STRAWBERRY VALLEY MYSTERIES: BOOK 1 - BAD PARTS

Chapter 5: Beneath The Surface

The day after their terrifying encounter at the asylum, the group found themselves in a strange silence. No one spoke of the figure or the cryptic warning they'd received. Instead, they went about their daily lives in a haze, unable to shake the chilling memories that clung to them.

Greg, however, couldn’t shake the feeling that they hadn’t yet uncovered the full truth. There was something deeper at play, something far more dangerous than a mere ghost or wandering soul. He felt a gnawing sensation, like a part of the puzzle was still missing, hiding just out of sight.

That afternoon, Greg met up with Max at the local diner. Max had been unusually quiet, his usual bravado gone after their ordeal.

“You good?” Greg asked, his eyes narrowing as he studied Max. “You’ve been quiet since we got back.”

Max leaned back in his seat, his hands wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee. He stared out the window, lost in thought. “I don’t know, man… It feels like we barely scratched the surface of whatever the hell is going on with that place.”

Greg nodded, his suspicion echoing Max’s words. “That’s what I’m thinking. But what if we’re missing something?”

Max sighed. “What do you mean? We’ve already seen enough. That thing wasn’t… right. It’s not just a ghost, and I don’t think it’s human either.”

Greg leaned in, lowering his voice. “That’s exactly it. It’s not just a ghost. There’s something more to it—something tied to the asylum. We need to go deeper.”

Max stared at him, brow furrowed. “You mean… go back in there?”

Greg nodded, determination in his voice. “Yeah. We need to figure out what it really is, where it came from, and why it’s haunting that place. We can’t just leave it alone.”

Max hesitated, then let out a long breath. “You know what? I’m in. But we’re not going in unprepared this time. We need to be smart about it.”

“We’ll plan it out,” Greg agreed. “But we’re doing this. For real.”

That night, the group reconvened at Greg’s house. They sat around the table, a map of the asylum spread out before them, a few half-empty notebooks filled with scribbled ideas, and a growing sense of unease hanging in the air.

“We’ve all seen what’s inside,” Greg began, his voice low. “But we need to figure out why that thing’s there. It’s not just lingering—it’s guarding something. And I think we need to find out what.”

Ryan looked at him, eyebrows raised. “You’re saying there’s something in there? Something important?”

Greg didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stood and walked over to a nearby bookshelf, pulling down a dusty old journal. He flipped through it before handing it to Max.

“This is a journal from one of the doctors who worked at the asylum,” Greg explained, his tone tense. “I found it in the archives last week. It talks about some experiments that were conducted there. Horrible stuff.”

Max took the journal, his fingers brushing over the yellowed pages. “Experiments?” he echoed.

Greg nodded grimly. “Yeah. They were studying the human mind—pushing boundaries, trying to see how far they could go with ‘treatments.’ But some of the notes… they talk about things that shouldn’t even be possible.”

Lilly frowned. “Like what?”

Greg met her gaze, his expression cold. “Like using dark rituals to manipulate people’s thoughts. And… things like opening gateways. Places between worlds.”

The room grew unnaturally quiet. The weight of Greg’s words hung in the air like a storm cloud.

Barney, who had been pacing near the window, stopped and turned to face the group. “You think… that thing in the asylum is tied to these experiments?”

Greg nodded. “It’s the only thing that makes sense. I think the figure we saw—whatever it is—could be a result of what they were messing with. Maybe something that was never meant to be.”

Rose shivered, her eyes wide. “Are you saying that whatever is in there… was created by them? And it’s been trapped there ever since?”

Greg sighed. “It’s possible. Or maybe it’s been waiting for someone to figure it out. Either way, I don’t think we’re just dealing with a haunting anymore. We’re dealing with something that’s been locked away for a reason.”

The group exchanged uneasy glances. No one spoke for a long moment, the gravity of the situation settling in.

Finally, K.C. spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “So what’s the plan? How do we get rid of it?”

Greg’s eyes darkened. “We don’t just get rid of it. We find out what it is. What it wants. And then we decide what to do with it.”

After a few more minutes of planning, the group agreed. They would return to the asylum at nightfall. This time, they would search deeper, exploring areas they hadn’t dared to venture into before. Armed with supplies, they would take their time and see what they could uncover.

As they prepared to leave, Greg stood at the door, his hand resting on the doorknob. He turned back to face the group, a final, serious question in his eyes.

“You all sure about this?” he asked.

One by one, they nodded, each of them steeling themselves for whatever lay ahead.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Greg said with a grim smile. “Let’s go.”

The asylum was even more foreboding under the cover of darkness. The moon was hidden behind thick clouds, casting the building in near total shadow. The group made their way toward the side entrance once again, moving silently, flashlights cutting through the oppressive dark.

“Ready?” Greg asked, his voice barely a whisper.

“Let’s get this over with,” Max replied, his voice tight.

With a creak of rusted hinges, the door opened.

The inside of the asylum was as unnerving as ever. The air felt thick, each breath a struggle against the staleness that clung to the walls and floors. The shadows seemed to move, twisting and shifting in the corners of their vision, just beyond the reach of their flashlights.

The group moved deeper into the asylum, their footsteps echoing down the corridors, their senses heightened, alert to any sign of movement.

Greg led them toward the back of the building, where the darker, more secluded parts of the asylum lay. The farther they went, the more the air seemed to hum with an unnatural energy, as if something was stirring just out of sight.

Then, as they reached a narrow hallway at the back of the asylum, they saw it.

A door, hidden behind a stack of forgotten medical supplies. A door they hadn’t seen the last time they were here.

“This is it,” Greg whispered, stepping forward. “This is what we were meant to find.”

He reached for the handle and, with a deep breath, pushed the door open.

What they saw beyond it was a room like no other—a place untouched by time. The walls were lined with strange symbols, etched deep into the stone. In the center of the room stood a large, stone altar, surrounded by broken candles and dried herbs. The air felt heavier here, as though it were charged with something dark and ancient.

And standing in front of the altar, staring at them with cold, empty eyes, was the figure.

It was waiting.