Ghosts of Rosewood Asylum by Stephen Prosapio Read Free Book Online Page B

sat on benches
surrounding the orange-brick hospital—relatives hoping their loved ones would
regain their sanity. The sun slinked below the horizon, the long shadows
vanished, and the happy fantasy faded to gray twilight.
    Zach had driven by Rosewood plenty of times.
He’d even parked and walked through the historic neighborhood. Blocks away,
restoration of both the Market Hall as well as the old Pullman factory was
nearly complete. Decades ago, fire had ravaged the historical landmarks. Zach
vaguely recalled the incident, but didn’t remember the details. Details that,
no doubt, Wendy would supply at tomorrow’s briefing.
    Standing at the chain-link fence that
separated him from Rosewood’s original wrought iron gate, Zach felt much more
anxious than he had on previous walks around Pullman. Soon he would be inside
the asylum; in a position to solve the hundred-year mystery of Rosewood’s
haunting. As dusk slowly claimed Pullman, questions ran through Zach’s mind.
Would the two teams, XPI and Demon Hunters , work in harmony?
Would they discover natural phenomenon that would scientifically explain and
debunk the ghost stories, or would they document proof of the paranormal? Would
the infamous female spirit who had scared off people for a century reveal
herself to them? To him ?
    The asylum’s main entryway had stood
sentinel for over a century. Situated on the northeastern edge of the property,
set in from the corner of 115th Street and Pine Avenue, a nine-foot fence
topped with barbed wire separated Zach from the historic buildings. The fence
served as a northern barrier along 115th Street. Past the two oak trees to the
west, lay the new strip mall with the GrocersMart and a Muses Coffee
House . The fence also ran southward around a building that had been the
hospital’s administrative offices and another that had long ago been the
asylum’s stables.
    Although his emotions were in check, Zach
swore he caught a hint of Sailor Black in the air. Was this a warning to
stay away from Rosewood? Was the investigation doomed before it had even begun?
When he heard a voice, Zach nearly crawled out of his skin.
    “Allo, mate.”
    Zach spun around. Pierre, the Demon
Hunters’ TechniHunter , stood on the side of Pine Avenue within thirty
feet of him. In his right hand was a lit pipe.
    “What the heck are you doing here?”
    “Prolly just like you, I came t’ava lil
Captain Cook.”
    Zach struggled to make sense of what he was
trying to say. “What?”
    “Ya’ know, an earl tea look.”
    Zach had read about the colloquial language
of Australians, but he’d never met anyone who used the Cockney-like slang.
    “Yes, an early look,” Zach said. “I, too,
wanted to get a lay of the land.”
    Pierre appeared as confused as Zach felt.
    “Right. Lay of the land ,” Pierre
repeated. He chuckled and took a puff from his pipe. Not Sailor Black but a similar aroma.
    “Did you, Angel and Matthew get things
squared away for tomorrow?”
    The more Zach had considered their task, the
more he understood that it was a technical nightmare—it was going to take a lot
of generators to power their cameras and lights. Moreover, the cameras and
video equipment would require substantial effort to properly situate and set
up.
    “ Squared away ,” Pierre repeated. “I’d
say we’re squared, mate.” He appeared pensive.  “Did things go well wif
you yanks at lunch?”
    “Sure, it was all shits and giggles.”
    “ Shits and giggles , eh?” He peered at
Zach and then took a purposeful suck on his pipe. “Well, nice chattin’ with ya,
but I think I might find me a ribbidy dub. I could really do with a kitchen
sink.”
    That one had Zach puzzled. It was becoming
quite clear why the Demon Hunters , or perhaps the network, had prevented
Pierre from speaking on camera. The wrong phrase uttered at the wrong time
could ignite World War III.
    “You want to get a cup of coffee?” Zach
asked, pointing towards Muses .
    “No coffee for