Page 2 of The Haunting of Lockton
“Do you think we got anything good?”
“Maybe.” Julian tapped his thumb on the steering wheel to the beat of the song on the radio. “We can review the footage tomorrow.”
It was almost 1:00 a.m., and the road was deserted apart from us. I slouched in the passenger seat and stared at the blurs of trees and darkness passing us by. We had been nonstop for months, investigating one haunt after another, working to keep our Patreon and socials updated with new, exclusive content, and trying to find time to sleep in between.
Reaching the hotel, we parked and made our way inside. The chilly November air did little to wake me up. The lobby was dead as we neared the elevator, apart from a woman in a messy bun typing on a laptop in one of the oversized chairs. As the elevator took us up, the cart vibrating and making some not-so-reassuring noises, I leaned my head against the wall and closed my eyes against the white light.
“That bed’s gonna feel amazing tonight,” I said.
Julian exhaled. “We can stay here for a few days to go over footage and rest.”
“Sounds like a plan to me.” Once the elevator reached our floor and jolted to a stop, we stepped out into the hall. My feet dragged as we headed toward our room. “How far away is Ivy Grove?”
“A little over an hour.” Julian unlocked the door with his key card and pushed it open. “I’m excited.”
“Same.” I yawned and entered the room, shivering at the temperature change. Julian kept the room like an icebox. I placed the case of equipment on the table before dropping into the plushy armchair near the window. “I still can’t believe you managed to get us a reservation at Redwood Manor.”
Redwood was a notoriously haunted mansion that had been turned into a bed-and-breakfast the previous year.
“A room opened up, and we were first on the list,” he said.
“We might get lucky and catch some ghost footage during our stay. It’d be a nice little bonus episode for the series.”
“Lockton Asylum is our priority.” Julian shrugged off his jacket and sat on the bed to remove his shoes. “I spoke to Valentina earlier to tell her we were heading there soon.”
Valentina was the owner of Ivy Grove Ghost Tours, a tourist hot spot that gave guided tours of the town’s haunted history. She’d reached out several months ago and asked for us to investigate Lockton, promising us full access to the premises and anything else we needed. The asylum had a tragic history of torture, death, and all kinds of fucked-up shit.
Neither Julian nor I had heard of Ivy Grove before then, but we’d researched it and were blown away by the number of alleged hauntings and eyewitness accounts, not just for Lockton but other places too—Redwood, Blackwell Manor, a boarding house, and various cemeteries. The list went on and on.
Ivy Grove was like a ghost hunter gold mine.
Julian slid into his bed. “Whatever’s happening at Lockton sounds intense. Valentina said an incident occurred last month where a group of kids were attacked. I guess they snuck in Halloween night to have a look around, and one fell down a flight of stairs. He said a dark shape lunged from the shadows and shoved him.”
“Jesus.”
“Fortunately, the boy came out of it with only a few fractured ribs and a sprained ankle. He’s just one of the many people to have something inexplainable happen. Other ghost-hunting teams have investigated the asylum, but none have managed to learn much.”
“That’s because they didn’t have you,” I said, smiling as my eyes shut. “Little ghost whisperer.”
A pillow smacked me in the face. “Don’t fall asleep in the chair, doofus.”
Too tired to grumble at him, I pulled myself to my feet and shuffled over to my bed near the wall. I kicked off my shoes, shedmy clothes, and then plopped facedown on the mattress. I fell asleep right as my head hit the pillow.
Too bad my sleep was far from restful. Nightmares waited for me.
I ran down a deserted highway, fog lining both sides of the road. Darkness surrounded me, as did an irrepressible chill. Panic built in my chest. Something horrible would happen if I didn’t find Julian. He needed me. I screamed for him. Silence answered me. I was alone. So fucking alone.
Up ahead, a woman in a white gown appeared.
Tiny rocks skittered out from under my sneakers as I skidded to a stop on the pavement. She stood motionless in front of me, her long black hair falling into her pale face. Her knee-length dress ruffled with the breeze.
“H-Hello?” I croaked.
Her head twitched, then her shoulder, the movements unnatural and disturbing. When she looked up, a silent scream showed from behind the dark strands of her hair. I lunged backward, and she snagged hold of my wrist.
“It’s your fault,” she whispered.
I tried to talk, but my mouth wouldn’t open.
