Chapter Three. #2
“Perhaps she objects to our presence. Could she feel threatened?” Bunny questioned.
“Good point. Let’s leave the REM Pod here and go outside and call to her,” I agreed. We moved several rooms away, and Connor spoke again. The REM Pod lit up and released a long squeal.
“Hi!” Connor called in return.
“I swear I just saw a shadow move,” Freddie said. “Harry, can you check the room next to ninety-A?”
“Will do,” Harry replied.
“What is your name? How old are you? Why were you here?” Connor continued to ask the basic questions before pausing and playing back the audio.
“Samantha.” The whisper was faint, so Connor rewound and replayed the video.
“Yeah, that’s Samantha,” I confirmed.
“Eighteen.”
“Damn, she was a teenager?” Bunny exclaimed, affronted.
“They were women back then,” I said, and Bunny wrinkled her nose.
Samantha didn’t answer Connor’s other questions, but a word floated back to us.
“Fun!”
“You say hi because it’s fun?” I sought clarification.
The REM Pod screeched.
“Do you enjoy frightening the living?” Bunny asked, and there was silence.
“Samantha, may I call you that?” The REM Pod squealed at Connor, and he smiled. “Do you like people knowing you’re around?”
The REM Pod answered yes.
“Are visitors okay if they’re respectful?”
Samantha answered my question with a resounding yes.
“You don’t like rude people, though, do you? I don’t either,” Bunny offered, and the REM Pod shrieked briefly.
“I’m going to check the voice recordings,” I said and played it back. There was nothing until Bunny spoke.
“She takes care of rudeness towards us.” The words came back faint but clearly.
“She? Who’s she?” Bunny exclaimed.
“The dark presence I sense?” Connor suggested.
“Samantha, who is she, please?” I called out.
The REM Pod remained quiet, and we exchanged glances. Something had changed in here, and everybody sensed it.
“Harry here. Freddie, you caught a figure briefly popping her head out of the room. Judging by the shape and the face, it is female.” Harry’s voice cackled over the radio.
“Thanks, Harry,” I replied.
“The atmosphere has changed, and we’ve dropped another ten degrees,” Connor stated.
“Should we break out the SLS camera?” Freddie asked.
“What does that do?” Bunny inquired.
“It uses infrared signals and can pick up spirits. It makes them look like stick figures, but lets us see them,” Freddie explained.
“Cool, do you have it on you? Can I try?”
Freddie grinned, and Bunny pulled it from her backpack. It took a few moments to set it up, and the whole time, the temperature kept dropping until we could see our breath in the air.
“There you go. Move slowly and see what you can find,” Freddie instructed as she took her normal camera back from Connor.
Bunny moved around gradually, and I watched over her shoulder.
“Samantha, do you see the object Bunny is holding? That’s called an SLS camera, and it allows us to see where you’re standing,” I explained.
Bunny continued to move, but I glanced at Samantha’s room. “Bunny, focus there,” I whispered, pointing.
An O shape formed when Bunny turned in surprise.
“Yeah, I see it too!” I murmured.
Standing just inside the door was a female figure with long hair. She wore an old-fashioned dress, and while we could make out her outline, her features were hard to discern.
“Look!” Bunny cried, and I saw a stick figure appear exactly where the ghost stood.
“Hel-lo!” she called in a singsong voice before fading.
“Shit!” Bunny exclaimed, and I chuckled.
“Amazing, isn’t it?” Connor said, and she nodded.
“That was a real ghost. I didn’t believe in them until yesterday, and I have to admit, I thought that would get debunked. But this? Nah, ghosts are real!” Bunny continued in excitement.
“Find the lost.” A wail made us jump. The hair on my body stood on end as the mood dropped. Everything faded to sadness, misery, and pain. Darkness came over the ward as we huddled together. Something didn’t want us here; I felt like it was trying to push us out.
“We mean you no harm,” I called.
“Lies.”
“No, please, we just want to talk. But if you’d like us to leave—”
“Go. Run. Flee. Death. Kill. Murder. Lost.” The words battered us, and I stepped back.
“We’ll take our REM Pod and go,” I said.
“Hate. Lust. Stab. Blood. Die. Forgotten. Used. Abused.” The words kept coming, and I shuddered.
“This isn’t just one person; there are many voices,” Connor murmured and jumped.
“Connor?” I asked.
“I just got scratched,” he replied.
“Okay, we’re leaving,” I called. “Don’t hurt us because we don’t mean you harm!”
I darted into Samantha’s room and grabbed the REM Pod.
“Sorry. Protection,” Samantha whispered.
“It’s okay, Samantha, thank you for talking to us,” I responded. For a moment, I felt a cold hand on my shoulder, and Bunny squealed before it faded.
“Something appeared and touched you!” she cried.
“Let’s hit the command post, and we’ll check the footage there,” I said.
“Wow, do you know it’s nearly two o’clock?” Bunny asked as we left.
“That went fast!” I replied, surprised.
“We were in there for hours,” Connor stated as he checked his watch. “Didn’t seem that time had passed so quickly.”
“No,” I agreed.
Pyro
Sunny led the way into the manager’s quarters. Immediately, I didn’t like the area. There was a strange atmosphere in the apartment. It seemed evil had soaked into the very walls. I wasn’t the only one experiencing this.
“This is very wrong,” Jack stated as we glanced around.
The condition didn’t help matters much either. There was rubbish scattered across the floor; bones lay in one corner, and it smelt of urine and shit. Any furniture present was broken or ruined. The kitchen had cupboards ripped off the walls, and the appliances were smashed.
“What the hell happened here?” I inquired, looking around.
“It appears vandals got in,” Jack replied.
“What was this guy’s story?” Sunny asked.
“He ran the women’s home for unmarried mothers.
Figures state that over five thousand young women and girls were sent here during its ten-year stint.
Although some believe twice as many remained here.
It held girls from all walks of life, wealthy and needy and from across the country.
Once here, they gave birth and, in the instance of the rich, were returned home immediately without the baby.
People experiencing poverty stayed a while and worked at the attached farm before having their child adopted and being kicked out.
Some ended up pregnant again during their stay here,” Harry elaborated.
“What the hell?” I exclaimed in horror.
“Abuse and sexual assault were rife, the women had no rights, and the asshole men abused that, and them,” Harry added.
“This wasn’t vandals. Check the walls,” Sunny said, and I did. Words were scrawled across it, making my inner self sit up and take notice. It didn’t matter—Justice wouldn’t be able to claim revenge, as this man was long dead.
“Murderer, rapist, abuser, villain, sodomiser, attacker. Jesus,” Jack murmured. “I don’t think a living human wrote those.”
“How did this asshole die?” I asked.
“Badly,” Harry’s voice came over the radio. Clearly, he’d been monitoring us.
“Harry?” Jack said.
“Edwin Lawson died in an asylum, driven crazy by the female ghosts that tormented him.
Reports say that his victims returned and took their revenge in death.
Lawson became insane and claimed that spirits haunted him.
But it gets stranger. Lawson was reported to be wearing a straitjacket, yet scratches appeared on him.
Bruises would form even when he was in a padded cell.
“Worse, Edwin would scream all hours of the night, stating that the women were torturing him like he did them. Edwin made many confessions about his crimes, but they couldn’t prosecute him for two reasons.”
“Which were?” I demanded as Justice lifted his head. I shoved him back down ruthlessly. We didn’t need Justice running around with his brand of vengeance.
“One, Lawson had gone crazy, so wasn’t judged fit to stand trial,” Harry replied.
“The second reason?” Jack asked.
“Nobody ever found the bodies of his victims.”