And as always, I’m on the verge of ruin, waiting for a directive from Justin that I just cannot bring myself to fulfill.
Emerald State Mental Hospital is a sprawling tan building with a moss-covered roof and a series of crumbling outbuildings where the patients used to work as part of their ‘occupational therapy’. The place also performed lobotomies and used electroshock therapy and has its own onsite morgue and cemetery.
Not a particularly thrilling locale; the energy is weird.
As soon as I step out of the car and pause beside a massive oak tree, I get chills down my spine.
It looks like a very hard level on a very challenging game, one where I’d gear up and settle down for a whole night of button mashing.
“Do you believe in ghosts?” Maxx asks absently, crossing his arms and tilting his head to one side. “Because if you do, they most definitely live in there.” He points at the building as I give him a look and Chasm comes around the front of the car to join us.
“Is this place even real? It’s cliché as fuck.” He studies the building with no small amount of trepidation, running his tongue over his lip studs. I force myself to look away, toward the dark windows of the asylum. It feels a little … mm, overdone to me. Like, is this too obvious? Or, as Justin so aptly put it, is it just pageantry?
“The rest of the grounds are actually public property. A state park or something.” I start forward, dragging both boys along behind me. There’s a chain wrapped around the handles of the doors, and a frown flits over my face.
Been here, done this before.
Before either of the boys can even think to offer, I’m stripping off my blazer, wrapping it around my fist, and walking over to the nearest window.
“Let me do that—” Maxx starts, his words cutting off abruptly as I punch the window, shattering the old glass. There doesn’t appear to be an alarm system, but the grass is neatly trimmed, there’s a trash can nearby that’s full and set out like someone intends on picking it up soon, and the place really is right next to a public trail.
It’s abandoned, and it’s creepy, but I also read online that there are plans in place to turn the main structure into a drug rehabilitation center. So people frequent this location, and I’m far more worried about being caught by a state park employee than I am a ghost.
I shake my blazer out and toss it over a nearby bush to grab later.
Maxx uses his foot to kick the remaining shards away from the bottom half of the window, and then steps through, holding a hand out for me. I take it, ignoring the thrill that rockets between us, and then climb in with Chasm just behind me.
My hand somehow remains wrapped in X’s as we both pause to look around. The floors are made up of cracked pale-yellow tile while the walls are an almost disturbingly bright sky blue, the paint peeling in flaky curls that litter the ground along with loose leaves, dirt, and stray pieces of garbage. Soda cans, empty chip bags … “Is that a used condom?” Chasm chokes out, pointing at, well, something condom-ish on the floor.
He grimaces and very carefully sidesteps the item.
“Fucking gross,” he murmurs, leading the way into the reception area. Maxx seems to realize that his fingers are curled tightly around mine and very slowly, very deliberately removes them. I shake out my hand and huff out a breath, following after Chasm as he pauses beside a high countertop with a white linoleum surface, a place where the receptionist once greeted visitors.
“It all looks very … seventies,” I murmur, rubbing at my face with one hand as I slide the key out of my pocket with the other. “Nothing like this.” I lift the old key up, but it looks just as out of place here as it does in the hyper modern surroundings of the Vanguard house. “We need to look around and see if there’s an older wing or something.”
“There’s a map here,” Maxx points out, studying one that’s posted to the wall. It’s made of hard plastic and, although slightly yellowed with age and cracked in places, it’s still plenty legible. “The place isn’t so big that we couldn’t do a full sweep.” He points a finger at a staircase on one side and then drags it across the map to the other side and another matching staircase. “If I had to take a guess, though, I’d say we want to go down.”
“Before you even ask: we’re not splitting up,” Chasm says, sauntering past me with his hands in his pockets. I glare at his back before jogging to catch up, X just behind me.
