Page 115 of Specters & Spotlights

Graham nodded and followed her as she cut across the common space toward the back corner, where several narrow hallways branched off like ribs from the main room.

The sound tugged them to the left, to one of the darker corridors, unlit and unfamiliar. They paused at the threshold.

Elise found the switch by touch and flipped it.

The fluorescents stuttered awake with a heavy buzz. The hallway blinked into view in sharp segments—old beige paint, scuffed tile, a crooked sign half peeled from the wall. There were doors lining both sides, all shut tight. No labels.

The bell kept ringing. Faint but steady.

They moved forward, slowly now, footsteps soft on the worn tile.

At the end of the hallway, it turned sharply to the right. The sound was clearer now—definitely coming from around that bend. Elise and Graham exchanged a glance, and Elise rounded the corner first.

At the end of the new stretch of hall stood a single closed door. It had a glass window in the upper half—one of those thick, safety-glass panes with mesh inside.

The room beyond was completely dark.

No light. No movement. No windows. Just the steady, urgent ringing coming from somewhere inside.

They approached the door slowly, the bell continuing to ring in short, insistent bursts on the other side.

Elise peered through the window, squinting against the reflection from the hallway lights. The room beyond was murky, but she could make out enough: it was big. Much bigger than she’d expected—like a rehearsal studio or an old prop storage area. The ceiling looked high, the floor bare.

The bell sounded again—slightly louder now, definitely coming from the far wall. The way the sound echoed made the room feel cavernous, empty. Like whatever was in there wasn’t supposed to be disturbed.

Graham leaned in beside her, trying to see. “It’s huge,” he murmured.

“Yeah,” Elise said, voice barely above a whisper.

Her tattoos began to prickle.

Not painful, just a low thrum beneath her skin. A warning. A welcome. She couldn’t quite tell.

She shifted her weight. The iron nail at her neck felt heavier, warmer. Her breath hitched.

“It might be ghost-related,” she murmured. “But I don’t see anything. Yet.”

Graham glanced at her, searching her face.

“You okay?”

Elise nodded, eyes still on the door. “Yeah. I just… I want to know what it is.”

He held her gaze. “Together?”

“Together,” she echoed.

They reached for the door handle at the same time.

Chapter Twenty-One

Elise

The door creaked open, and a sliver of light from the hallway sliced through the darkness like a spotlight. Dust danced in the beam, suspended like it was waiting for cue lights.

It illuminated barely enough to see the edge of a long mirror—and then more behind it.

A wall of mirrors.