The Haunted Orphanage

Chapter 11

Mark's POV

Dan was listening intently as Phil and Nate spoke. He was probably wondering if Phil was okay as well.

"Yeah, I'm fine Nate," Phil said, forcing cheerfulness.

"You were screaming for several minutes straight. There's no way you're fine," Nate replied.

Phil sighed, "Listen Nate–"

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!" Felix screeched next to me.

I whipped my head around toward Felix to find him staring at the lobby door. "Felix, calm down," Cry reacted cautiously.

"THAT DOOR WASN'T CLOSED BEFORE!" he yelled.

The door was closed. Someone had to have closed it, right?

Jason walked over to Felix and tried to calm him down, "Someone closed it. It didn't just close itself."

He reached for the handle, but Reagan quickly pulled him back. "The handle's hot, remember?"

Jason laughed nervously, "Sorry, forgot."

Reagan rolled her eyes and grabbed the rug off the ground where we had left it. She carefully placed it on the handle and twisted it, but it didn't budge.

"Umm, how hard was it to turn this handle when you guys tried?" Reagan asked.

"It turned right away when we tried..." Dan mumbled, sadness in his voice. I was certain he was sadder that Phil was being tortured than the handle not turning, though.

"ARE YOU TELLING ME WE'RE LOCKED IN HERE?!" Felix shrieked.

"Yes, but it is up to you how long you are."

It was a different voice talking. This one sounded more masculine than feminine, and quite a bit calmer too.

Two voices.

Fantastic.

"And what exactly does that mean?" Reagan directed at the ceiling.

"You don't need to look up, kid. I'm right here," the new voice replied from behind us. We all whipped our heads around toward the source of the sound.

It was wearing a black robe, so we couldn't quite see it.

"Do I need to repeat my question?" Reagan asked. Her voice was normal, as if she wasn't nervous or shaken up at all. I wish I was as brave as this kid.

"No need for that," the figure started, "though, I will say, I thought you would be the smart one of the group, Reagan."

"How do you know her name?" I asked at the same time Reagan asked, "How do you know my name?"

"Why don't we start with some easier questions?" the figure proposed.

"Alright," Dan started, approaching the figure, "what's your name?"

"Name's John, and you're Dan. Nice to finally meet you in person."

"Alright, that's it," I walked up beside Dan and I felt Reagan following right behind me, "how the fu–"