Chapter 16
CHAPTER
SIXTEEN
Nigel stifled a sigh at the over-the-top name. “There’s nothing demonic about it,” he said in response to Chris’s alarmed expression. “For one thing, it’s uncertain that non-human spirits—demons—even exist.”
“Are we going to get dragged into hell like with the Ouija board?” they asked, arching a brow.
Now Nigel did let out a snort of irritation. “It was a spirit board, not a Ouija board, and the only thing we talked to was the ghost of one of Oscar’s ancestors. A murderous ancestor, but still. No hell-dragging involved.”
“Yeah, don’t worry about it.” Zeek shot finger-guns at Chris for some reason. “We’ve got it all under control.”
“Now I’m really worried,” they muttered.
Adrienne huffed. “Just wait five minutes and let us film the intro. If you still have questions after, we’ll answer them.”
Zeek hurried to mount their camera on a tripod, making sure the box was in view, then joined Adrienne beside it. “We’ve got a brand-new tool tonight, just for this investigation,” he said to the camera. “We’ve had it for a while, but never had to chance to use it. But here at the Howlston Lunatic Asylum, that’s about to change.”
“The spirit of the angry nurse is too dangerous to leave loose.” Adrienne took up the narrative without missing a beat. “That’s why we’ve brought out…the Devil’s Toy Box.”
“Hell, yeah!” Zeek exclaimed.
Nigel rolled his eyes. If this device proved worth further investigation, he’d have to call it something less colorful, lest the name alone get him laughed out of the Institute.
Adrienne opened the box’s lid, revealing the interior. Every surface—top, bottom, and all four sides—was lined with a mirror.
“Ghosts use mirrors like portals,” Adrienne went on. “Mirrors facing each other can make more powerful portals and allow ghosts to travel back and forth between them. But here, every surface is a mirror. The ghost can travel from one to the next, but when the lid is closed, any other route is shut off. They’re stuck, ping-ponging from one mirror to the next with no way out.”
Not to mention, the silver backing on the mirror would turn the box into a Faraday cage as soon as the lid was closed. Nigel restrained himself from interjecting that fact into their video with some effort.
“All we need to do is lure the ghost inside,” Adrienne went on.
“With what?” Zeek asked. “Candy? That’d work on me.”
She let out a fake laugh. “Not candy. What ghosts want is energy. We’re going to put a candle inside the box and ask her to draw energy from it, just as we did with the mirror seance last night.”
They cut. “Any questions?” Adrienne asked the rest of them.
“How will you know she’s in there?” Oscar asked.
“Hopefully the SLS will show her.” Adrienne took out an EMF reader and placed it on the floor next to the box. “And if not, the EMF should alert us. If she’s in the box when we close it, the EMF reader should stop showing a signal.”
“Oh!” Zeek snapped his fingers. “Oscar, why don’t you join us? You’re a medium—maybe that will come in handy?”
“I’m not sure?” Oscar bit his lip.
“Come on—it’ll be fun!”
Adrienne sighed heavily. “Zeek…?”
“What? This is a collab, isn’t it?”
“It’s okay,” Oscar started, at the same time Adrienne flung up her hands.
“Fine! We’re collaborating. Might as well make it official.” She put her hands on her hips. “But I’m going to draw up a contract that covers revenue sharing and who has what rights to what video.”
If she meant to put him off, she succeeded in the opposite. “That’s smart,” Oscar said. “Always get agreements in writing. Okay, I’ll see what I can do.”
“We’ll shoot an intro for you later, outside the asylum,” Zeek said. “This is going to be sick!”
The three of them arranged themselves on the floor around the mirrored box, and Adrienne put her EMF reader beside it. “Turn off all the lights except for the cameras,” she instructed. “Everyone ready? Okay—let’s start.”
She took out a white tea candle and placed it carefully in the box, before igniting it with a long-necked lighter. “Spirit of Della Young,” she said in a clear, firm voice, “we want to communicate with you. Use the energy from this candle to speak with us.”
Nigel peered at the SLS camera’s screen over Chris’s shoulder as they panned it slowly around the room. It detected the figures of Oscar, Adrienne, and Zeek, superimposing digital stick figures over their forms.
“Nothing on camera yet,” he reported.
Adrienne looked to Oscar, who cleared his throat. His expression eased—no doubt he was centering and grounding himself before reaching out to the nurse.
Who was a very dangerous spirit. Nigel slipped his hand into his pocket, reassuring himself it was full of salt. If it even looked like she was going to try to hurt Oscar, he’d hit her with everything he had.
“Della Young,” Oscar said, “I know you’re watching us. You’re angry, and you don’t want us here. Come closer and show yourself to us.”
The EMF reader beeped and lit up—green, then yellow.
On the SLS screen, a stick figure stepped into the room.
“She’s here,” Nigel said, voice tight.
Oscar’s heart pounded, so he took a deep breath, reaching for calm. “Where?”
“Near the door,” Chris reported.
Adrienne licked her lips, as if they’d gone suddenly dry. “Is that you, Della? Can you come closer?”
Nigel’s weight shifted, as if he wanted to hurry to Oscar’s side, but he stayed where he was. “She’s moving toward you.”
The temperature plunged, and the EMF reader spiked up to orange. All of the hairs on Oscar’s arm stood on end—there was something dangerous near, something he couldn’t see, and all his instincts warned him to get the hell out of there.
Zeek’s eyes were wide, the white showing around the iris, but his voice only shook a little when he said, “What are you so mad about, Della? Do you want us to leave?”
“Get out,” snarled a voice in the flat tones of the dead.
A wave of anger and despair crashed into Oscar, but he forced himself to remain still and solid. To let it pass around him, like water around a rock. “I feel her anger,” he reported. “She?—”
“She’s heading for the static—” Chris said in alarm, a second before Zeek and Adrienne’s static cam went crashing onto its side.
Zeek flinched, but Adrienne remained steady. “Are you trying to scare us?” she asked, voice shaking a little. “Well, it’s not working! We’re not going anywhere.”
A surge of anger pummeled Oscar like a fist, but underneath was something else. Fear?
If she had been an angel of death, maybe she was afraid of being exposed, even now?
“We know an unusual number of patients died while you were here,” he said. “That was your fault, wasn’t it?”
Rage, so white-hot it took his breath away. The EMF reader flashed to red and stayed there, its shrill beeping a warning scream.
“Look out,” Chris began, but before they could finish, one of the chairs flew into the wall so hard it left a dent in the plaster.
“Salt!” Nigel yelled.
“No!” Adrienne’s skin was pale with fear, but both she and Zeek stayed where they were. “Keep going! Let her throw her tantrum.”
An old table lamp slid off a side table and smashed on the ground. The air grew cold, then even colder, until Oscar could see his breath crystallize in the shifting light of the candle. Shadows seemed to circle around them, held back only by the fragile flame.
“She’s coming close to Zeek,” Nigel warned. “She’s reaching out a hand.”
Zeek jerked. “She touched my neck!”
“Nice try, but not enough,” Adrienne called. “We’re not—ahh!”
An invisible hand grabbed a lock of her long hair and yanked it upward. She grabbed wildly, trying to fight off her attacker, but there was nothing physical to grab on to.
“Adrienne!” Chris took a step toward them, but Oscar flung out his hand and they stopped.
This was starting to go too far. Putting all the power he could into his voice, Oscar said, “Spirit! Your time is over. Leave this place, and trouble the living no more!”
The ghost’s attention fell across him like a physical weight—but Adrienne’s hair tumbled back to her shoulder. At least she was focused on him alone now.
“Oscar, she’s leaning over you now,” Nigel warned.
An icy breath feathered over the back of his neck. She was there, right there, even if he couldn’t see her. Instinctive fear clawed at his throat, but he visualized his old football gear around him, armoring him against attack.
“She’s leaning closer,” Chris said. “Closer…”
She was stooped right over him. She’d killed Trey as a ghost, and god knew how many others as a living woman. Did she intend he’d be next?
The candle flame flickered.
Chris’s voice was almost a whisper, as if afraid the ghost would change her mind if she heard him. “She’s going for the box.”
A mist formed before Oscar’s eyes, so faint he doubted anyone not attuned to ghostly energies would have been able to see it. It thickened around the flame, which shrank closer and closer to the wick?—
“She’s in!” Nigel shouted.
Adrienne slammed the lid shut.
The EMF reader instantly fell silent. The sense of anger beating against Oscar’s skin vanished as well. Slowly the air began to warm again, and the atmosphere of the room felt somehow lighter.
“Did it work?” Zeek asked.
Oscar nodded. “It worked.”
Nigel ran over, dropped to his knees, and hugged him. “That was terrifying. Are you all right?”
Oscar leaned into the embrace for a moment, before gently pulling away. “I’m fine.”
Adrienne took out another candle, this one black, and lit it. Holding it at an angle, she carefully dripped the wax onto the edges of the box’s lid to seal it shut.
Zeek bounded to his feet. “Fuck yeah! We did it.” He held up a hand to Chris, who reluctantly high-fived him. “I can’t wait to see the footage. The fans are going to go crazy!”