Following the chilling success of their first collection, Lady Eckland, Glenn Riley, and new collaborator, Bella Darkwood return to guide you through the shadowy corridors of fear with their second compendium, *Whispers In The Dark 2*. These master...
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The notification icon, that tiny red circle with a white number one inside it, popped up at the top right of the screen. George Blackwell stared at his phone, his heartbeat quickening as he saw that first viewer had tuned in to his livestream.
"What's up Ghosties, George 'The Ghost Tracker' Blackwell here coming at you live. I'm on location outside the abandoned Blackwood Island Resort, where I will soon be investigating rumours of hauntings and paranormal activity. Remember to smash that like button!"
George gave his customary introduction as he stood at the gates of the decrepit hotel. He held his phone selfie-style, capturing his grinning face with the crumbling resort behind him. The live viewer count steadily climbed and the comments started rolling in.
ShadowHunter88: This place looks creepy as hell! Ghosts for sure here!
ParanormalSista: Be careful George! Negative entities feed on bravado.
GeorgieBoy43: Lets gooooo! Gonna be lit!
Adrenaline coursed through George's veins seeing the excitement building with his fans. Ever since he started his online persona 'The Ghost Tracker' a year ago, he became addicted to the thrill of paranormal investigating. But more than that, he craved those view counts, like counts, and the sense of renown and importance that came with his growing following.
Tonight's livestream investigating the infamous Blackwood Island Resort would be his most daring feat yet. The decaying hotel was strictly off limits to the public, but that made it all the more tempting for George’s pursuit of views. He couldn’t resist the chance to be the firstGhost Tracker to set foot inside and capture evidence of the rumoured hauntings.
George gave a wink to the camera. "Well Ghosties, shall we see what awaits inside?"
With viewers tuned in across the internet, George squeezed through a gap in the gates. His boots crunched over broken glass as he strode through overgrown weeds. Getting closer, the decrepit state of the once grand hotel came into view, with cracked walls covered in creeping ivy, rows of broken windows like missing teeth, wood rot and crumbling masonry.
The front doors hung off their hinges, a gaping maw into darkness. George pulled out his torch and stepped inside.
"Here we are Ghosties, entering the grand lobby of the abandoned Blackwood Island Resort hotel, left to rot for almost 30 years,” he commentated to the camera in a dramatic whisper. “Can you feel that? There’s a heaviness in the air. Let’s see what lost souls we can find in here.”
Shining his torch about, George’s light reflected off once-opulent brass and marble fittings, now covered in a thick blanket of dust. Faded paintings hung crooked along peeling wallpaper, the faces of people long forgotten by time.
Rotting ceiling timbers exposed sagging wiring and water damage. Overturned furniture lay strewn amongst rubble and vegetation forcing its way through cracks in the concrete floors. The air smelled of mould, rust and dripped water.
