X. Ghost stories. Part 1
1037 Words
Hiawatha five years ago looked identical, with the smallest difference in building five, which this time was the twin of one. There were fewer cars, the four didn't exist and the six wasn't even planned.
I appeared in the bathroom of what was Knuckle Heads of that time. Vuk carried me on his back to the residence. We entered through the part of the cemetery, which was fenced off, but now no gate would prevent me, never again.
Vuk returned to his original form and followed closely in my footsteps. The place was deserted. There were only a couple of guards in the booth reviewing videos with the screen control. I reflected the rays of the sun on my body and became invisible to the human eye. I walked over to where the guards were standing and looked up at the twenty-five-inch monitor on the wall.
"What are we doing here, boy?" Vuk asked.
"The guards at the residence told us some horror stories when we first arrived," I explained. "Well... I investigated on my own to find out if they were true." I smiled at him, proud of myself. "Just look and you'll find out."
The video was somewhat blurry, but I still noticed two individuals drinking liquor, and the third vomiting, all in the hallway of the stairs in building one. They passed him until another boy appeared, a boy about three feet tall, slim but strong, with jet-black hair, entirely straight and somewhat edgy in front.
They paused the video and watched carefully what was happening. At first glance I didn't see anything out of the ordinary: a party got out of control and the guests didn't end up completely healthy. The only one who seemed sober was this boy. He walked through the door and closed it behind him into the east outer corridor, across from building three.
"Okay, you saw it, didn't you?" The fatter guard said to the older man. "The kid is entering the third floor of building one, you see it, right?" The other just nodded, somewhat bored. "Now check this out." He pressed a couple of buttons until he chose a different file.
The second video showed the corridor of building five. Identical to three, but it was five because the camera had the building number impregnated in the lower right corner. The corridor belonged to the first floor. The same boy entered it, wearing the same clothes, but this time more agitated and fearful. He ran into building one, and climbed the stairs to the second floor, went out to the east exterior corridor, in front of building one, and ran quickly until he reached the kitchen, then hurriedly opened the door and entered it. He passed by and went to the bathrooms. The second guard rolled his eyes.
"Is that the kid?" He asked the plump man.
"Yes, that's him," he replied, with more desire than he would like to show off.
"How did he get from one place to another and then give him time to die in that room?" The old man commented.
"I don't know, and the FBI doesn't know. These tapes were taken months ago, but I made a copy before they do, just to find out where it went wrong that day."
"It wasn't your fault, James," the old man encouraged. "The kid lived under stress. He saw ghosts and stuff everywhere."
"And I never believed him..." There was nostalgia in his voice.
"And why should you?" The old man complained. "Just because the video gives you the wrong building number doesn't mean..."
"It does give the right number, that camera is still in place," he tried to explain, but the old man was stubborn.
"Cables cross all the time. How is it possible that the kid is in two places at the same time?" 'You tell me.' I thought.
"I don't know..." He put his hands on what was left of his hips and looked down, embarrassed. "There is another, which I don't understand at all."
"Another one like these?"
"Yes, similar. And someone appears that I've never seen around here." The old man c****d his face, surprised to hear it.
"Let's see, show me," he asked. The chubby man named James pressed a couple of buttons on the remote control and switched video.
"Who is that?" Asked the old man.
"I don't know."
The video showed a man, wearing a threadbare black robe, a rope belt, and black leather boots, as well as a hood covering his face. He entered building one and went up to the third floor. It was like watching Luke Skywalker about to kill children.
"This happened the same day the boy committed suicide," James explained to the old man. "I don't know, how about that guy has something to do with it? It looks pretty... creepy."
"Has the FBI asked about him?"
"Sure, and I told them the same as you, that I didn't know who he was and that he never announced his admission. The guy's a complete shadow."
"What about the outer cameras?" Asked the old man.
"The one in the booth, the one right up here recorded this."
The buttons made their click, and the screen switched to the residence park. In the background, between five and one, you can see a boy running at full speed from one side to the other.
"That's why he was panting," James explained. "But he had no reason to run this fast, no one was chasing him."
"Maybe he was high..." said the old man. "One doesn't know the nonsense that youth gets into today."
"Maybe." James looked thoughtful. "Look at the date," he asked the old man.
"Fifteenth... ok, I got it."
"Look at the date of the first one," he asked again.
"Twenty-fourth... hmm."
"Look at the date of the third, the one that should be the same day as the first."
"November eighth..." He narrowed his eyes again. "What the hell? These guys don't start arriving in December?"
"He arrived on December 10, it's on the record."
"So what was he doing running into the residence on November 8th?"
"I don't know," James said. "But none of this makes sense. Right?"
- Writer
