No.
No.
Really, are you kidding me? No! I tossed the letter in my hand over to the discarded pile of letters and unopened envelopes. This task was becoming monstrous, as was the pile of letters growing in the corner of my office. Another letter tossed to the side, and I growled.
Years. I've been searching haunted house for years, and the moment that I need one, I can't find one. Not one that actually gives me cause to search, or want to be apart of the ghost hunting team that I had formed years ago. I stared at the equally impressive amount of letters still sitting on my desk, sigh on the tip of my lips.
I knew on the other side of my desk sat my resignation letter. Pretty and proper, something that I would not be considered, but it was. Ready to be handed in when the failure of the case that I knew this was going to become was over. I had thought about this for over a year, nearly four years after gaining a T.V. Show on the new cable channel dedicated to horror. Back then, I had no idea that I would want to walk away from the very thing that gave me life.
I propped my arms on the table, and rested my head in my hands. I just want this over with. I just want this all to stop being as complicated as it's become. I want to go back to the time when Night Terrors found the ghosts, not made them for ratings. I glanced around the office that I'd basically lived in for years. Papers, news clippings, an old poster...Shane, Ian, Jake and I, the team.
Shane, with his bad boy look, let his hair rest in a ponytail. The deep black color would give his hair an unrealistic look that many thought was fake. His tan skin was hindered by the lack of sun, though he blames that on me working him too hard, and his pitch black shirt and pants. His black shirt clung to his skinny ass tightly in the picture, his black boots adding to the mystery that was Shane. His sparkling blue eyes held a mysterious glint to them, along with playfulness. His lips tilted up in to a smirk and his arms crossed. I knew now that there is tattoo on his shoulder blade of a celtic cross, and on his back of a dream catcher. The mixed heritage that he brought to the group led to his exotic look and many debates on whether he was altered. But that was all Shane. He was my partner in crime, and my co-host. He's the one I went to when I made this group. I sighed. That was before we got famous, before I lost my love for the paranormal. No, I didn't lose my love for the paranormal. I lost the realness of the paranormal to the fashion of television. It didn't matter in the picture though. That was when we found real ghosts, not the skeletons in family closets.
Shane leaned against Ian, arm propped up on his shoulder, Shane's smile cocked to the side. His arm covered in the wildness that was Ian's brunette hair. In the picture, it was long, everywhere, and untamed. Even after several attempts to fix it, and even cutting it short, he still couldn't control the mess that was his hair. His brown eyes were dull, and average, but glittered with the need for action giving life to them. Unlike Shane, Ian doesn't smile. He gives you this irritating smirk that seems to tell you that he knows more than you do, and even in the picture, his smirk told all. His forest green shirt stuck out amongst the black of the picture, and did not accent his already deeply pale arms that rest by his side. His jeans were loose, though you wouldn't notice it from the way he propped his foot up against the wall in the picture. He was the smallest of the guys, with me being the shortest of the group. He was tiny compared to the other two men, but he was almost always the first one on the scene of a “mysterious” activity. That boy had more balls than half the guys I know.
I let my eyes wander over the rest of the picture. Jake was leaning against the wall, both legs down, and one arm wrapped around the picture me. His long dirty blonde hair came to his shoulders, loose, accenting his slightly tan face and body. His eyes glowed green with a hardness most would find a turn off, but it gave notice to his very hard sturdy body in the picture. His navy blue shirt fit in with the darkness of the picture, but did nothing to make him pale, quite the opposite, it darkened him just slightly. He wore black pants,and white sneakers offsetting the rest of the picture totally. Jake didn't seem to fit with the group, but it worked in the picture. It heightened the mystery in the picture. It wasn't as mysterious as it seemed. He came on our team just before we got famous, so he didn't have as much experience as we did with the paranormal. He's great with a computer though, and helped develop a lot of the techniques that we use.
Then there was me, Blair Robertson. The only female in the group, and stated, the most popular female ghost hunter known. While my hair is black in the photo, it was now multicolored. My black was only visible to accent the rainbow that rested on my back now. It was blown back in the picture by an imaginary wind, but my straight hair rested on my back any other time. My black dress started under my arms, and stopped just above my knee, but you wouldn't have known whether I had straps or not, thanks to Jake’s arm being in the way. The black of the dress made my already pale skin near death pale, but that's what the photographers were aiming for. The light the photographer used made my unusually bright brown eyes glow like tigers eyes. I wore knee high stiletto boots that added height to me and made my 5'7” body frame about even with the over 6' tall boys. My hand reached out in the picture, as if reaching for something, grasping for something that wasn't there. It looked amazing in the picture, but was really me almost falling from the weight of the man on my shoulders.
Underneath the picture of us, in big bold letters was Night Terrors, the name of our team, and our show that aired on Thursdays at nine o'clock. My eyes lingered on the name. That name meant something to me. It was basis of where my life would lead. It would lead to the destruction of the team.
I looked down at the letter asking for us to come to their home once again, and sighed, tossing it in to the ever growing no pile, I had until tonight to find us a place to go, and that was coming fast, and to my dismay, would be here soon than I had hoped. I picked up the next letter, rolling my eyes when I realized that it was once again, a private address.
I was in the midst of reading that letter when my door slammed open, and Shane stood their panting, a smile resting on his face along with a note in his hand. I felt my eyebrow raise at him, but couldn't help it. Shane could be a little bit of drama queen when he thought the time called for it. I didn't think this was a time to be over dramatic. Then again, I was being over dramatic in my own special way.
“Yes?” I asked slowly, watching as a glare crossed his face, before switching back to his dramatic smile. Good, point across.
“I found us a place!” He said, the excitement leaking from his voice and in to my body as I leaned my elbows on the desk. I rolled my eyes, resisting the urge to sigh.
“I am not doing another damn private residence, nor another he-stole-this-so-now-he-haunts-the-house-to-get-my-money haunting. I want a fucking murder infested, crazy people laying, demon raising, Satan playing place.” I paused and watched as his smile got bigger and bigger with each description that I laid out. Holy shit, he found one.
“I found just the place, and it's in our old state,” He stated, as he laid a letter on my desk. In pretty ink was the name of insane asylum just south of Columbus, Ohio. My home. I pulled the letter out and read over the letter, with it basically stating that they truly felt that they were haunted, and that they needed assistance in proving it. They felt that the having it on Television would draw more people at Halloween, and finally prove to everybody that it wasn't just a haunted place once a year.
“Have you confirmed the background on the place?” I scrolled some of the historical facts that the owner had written with intrigue.
“We were able to confirm the basic historical facts in a basic search. A deeper search could reveal more to us, but we're not going to start doing a search of that magnitude until we're sure that this is the place that we're going to check out,” Shane stared at me with a hard look, “You know that, so why you would ask me something--”
“Look, I'm not trying to get in to an argument,” I snapped, staring at the papers in my hand. “I just wanted to confirm that there was some check. I was going to do it myself otherwise.”
Shane shrugged, walking out the room with a silent click to my door. The sigh that had been fighting to get out came barreling out with a whoosh, and an eye rub. Another glance at the resignation letter sitting on the table caused me to close my eyes. We were headed back to Ohio.
A couple days later, we pulled up the long driveway to the asylum, a shiver rolling down my spine. The building was huge, with an almost castle like appearance. The sun hit it just right at all times leaving a dark shadow cast all over the building, and an unease that ran over your body, crawling like ants through your skin attempting to get out. Windows were covered in dust, and shadows played on the outside, the human element echoing the despair that surrounded the land. It looked like something off a horror movie, which was great for our ratings, not so much for personal satisfaction. I glanced over at Jake who was driving the car with me and no equipment in it and smiled.
“Do you think it's haunted?” I asked, wanting to get a feel for what the team was thinking of this new place after years and years of homes. Jake turned to look at me, before looking over at Shane and Ian as they set up the van over to side. I watched as his lips pursed, the once smiling eyes darkened in to the disapproving shade that had taken over the last year. We sat there with no equipment, just watching the others bustle around.
“I don't know, Blair. I mean, logic says no, but the experiences can't all be made up,” I nodded, glancing down at my watch and saw that it was exactly five o'clock in the afternoon. We had four hours to get everything set up for the twenty-four hour lock-down that was about to occur. We should have enough time...
“Get that look off your face, Blair,” I heard Jake say as I eyed him,while opening the door.
“What look?” I started to climb out of the car when I felt his hand wrap around my arm, stopping me from any kind of movement.
“That look that you've had for the past couple of months now.” I shrugged, not meeting his eyes. In reality, I had lost my will to hunt ghosts. I was getting tired of not finding anything, and having to fake it. I was no longer looking at the night and wondering what was out there, but I was looking at the night and asking myself why I was doing this. Why am I putting myself through this. I had contemplated leaving a couple of times, and made a deal with Shane and the producers. I searched for this hunt, and after lots of agreeing, along with shutting Shane up, got to pick this hunt, and if I found what I needed, I would stay. If not, I would retire happily knowing that I put my all in to it. Jake and Ian didn't know, and did not need to know, until we got everything set up for film in this one.
“I'm fine, Jake, just a little tired. We need to get everything set up, though, so come on.” I said, pulling my arm away from his, as I got out the car, and walked towards Shane who waited for me with the head owner of the asylum.
She was a chubby older lady, who sorta looked like she had once been a nurse, but was not one any longer. Her long brunette hair was pulled in to a bun, and she wore jeans, and a loose t-shirt. She smiled as I walked up and shook my hand happily as I was introduced by Shane.
“My name is Camille, but everyone calls me Mi Mi.” I smiled a nice smile, though my heart wasn't in it. I glance up at the amazingly tall building before looking back at Mi Mi, who just smiled knowingly at me.
“So we went over some of the personal experiences that you have had here, but I just kinda want to hear from you what is going on at this place,” I stated, as she stared at me.
“You don't believe this place is haunted.” I blinked at her direct statement, not wanting to confirm nor deny that fact. My face must have said it all, because she just smiled at me, before looking at the building and back at me again. “You don't have to believe now. By the end of the night, you'll believe. By tomorrow, you'll never want to come back.”
I shook my head, tearing my gaze away from her and the building to look at the ground.
“Ma'am, the experiences that you have had, or have had reported.” She shook her head, looking at Shane's clam facade.
“We've had voices, laughing, screaming, crying and peoples names being called out at all times of the day. We've had people talking to people who were not supposed to be there, but were.” She looked at me again, a grimace set on her face.
“We've had attacks, and scratches. There have been reported possessions that have later been exorcised. We have several reports of a man in black wandering our halls that beat women, and grope them. We have reports things being thrown, people being thrown down stairs, pushed, harmed in so many ways.” She shook her head, before once again smiling at us.
“Now, due to the reports, and my own personal experiences in this building I refuse to enter. Last time I was in here I was pushed down a flight of stairs, and broke my arm. Don't need a repeat, now do I?” She laughed a heartfelt laugh, but it never reached me as I once again glanced at the building, another shiver going down my spine.
“Are you the owner?” She shook her head with a sad smile.
“I was just asked to work here for the Historical Society when they take it over next year. I don't own it.”
“So whats the history on this place?” I asked, glancing at the worn down sign that hung next to the door.
“It was built in the late 1800's as a place for deformed people. A place where they supposedly could live out their life in happy go luck world, where there would be no judgment and all that comes with society.” Mi Mi snorted as she glance quickly at the building.“That's not what happened though. The place was filled with people getting murdered, and cut up on. Experiment after experiment was performed on these people to see if they could 'fix them' and by the early twentieth century, over 400 people had been killed in this place. The place was shut down in the 1940's when the government was forced to investigate a fire that killed 20 people, to find out that they had been chained to their beds. They were treated inhumanely. No food for weeks on end, water being dispersed when they desperately needed it. Children, Teens, were forced in to sexual relations with other inmates, or the guards themselves. They were tortured if they did not listen, or do as they were told. It was horrible.” Mi Mi shook her head, as I glanced over at Shane's perfectly still body. I felt myself prepare for a sigh, but did not emit it.
“Alright, well, we will be back over to do the preview, and the history for the show, but I need to speak with my men real quick before we do that, Okay?” Mi Mi nodded her head, as I held out my arm for Shane to grasp. He took my invitation and walked with me.
“You need to tell them,” Shane stated simply. I glanced over at him as he began to tug me in the direction of Ian and Jake. I glared at him as I tried to pull away from the path that he was leading me on.
“What do you think your doing?” I practically snarl, as his body started to shake with silent laughter.
“I am forcing you to stay,” He stated, with the calmest voice he could come up with. I huffed, attempting to get myself together.
“What's that supposed to me? You're going to convince the guys to make a fake haunting that looks real enough to me that I'll stay? I hate to break it to you, Shane, but I know what I'm looking for. If there is nothing here, I'm walking away from this, as is my due!”I snarl quietly, as we started to get closer to the others. Shane stopped us, a very serious look crossing on his face.
“Blair, I've known you for over 9 years now. I was with you when we went on our first ghost hunt at the age of 16 and we had nothing better to do. So don't play me like a fool.” I frowned deeply. “Don't frown at me either. You've lost your passion to hunt because it has become a chore. Not even a fun chore at that. When we were finding stuff you were happy, you had something to grasp on to, to search further with.” Shane paused, looking back at the building, and then at me.
“Now we're searching for what used to be. We didn't do it for the fame, or the name it gave us, but for the passion of the hunt.”He looked down at the ground. “I forgot that, and when you said you were leaving, I knew I had to find it again, and fast. I can't lose you. Your my right hand in this, always have been. If I lose you, I lose everything I have gained, not fame wise, but personally.” I felt myself shrug, to try to pretend that I don't care.
“I don't know what to tell you. If we don't find anything, if we can't gain why we hunt back, then I'm gone. I don't need the fame, nor the glory. I'm getting to old for this shit. I'm almost thirty years old, and this has taken over my life. I would still do it too, if we hadn't had a severe dry spell since we started being on T.V. I can't do it anymore, and I'm going to ask that you not ask that of me.” Shane dropped his hand and sighed, before shaking his head and walking away from me.
I followed not too far behind him, when we came up the rest of the crew. Ian glanced at our tight expressions and sighed, putting the laptop that had been on his lap down, and turning to both of us. The historical societies web page showed mountains of information on the building both geographically, and historically. Another set of basic functions that we use to make a plan of attack to make the best out of what we have. Ian's face went tight, his eyes hardening again, flashing to the several fights that I know were echoing through his mind.
“What now?” He asked, in a very stubborn, frustrated voice, that he only seemed to gain when he was in the middle of dealing with me and Shane lately. His hand rested on the door handle of the back of the truck, lightly clicking on the floor, where it had just been clicking on keys a mile a minute. Ian just didn't know how to hold still.
“Ask her.” Shane stated, as he climbed in to the van past Ian, who scooted over to the side closest to the door, and grabbed a camera, checking it's battery length. Both eyes turned to me. For some odd reason, I thought it would be easier than this to tell them that I was leaving.
“Well,” I sighed, rubbing my face, as Ian waved a hand at me. “This might be my last episode, my last hunt.”
Jake's eye flickered between hurt and doubt, before landing and staying on hurt. I looked away and towards Ian, who stared at me coldly. I flinched, as the anger he radiated hit me full force under his gaze.
“What are we not good enough for you?” Ian snapped at me. I looked away from him, aiming somewhere other than my crew, my team.
“It's not like that, Ian,” I stated, as wrapped my arms around myself. “ I'm getting tired of hunting. We're not finding anything, and all we're becoming is some T.V. Personality. That's not me. I did this to hunt, to get funding to find the ghosts, and the other spooks, not to become some fucked up host that people know are fake.”
I heard a bang noise and turned my head to find Ian clutching his fist, and a nice little dent on the inside of the door of the van. Damn men, and their fucking issues, I can't figure out how I stayed around them this long without another female. My eyes glanced back over to Jake, who was staring off in to the grassy fields on the other side of the hospital.
“You said might,” He said softly, and once again I flinched, before nodding.
“If I find what I'm looking for here, a real haunting, I'll stay. I keep fighting, hunting, because I know that somethings out there. The things that go bump in the night are real.” Jake nodded, as Shane climbed out of the back, and sat on the step to the van.
“I searched long and hard for this place, because I knew if I didn't find it, she would leave,” Shane paused, as Ian and Jake turned their heads towards him,“and I would leave with her.” Jake nodded, as Ian spit out expletives for the world to hear in several languages.
“Guys, we've been doing this for four years. We've been hunting together for six years,” Ian snapped out, as I nodded. That was true. “If one leaves, we all leave. We've been together too long for some fill in to take away the companionship that we've gained.” All of us nodded to that.
“Look, if it's going to be the last episode, then lets make it a good one. Lets find what we're looking for, and if we don't find anything, then make it memorable,” Jake smiled as I ruffled my hair. “Lets do this one for ourselves.” I smiled, walking over to Jake and hugging him. When I first started the Night Terror crew, I never thought that we'd stick around this long. Now, nine years later, I was on the verge of walking away from the very crew I started, and they were willing to make this last, for me. God, I loved my friends.
I pulled back from Jake, and glance over at the building that we would soon be starting the episode on. My eyes drifted over windows, landing on one in particular. The curtain hung in rags, swinging back and forth as if the wind moved it. I blinked, feeling once more a chill down my spine. There is just something absolutely fucking creepy about this place. Time to find out what it is.