Page 8 of Escape from Rage


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“The EMF meter is spiking,” Lynda said, holding it out in front of her. She turned one way in the dark corridor and then another. “This way.”

They entered a large room, and Drake almost pissed his pants. The air felt thick and there was a frightening aura to it. The room was freezing cold and there were three tables you usually saw in a morgue, ones that usually held bodies. Stains could be seen under the light of their torches. A wall of mortuary cabinets stared him in the face as his torch hit them. Some were open, and Drake shuddered. There was debris and rubbish everywhere.

“I’m going to put the REM Pod here,” Marsha announced, placing it on the middle table.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Drake muttered.

“Did anyone catch that?” Rosie squealed. Her torch was on one of the open cabinets.

“What?” Marsha demanded, turning around.

“A shadow; it moved from one side to the other,” Rosie replied, sweeping the room with her torch.

“Think I caught something,” the cameraman said. “I can flick back?”

“No, keep recording. I don’t think we’re alone,” Marsha murmured.

A squeal from the REM POD made everyone jump. The lights began to blink on it. Drake felt shivers run down his spine.

“What the fuck?” he demanded.

“Something is in here with us. Touch the REM Pod if you’re male,” Rosie said.

“Okay, touch if you’re female.”

The REM Pod squealed and lit up.

“Is this Mary?” Nothing happened.

“Another ghost?” Janey murmured.

“Are you alone? Touch if that’s a no,” Rosie asked, and the REM Pod shrieked for a long time.

“Jesus,” Savage replied.

“What?” Drake demanded.

“I have six figures, and they ain’t us,” Savage said, holding up the SLS camera.

“No way,” Marsha said, scrambling across to him.

“Leave … now,”the ghost box announced.

“Who turned that on?” Drake demanded.

“Yeah, not me,” everyone stated to varying versions.

“Torture,”the ghost box droned.

“I don’t like this,” Drake admitted.

“Shush,” Savage said.

“Were you tortured here?” Rosie asked.

The REM Pod squealed loudly.

“Mutilation,”the ghost box said.

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