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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"Quiet on the set!" the director yelled, though the empty room made his voice echo back unnaturally. He shivered, pulling his coat tighter around himself. The cold that permeated the Harrowgate Apartments had an unnatural sharpness to it, like a thousand spectral hands clawing at his skin.
Jules couldn't believe he had agreed to this farce. As the host of the popular web series 'Walking the Veil,' he usually investigated genuinely haunted locales, places with real stories of anguish and turmoil tied to them. Harrowgate was just an abandoned building where bored teenagers came to drink and scare each other with made-up ghost stories. The only reason they were here was because the building was slated for demolition in a few months. Once it was gone, no more viewers seeking cheap thrills.
"Are we rolling?" Jules asked impatiently. He just wanted to get this over with.
"Rolling!" the cameraman confirmed.
Jules straightened his jacket and adopted his on-screen persona—the charming, slightly roguish host ready to guide the viewer through the dark shadows of the paranormal world.
"I'm Jules LeRoux, and this is Walking the Veil. Tonight, we investigate the infamous Harrowgate Apartments, where over the years, countless visitors have reported encountering violent paranormal activity..."
As Jules spoke, he led the crew further into the decrepit building. Their flashlight beams danced nervously across peeling walls and debris-strewn floors. Most of the apartment doors hung off their hinges, revealing filthy interiors. Graffiti covered the walls, ranging from mundane tags to apparent occult symbols scrawled in what looked disturbingly like blood.
A loud crash echoed from somewhere above them, making the group jump. Jules cast his eyes upwards, where the upper floors were lost in darkness.
"As you can hear, we are not alone tonight," he said with a theatrical whisper. "The restless spirits of Harrowgate are aware of our presence. Before this night is through, we will make direct contact with the other side."
Privately, Jules wondered if a homeless person was squatting somewhere in the decaying hulk. He hoped not—he didn't want their night of manufactured ghost hunting interrupted by anything prosaic. The audience expected thrills, chills, and screaming hosts running from sudden loud bangs.
Not that he believed in any of it himself. Jules considered himself too grounded in reason to buy into ghost stories. But he knew what people wanted to see.
"Tell us about some of the dark history here," said Mia, his assistant. Right on cue, as rehearsed.
"I'm glad you asked!" Jules replied. "Harrowgate was built in 1928 and was originally luxury accommodations catering to the wealthy. But the first tragedy struck in 1931 when a young actress named Margaret Dunwell threw herself from the roof after a failed audition. Legend has it her ghost still wanders these halls, crying for the fame and acclaim she never achieved in life."
