"Yeahhh no," Max says. "I'm not going to the basement."
Lonnie snickers, turning to look at him from the corner of her eyes. "Why not?"
"Because," he stresses, "That's stupid. Who in their right mind would want to go down into the creepy, eroding basement?"
Lonnie's smile was almost wolfish, the tips of her teeth gleaming in the half-light. "I would."
"And you're crazy. I only came along because you guys are my friends. Not to go on some trip to the most eerie place here."
"Are you scared, Max? Are you living in perpetual fear that the building will collapse while you are still inside, perhaps killing you?"
"Don't talk about that," Max snaps, instinctively, then blinks, as if confused. "I. . . I'm not scared--"
"Then let's go," Lonnie says, grabbing his arm and pulling him down the hall. "I find myself ebullient at the thought of going down there. Maybe it will prove perspicacious to my state of mind."
"Don't mind me," Max mutters, "the hostage you're dragging down there."
"It's as if going there," Lonnie says, ignoring him, "will clarify a troubling thought I harbor." She turns to glance at Max before facing forward. "About the asylum. I did an extensive search about it and the layout of its structure. There is a room in the basement where, allegedly, human experimentation was conducted."
"And we're going there why?"
"Because it's exciting," she says simply, "and it will fulfill the reason I agreed to come."
"Wait, so you're saying the only reason you came with us was to see the basement?" Max asks.
"Precisely."
"So. . . it wasn't 'cause we're like, best friends forever, or that we needed some bonding time in the haunted asylum?"
"See what I mean, Max? You just don't possess the voice for sarcasm. You sound like yourself, no matter the situation. I have doubts that you can do accents, either." Her step falters and she pauses. "What makes you think this place is haunted?"
"Well, duh, it's an old, abandoned building." Max says.
"I can't conclude to whether you're serious or if that was just a collaboration with your indistinct sarcasm."
"Look," Mat says, changing the subject, "I get it that you want to explore the basement and all. . . well, actually I don't but. . . can you not drag me along with you?"
Lonnie actually stops, causing Max to stumble awkwardly into her.
"Oh, my bad," she says in the same, punctuated tone inherit of her voice. "How insensitive of me." She lets her arm drop, falling away from Max's.
With a brief hesitation, a flicker of an arm, she turns and resumes walking down the hall. Max is left standing there. Indecision flashes across his face, as he realizes Lonnie is leaving him all alone. In the dark.
A pipe contracts, creating a creaking resonance through the building.
Max sweeps his head from side to side, before finally running after Lonnie.
"Alright, fine, since you begged so hard, I'll join you." He says as he catches up to the flashlight's beam.
"A reasonable choice," is Lonnie's reply.
They stop in front of an arching entrance. A chunk of the material is missing; scattered dusty remains litter the floor. There is a hole in the wall, branching out in thin lacerations. Beyond is metal ducts and pipework, coated with rust.
A stairwell springs up from the space beyond the archway, branching off into one row leading upwards and another leading down -- into more darkness. A thin railing lines the edges of the stairs, withered and in various stages of decay.
Lonnie doesn't hesitate, immediately starting down the steps on the right side. Max makes a sound in the back of his throat, running a distracted hand through his hair before following her.
The flashlight picks up a blot of shadow on the floor.
"Is that a rat?" Max asks, somewhat shocked.
"It's dead," Lonnie puts bluntly.
They step over the rat carcass and move on. The staircase isn't very long and they find themselves standing in front of a long hallway, the end lost in darkness. On both sides of the walls are a series of doors -- metal, with view holes near the top, which are barred, like some old prison.
"Alright we're in the basement cool okay so yup you found what you're looking for so can we just go?" Max says in a rush.
Lonnie holds out a hand, silencing his ramble. "Honestly, Max," she says. "Pull yourself together."
Max lets out an agitated grunt, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Oh sure, I'm like the embodiment of cool. I'm so chill I'm causing the room around us to be cold, just 'cause I'm so chill."
"It is a bit cold here," Lonnie comments distractedly.
She is walking towards the first door on the right side of the room. Her flashlight picks up patches of rusty stains along the doorframe. With her hand, she pushes against the door and finds little resistance. Somewhere, a pipe clangs against another.
"Okay, I lied," Max says. "I'm not actually making it cold."
"I realized that."
"But still," he continues, ignoring her, "it's freezing down here. Why is it so cold?"
"How should I know?" She counters, slipping into the room.
Beyond the door is a squat, inelaborate room. Four crumbling walls, no decoration. In the center is a block of old concrete, splattered with faded burgundy stains. To the left of the block are pieces of metal, comprised of what was once medical equipment.
"This is fundamentally untouched," Lonnie whispers, mystified.
"This room is colder than outside," Max complains by the door.
Lonnie traces a hand against the pieces of machinery, feeling the sharpness of cold metal. She takes out a slim phone and takes a snapshot of it.
"What was that?" Max suddenly asks, his voice unsettled.
"What?"
"On your phone, the reflection. . ." He raises his arms, at a loss, as if trying to make Lonnie understand through interpretation of his movements. "Ugh, nevermind. I thought I saw something. Can we just leave?"
"Not yet," she says.
Lonnie holds her phone up to the light of the flashlight, reversing the camera so that it reflects her face. Seeing nothing but herself, Lonnie frowns. "If you were anyone else, Max, I would just assume you were being facetious. But your genuineness makes it so you probably can't lie so I doubt you're just messing with me."
"Blah blah blah."
"Just let me finish with this," Lonnie says. "Then we'll meet up with Travis and Marissa."
She takes a few more pictures of the eerie, decrepit room, before nodding to herself and turning around, ready to tell Max that she is done.
She pauses, momentarily faced with one of the rare times when she is taken by surprise.
Max isn't in the room.
YOU ARE READING
HAUNTER
Short Story"There's a ghost here. A lonely, heartbroken spirit. The ghost of everything that could've been and never was." -Jennifer Donnelly. She was forgotten. Completely, forever lost in the minds of everyone who knew her. Maybe that's why she couldn't reme...
