He nods and the light from Ethan’s flashlight illuminates the hall. “It’s the original elevator shaft,” he tells us when he comes back into the room. “Right behind the wall.”
“Okay, so Dr. Hanover wants to scare us away from the elevator shaft?” I shake my head, unable to see why. “Cause it’s dangerous?”
“I’m going to say no,” Ethan tells me with a smirk. “Though, the guy was a doctor. Maybe he really is concerned for our health and wellbeing.” He motions for us to follow. “Come on, let’s check it out.”
The bad feeling grows in intensity the closer I get to the elevator shaft, and when I stop right in front of it, I’m struggling to ignore the flight or fight response it’s giving me. Squeezing my eyes closed, I remind myself these aren’t my emotions. I have no reason to run away—yet, at least.
“Whatever’s down there, I don’t like,” I whisper to Ethan. “Whatever Dr. Hanover is trying to tell me…it…it feels like a warning.”
Ethan opens his mouth to tell us what to do next and snaps it shut, remembering this is supposed to be a training job. He knows what he’s doing and likes to take charge so it’s not in his nature to step back and watch from the sidelines.
“Mike, what would you do next?”
“Well,” Mike starts. “I think we should finish canvassing the second story and try to provoke any more spirits. This is the area most of the attacks happened. The doctor could be baiting us, maybe wanting to separate us with a false sense of security.”
And now I’m biting my tongue. But I can’t really explain how I know he’s wrong without explaining that I’m a medium.
Mike pulls caution tape off the elevator shaft and shines his flashlight down. “Fuck, that’s ripe. Smells like shit.”
“Sulfur?” Ethan and I ask at the same time, and both step over. I put one hand on the metal frame to brace myself so I can look inside and get hit with another vision. It’s the little girl again, waking when someone grabbed her ankle.
“Daddy?” she whispers, and he holds his hand up to his mouth, telling her to be quiet. And then stabs her right in the chest. I pitch forward, taking in a deep breath to try and steady myself, which was a mistake because whatever is down there is fucking ripe. Like roadkill in the sun ripe.
Ethan pulls me back, big hands holding my shoulders. “I’m fine,” I whisper, and a second later, his phone vibrates with a text.
“It’s from Julia.” Ethan and I step away from the elevator. “There was a little girl who died in an apartment here along with her mother. The cause of death was ruled an animal attack even though their apartment was found locked.”
I shake my head. “It was her father. I felt it and I saw it. He was in a rage and stabbed her.”
Ethan scrolls through several photos of news articles Julia sent. She really is good—and fast. “It couldn’t have been. Bryan Olson died two months prior in an attempted mugging right outside of the building.”
“That doesn’t make sense. That’s him,” I insist, looking at a photo of Bryan Olson. “I saw him.”
“Maybe the kid’s memory got scrambled from, ya know, dying?”
“Maybe.” I let out a breath. Details can be skewed from different perspectives, but thinking your father killed you isn’t a detail you’d forget or get confused about. Letting Mike take the lead again, we follow him into another room, which has already been gutted. The farther we get from the elevator, the less I feel the ghosts’ presence, and it’s bothering me in the worst way.
Dr. Hanover’s spirit is obviously intelligent. He’s trying to scare us away, which isn’t unusual. Spirits that are tied to a place can often become possessive of the space.
“What were you trying to say earlier?” Ethan asks, hanging back as Mike goes into the empty room.
“I can sense something dark. It’s not a spirit.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’ve been seeing ghosts my whole life. They give off a certain vibe and I know, it can range, but this…this isn’t a ghost.” I shake my head, not sure how to put my feelings into words. “It’s giving me a sense of dread, and it’s not because I’m getting hit with its emotions. It’s because I actually should be afraid of this thing.”
“Like it’s demonic.”
“Yeah.”
Ethan shifts his eyes from me to Mike. “I need to talk to Steph. Clear out the noobs. They’re not ready to face anything that dangerous yet.”
“Steph doesn’t seem to like me, but she, uh, seems to like you,” I try to say it casually, not wanting it to come off like I’m a jealous girlfriend. Ethan and I have both slept with other people, which, as adults, is expected. And I know in terms of experience, Ethan has much more than me—which I’m quite thankful for. He’s very good at what he does.