Asylum

The Void

Dragged and handled like a marionette pulled by its strings, I could tell we were headed for the stairway. The smell worsened and I pulled the neck of my shirt above my masked nose.

"Slow down, Jonathan! We need to wait for the others."

"Oh, I figured they were right behind." Jonathan stopped. "Guys?!" He uttered impatiently and I knew what we'd heard was raw gold in a ghosthunter's world.

"We're coming!" I heard Becca's out-of-breath response not far from where we stood. "We're here, we're here!"

"Good. Try and keep up, guys. We can't miss an opportunity like this. Careful, we're going up the stairs now."

The rickety stairs creaked beneath us. With each step we took, I prayed thinking each move we made would be the one that would plunge us to our death.

"If it isn't the spirits, these stairs are gonna kill us," I huffed.

"Where's your sense of adventure, Liz," Jonathan lazily replied and although I'd met him minutes ago, I could tell his words were followed by a teasing simper.

"At home."

He chuckled and somehow, it gave my trembling body, comfort.

At the top of the stairs, he slowed down and glided forward gracefully making sure the rest of us wouldn't trip on something protruding from the floor.

"We hear you. If you are here, make yourself heard . . ."

Silence.

"Hello? We want to help you," he continued. "Earlier, we overheard you cry. Let us know where you are."

Chilled we halted. Our ears were wide open and our eyes circled around the room. A jarring scrape filled the silence. It reminded me of nails on a chalkboard and my chest heaved.

"This way," he susurrated.

I clutched Paul's hand, "Don't let go." I mustered bravely. I sensed him shake his head.

We came upon a disturbing room. Small in size with all sorts of technical equipment. A lonely, white chair with filthy straps hanging off it, in the center.

"Are you here?"

A frenzied soundlessness girded us.

"If you are here, let us know."

The knot at the pit of my stomach tightened as the dreadful quiet gave my mind the space to think, what if? Calmness briefly surrounded me and for a moment, it was peaceful as we heard each other breathe.

The small machine Jonathan held in his hand beeped out of control and a misty chill dropped upon the room. I brought my hand to my face and the rapid breaths I took resonated in my ears. Cold sweat trickled atop my brow and I wiped at it with my bicep.

"It's here. Let me set up the camera. Hold this." Jonathan handed me his flashlight and I beamed it down at him while he shuffled through his bag. "This is great. So great," he repeated but I didn't get the feeling it was great at all.

"We're recording. I hope it doesn't drain my battery . . ." He took the flashlight from me and walked over to a table. There, he placed a cylindric box with four lights atop it.

"What the fuck is that?" Leon questioned.

"REM-pod. It alerts to the energy field and temperature changes in a room."

A shrill shriek came from Leon. We turned towards him, then, at what his fingers pointed to. A dense, dark shadow of what resembled to be a man a few feet before us.