Ghost of a Chance

I flicked through radio stations, trying to find one that had decent reception out here.  The classic country station had petered out about fifteen miles down the two-lane county road, and the beat-up Chevy that held all our gear didn't have a CD player.  Static, static, and more static, then a burst of faint Hispanic-sounding music, but even the ranchera station was more white noise than melody.

"Forget it, Jules," Elliot sighed from the back seat.  "It's only twenty more minutes."

"Yeah, assuming we don't run into a dirt road with a tree across it."  Ally, our pugnacious resident skeptic, glared at the asphalt ahead of us.

"Don't jinx us, Ally."  I ran a nervous finger over my rosary.  "We lost cell phone signal when we turned off the main road."

"Don't sweat it.  We'll be fine."  Elliot's voice of reason made me feel better, even if it didn't entirely quell my lurking fears.  "Go left at this next turn."

The Chevy turned onto the dirt road Ally had predicted, and we jolted along its potholed length for another fifteen minutes before the road ended in a high fence and gate.  The grounds must have been beautiful once, but that had been at least sixty years of neglect ago.  Now it was a tangled mess of bushes and trees, and our view of the place was blocked until the last possible second.

"Ho-lee crap," Alys muttered, staring out the windshield at the sprawling mansion.  "This's the biggest place we've ever investigated."

"It'll be a learning experience," Elliot declared.

Ally snorted and pulled the Chevy to a stop outside the front doors.  One of them hung drunkenly open, and I felt a sudden chill that had nothing to do with the muggy afternoon outside.  Elliot hopped out.  

"C'mon, team!  Daylight's burning!"

I climbed laboriously out of my seat, feeling stiff from the four-hour ride since our last stop.  I grabbed my camera case and the little shoulder bag that held my gear, then followed Elliot through the door into the dim and dusty front hallway.

"Okay, baseline sweep."  He nodded to me, and I pulled out the EMF detector, a device the size of a large remote control that reminded me of a phaser from Star Trek.  An array of lights and a digital panel at its end measured electromagnetic fields, which supposedly correlated to paranormal phenomena.  We walked through the areas of the sanatorium we intended to investigate, scoping the place out before it got dark and seeing what kind of readings were normal.  When we regrouped outside, Ally had set out a picnic supper for us on the curved stone steps.  I slumped gratefully to the sun-warmed stone and took a large bite from a tuna sandwich.

"Nothing weird from the EMF, but considering this place hasn't had electricity since 1942, I'm not surprised," Elliot announced.  

"Jeez, did they even have electricity in 1942?"  Ally rolled her eyes.  "Kidding," she said quickly before Elliot could reply.

"So... this place is kinda dangerous.  Let's not split up tonight," I suggested.  "Especially since we don't have cell phones..."

"Jules, you're such a 'fraidy cat."  Elliot grinned.  "But good idea."




Night in the woods was incredibly dark to a suburbs kid like me.  The moon was only half full, so our flashlights were the sole islands of psychological safety in way too many trees making whispery noises and hiding who-knew-what in their shadowed depths.  Elliot was right; I wasn't the bravest member of our crew, but they were good friends and I did have to admit that it was fun sometimes.  This place, however, was not.

"What was that?" I yelped.

"It's just an owl."  Ally led the way up the steps, panning around inside the entrance hall with her flashlight.  "Jeez, this place is a dump."

"Take that hallway to your left.  We're going to check out the first floor residency hall."  Elliot indicated the direction with his flashlight beam, and we skirted around piles of dead leaves toward the hall beyond. "Got the EMF and recorder?"

"Phasers set to stun, Cap'n," I cracked.

The investigation started off promisingly enough.  We asked questions- "Who are you?  Do you know what year it is?  Did you die here?"- and even got a few replies to our requests for knocking.  We moved downstairs to the morgue, which resulted in zero answers, and finally up to the second floor infirmary, an area of stark tiled rooms with sinks and rusty old adjustable beds.

"They used electroshock therapy at the time this place was open," he said, voice echoing slightly in the near-empty room.  "Is there anyone present with us who was treated with it?"

Outside the half-open door to the hallway, we heard a crash.  Ally swore, I yelped, and Elliot dropped his flashlight.

"If that was you, can you help us answer some more questions?  Knock once for yes, twice for no.  Do you understand?"

We waited, holding our breaths in the musty silence.  Just as Elliot drew breath to speak, we heard it: a thunk that seemed to come from out in the hall.

"Awesome!  Thank you.  Um.  Were you a patient here?"  Another thunk, this one closer.  "Did you stay here in the infirmary?"  A pause, then a third thunk.  I was certain it was in the doorway.  The tiny hairs on the back of my neck were pricking uncomfortably, but I wasn't about to make a run for it with that... entity in the way.

"Are you in the room with us?" Elliot continued, unfazed.  I could see the little green light on the EMF detector as Ally crept toward the doorway.  As she walked closer, we heard a fourth knock, and the lights on the device went wild, rocketing up to the highest setting.  Ally moved the detector back and forth, testing the area around the door.  There was definitely something there.

"You guys, I'm getting goosebumps.  There's a cold spot here- ah, no, it's gone."

"Are you still here with us?" Elliot asked.  No reply.  "We aren't going to hurt you.  We only want to investigate-"  Ally yelped, interrupting him.

"Hey, get a flashlight over here.  My back is burning."  She pulled up her shirt far enough for us to see three distinct scratch marks forming on her skin.  "What is it?"

"Scratches.  Um, guys, I'm not an expert, but doesn't that usually mean bad stuff?"  I shifted uncomfortably.

"No, this is great," Elliot breathed, his eyes gleaming.  "This is the most activity we've ever experienced."

"Elliot, some people think that scratches mean a non-human entity."  I appealed to his rationality, knowing I'd lose both of them if I used the word demon.

He waved a hand dismissively.  "You don't really believe spirits can seriously harm a person, do you?  How are you, Ally?"

"Fine," she said shortly.

"Hey, are you still here with us?" Elliot asked the air.  "We're here to ask questions.  It's not okay that you hurt my friend."  A squeak came from the corner with the rusty bedframe.  "Is that you?"  A metallic pang, like someone had knocked on the bed.  "Okay, see this little red light?  On this little machine that I'm holding?  Can you say something into it?"

Ally advanced on the bed, EMF detector held in front of her like a shield.  Ten feet away from the corner, the lights went crazy again.  "Cold spot here.  This is crazy, you guys."  She gasped.  "Did you hear that?  There was a growl.  Like, I don't think it sounded human."

"We'll check it on the recording later.  Can you tell us your name?"  Elliot joined Ally, staring intently into the corner.  I stayed in the middle of the room.  I hoped Elliot was right, that it wasn't dangerous, but I wasn't willing to stake my safety on his confidence.  "Did you stay in this room?  Did the staff mistreat you?"

The lights on the EMF detector spiked as the bed squeaked, edging slowly out from the wall.  "Ohmigod, did you see that?" Ally sounded closer to panic than I'd ever heard her.

"Yes.  It's amazing!"  Elliot sounded thrilled.  "Was that you?  Knock again, please."  The bed moved again, and Ally yelped.

"Elliot, stop it!  Something just touched my cheek!"

I glanced nervously around, willing the shadow I thought I saw to be merely my overworked imagination.  St. Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle...

Elliot ignored her.  "What was your name?"

Ally drew back to stand beside me.  "Elliot..."

The bed moved again, and this time even I heard the growl.  I clutched at Ally's hand.  "I can't do this," she choked.  

"Elliot, I think we need to go," I implored.

"Can you touch me too?" he asked, completely oblivious to us.  There was another knock.  With a stifled sob, Ally wrenched her hand from mine and sprinted out of the room.

"Ally!"  I raced after her, flashlight in hand.  She was still clutching the EMF detector, but her flashlight was tucked into her belt.  "Ally, wait!"  She ignored me, and I watched in horror as her foot descended on a metal tray at the top of the stairs.  I knew it hadn't been there when we'd come up.  The tray flew out from under her as if it had been pulled, and she tumbled down the stairs with a sickening series of thumps.  I hurried down the stairs as quickly as I could, fearing the worst.

I forced back my rising terror and tried to remember my tiny bit of first aid.  Wrist.  Check for a pulse.  I clutched at her limp arm, fingers questing for the right spot.  "Ally, Ally, please God no-"  It took a full minute for my shaking fingers to accept that there was no pulse to be found.  I choked back a sob and ran up the stairs.  "ELLIOT!"

I tumbled into the tiled room, but he wasn't there.  "Elliot, I swear this isn't a joke.  Ally fell."  I flicked the flashlight from room to room, searching.  "Elliot!"

"Get out."

I looked up with a gasp.  There he stood at the end of the hall.  "Elliot, Ally fell and I think she's dead and we have to leave right now!"

He took a threatening step toward me.  "Get out."

It took a moment for me to realize that his voice... wasn't his voice.  "Elliot?"

The figure raised a threatening arm.  "Get out."

I whimpered and sprinted back along the hall.  I didn't dare look behind me as I stomped down the stairs, raising clouds of dust.  I took a flying leap over Ally's still form, slipping and skinning my knees on the weathered wood, and wrenched myself back to my feet.  The fall had knocked my flashlight from my hand, but I could see the faint scrap of moonlight from the door.  I heard footsteps behind me and flew down the steps, scrabbling at the driver's door of the Chevy and blessing Ally's bad habit of leaving the keys in the ignition.  I didn't bother with a seatbelt.  The Chevy lurched forward, jostling me almost into the windshield as we rumbled over the potholes, and I squinted at the dim trail ahead, urging the car as fast as I dared.  The frame of the gate loomed ahead, and I zoomed beneath it with a whimper of relief.  As I accelerated down the rutted dirt road, it finally occurred to me to turn on the headlights.  They sprang to life just in time for me to see the tree I smashed into at fifty miles an hour.