Read Online Ghosts of Rosewood Asylum by Stephen Prosapio - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Stephen Prosapio
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absent any furniture, although a few dust brambles the
size of rodents rolled across the dirty wood floor, no doubt gathering mass as
they did so. First order of business would be cleaning the place, the lobby at
least, so that the dust didn’t foul up their electronic equipment.
On the opposite side of the lobby from the
reception area, a curved staircase led up to the second floor. Its white marble
steps swept up and around, encircling half of the dingy lobby like a waning
moon. The wooden railing appeared relatively new and had no doubt been a
product of one of the stalled reconstruction efforts.
“Can we get a shot from inside of you
opening it up?” Sara asked Winkler. She pointed a location to one of the
cameramen. “Everyone, back outside please.”
“What?” Winkler appeared dumbfounded.
“Please, sir?” Sara’s wink and smile had
worked on tougher men.
“Alright, but make it quick.”
They repositioned and filmed the
reenactment. Sara made sure that Bryce and Zach followed Winkler through the
double doors together into the building. This time when Winkler entered the
foyer, it was with an attitude—even more of one than he’d thus far displayed.
He started talking before most of the people had caught up with them.
“Up there’s most of the rooms, some of ‘em’s
locked, most not,” he shouted pointing at the staircase. “Down this hall here,
if you go about a hundred feet, is the cafeteria. Down that one is the
infirmary.
“You are taking us on a tour, right?”
Zach asked.
“Tour? What’s this look like, Disneyland?”
“Not exactly,” Zach said. “But we were led
to believe we’d be shown some of the spots where hauntings were said to have
occurred.”
“Nobody told me nothin’ about no tour. All I
was instructed to do was to let you’s in and show you the place.”
Zach sighed. “Wouldn’t that be—”
Sara stepped in. “Mr. Winkler, couldn’t you
just walk us through Rosewood and point out the specific places you might think might be haunted? You know, your friends and family would probably
like seeing you on TV...”
Zach knew what she was attempting. If she
could manipulate her way into at least getting a cursory walkthrough, she’d get
video footage and use voiceovers during the clips.
“Well, I don’t have friends or family that
would watch a show like this.” He cocked his head as he’d done earlier. His
inflection was sarcastic to the point of being patronizing. “I’ll tell you
what? You explain to all three of my bosses why I wasted my whole morning
walking you through an abandoned property. Then, I’ll show you where some
asshole cut the fence last week. Or maybe you’d like to see the door jam I
had’ta replace yesterday from some young punks prying their way into the
administration building? Yeah. Yeah, then I can show you where I cleaned up the
vandalism. Oooh boy, won’t that be a hootenanny!”
The echoes of his tirade faded to a dull hum
and then were gone. Despite hosting a lobby full of people for the first time
in over a century, Rosewood had never been more silent.
Then came the Grant Winkler coup de grâce .
“Besides, I don’t believe this place is haunted none anyways.”
By the time Zach convinced Winkler to leave
a set of keys so that he could open locked rooms and close the main door at
night, the early-day promise of Indian summer had delivered in spades.
Unseasonably warm autumn temperatures in Chicago typically brought gaiety to
those not wanting to release summer’s carefree days, but as the groups realized
how much equipment would need to be put in place, the heat brought only
anxiety.
Zach walked up the driveway after having
seen Winkler out. He passed the XPI and the Demon Hunter equipment vans parked near the front door. They faced outwards and, had they
been any closer to the building, they could have been gargoyles. Sara and Bryce
were chatting behind the Demon Hunter van.
“Is any of it usable?” Bryce
size of rodents rolled across the dirty wood floor, no doubt gathering mass as
they did so. First order of business would be cleaning the place, the lobby at
least, so that the dust didn’t foul up their electronic equipment.
On the opposite side of the lobby from the
reception area, a curved staircase led up to the second floor. Its white marble
steps swept up and around, encircling half of the dingy lobby like a waning
moon. The wooden railing appeared relatively new and had no doubt been a
product of one of the stalled reconstruction efforts.
“Can we get a shot from inside of you
opening it up?” Sara asked Winkler. She pointed a location to one of the
cameramen. “Everyone, back outside please.”
“What?” Winkler appeared dumbfounded.
“Please, sir?” Sara’s wink and smile had
worked on tougher men.
“Alright, but make it quick.”
They repositioned and filmed the
reenactment. Sara made sure that Bryce and Zach followed Winkler through the
double doors together into the building. This time when Winkler entered the
foyer, it was with an attitude—even more of one than he’d thus far displayed.
He started talking before most of the people had caught up with them.
“Up there’s most of the rooms, some of ‘em’s
locked, most not,” he shouted pointing at the staircase. “Down this hall here,
if you go about a hundred feet, is the cafeteria. Down that one is the
infirmary.
“You are taking us on a tour, right?”
Zach asked.
“Tour? What’s this look like, Disneyland?”
“Not exactly,” Zach said. “But we were led
to believe we’d be shown some of the spots where hauntings were said to have
occurred.”
“Nobody told me nothin’ about no tour. All I
was instructed to do was to let you’s in and show you the place.”
Zach sighed. “Wouldn’t that be—”
Sara stepped in. “Mr. Winkler, couldn’t you
just walk us through Rosewood and point out the specific places you might think might be haunted? You know, your friends and family would probably
like seeing you on TV...”
Zach knew what she was attempting. If she
could manipulate her way into at least getting a cursory walkthrough, she’d get
video footage and use voiceovers during the clips.
“Well, I don’t have friends or family that
would watch a show like this.” He cocked his head as he’d done earlier. His
inflection was sarcastic to the point of being patronizing. “I’ll tell you
what? You explain to all three of my bosses why I wasted my whole morning
walking you through an abandoned property. Then, I’ll show you where some
asshole cut the fence last week. Or maybe you’d like to see the door jam I
had’ta replace yesterday from some young punks prying their way into the
administration building? Yeah. Yeah, then I can show you where I cleaned up the
vandalism. Oooh boy, won’t that be a hootenanny!”
The echoes of his tirade faded to a dull hum
and then were gone. Despite hosting a lobby full of people for the first time
in over a century, Rosewood had never been more silent.
Then came the Grant Winkler coup de grâce .
“Besides, I don’t believe this place is haunted none anyways.”
By the time Zach convinced Winkler to leave
a set of keys so that he could open locked rooms and close the main door at
night, the early-day promise of Indian summer had delivered in spades.
Unseasonably warm autumn temperatures in Chicago typically brought gaiety to
those not wanting to release summer’s carefree days, but as the groups realized
how much equipment would need to be put in place, the heat brought only
anxiety.
Zach walked up the driveway after having
seen Winkler out. He passed the XPI and the Demon Hunter equipment vans parked near the front door. They faced outwards and, had they
been any closer to the building, they could have been gargoyles. Sara and Bryce
were chatting behind the Demon Hunter van.
“Is any of it usable?” Bryce
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