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Claire pulled her cameras from the top shelf. The office around her was painted boring white, but the people who walked in didn’t comment on the paint color. The most fascinating things were the photographs. All were placed in a grid formation the same 1 inch apart all over the room as if to make the room look tiled by multicolored stones. Customers would come in and in the middle of talking become distracted and study the photographs. Claire posted all of them at one time, but once the walls were full, she began to keep up only the most interesting. It seemed better for business that way. Even her website was raking in hits all day and night.
The most popular were the ones of the haunted sites she’d been to. Sometimes she’d catch a blip of light called an orb by paranormal investigators. She always thought they were dust, but as time passed, she realized that only the haunted places ever had them, no matter how dusty places were. The haunted places were her least favorite places to go though. Crack dealers and hobos lived in the buildings she was assigned to sometimes. Although she always kept pepper spray, she knew it sometimes wasn’t enough. Her body remained in the peak of perfection. Her slim, lean muscles under her tight pale pink t-shirt and blue jeans had made her weekly self defense and kung fu classes easier and her confidence soar. Only once had she ever had to use her training, but it wasn’t even on a stranger. A crazy ex-boyfriend had followed her into a building and tried to rape her, but an over the shoulder throw with a kick the groin followed up by a call to the cops had taken care of that. Still, Claire was careful and always on her guard.
The cameras she began to place in her bag were of all sorts. She had 2 digital cameras both very new and taking at least 7 megapixels per shot. They’d cost an arm and a leg, but for what she charged for her services, they were necessary, especially for landscape shots that would be blown up huge later. After that she had three film cameras. One took shots only in the form of slides. It made her final images square, easy to scan into computers, and nice for making projector presentations. Her simplest camera, and her ultimate favorite, was her Canon. It was nothing too special. It had a few dials and buttons for adjusting settings, but Claire only used two or three settings based on the lighting. Finally, just in case, she always brought a camcorder. It was a decent one that made digital disks. It was always ready to be used in the event she ever saw a ghost. To date the only thing she had filmed at any of her shoots was a vandal spray painting her car to be used as evidence later. Everything else was home movies and event parties for friends. Claire slung the bag over her shoulder after checking her equipment. Everything was in order and ready to go along with extra film, memory cards, and DVDs.
Pulling the paper off the bulletin board with the soonest due date, she headed out the door to her lightning blue Miata. Getting in, she dropped her bag next to her on the seat. Holding the paper, she pulled her laptop from the backseat. Quickly she typed in the directions that she needed. Her next little mission would be leading her to a small town called Falton, NY. An hour’s drive and she’d be there. She had been hired by the town to photograph the historic old hospital before it was torn down. She had no idea why they’d want pictures of hallways with peeling paint and broken doors and windows. Still, the job was getting her an easy three grand just for showing up, and maybe double depending on how many shots they wanted from her collection. It wasn’t her place to argue and money talked loud enough that she was willing to ignore the voices of the stupid people who assigned her these little jobs.
An hour passed and she pulled off the highway. About a half mile away she could see the dilapidated old hospital. It’s pure red brickwork was vivid against the green grass and grey roads. All the town was spread out from the front, as if the hospital were the head of the town. The nearest buildings were a short walk away, probably about a half mile. She knew some of the buildings were part of the hospital grounds, having been assigned to photograph all of them, but some of the nearby ones were also regular residences that had simply been built extremely close by.
Driving down and around through the town, she headed to the mayor’s offices. It was a squat little two story building painted red, but it was dark and had a lot of white edging and pillars. She stopped her Miata at the front below the stairs and got out. Locking the doors, she jogged up the steps and inside. A receptionist pointed for her to enter the door on the right. She made sure her brunette ponytail was well groomed and entered.
“Claire Duvall,” the man at the desk said getting up. He was young, tall, and looked a bit like Brendan Fraser. Shaking hands, and introducing himself as Mark Zachary, he stepped back and looked her up and down, obviously doubting such a cute little thing could be a professional with such good credentials. She pursed her lips waiting for him to realize that she was aware of what he was doing. He didn’t notice, but kept watching her as he continued talking, his eyes constantly lingering on her chest before moving on. “Were you told about your assignment?”
“I’m supposed to photograph Blake Fulton Hospital.” She crossed her arms to stop his hungry eyes. It worked and he turned his gaze away from her.
“Yes, you are. Did anyone tell you exactly what we wanted though?”
“Not really,” she sighed. “I was just going to shoot all over the buildings inside and out and then see what you liked out of them.”
“Well, we want it a little more specific than this. We want day and night shots.”
Claire hadn’t planned on making an overnight trip. “Why the hell would you want that?!” She mentally hit herself, calmed herself down, and then began again. “Why would you want overnight shots?”
Mayor Zachary wasn’t smiling. He acted like he’d never heard such bold words in his life. He shot her a glare, and then explained. “The local ghost hunters say that weird stuff goes on there. I think they’re idiots. All of them are either teenagers or adults living with their parents and they’re just making things up so they can get a spot on some TV show, but some of the people who were in charge of hiring you wanted you to take some photographs and prove them wrong so that we don’t get into trouble for tearing down a paranormally significant place. America’s come up with some pretty stupid laws, wouldn’t you say?”
“Why can’t the proving be done during the day?”
“Apparently people only see these things at night.”
“The darkness can have adherent psychological effects on people. It’s probably nothing but people scaring themselves.”
“We can’t be sure and if we tear this down without checking, we’re in it over our heads. A lawsuit is in order because over half of the town signed some stupid petition saying they want it checked out. Some dumbass got people thinking it’s built on some vortex of evil or a burial ground or something.”
Claire laughed. Every job that had been on a burial ground had always been a bunch of crap. No bodies were ever found even after extensive digs had been done. This sounded like another easy job. She pulled out her blackberry and scanned her schedule for the next day. It was clear until the evening. She wanted this easy job and knew she could get a lot of money out of the losers. The local committee would pay for nearly all the shots to prove that nothing was there. It was going to be a payload like she’d never dreamed of. She could easily make 10,000 dollars in one night. Her DVD might make even more if she forced them to buy it separate if she filmed all or most of the night. “I’ll do it.”
“Okay, good,” Mayor Zachary said with obvious relief in his voice. “We’ve hired someone to go with you tonight to make sure you’re safe. I think the hospital is a haven for drug pushers.”
“I don’t need anyone.”
Zachary looked like he’d been hit across the face. “You don’t? A dainty little thing like you?”
Claire turned on him and walked right up to him. “Listen, I could probably kick your ass. I don’t need anyone with me. I’ll get your shots, you pay me, and then you get to demolish your building. Also, stop staring at my chest, you asshole.” Storming out of the office, she got in her car. Something was stuck on the windshield. It was a parking ticket. She was in the fire lane. Pissed off, she drove seventy to the grocery store to get some bottled water and energy bars for her night stay.
It was early afternoon when she pulled up to the hospital doors. Checking to make sure she wasn’t in the fire lane, she parked in front of the main doors. Nothing said she couldn’t, but if she found out she’d been ticketed again when she came out, she’d make sure someone paid with a foot in their ass.
Climbing out, she went around the front of the car and got out her groceries and equipment. The hospital was old. The front doors weren’t automated sliding doors. Instead there were two huge wooden doors with false brass knobs and little rectangular glass windows. The awning overhead said Emergency Walk-ins. Claire opened one door with a little effort as it ground across the floor. The tiles were bubbling and cracking. The door opened about two feet, then stopped. She pushed the other one open as far as it would go making a gap wide enough for herself, groceries, and her giant camera bag. She decided not to close the doors again, afraid she’d have to break a window to leave and then get another damn ticket. To her left was a long white reception desk. Behind the desk was a door. Beyond the desk was a little hallway to the left. To the right was another hallway and some potted plants and seating. The seating area was large enough for around fifty people. A little abandoned kiosk had a sign for hot dogs, burgers, fajitas, and drinks. The prices were ridiculous, but Claire knew if you were hungry you’d pay. Dropping her bad into a chair with some mold on it, she pulled out a digital camera and her Canon, hanging them around her neck. The lighting was creepy being only general ambient outdoor light from this side of the building. She knew the light would be flooding in on the other side. Between the two hallways, the entire wall was taken up by the map of the hospitals ten floors. It was the tallest building in town, everything else stretching no more than about five floors. Claire studied the map, realizing she’d probably get lost several times that night. No two floors were the same and many had dead-end halls that stretched for what seemed like forever and the turning corner leading to nothing, but a closet or an elevator. All electricity had been shut off, but Claire wasn’t so sure she wanted to try using the ancient elevators anyways based on their age alone. Claire decided to begin her investigation on the light-friendly side of the building and then at about two the light would be on the other side and she could continue.
Concentrating carefully, she tried to feel out anything sinister or foreboding in the air. It just felt to her like a dusty, empty room. The air was stale and smelled horrible from age and mold. The open doors were letting in a little fresh air, but only enough to cool the room down. She hoped a bunch of local morons wouldn’t try scaring her or she’d probably be thrown in jail for assault. Not much scared her anymore after all the haunted buildings of her past were nothing more than creaky, smelly wastes of time. Scoffing at the completely uninteresting surroundings, she decided to investigate the grounds first since they were also mostly on the light side of the building.
She went out the open doors, past her Miata, and all the way around the building. Thankfully, someone had been keeping up on the grass. The uneven ground killed her ankles, but she could see the random snake holes. She wasn’t so sure she wanted to be out of the building at night since everything under cover of darkness would make the walk dangerous. The walk to the back was tremendous taking well over ten minutes. The building was poorly laid out and the bottom two floors had extra branches off the hospital that she didn’t recall looking so big on the map. Finally, she reached the back and was greeted with an open field and a few buildings. It reminded her of a college campus. Each building had a walkway connecting it to another and also to the back doors of the hospital. It was cracked, broken, and uneven, but she decided it would make it harder to get a twist or break.
Turning, she decided to take a picture of the backside while the light was perfect. Holding her Canon up to her eye she zoomed out until she had a wonderful central shot of the exterior. However movement caught her eye and she lowered the camera. Although she could see better with her eyes, she still wasn’t close enough to make out what it was. Putting the camera back up, she adjusted the lens until she had zoomed in on the spot. In one of the third floor windows was a man who looked like he was wearing a white hospital gown. Claire laughed. Someone had already taken the initiative to scare her. The man was looking down at her. Claire snapped a shot of him wondering if she could piss off Mayor Zachary saying that the man had to be a ghost. As she prepared to lower the Canon the man walked off to his right. Claire watched him disappear behind a portion of wall. She looked over to the next window waiting for him to appear. He didn’t. Claire lowered the camera figuring the man was simply standing there. Her eyes glued to the spot where the wall obscured the view. Immediately, she jumped seeing the man walking two windows down. Claire was about to call the job quits when an idea came to her. The man had ducked and walked under the one window and stood up at the division of wall before walking to the next window. Claire laughed at herself for being so silly. Someone had planned this well, but she was one step ahead. The man reached the end of the building and Claire turned away ready to finish shooting outside.
A few more shots of the landscape and she moved to the nearest building. It was locked. The huge rusting metal door loomed ahead of her with a huge padlock across the latch. Claire sighed and walked around the little building inspecting it for another entrance. The windows weren’t barred, but they were locked. After some internal debate, she picked up a rock and threw it through the window. She had been hired to photograph everything and it was their problem if they didn’t give her the keys. Taking off and then using her boot, she cleared away the glass. Hanging her Canon back around her neck and replacing her footwear, she hoisted herself up and over the window ledge. Glass crackled as she hopped down on it. Before her were a multitude of boxes with letters and numbers. She pulled one off the shelf nearly dropping it because of the incredible weight. Opening it, she was greeted with rows and rows of folders. She pulled one out and opened it. The yellowed papers inside were ever so slightly wrinkled with age. The paper was a patient information page. The name at the top read “William Haversham” and then continued on with his personal information. Page two was medical records. It talked about two separate hospital stays and the bills he paid, but all the details were abbreviated. The third page outlined a stay for a severe cough which only required two days stay and was easily treated with medication. Claire flipped to the fourth page and knew she’d struck gold as far as interesting things went. The other stay was for severe seizures and bouts of random dual personality episodes. Personality one was William, number two simply talked in tongues and had violent aggressive phases with the occasional mention of Beelzebub. Claire used the two cameras and took shots of the pages. Setting his folder aside, she opened another belonging to Mary Hallert. Mary also had two hospital visits. Claire was interested to see what they were for. The first stay was for giving birth to a healthy little boy. The second stay was for paranoia related problems. Claire smiled and took more shots. Interested, she opened another folder. John Helms had also had two visits. One for something mediocre, the other for another mental disturbance. Folder after folder contained the same thing. One normal page the other a severe mental or personality change. Ten folders later, Claire wondered something. Picking Mary’s folder back up, she looked at the name of the child, Devon Hallert. Searching the alphabetical box, she pulled out Devon Hallert’s folder with a matching date of birth. Claire saw the first page was his birth record, but the second page was about being admitted to the mental ward of the hospital for severe aggression starting from the age of about five and lasting until his death, long after his admittance at the age of thirteen.
Claire felt sick hoping that this hadn’t happened to everyone. She wondered if she had stumbled on a section for people with mental disorders. Walking along the rows, she stopped at the far wall. Another section of H-names stood before her. She reached up and pulled down one of the boxes. Sorting through folders, she discovered these were people admitted on their very first stay for mental disorders. Claire raced through the room, pulling down various boxes and opening random folders. Always the patients were readmitted for a mental disorder. No one came for a broken arm and then that ended their medical records. Instead these people were always back with an inability to function in society because of problems that were overwhelmingly severe. Replacing the boxes and feeling shaken at the intense multitude of them in the room, she took her shots, then left out the window. Her heart raced at the superstitious idea that people simply coming to the hospital to assist a friend or pay a visit might have to come back as well. Claire wondered grimly if they were the boxes of people who had visited on their first stay. Her stomach clenched at the thought, but she decided it was probably a ridiculous notion. Perhaps she was in a place only used to store records for the mentally unstable. Maybe she would find some perfectly normal records in the hospital somewhere. Still shaken, she walked away from the building out into the sunlight. It made her feel better. She decided to definitely not stop back later. Her business tonight would be in the hospital’s main building, or if it got scary enough, she’d spend the night in the Miata, or even a hotel room.
Trekking down the path, she moved on to a shack. The door was open. Inside were gardening tools and maintenance equipment, most of it rusted, but the lawn mower looked relatively new. Nothing spectacular. Taking pictures, she moved on. The furthest building was actually a small dugout style building housing the hospital’s powerhouse and boiler system. The elements had rusted the equipment, since the face of the building, including the door, had fallen face first into the grass. Claire stepped up and over it as she took pictures. She wondered if the power still worked. Everything had buttons and levers making her choose not to touch anything. The fear of electrocution was also strong from the dilapidated old equipment. Claire checked her watch, then headed for the main building with plenty of sunlight left.
