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“I think what she means is that if you don’t shut up, you are likely to get hurt,” I tell him in a hushed voice. My cheeks flame at being called out but it works, all three of us now focus in on her.
“Now, the roof and walls were repaired in the places that the fire ravaged, so you will see portraits on the walls or paintings. We have placed most items back where they were before the destruction. Everything is true to how it was before the fire. If you follow me, we will tour the Dean’s office and a few classrooms before we head out and tour the grounds. Please keep your hands to yourselves, the spirits don’t like having their things touched,” the guide warns us. There is true warning in her voice this time and damn, if I don’t believe her.
“Pfft, do you really believe in all this, Raven?” Eli complains. Clearly, he didn’t get the ‘be quiet and listen’ memo.
“I’m not sure what I believe, but I have had some encounters that have made me question what’s really out there. You haven’t ever had that?” I ask. A flash of a memory hits me at that question. Me as a child, staring at my closet and two eyes looking back. Running downstairs for a drink as a teen and nearly falling down the last few stairs at the sight of someone rocking on the chair in our living room, but when I flicked on the light…no one was there.
“Nah. I’ve never been one to think ghosts were real.”
“What? Hunting was your idea and you were on board when I found this place. And you don’t consider the possibility that ghosts are real? I bet after tonight you will,” I tell him. “Seeing is believing after all.” I give him a sassy smirk, hoping that this creepy building lives up to its name. I can just picture them screaming like little kids the moment footsteps creep up behind them and no one is there or a whispered word is caught on video. Either way, this is going to be amazing.
“I knew this was something you’d enjoy, so I figured why not. Besides, we’re a little old to be trick-or-treating or egging houses.” I rolled my eyes at that. He says it like those were on our list of to-dos for the night. It’s tradition after all.
“Speak for yourself,” Jayce jokes. “Candy has no age limit.” Laughing, I give him a fist bump. We both will be raiding the discounted-candy aisle tomorrow with zero shame.
As we continue on, there are a few people muttering about portraits on the walls and a few artifacts that show some fire damage as we stop again. It’s like the place is frozen in time, a mix of before and after the fire that makes it seem surreal. There’s so much history that you can practically feel it. I wish we had time to explore on our own and see everything.
The tour guide clears her throat, calling everyone’s attention back to her. “This here was Professor Wolf’s office. You can see in his painting that he was a handsome man. The stories say that the ladies swooned over him, but he only had eyes for his one and only. I have been told that he roams the hall calling her name from time to time. If you hear the name Iris whispered in your ear, that means the professor is near,” the guide says. She’s an animated storyteller, her eyes wide and excited as she glances around for dramatic affect. “Follow me, we are almost to the Dean’s office. It has the most damage as it is where the fire started. We can step in a few at a time, but for safety reasons, we can’t all go in at once.”
The guys and I stay back a little from the group, letting the crowd pull ahead.
“I thought this would be more ghost hunting, and less educational,” I confess. “We barely have time to see anything and there’s no actual ghost hunting going on.” My shoulders slump at the quick in and out of the Dean’s office, no one truly getting time to explore.
“We can go out on our own and search the grounds ourselves,” Eli says, wiggling his eyebrows. “She has to guide the tour back, anyway. She’ll never miss us.”
“What do you know about ghost hunting, non-believer?” I tease. But the idea of doing our own small hunt sounds exciting. It’s way harder to get real evidence when there are too many people talking or moving around. Unfortunately, this place doesn’t allow solo hunts; we’d have to be careful, so we didn’t get caught. I don’t need an arrest on my record.
“I may have Googled some topics on it before we left tonight,” he replies, doing the very adult thing of sticking his tongue out at me.
“Let’s stay until we see the Dean’s office. I want to check out where the fire started and then we can slip away,” I say.
“Sounds good to me,” Jayce agrees. “At least the history is interesting, even if it’s not creepy.”
As he turns away, Eli sneaks up behind him, close enough to whisper in his ear. “Irrriiiissss.”
Poor Jayce’s face pales as he spins around, clutching his nonexistent pearls. When he sees us both laughing our asses off, he growls.
“You assholes.”
“Come on,” I say as I regain my composure. “I want to see this.”
The three of us continue, stopping next to the painting of Professor Wolf. The guide wasn’t wrong when she said he was handsome. He had a red tint to his dark hair and the same color was on his well-groomed mustache and beard. His green eyes were painted in a broody expression, full lips in a pout. Despite that, he had kind eyes that drew me in. Something about the man stood out to me and?—
“Are you done drooling over the spectral professor, Rav?” Jayce asks.
I play-slap him and nod. “You may want to wipe your mouth, I can see you have some as well,” I joke.
“Har, har,” he says.
I have to contain my laugh as I notice that he’s gullible enough to swipe at the corner of his mouth with a sleeve.
“Your turn,” the guide calls out to us. The way she gives us the side eye tells me that we aren’t her favorites. Part of me is annoyed since we haven’t exactly caused any scenes, but I refuse to let it bring me down. We are already having a great time and are taking it more seriously than she seems to think. Though, I’m sure she gets lots of students and kids laughing and being obnoxious the entire tour. But it’s Halloween night, and there are no rules about being silent the entire tour. There are worse things we could be out doing tonight, beside annoying her.
We step around the banged-up floorboards and make our way inside the office. The energy inside the room is strong to the point of being oppressive. The air is heavy and every breath seems like work. The smell of charred wood is even more intense here, even after all of these years. Part of me wonders if it is a trick of the tour guides but it fits the vibe in the room well enough that it just feels natural.
What I assume was once an old desk is now little more than a burnt stump. A few browned pages are strung out by collapsed bookshelves, not much left of the books that surely lined their shelves before the fire. These look as if they have been placed for the tour. Honestly, the only thing still recognizable is a half-damaged leather chair that sits under an empty, crooked frame, like a throne forged of embers and flame. I have to stop myself from pulling out my phone to snap a couple of pictures in hopes of catching a ghost there.
Eli likes to tease me that I have an unhealthy obsession with death. He’s not wrong. This entire room is a fascinating chunk of history and if I’ve learned anything over the years, it's that the places with the darkest pasts have the most activity. I doubted this one was an exception.
