A/N
I have never had the opportunity to visit the place referenced in this chapter, so please... if you see anything really outrageous, let me know; otherwise, remember this is a work of fiction :)
♥
Seven and a half hours went by faster than expected. Only one pit-stop to switch drivers—Stella's neck ached—and one drive-through run for sustenance, and the girls wheeled into Philadelphia in the late evening.
They were quiet, for once, when they arrived in their off-freeway, falling-apart, not-so-reputable Motel Six. Exhaustion washed over them in heavy waves. They barely unpacked their pajamas before getting the urge to slide into their queen-sized beds—though Arielle was pretty sure they were large twins. It didn't take long for them to doze off into semi-restful slumbers.
Semi, because only Stella slept. Arielle was plagued with nightmares of Jade calling her name, reaching her bony white hands out to brush through her tresses. Her eyes were black and demonic, and her voice a scratchy, croaking noise that woke Arielle in a cold sweat.
No... she's fine, I'm fine. We're fine.
She glanced at Stella, whose platinum curls gleamed in the moonlight streaming in through the flimsy, hole-ridden curtain covering their barred window. It reminded her of a prison; and how fitting, since tomorrow they'd visit one such place.
Throwing off the covers, Arielle waded to the bathroom and filled a plastic cup with water. The liquid trickling down her throat quenched her thirst but didn't give her solace.
Why did Jade hide her spooky excursions with Trevor?
"Did she think I'd be jealous?" She scoffed, took another swig of the metallic-tasting liquid, and cringed at her faded outline in the mirror. "Me? Jealous? I'm not... I've never been..."
Cramming her eyelids shut, she snorted. Who was she kidding? Arielle was the jealous type. When she met Jade and Stella, learning to follow their friendly routine and rituals had been tough. She needed so badly to be included, but had such a hard time opening up, due to how things ended with her last best friend.
Oh, fuck... look at my pattern of death... fantastic.
She sniffled. Obsessing over ghosts was their thing. Something she and Jade shared, bonded over late at night, sent each other puzzling text messages about, dreamed about. No matter how Arielle made fun of her friend's passions, she couldn't help but be almost as intrigued; and more so now that Jade was dead. Specters, death, the paranormal—Arielle had accumulated so much research lately she had no idea what to do with it.
Questions burned inside her skull—where did Jade go, if there was some sort of afterlife world? And would she come to the prison, meet them there, talk?
"I'm nuts." She refilled the cup as she opened her eyes and glared at her reflection. Though the lights were off, the outside street lamps pooled all the way to the bathroom's entrance, splashing her face in a gloomy glow. With her bloodshot eyes, her messy mane of auburn and crimson, her pointy shoulders and barely-there chest, she was a cursed girl with death at her heels.
She downed the rest of the liquid and shook out her hair. Why did Jade's omission affect her so? It wouldn't be the first time. She'd lied about her partying habits, lied about her alcohol consumption. Heck, in the beginning she even lied about Trevor, thinking Arielle and Stella would mock her.
But why would we mock her if she cared for him?
Stella had secrets. Arielle had some, too. But Jade's were the deeper, more mysterious ones.
And there was another reason for Arielle's pain at Jade's lie; but standing in the partially dark and dusty bathroom in this dilapidated Motel 6 wouldn't give her the answers she sought.
"Ugh, go to sleep, you idiot," she said to herself, trudging to her bed. The mattress squeaked as she slid under the sheets. Stella rolled around, mumbling "it's written in the stars, the cards confirm it!" before proceeding to snore.
Arielle yanked the blankets over her head.
***
"Ahhhhhhhhh!"
"Arielle! Ari, you okay?"
Arielle unglued her sticky eyelids to find Stella leaning over her, her chocolate gaze widened.
"Wha... what the... huh?" Arielle rubbed her cheeks and slid her fingers through her hair to shove it out of her face. "What happened?"
"You were screaming," said Stella, returning to the edge of her bed, covering her stomach with her clasped arms. "I mean, I was awake, but... shit, you okay? Did you have a nightmare?"
All I do is have nightmares.
"I... I guess? I have no idea. It's... Jade, she's..." Arielle blew out her cheeks and sat up, peeking at the alarm clock on the table between the two beds. "It's nine? I thought I told you to wake me at eight?" She whipped her legs out and rose, struggling to hide how she shivered.
"Ari... maybe we took this trip too soon." Stella glanced into the lap of her ripped leggings she loved to wear to sleep. "If her memory is haunting you, if you're not recovering—"
"—I'm fine." Arielle flipped around and set her fists on her hips. "It... it doesn't happen often, okay? It's because we're here. The Penitentiary is close, and she really wanted to go there... so my subconscious is hyper aware, that's all."
Stella stood up and pursed her lips. "You sure? Because I've had this off-putting sensation since last night, since we got here, so I wouldn't blame you if—"
"Stop." Arielle peered around in search of her rucksack. "You're running away again. Confront it! We came here for Jade, and she wanted you to man up and take on your fears." Finding her faded jeans, she stretched. "What time does the place open?"
Stella marched past the bathroom and flicked the light on. "Ten. I showered, so I can grab us breakfast while you get ready?"
She was already halfway out the room before Arielle could protest.
And in any case, Arielle's stomach growled. Food might settle her unease.
Desperate for a moment to breathe, to collect her thoughts, to erase the images of Jade clawing at the top of her coffin and crawling from the ground with blood drizzling from her mouth, Arielle meandered into the bathroom.
Once in the shower, she unleashed her tears of fright and agony and reminded herself to be strong. They were visiting a reputedly haunted prison today.
If you want to catch anything, you have to be alert and awake.
She slapped her cheeks.
"So wake the fuck up!"
***
The horrid flashes of Jade's corpse subsided after coffee and a bagel loaded with cream cheese, courtesy of Stella's insane decent-food-finding skills. They packed up their stuff, checked out of the hotel, and made their way to Fairmont, the museum boulevard of Philadelphia. The weather was dreary and gray, fitting Arielle's mood—the mood she desperately wished would shift so she could focus on the task at hand.
The castle-like facade of the Eastern State Penitentiary took their breaths away. Its stone citadel sat in the middle of town, old and imposing and nothing like its pictures—it was better. They'd purchased their tickets in advance, and thank goodness, because the place was packed with people. Adults, eager teenagers, and several elderly fascinated with history.
"Remember, professional paranormal equipment isn't permitted during your visit of the building, but photography is allowed!" said a woman guiding a group of tourists down the long corridor of faded and chipped turquoise wallpaper. Flyers and pictures and journal clippings scattered across the tops of the walls, and an overall locked in for life vibe clustered the area, turning it stuffy and scary.
Before they proceeded, they received headsets and MP3 players for their visit. Arielle was excited to hear how Steve Buscemi would narrate this—she'd read on the website that he offered his voice for the audio-tour. But Stella didn't turn on the player, nor did she settle the headset over her curls. She stilled, then strode forward, gasped, and took a sharp left into Cell Block Eight.
"Whoa, where are you going, dude?" Arielle hurried to catch up and snatched her by the wrist as two teens swooshed by, giggling. "Don't you want to follow the tour?"
Stella snorted. "And you think Jade would follow the tour?" She rolled her eyes as she tugged Arielle farther into the zone. A sign saying Al Capone's Cell caught her attention and she cocked her head. "Cool." She stiffened and her shoulders tensed as her arms dangled at her sides. "Oh. Oh, that's weird."
"Weird?" A chill slithered down Arielle's back and a breeze ruffled through her ponytail as she noticed the cells ahead. Despite the visitors ambling about, the air seemed to immobilize. Everything moved in slow motion. A glacial atmosphere of death swept in, coating her skin in goosebumps. "Everything here is weird. We're in a jail. This place is... surreal."
The feeling intensified when Stella refused to continue down Cell Block Eight and insisted they go to the Rotunda, instead. She mumbled to herself as they walked down the turquoise and stained-white hallway, keeping the MP3 player and headset in her grasp.
The bright Rotunda displayed seven faded blood-red archways—eight including the one they were beneath—and each offered a new exploration, a unique piece of history, an insane experience. Most people seemed to veer towards Cell Block Three—the Hospital and the Hole were down that way.
Stella, swerving by tourists without so much as a glance at them, swayed on the spot, staring towards nothing in particular. She was not herself, Arielle could tell; she was on alert, twitchy, more so than usual.
Without warning, she dragged Arielle towards Cell Block Five.
"Dude, what are you—" Arielle ripped her hand from Stella's as she tripped on her shoelace, "—what is your problem?"
The blonde huffed and crossed her arms, squeezing the recorder and earplugs in one hand, and clutching a brochure she snatched at the entrance in the other. "I... I sensed something. It was... I thought I felt it in Eight, but... no, it's over here, it's running, hurry—ugh."
Her laces secure, Arielle glanced up and saw Stella violently shudder, her eyes rolling back, her feet shifting as she came close to slumping against a wall.
Arielle jumped up and caught her. "Are you okay?" She gripped her friend's shoulders and watched as her eyes closed, opened, closed again. She gasped, and all the color drained from her face. "Stella?"
The blonde shuddered once more and broke free from Arielle, shaking her head. "I'm fine, I'm fine, I... fuck, Mom warned me this would happen and I ignored her because I always ignore her, and—"
"—what did your mom say, Stel? Talk to me."
Paranormal investigators said it spooked them... but we're here during the day. We'll be fine... right?
Stella lifted her chin. "It was our argument, yesterday. She... she said no matter how much I shove down my heritage, it will all pop up. And going to a place like this, supposedly super haunted, where many have had experiences, many have died... she said it would shock me. Electrify me." Her lower lip quivered as she met Arielle's worried gaze. "And... it did. The second we walked in, you were busy confirming the tickets, but I... I sensed it. A sizzling thing in my veins, like a persistent pulse in my brain. And I... well, I heard something. I can't describe it, but it drew me to Eight to look at Al Capone's cell. Then I saw the number five repeated in my head, over and over, and—" she stopped, smacked a palm to her forehead, and groaned, "—shit, I sound like Mom. I sound like him, like Zak when he's certain shit's happening around him, and..."
Arielle approached her friend. "Stel... let it happen. Jade... she wanted you to embrace your true nature, remember? And this..." she twirled on her heels, arms outstretched to show the surrounding area, "this is how it happens. You're reluctant, you hate this, you deny it, but... immerse yourself, okay? For Jade."
Stella puffed out steadying breaths as Arielle pulled out her phone and snapped pictures near one archway. A giant set of rusty bars cut off the remainder of the blocks, and what lay ahead were a multitude of small cells, side-by-side, on two floors, with flaking wallpaper. She gaped down the hall, shocked at the utter silence. And as she squinted, she spotted an ominous figure in the rear, floating between the ground and first floor—
"Whoa, what the fuck?" She lept backwards and shook herself—and when she peered at the area once more, the figure was gone.
Having regained herself, Stella lumbered up to her. "What? Did you see something?"
Arielle couldn't put it into words; a black glob, a fuzzy mist, a semi-human appearing figure—
Shit, what terms does Zak use?
"It... it was a..." She fumbled with her phone, searching through her Photo Gallery to see if any of her snaps had captured it. An odd relief filled her heart when she saw the first picture did—briefly, but enough to make her not question her sanity. A blurry shadow zoomed off to the side of her screen; faint, but noticeable. "That. It was that." She pointed at it and showed Stella, who took the phone and brought it close to her eyes.
"Oh. Oh yeah, I see it." She lowered the screen and pivoted to Arielle, concern drawing across her expression as she winced. "It's... I think that's what I felt. Whatever the heck it is. Was."
"A... mass? Isn't that what they call them?"
"I guess." Stella handed back the phone. "Maybe... we should return to the entrance." Her tone fizzled, weak and wary, and her nose wrinkled. "I'm... I don't like this."
"What?" Arielle glanced at the picture again, then towards where she'd located the mass. "I caught something, Stel! At our first stop! How awesome is that?"
And without any fancy equipment, too!
No tourists headed their way, all too interested in the more major attractions like the Synagogue or Death Row. No one noticed Arielle terrified but pumped with adrenaline, or Stella, petrified, hunching over, wheezing and wobbly—
"Stel?" Arielle kneeled near her friend.
Stella grunted as she straightened up, but her back was still slouched. "Okay. Yes. We saw something, that's what we came here for, right? So... we're good? We can go." She backed away, peering left and right and cringing as if with every step she bumped into someone.
"I did not pay twenty-eight bucks for us to come in here, run after your hunch, capture a shadow, and then leave with our tails between our legs." A slither of rage crackled in Arielle's tone, but she couldn't help it—how was Stella that scared? What wasn't she saying? "This is what we wanted! What Jade would have freaked out over!"
"I... I wanted to visit, to say we went here, to appease her soul." Stella looked at her worn-out boots with mud on their tips, the edges moving as she wiggled her toes within. "This sensation... it's getting worse. I'm... sick. Super sick." Pressing against her lower abdomen, she sucked her lips between her teeth and hissed. "I have to go, get out of here, it's... it's nauseating."
"No. We're not leaving yet. I want more proof, I want... to talk." Arielle swerved towards the cells and scanned her phone for the voice-recorder app. "I'm asking that thing some questions."
"Ari," Stella's voice was wispy and weakened, compared to her usual volume. "Let's go."
But Arielle wouldn't relent. She found the application, turned it on, lifted the phone above her head. "Hey. Hey, you, black mass thingy!" She almost chuckled at how ridiculous she sounded, but she wouldn't; not now, not so close to something potentially unexplained. Non-debunkable. Occult. "Where's Jade? How did she die?"
"Arielle, please—"
"—where?" Arielle rose to her tiptoes and gripped the phone so tight her hand ached. "And what happens after death, huh? Tell me!"
"Please, please—"
Towards the end of the row, not far from where she'd first spotted the ebony specter, a cell door banged open. Arielle froze, Stella muffled a gasp with her fist.
The door creaked and screeched as it moved back and forth, rattling on its hinges, the squeaks it made akin to nails scraping on a chalkboard.
And Stella hurdled backwards and screamed when it slammed shut.