Ghosts of Rosewood Asylum

by Stephen Prosapio

  “Damn straight,” Ray said. He motioned to Shelly and Rebecca. “Come along now, girls!”

  “You need a good ass kicking don’t you?” Shelly asked, failing to keep a straight face. She punched him in the meaty part of his arm.

  “Oww.” He began shadow boxing Muhammad Ali-style, and then extended his right arm straight putting his palm on her forehead – a move that made it impossible for her to reach him with punches. “C’mon, girl. C’mon, girl.”

  Shelly chuckled and played along. They meandered down the hall toward the exit. Rebecca grabbed Zach by the elbow and held him back.

  “I need to ask you something.” She looked unsure of how to express herself, which for her wasn’t unusual. Rebecca often had trouble articulating her feelings and conveying her psychic experiences.

  “What’s going on?”

  “I’m not sure. Do you feel anything here? I mean, when you’re inside this place?”

  Zach inhaled a deep centering breath. Other than dust and the faint smell of musk, he sensed nothing. “No. But you’re more attuned than I am. What do you feel?”

  She looked him in the eye, which for Rebecca, was rare. “Something is in this place—something ugly. It’s subtly—in this case, not so subtly, affecting people’s moods.”

  He nodded.

  “Zach, something evil is roaming these halls.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  That Sashza showed up to Rosewood shocked a few—even Bryce had claimed that her appearance was a fifty-fifty proposition. Sara had gotten the network to apply significant pressure to the transvestite-psychic. Apparently a Sci-D lawyer had told Sashza that if she expected to ever be seen on television again, she had better perform her psychic walkthrough.

  When Sashza did appear, it surprised no one that she showed up in dramatic fashion. She strolled up the driveway wearing a pink sequined dress and emitting an attitude as if she’d been pulled away from an Emmy Awards dinner. Her sequins picked up the light of the setting sun and flashed and twinkled. But her hat was what stole the show. A throwback to maybe the 1940s, a faux white rose perched upon a tiny brim from which long thin white feathers sprouted. And of course the pièce de résistance, the white veil wrapped around her face as though it could shield her from all harm.

  “Hello everyone. Hello!” She waved like she was in a parade. “Thank you for all the calls!”

  Her mood seemed to cool to just about frigid when she approached Sara and the camera. With a nervous fluster, Sashza looked away and focused on Bryce. “Darling, I am so glad you insisted I come. This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance at really making contact with souls who need help.”

  She grabbed Zach’s arm and pulled him close, as though she needed both their support if she were to take more than a few steps forward. “And Zach, my dear, I do hope to provide you a first-hand viewing to the effectiveness of my readings.”

  Zach smiled. “I’m sure it’ll be a treat.”

  “We’re going to walk the property,” Bryce said to Sashza. “We’re going to start at the administration building, move to the old stables, and lastly go into the main hospital building.”

  “Very good. And it will just be a small group of us, yes? I don’t wish to be distracted by conflicting vibratory sensations.”

  The crew had finished filming Sashza’s arrival. Sara walked out from behind the camera. “It’s just going to be the on-air talent here and us.” She pointed to the two cameramen and herself.

  Zach always loved being referred to as ‘on-air talent.’

  Sashza acted as if Sara wasn’t even there. “Bryce dear, could you get me some water? My throat is incredibly parched.”

  Bryce trotted to the equipment van to fetch her drink.

  “Where did you come from this evening?” Sara asked, seemingly intent on breaking the iceberg-sized barrier.

  Sashza looked at Zach and then at the sky. As though realizing she couldn’t be overt in her rudeness toward Sara she spoke, but without looking at her. “I had an early dinner with a lovely friend in the city.”

  “Really? Where?” Sara asked.

  “Oh, I don’t know.” Sashza focused on flicking away imaginary lint from her dress. “Downtown. I don’t remember the name of the establishment.”

  Zach glared at Sara. She was enjoying this too much. Fortunately Bryce returned with bottled water which Sashza used as an excuse to wander a short distance away—in the exact opposite direction of Sara.

  I’m sensing a little girl,” Sashza said. “Why would a child be in this place? She’s lonely. Not scared but lonely. She wishes she had…a friend.”

  Zach, Bryce, Sara and her cameraman stood outside the administrative building near the far southeast corner of Rosewood’s property line. Sashza had not experienced any psychic feelings inside the building. Upon exiting, she had meandered around the perimeter in a semi-trance before standing still, closing her eyes and beginning to speak.

  “Boy!” Sashza squeaked. Her facial expression took on the innocence of a cherub—her complexion cleared and the wrinkles in her face seemed less pronounced. Zach would never have believed it just an hour earlier, but Sashza actually looked like a young girl.

  They waited patiently for her to continue, but she seemed to be far away—in the recesses of her mind.

  Bryce broke the silence. “There is a boy?”

  “Not a boy. Just Boy.”

  Zach looked at Sara. Had she told Bryce or Sashza about their experience with Joey? As if reading his thoughts, Sara deliberately shook her head.

  “Where are you?” Bryce asked. His eyes never left Sashza’s face. He moved close enough to catch her if she swooned, but stayed a safe distance from invading her space.

  “I’m here!” Sashza giggled, but the laugh wasn’t at all like her.

  Bryce appeared confused, and then rolled his eyes.

  “When are you?” he asked. “What year is it?”

  “It’s 1900, silly. Don’t you remember the big New Year’s party?”

  “Ohhh, sure,” Bryce said. “Did you have fun at the party?”

  “Yes, but it also made Mommy and I sad because Father had died.”

  “How old were you when your father died?”

  Bryce seemed very comfortable with Sashza’s state – almost too comfortable. Almost rehearsed. Had it not been for Sashza’s mention of ‘Boy’ after Joey had used that term earlier, Zach wouldn’t be buying any of this.

  “Seven. But I’m eight-years old now.”

  “That’s great. So tell me about this boy…”

  Sashza’s brow furrowed and she frowned. “Not ‘this boy,’ just ‘Boy!’” Her tone had taken that of an insolent child.

  “Okay,” Bryce said, calmly as ever. “Tell me about Boy.”

  “He tells me things.”

  “Like what kinds of things?”

  “Secret things.”

  “What kind of secret things?”

  “Boy said not to tell. I can’t tell anybody!”

  “It’s okay,” Bryce said, softly. “You can tell me.”

  “Nooooooo!”

  “Why not?”

  Sashza’s face darkened. “Boy? Who is she?”

  “Who are you talking about?” Bryce asked.

  “B-but I don’t…” she stammered, “but why?”

  Bryce appeared confounded. Sashza put her fingers in her ears, as if blocking a high-pitched whistle. The terror in her expression made Zach’s abdomen tense and his toes tingle. He considered shaking her out of the trance.

  Sashza put her hands down to her sides, and then she inhaled deeply, “Mamma, help! Help me!”

  The small group stood in the open expanse in front of Rosewood. The day’s unseasonable heat had dissipated at sunset, and the chilly Chicago breezes provided subtle warning to everyone that October approached. Fireflies periodically dotted the darkness, their tiny flashes of yellow light serving as a nostalgic reminder of summer nights.

  Considering Patrizia’s disclosure
of the murdered orderly, Sashza had a surprisingly uneventful reaction to the old stables.

  “Okay,” Zach said. “Okay. Let’s go into the main building.”

  Angel and Pierre chatted in their constructed, technical nerve center. Shelly was leaning over the bank of video monitors checking out the images. Rather than flooding the area with bright lights, Angel had set up dozens of pillar candles around the lobby. Zach opposed the idea on the grounds of fire safety, but Bryce, Sara and pretty much everyone else vehemently overruled him. Zach usually knew when to pick his battles, so he’d given up his opposition. He had to admit that, with the eerie incandescence, it was precisely how Zach had always imagined Rosewood.

  “Take me to the basement,” Sashza said.

  “Downstairs?” Bryce stared at her.

  “It’s the only part of this building worth me looking at.” The certainty in Sashza’s voice echoed throughout the lobby.

  Zach led the way. As his confidence in Sashza had increased, his anxiety level had risen—especially regarding the basement. If Rebecca’s raw but underdeveloped psychic powers had gotten such a visceral reaction, what kind of experience were they in for with Sashza?

  He opened the door, flicked on his flashlight and headed down the steps. He took advantage of the darkness. He breathed deeply to calm his nerves. Sashza wasn’t the only one “touched.” An inattention to his own emotional state could trigger his condition. The result would be an episode dramatic and graphic enough to freak out the most hardened Sci-D TV viewer.

  An overwhelming urge to say something gripped him. He stopped before reaching the bottom step, turned around and faced up the stairway. Sashza gazed down at him.

  “We all, Bryce, Sara and myself, agreed not to taint your impressions of Rosewood by telling you anything that happened earlier today,” Zach said.

  Eye contact let him know that he had one-hundred percent of her attention.

  “If at any time you feel yourself in danger, please let us know so that we can get you to safety.”

  Sashza solemnly nodded. Behind her, halfway up the stairs, Sara was grousing to the cameraman that he should be filming. Zach ignored them, offered Sashza his hand and guided her down the remaining steps and into the corridor.

  “Lies,” she said.

  Zach flinched. “What?”

  The others rushed down and gathered at the base of the stairs. Zach pulled his hand away from Sashza as the cameraman aimed to film.

  “Lies and deception. All around us. Especially around you!” Sashza stared at Zach, but her eyes became expressionless, almost vacant. She closed them. “She’s lying to you. She means well. But deceiving nonetheless.”

  Zach swallowed his pride and did his best Bryce impression. “Who’s lying?”

  “He told her it would be okay. She doesn’t understand. She’s not letting me. She doesn’t belong here.”

  “The woman they found?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why was she here?” Zach asked.

  “She was tricking him. Just like she’s tricking him now.”

  “Who?”

  Zach felt lost. Sashza was picking up on something, but he couldn’t seem to guide her or to make sense of it. Her face contorted into a countenance gruesome and furious.

  Her eyes opened.

  “She fucking lied she did! And now, she’ll burn!”

  “The woman was the reason someone burned down—”

  “Someone? You are a liar. How dare you?”

  “Dude, that’s it. I’m stopping this.” Bryce rushed around her and stepped between them. “C’mon honey…Sashza, snap outta it.”

  Whoever or whatever Sashza had become, lunged for Bryce’s jugular. “Oh, you’re the reason? You, Carter? You’re a fucking joke! I’ll kill you!”

  Zach grabbed for her, but it was unnecessary. Sashza’s half-hearted attack was little match against Bryce’s strength. Her large hands kept hold of his throat for a moment, but then seemed to lose their passion. They released and fell to her side. Bryce smothered her in a bear hug. She tried to escape, however he gripped her tightly.

  “Shhh. It’s okay,” he said.

  Sashza let out a ghastly wail. “Stay away! Stay away from him! You don’t know what you’re up against!”

  “Sashza, shhh. It’s okay,” he repeated. “C’mon back to me.”

  She mustered one final but futile attempt to struggle away from him. Failing, she looked up and screamed. “Dr. Johansson, I don’t belong here!”

  Sashza passed out in Bryce’s arms.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “This is crazy. Check it out!” Matthew said.

  The technical nerve center in the asylum’s lobby looked like a broadcast trailer at the Super Bowl. Several video screens, both small and large, monitored rooms, hallways and outdoor landscape all throughout Rosewood’s grounds. Matthew, Pierre and Angel were gathered around a video monitor at the lobby’s control center. Angel held a camera in his hands.

  Sara trailed behind Zach. She instructed her cameraman to film whatever was being discussed. Bryce was escorting a distraught Sashza to her car. She’d taken nearly half an hour to snap out of her trance in the basement, and then had claimed that she felt something from the asylum invade her physical presence. She adamantly swore she needed to leave Rosewood. She had insisted on leaving immediately.

  “What’s up boys?” Zach asked.

  “You’re not gonna believe this, mi hijo,” Angel said. “I saw that the video feed to Camera 3, the one in the cafeteria, had gone out. I assumed it was just some power issue, so I walked down there to see what was up. I find the camera not only lying on the floor but look.”

  He held it out. There was a huge gash on one of the corners. Angel flipped the camera over and exposed the lens. It was shattered.

  “What—”

  “Check for yourself,” Matthew said. He’d cued up a video recording from Camera 3.

  The picture displayed the night vision images of the giant room. Its far corners faded to greens and grays. The image wiggled slightly, and then slowly the perspective changed. It rose from the four-foot shot to perhaps six or seven feet in the air. It paused there only a moment before plummeting to the ground. The picture was gone for a second. Then a still view of the room flashed back on screen through the shattered lens. Then the screen went black for good.

  “That’s it,” Matthew said. “Holy crap. I’d say we got ghosts!”

  Zach turned to Angel. “How long was the feed out before you went and found the camera like that?”

  “I dunno. A couple of minutes? I periodically eyeball the video monitors to check that they’re working. We had people hanging around up here right about that time, so I was distracted for maybe five minutes—at the most.”

  Bryce walked up. “What’s the haps, peeps?”

  Matthew explained the situation and reran the video for him.

  “That’s awesome. That clip’s gonna make for an awesome preview for the show!”

  Zach sighed. “Yes, but it’s still unsubstantiated evidence.”

  “Unsubstantiated?” Bryce threw his hands up. “And how would you like this authenticated, oh wise one?”

  “I’m just saying, theoretically someone could have lifted the camera up and smashed it.”

  “Theoretically who?” Bryce puffed out his chest.

  “Theoretically, anyone.”

  “Cut!” Sara glowered at Bryce and Zach. Her command had been to stop filming, but everyone in the room understood the double entendre.

  Zach unzipped his tent. He stooped through the opening and plopped down on his sleeping bag. Crazy psychic readings, broken video cameras, infighting between the teams, and it wasn’t even midnight.

  “I need about a week’s worth of sleep.”

  Ray lay on his half of the tent with his feet crossed. His head was propped up on a gym bag as he worked on a text message. It smelled like he’d bathed in cheap cologne.

  “Aww, did poor Zachie
pooh have a rough day being on TV? Was it hard hanging out with the hot Asian chick while I pitched our tent by myself?”

  “You have no idea, pal-o-mine,” Zach said. “Who are you texting?”

  He squinted and pursed his lips. “A coworker.”

  “Raymond Michael Ross, you had better not be chasing after a stripper!”

  Ray glared at him. “Are you kidding? I’m texting another bouncer to see about swapping shifts so I can hang here tomorrow.”

  “Oh. Sorry.”

  “You better be, ya clown.”

  “And, seriously, thanks for setting up the tent.”

  “No problem. You just owe me another blowjob.”

  “Am I interrupting?” The question came from a female voice just outside the tent.

  Zach recognized the scent of her perfume—French vanilla with a wisp of honeysuckle. His face went flush. He scrambled toward the tent’s opening—toward her.

  “Patrizia. Hi. Hello. No.”

  Her hair was tied back in a ponytail and she’d changed into a spandex bodysuit like Trinity wore to kick people’s asses in The Matrix.

  “Do you have any spare flashlight batteries?”

  “Sure, in my car. You need some?”

  “I forgot to bring backups and want to be prepared in case they run out while investigating.”

  “Good idea,” Zach said. “I’ll run to my car and get them before we start.”

  “Thanks.” She smiled and left.

  Ray’s bemused face made Zach grin. “Shuddup.”

  “Oh Zach,” Ray said, raising his voice several octaves, “do you think maybe you could shove some of your big powerful batteries into my flashlight?”

  “You need a good ass kicking.”

  Ray smirked. “From you?”

  “No, from her. You were already pretty hard on my ass the other day.”

  “Yeah, I put you over my knee and spanked you. Just like she’d probably do.”

  “Yeah, like she’d do to you,” Zach said.

  “Yanno, she’s kinda hot in an Amazon woman sort of way,” Ray said. “I mean as long as she ain’t another one of them transvestites!”

  There was the sound of shuffling footfalls outside the tent.