“This is not good.”
As she watched the two men struggle to climb out of the hole they’d fallen into, Claire pondered her options. She’d been thrilled when the two people who were trying to restore this godforsaken place had left, hoping that they’d taken the hints to leave. They’d lasted longer than any of the other thrill seekers had; the man in particular had been stubborn, but once she’d grabbed the woman by the throat, she hadn’t seen either of them back. She’d hoped that would end it.
And then the new people had shown up, and they were...different. Not worse, but Claire wasn’t sure what they were doing. As long as they’d been content to wander with their cameras, she’d stayed in the background. After all, all they were doing was looking.
Until the watcher had reported the ghost walker. And she’d seen herself that some of the others were starting to wake up. And make mischief.
Such as the camera. One of the children had removed it from its stand, bringing it down to the abandoned lab to look at it. If only they’d unplugged it - then she could have continued to hide the underground rooms. But now, the mortals would be looking for more underground secrets. And that she couldn’t have.
She slipped away to her sanctum before the children found her and started asking questions again. There were things she had to decide.
The little tower room, hidden from everyone but her, welcomed her back in, enfolding her in the secure knowledge that no one could get in to her. Claire had found the room soon after the last treatment she could remember. It was the only place she’d felt safe, hiding from the hungry darkness. And she’d found the watcher there.
It wasn’t there now, but that wasn’t surprising. The watcher, true to its nature, needed to watch over the grounds when there were mortals there, patrolling, like an automaton programmed by someone long gone. Still, she felt a slight pang. It would have been good to talk out the issues with someone.
Instead, Claire sat herself on the little cot under the northern window, drawing her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs. There was a lot of thinking to do.
<><>
“My god. You weren’t kidding.”
Sapph, Amari, and Gwen stood in the doorway of the records room, looking into the vast catacomb of book shelves. There was a single window visible but so grimy that it let only a diffused light in to illuminate the files. The scent of old paper filled her nostrils, and Sapph wondered if maybe investing in masks might not be a bad idea.
“It’s like they just saw the last patient off, locked the doors, and walked away,” Amari said, shining her flashlight beam over the nearest shelving unit.
“Which is apparently what they did, from what Pat was able to find,” Gwen said, stepping in. “The oldest stuff is down this way. I’m not sure if they ever even starting saving anything to a computer. We haven’t found any computer equipment, anyways.” She led them down the southeastern wall, deeper into the gloom.
Sapph shone her flashlight up to see the empty tubes of old fluorescent lights marching in orderly rows. “Isn’t that odd for a hospital in the 1980s?”
“Yes. Honestly, what most likely happened is that the computers were the one thing they took. Ah, here we are.”
Gwen had led them to an old bookcase that sagged against the farthest wall, lit only by a feeble ray of sunlight that had managed to penetrate the dust and dirt on a tiny window. Instead of charts in folders, there were books, bound in what Sapph assumed were leather. Amari lifted one down with reverence.
“Look at this,” she said, opening it. Sapph trained her flashlight on it. The pages were full of elegant handwriting. “Either the doctors actually had penmanship that today’s doctors are lacking, or they had a secretary.”
“Or both,” Gwen said, chuckling.
There was another chuckle, very low, from somewhere in the darkness of the room, and Bear growled deep in his throat. All three of them swung their flashlights around, but nothing moved except dust.
“Audio phenomena. Awesome.” Gwen’s voice crackled with excitement. “Where’s the digital recorder? Let’s do an EVP session.” She looked at Sapph. “Or did you want to switch?”
Sapph paused, torn. “I shouldn’t,” she finally said reluctantly. “I can’t speak to either of you from the Ghostlands, and if something should happen--”
“Scottie will skin us all,” Amari finished for her. “Here, take the book. I’ve got a recorder in my pocket.”
Gwen took the book and placed it back on the bookcase. Amari pulled the small recorder out and said, “Sapph, Amari, and Gwen, Day 1, in the records room.”
“Who are you?” Gwen asked, looking around with her flashlight. Sapph noticed how the darkness seemed to eat the beam as it moved away from them. “What did you do here at the hospital?”
“Were you a patient?” Amari asked, after a few moments of silence. “What is your name?”
Bear growled again, and Sapph felt the phantom fingers of the Ghostwind trail across her face. “Something’s definitely here,” she said.
“Are you attached to the books?” Amari said. “Did you want us to find something specific?”
There was a loud BANG from behind them and they all spun around to see one of the leather-bound books on the floor.
“Well, well, well, what have we here?” Gwen knelt down by the book, which had been hollowed out in the middle. Nestled within the hiding place was a smaller leather-bound book with the initials FDH in faded gold on the cover. She pulled the book out, opened it, and sneezed. “Besides the dust of centuries?”
“More importantly, why was it hidden?” Sapph said, peering over her shoulder.
Gwen scanned several of the pages quickly. Unlike the ledger book, the writing was spidery and spiked, in dark ink, interspersed with line drawings. “It’s a personal journal, from what I can tell,” she said. “Let’s take it back with us. I want to have the chance to really delve into it.”
“Before we go back, let’s listen to this,” Amari said, as Gwen slipped the small book into the pocket of her hoodie. She stopped the recorder, rewound the file, and then pressed play.
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