Chapter 2
TWO | KATE
I’m not gullible.
I’m not.
But I also believe in gut instincts, and mine is one hundred percent telling me that they aren’t bull shitting me. Jeremy’s words toxically churn in my stomach.
“You don’t know the real story about Lachlan Park, do you?”
I stare at Jeremy curiously, waiting for him to divulge the information that’s sitting eagerly on his tongue as he studies my expression.
I’m not scared of a little ghost story.
There’s only one thing that terrifies me, and I’m hoping he’s thousands of miles away and not tracking my scent like a shark trailing its prey’s blood drifting through dark waters.
We work at an amusement park. Which I assume means that since this place is over ninety years old, there were some deaths back in the day from poorly constructed rides, and those unfortunate souls haunt the park.
That’s what I expect him to say.
What I’m not anticipating coming out of his mouth is, “Have you ever heard of The Evisceration Cellar?”
Evisceration…as in the harvesting and removal of organs?
The low thrumming of my heartbeat fills my ears, competing with the awful music we have on repeat for the ride. My chest rises and falls a little heavier now. Why am I breathing faster?
I gulp down the unanticipated nerves prickling my throat. “No.”
The smirk on Nicole’s face irritates me more than it should. I’m going to be extremely pissed off if they are messing with me. I’m the most recent hire to work with them; there was bound to be some joking and humiliation at some point. If this is a light hazing, I damn well don’t appreciate it.
My already fragile psyche doesn’t have the capacity to deal with this, too.
Nicole’s petite frame can’t conceal her excitement. She’s bouncing with eagerness. “Have you ever stopped to listen after you close down the ride and turn off the audio after your shift?”
My eyes bounce between them inquisitively.
“Like really listen,” Jeremy adds for extra measure. “Sometimes you can hear muted screams that seep through walls.”
“This is an amusement park,” I remind them, annoyed. “People scream on rides all the time.”
He shakes his head leisurely in a way that appears mechanical. “They’re faint. More like roars from pain and torture. They can be almost unrecognizable unless you know what you’re listening for—”
“Get on with it already!” My sudden outburst makes him grin wider.
“Okay, okay. I didn’t learn about it until my second summer working here. Do you at least know about the massacres?”
God. So much for getting out of here on time.
I should leave. I really should.
I may regret it later, but instead, I shake my head.
Nicole is listening as intently as I am, though I know she already knows where this is going.
“Wow, you know nothing,” he sighs, running a hand over his jaw in exasperation.
If it's that much of a hassle to tell me, then he should just let me go home. But for some reason, my feet are firmly planted on the concrete floor, and I’m a little more interested in this story than I wish I were.
“Guess it's not surprising since you haven’t been working here long. Three massacres happened in the park.”
That catches me off guard. Three? It seems excessive considering this park is still as popular as it is.
“One in the 1950s, another in the 1980s, and the most recent one was about five years ago. The one that happened five years ago was the biggest. Twelve people were shot in the middle of the night, where the old rollercoaster was at the edge of the park before they rebuilt it. The other murders before that were one or two people in the middle of the night when the park was closed.” He inhales, shaking his head like he’s trying to add to the horrifying factor of this story.
That’s what this is—a story.
Jeremy continues. “It’s rumored that someone saw what happened.
They watched as their bloody bodies were dragged off through the night to one of the nearby buildings.
The incident was reported to local authorities, but by the time they arrived, the park was spotless. Not a trace of blood left behind.”
Nicole joins in now, “The next day, multiple workers came forward saying they heard disturbing screams coming from somewhere nearby. But when they checked it out, the sounds weren’t coming from anywhere around them.
It’s not until they listened more closely and followed the noises that they realized it was coming from the air vents. They were being tortured.”
My brows pull together. Despite my best effort, my voice shakes. “They?”
“Some of those people were still alive when someone dragged them off,” Jeremy clarifies.
The gears in my head are running on overdrive. I swear Jeremy and Nicole are waiting for the moment when they finally burn out and smoke starts billowing out of my ears before they yell, “Just kidding!”
But they don’t. I analyze their body language, and the seriousness there is unsettling.
The pieces start clicking into place. “You said people call it The Evisceration Cellar.” My face contorts into disgust. “There’s a conspiracy theory that they were removing the organs of those people who were shot?”
Jeremy's lips twitch as he nods.
I blow out a raspberry. “You guys are so full of shit.”
His hands rise in front of him, palms facing me as if I offended him. “Hey, I didn’t come up with the story.”
“There’s no way that someone is doing that under the park. Or was doing that.” My argument feels weak somehow.
But people can be disguised as monsters, Kate.
Don’t forget that and let your guard down.
I don’t want to believe it.
It’s preposterous.
Eccentric and immoral in ways that knot my own organs into balls I’ll never untangle, just pondering the visuals of it all.
And I was a nurse.
My stomach can handle a lot, but this is another level that will make me physically ill if I think too much about it, since exposure to a blade while being cognizant is something I’m familiar with and wish I weren’t.
I can tell myself that it's implausible all I want to. Still, it doesn’t calm the hungry, curious part that wants to dive deeper into the theory—the history of a place that appears joyful on the surface but may be concealing something darker beneath.
“It’s said that they are still trapped under the park and that you can hear their souls crying out for help if you listen closely enough. I’ve heard them.” I don’t like the way Jeremy says that arrogantly, like he should win a trophy for having the ears of a damn bat.
“That’s it?” I say. “That’s the story?”
“Mostly.” Nicole picks at her pink neon nail polish, a telltale sign she’s procrastinating because she doesn’t want to clean the floor.
It’s not my fault she wanted to make a bet and lost. “But some people still think there’s a secret floor underneath the park that is being used for organ trafficking for the black market. ”
A giggle bubbles out of my throat. Yeah. Sure. I move toward the door that Jeremy came out of, which leads to the break room at the back of the large building we share with a few other restaurants and storefronts. “All right, I’ve had enough of this.”
“We’re not joking with you, Kate. It’s true,” she pushes. “You should ask Vincent about it the next time you see him. He’s been here longer than any of us and was working here in the 80s, and when those twelve people were shot and disappeared five years ago.”
My nose wrinkles. Nothing against Vincent, but he’s ominous.
My pulse accelerates whenever I see him for some reason, and I’m not sure why.
Sure, I have exchanged some one-word greetings with the man, but there’s something off about him that puts me on edge and makes me want to avoid elongating my interactions.
“You’ve talked to him about it?” I ask.
Nicole’s shudder is a little exaggerated if you ask me. “Hell no. He gives me the creeps.”
She’s not wrong. Those hard, gunmetal eyes set under bushy brows contain a world of stories that I’m not sure I want to hear.
Most people avoid him for a reason, and I just suspect I should, too.
But it doesn’t stop me from giving him a gentle wave when I’m leaving after my shift, and he comes to clean. I’m not a total bitch.
“Thanks for the remarkably believable ghost story,” I deadpan, pointing at the door, “but I think I’m going to head out.” I cluck my tongue. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
I register their whispering voices behind my back as I push past the door and walk to the break room to gather my things from my locker.
When I enter the small space, it’s still. Quiet compared to the thoughts creating discord in my head.
I won’t entertain the idea.
That thought lasts about two seconds before I inhale a deep breath. My eyes flutter closed, my ears adjusting to sense every sound that reaches me.
I tell myself it's not true.
However, it still doesn’t stop me from wondering if a world exists beneath my shoes. A hidden place harboring an evil that will fuel my already bone-chilling nightmares the moment sleep drags me under.