Ghosts of Rosewood Asylum by Stephen Prosapio

Electromagnetic Field
meters, or EMF meters, were used to detect the presence of spirits.
    “Residual hauntings refer to the residue
attached to places and things a spirit had been connected to during their life.
They are like looped reruns of activity the ghost had participated in during
their lifetime—things like laughter, speaking, giggling, music and singing. In
comparison to these snippets of paranormal activity, intelligent hauntings are
very rare. Intelligent hauntings are when spirits attempt to contact or
interact with the living.”
    Zach’s reaction to Bryce’s speech was being
filmed, so he nodded. He had to admit that Bryce had pretty much nailed that
explanation. Typically, there were important reasons for a spirit to conduct an
intelligent haunting; they weren’t always logical motivations, but uncovering
them was what Zach did best, thanks to his special gift.
    Bryce’s monologue was drawing to a close.
“Now, without further ado, here is Patrizia.”
    Patrizia smiled at the camera, and then led
the group down the long hallway toward the cafeteria. They peeked in each room
taking pictures and EMF readings just in case a daytime apparition lurked naked
to the visible eye. Angel needed to unlock a few of the rooms but most were
open. Many of the doors had long been removed, perhaps ported and used in other
hospitals.
    They approached the doors of the cafeteria.
“Hey,” Shelly yelled out. “My EMF meter just leapt from .04 to 1.8. Did anybody
else get that?”
    “I caught it,” Rico said.
    “Me too.” Zach’s reading dipped back to an
ambient .04.
    “It would make sense to get readings here,”
Patrizia said. “With this being the largest inside gathering place on the
property, it was also the most active spot for violence.”
    Zach, Shelly, and Rico scanned the room with
their EMF meters. None of them picked up a reading above .05 anywhere in the
room.
    Rico positioned himself in front of one of
the cameras. “That was a definite paranormal spike!”
    Bryce turned to Patrizia. “Did anyone die in
here?”
    “Well, I didn’t find any records of specific
locations where people died,” she said. “It would be likely that those injured
in fights here would have passed away after being taken to the infirmary.”
    “Not just gorgeous, folks,” Bryce said into
the camera, “but smart too!”
    Patrizia ignored the comment. “There were
several reports of violent acts here:  patients smashing trays into other
patient’s faces, fistfights, and even a couple incidents of forks used to gouge
out fellow combatants’ eyes.”
    She proceeded through the double doors and
into the wide-open space. Oversized windows made the room bright, but the bars
outside must have provided ample reminder to the long-ago diners that they
weren’t free. Along one wall, large square openings would have allowed staff to
pass food to patients and linked the dining hall with the kitchen.
    “I want to see the kitchen!” Shelly said.
    They herded through a door and into the
adjoining room. Dented and rusted metal cabinetry and countertops adorned the
room, but all appliances had been ripped out.
    “Yo, you guys, these aren’t the originals,”
Rico said, banging on one of the counters. “I’d say these are circa 1960.”
    “If they’re new, why are they all dented?”
Shelly asked.
    “Good question.” Zach’s finger outlined a
gash deep enough to have been caused by an angry gorilla. “Were there any
reports of suspicious fires in here?”
    “As opposed to unsuspicious ones?” It
may have been Patrizia’s attempt at a joke. “No. There were no reported major
fires or accidents in the kitchen.”
    The group soon continued out into the back
corridor of the hospital.  Rooms on the interior half of the hall had no
windows to the outside world. They reminded Zach of prison cells he’d seen
while touring Alcatraz—the flaking tan paint and grime on the walls cemented
the impression. Conversely, the outer