Page 131 of The Haunting of Lockton
Just as we turned to head down the first corridor, the air glimmered in front of us. The apparition of a woman appeared, her clothes soaked and her short dark hair dripping water.
“I’m cold,” she said, and her head twitched to the side. She must’ve been a patient who’d been killed in the water experiments, having had freezing cold water dumped over her head or submerged in an icy bath until she drowned.
More apparitions appeared around us. Another woman, this one with blood-soaked, long blonde hair. A middle-aged man sat against the wall and rocked, mumbling to himself. A younger man ran past us, a maniacal laugh bouncing throughout the corridor.
“What the fuck’s happening?” Skyler asked, bringing me closer to his side. My heart fluttered when I realized he was placing his body more in front of mine. Protecting me.
“I think Owen’s presence stirred up the activity,” Callum said. “All the spirits sense him. The full moon is providing more energy as well, allowing them to tap into it and make themselves known.”
A scraping came from behind us.
Turning, I saw the dark form of a man coming down the hall, his body leaning to the left. A metal box covered his head, held in place by the big lock around his neck that was connected to a shoulder holster. The box scraped along the wall before he banged it once, then again, as if to get it off. Blood streamed down his bare chest, and his hands were bound.
“I can’t see!” he cried out, and the box muffled his voice. “It hurts.”
I stepped toward him.
Skyler grabbed my arm to stop me. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“We have to help him.” My heart ached. “He’s suffering.” I scanned the other ghosts, that ache spreading. “They all are.”
Callum stared at the ghost with the box on his head, and pity shone in his eyes. “The only way to help is to rid them of the one causing their suffering. The doctor responsible for their deaths.”
“We need to find Julian,” Skyler said, whipping his head around us. “If only this place was bigger, ya know? It’s not like finding him will be hard or anything.”
Leave it to him to try for a joke at a time like this, but it helped him cope. Kept his mind from jumping to the worst.
Callum cocked his head. “He’s on the second floor.”
As we found the stairwell, more ghosts appeared. None of them tried to harm us though. Some pleaded for help as they bled out. A woman sat crisscross on the stone floor and giggled at the wall. When we reached the next floor and exited the stairwell, a man sat in the center of the hall, his knees brought up to his chest and his arms around them. He looked no older than Alan.
“Why am I here?” he whispered. His body was more like mist, transparent enough for us to see the wall through him. “I want to go home.”
His head then tipped back, and a dark gash sliced across his throat. He fell to the side and violently shook before disappearing.
The backs of my eyes stung.
A deep yell echoed down the corridor, and we took off in that direction. It had come from the medical ward. Rushing into the room, the three of us then came to a sharp stop.
Julian—or, rather, Owen—stood in the middle of the ward, staring down a shadowy figure that hovered in the corner. The figure took on a more solid form and glided forward, the tips of his shoes scraping the floor. The Hanging Man’s neck was bent, and a chilling smile was frozen on his face.
“Look at you,” Owen said through clenched teeth. “Twisted in death just as you were in life.”
The Hanging Man stopped in place with his dark-rimmed eyes pinned to Owen. A rasping sound rumbled in his chest, and his head snapped from side to side, the bones popping in his neck. “Unnatural.”
Hearing him talk gave me chills. It was gravelly and deep, sounding more like a monstrous demon from a movie than anything existing in reality.
“You did this!” Owen screamed at him. “All of our pain. Our suffering. It’s because of you and all the doctors who saw us as nothing more than animals to be put down. We deserved better. All of us.”
“You deserved…” Samuel Howard’s ghost twitched, and his mouth opened wide, reminding me of a demonic puppet. “Death.”
“You’re a coward,” Owen growled. “You poked and prodded at us. You cut us open, showing no mercy. You killed the man I love! Yet, when your evil deeds came to light, I heard you put a noose around your neck and escaped your punishment. You now continue to torment everyone within these walls, not letting us rest even in death.”
“Warren showed me the way,” Samuel said in that spine-chilling choice. “His journal. His words. I continued his mission after his death …” There was a rough sound in his throat. “…to rid the world from those unworthy of life. To destroy those who…” Another rasp. “…corrupt the world with their filth.”
The doctor then lunged at Owen. His body stretched beyond what the human body should’ve been capable of, his long, shadowy arms reaching Owen and his hands clamping down around his neck.
“Julian!” Skyler rushed forward.
