicate with you.”

  I look away and watch Mary just sit there, hugging her knees as person after person passes through her.

  “Come on, you should go.”

  I just nod and allow Hector to lead me towards the elevator. The elevator doors open and we both step in. At last I find my voice as I feel the silence’s gentle embrace: “What are you doing on the second floor Hector? Were you not visiting your friend Javana?

  “I sensed her death, as well of that many others,” he responds.

  I just look at him. There are many of us out there, all living our lives so differently, but I think I can speak for all of us when I say we all have seen horrors that make death a favorable option. All because we know more than anyone that death is not the end. It is just a way out.

  I remember when I was younger, when I slept with my mom and my dad in the same room. My parents had their own room, but they insisted in sleeping with me. I personally hated it, because I could no longer watch T.V. till late or just stay up late in general. Yet, I never complained because, I remember that every other night I would see them come out of the dark. No, they were part of the dark. Other times, I could tell they were other things and not people. Those other things came in all shapes and forms. They would never harm me, but they always just got close enough to poke me or breathe on me. Even till this day, no matter how many of them I see, I cannot stop myself from freezing. From losing my breathe. From that fear rising deep with me. I cannot. It just happens.

  -Ding-

  “Erick?”

  I look at Hector, and then on towards the nurses and doctors coming and going. It was always hectic, every day, but on this moment there was even more activity than usual.

  “You have to go and help them, Erick,” he says.

  I look at him, a glint of knowing in his eyes. He nods towards the nurses, doctors, and patients. He smiles warmly at me. I step onto the floor, ignoring the souls appearing, walking, yelling, and even those moving on. This is going to be a long night.

  Chapter 11

  -Erick-

  I run my hand through my chestnut colored hair, as I serve myself a cup of coffee in the break room. It is five in the morning, and it has been a sad and tiresome day. It is one of those days where death is just everywhere.

  “A long day?”

  I exhale and turn around with coffee in hand. I head over to the round table next to the window that overlooks the parking lot, and sit next to Barb. He has long hair that reaches up to his shoulders. He is buff and masculinity oozes from every part of his body. I always can’t help but laugh at him complaining every now and then, that he always has to buy his clothing a size bigger, because of how big he is getting.

  “Yes. Today is one of those days that just sucks. So much death, everywhere,” I respond.

  He inhales and exhales, before taking a sip of his coffee. I understand all too well that feeling.

  “I was in a surgery right now, with a man on the table. When they opened him up, the doctors just closed him up again. The cancer had spread everywhere…,” he says.

  He takes another sip of his coffee.

  “About an hour ago, we took off life support a twenty year old man who had suffered an aneurism,” I say.

  I take a sip of my coffee as we both just look ahead, the day's toils heavy on our shoulders and a burden on our hearts.

  “Well…,” he says as he suddenly stands, the chair grinding against the hard stone floor. “I have to go. My break ended five minutes ago.”

  I nod. I hear the cup of coffee he has land in the trash can, before the door’s hinges squeak as he leaves the room. I press the home button, the screen coming to life. I watch the small timer count down: ten minutes left.

  “Hello?”

  I almost choke on my coffee, as this old man appears before a snack dispenser against the wall on my left. “Hello?!” he says a little more strongly. As he turns towards me, I look away, not wanting him to know I am aware of him.

  “Please, anyone there, I am so cold.”

  It takes all the resolve I have not to answer to his confusion, his fear, his desolation. If I did, I would never finish. There are thousands, maybe even millions of ghosts and spirits here. Every day there is another one. They all wallow in their despa
ir, their agony, their confusion. They wander the hospital lost, unable to move on. I have even witnessed ghosts and spirits change and become something horrible, evil. This is the sole reason on my first year here, I almost did not make it. I just could not believe the endlessness of it. It impacted me more how just after death, how some of this people could be standing beside me with that look of disbelief and confusion. Could death just give them a break? Why did it have to be so cruel as to force them to stay? All because some higher power deemed it necessary that they learn their lesson or whatever.

  -Ring- -Ring-

  I look down at my phone and press my thumb against the home button, unlocking my phone and disrupting my alarm. It seems my time is over. I stand up, the chair grating against the stone floor. I turn and begin to walk towards the trashcan, when I lose my breath.

  “Please, can you help me? Please.”

  It takes all the resolve to ignore it, as I walk right through it. I almost throw my cup of coffee into the trashcan, but not before realizing that the half that remained was frozen solid. A loud thunk as I turn and head towards the door.

  “Please, help me…”

  I open the door and almost run out, but in my hurry I bump into someone. The doctor’s hands go up into the air as the hot coffee spills on him. He grunts loudly. I freeze, realizing it is Dr. Reese. “I am so sorry, Dr. Reese!” I say as I feverishly try to wipe clean his stained coat and shirt with my hands. I stop when his hands grasp my wrists. I look at him, preparing for the assault, verbal and physical. He smiles.

  “It is alright, Erick. Really it is,” he says as he looks down at his ruined coat and shirt. “Honestly, I got lucky. I just punched out and I am heading home.”

  He looks at me again, his brown eyes reflecting the sincerity of his words. I nod, speechless.

  “But, are you okay? You almost tackled me down.”

  Again, speechless. I have no idea how to respond to him. I am still trying to get over that I spilled and ruined the clothing of one of the hottest doctors in the hospitals.

  “Erick?”

  I nod and smile sheepishly, feeling my cheeks burn hot as I realize both of his hands are now planted on my cheeks.

  “I am fine doctor. I just did not want to be late, but now that I think about it, I am about to finish my shift. Just thirty more minutes.”

  He looks at me with a hint of doubt, before releasing me, his hands leaving me with a gentleness and caress I had not felt from another human being in a long time. He nods. I step to the side and walk off, feeling his eyes burning holes on the back of my head. The feeling goes away immediately after getting on the elevator. I click on the the button to go to the third floor. The last few minutes of my shift I will have to check on a patient called Javana, who to my knowledge is someone like me, a psychic.

  -Ding-

  The elevator doors open, some of the personnel around me step off the elevator and onto the second floor. The doors close and the elevator lurched upward, the few of us in here for a few seconds free falling.

  -Ding-

  The doors open again, the last of us stepping onto the third floor. Her room number is 300, which lies till the very end of the hallway, with the spotty lights. Oh, did I ever tell you that I still fear the dark. Yeah.

  I walk on, trudging through patients, nurses, doctors. A lot of them, by the looks on their faces have been here a long time. I have always been lucky and only had shifts that last as long as twenty-four hours. There are some people here who work up to 72 hours straight.

  I knock on the door. I can enter, but as courtesy I always knock, because you will be surprised what we nurses and doctors sometimes catch our patients doing. Believe me, catching them on the act of sex is not even weird any more. There are stranger stuff.

  “Yes?”

  “Can I come in?” I ask. “Sure, come on in,” Javana responds. I open the door, Javana looking at me. I walk in, and head over to stand next to her. She turns her head away and looks out the window. Out of the corner of my eyes, I watch her. She is completely still. She looks so calm and grounded.

  “Is everything alright?” she asks, snapping me out of my reverence as she looks up at me.

  I nod.

  “I am just checking on you one last time before you have to leave. At seven o’clock right?” She turns her sight from me and looks out the window, nodding.

  “Do you by any chance know if Hector is coming back?”

  Her question catches me off guard. How does she know him? I thought when he left, he was going to go talk with the detective.

  “I do not know. I am sorry I do not have a clear answer for you,” I respond.

  She looks at me before turning her sights to the parking lot again. I take the last notes on her chart and begin to leave.

  “You are like me, a psychic.”

  I turn around and face her. I nod. “I know you are a psychic too, Javana,” I say.

  “Maybe you can help us…”

  She looks out the window again, as she says that.

  “Help you with what?” I ask.

  “With the faceless man in the hotel,” she responds.

  Chills crawl throughout my body. How did she know about the hotel? I just turn around and leave. I lean against the door for a few seconds, a thousand thoughts running through my head. I thought that vision was just something that happened, an illusion maybe. Yet, from what Javana asked and told me, The Saxon Hotel is real. Why would she and Hector need help? Who is the faceless man?

  “Are you alright?”

  I jump, before turning to look at the source of the question. Hector stood there, looking at me with those devilish eyes that seemed to look right through me.

  “Who is the faceless man?” I ask, the question somehow finding its way through my lips.

  I am so frustrated. I am so tired. I have not slept in more than 24 hours. I have witnessed so much suffering and pain, and the endless sight of ghosts and spirits with their cries of agony and for help, it weighs so heavy on my heart.

  “It seems Javana told you…,” he says.

  I nod.

  “Is the detective a psychic too?”

  He nods.

  “She was almost murdered by the faceless man, Erick. Except Javana intervened, and even was able to rescue me by freeing me from its control,” Hector tells me.

  “It does not help explain what that has to do with me--”

  “I do not know,” he says.

  “What do you know?” I ask, sounding angrier than I actually was. He inhales and exhales, suddenly the curiosity in his eyes replaced by exhaustion.

  “All I know, is that place in which this thing exists is just a temporary stop,” he says, as he walks past me and opens Javana’s room door. He looks back at me and nods, gesturing for me to follow. I really wanted to just leave, get home, and before I fall asleep to drink hot coffee or hot chocolate. But as I made my way forward and entered the room, do I realize that I am more curious than tired.

  Javana looks at us both as Hector makes his way towards her left. I just stand before the foot of the bed.

  “You came back, Hector,” Javana says as she looks at him. He nods. She turns to me and gives me the faintest of nods. I return the gesture.

  “Can I come in?”

  I look towards the door. “Come in,” says Javana. A woman with brown hair comes in, her hand around the metal pole as a bag of fluids is being injected through an I.V. There are dark bags under her eyes, and her skin is lightly pale from the lack of sun. You do not have to be in one of these rooms for long for you to start to transform into a vampire. Really, you do not.

  “Who is this chump?” she says as she looks at me, her hazel eyes bearing a disturbed and wild resonance.

  “A better question, who are you?” I counter.

  “She is Detective Ariel, the investigator who is, well, investigating the case left behind by Detective Knox.”

  We both stop looking at each other and look at Hector instead. Is
he not faced by any of this anymore? The ghosts. The spirits. The agony, pain, and even the hatred in their voice as they ask for help.

  “I personally still am having a hard time believing any of this,” Detective Ariel says. “Yet, no matter how much I have tried, I cannot get that thing I saw out of my head.”

  Hector just nods.

  “So, you called me here Hector, for what?”

  Hector just looks at her, then at me, and then at Javana. “I wanted to ask if we all could help each other,” he says.

  “Tell us what you know,” Detective Ariel says.

  He just looks at her for a few seconds, before his voice breaks the heavy silence around us. “There have been thousands of cases throughout the world of this entity revolving unsolved murders and disappearances. At first, through the articles and people I contacted, I thought it was some sort of curse. Yet, the murders and disappearances are random. Then I thought it might be a demon or a vengeful spirit, but demons and spirits are driven by purpose. Even if it just to kill for pleasure. This thing that at some point people all over the internet started to call Slenderman, really just attacked at random.”

  “Then what brought you here?” Detective Ariel asks. “How did you know it would arrive here?”

  “I did not. Like I said, it appears and attacks at random,” he says. “I came here because I was offered an internship at a processing facility, under South Texas College as an IT. Within the year, they kept me as a part-timer. In that time, I came to understand that New-York was a whole different ball game than Texas, where ghosts, spirits, and other “supernatural” things are like going into a city and be surprised because you actually saw a man riding a horse. Here in New-York, everywhere that I turned to I saw a ghost, a spirit, and even low level demons.”

  “What does that--” Hector raises his hand, interrupting Detective Ariel.

  “South Texas College, which was at the time paying for my room and board. When I completed my year, and the head of that processing facility decided to keep me permanently, I no longer qualified for my expenses to be paid for. I had to go look for an apartment. As a part-time I.T., I got paid well but not well enough to afford some of the apartments I visited. One day, as I was scouring the city, I came upon an old apartment complex, and its name--”