Ghosts of Rosewood Asylum by Stephen Prosapio Page A

side of the hallway contained what may
have once been nicer rooms with windows, large meeting areas and solariums
which would have looked out onto the back gardens.
    “Generally speaking, the patients kept on
the outer main floor were the least violent and safest to the hospital staff
and visitors,” Patrizia said. “Many roamed the halls with minimal supervision
and may have been people today who would be diagnosed with clinical depression.
Some were alcoholics needing to dry out. The upstairs rooms housed the more
dangerous elements.”
    “The folks they didn’t want decent people to
have contact with,” Rebecca whispered to Zach. “The ones likely to be haunting
this place.”
    XPI’s Occult Specialist maintained a strong connection to the supernatural
that had emerged from personal experience. Her mother passed away when Rebecca
was a toddler, but her only memories of her mom were from when she’d been six
or seven-years old. The discrepancy confused Rebecca; she and Zach had
developed a theory that her mom’s spirit must have visited her until she’d been
old enough to care for herself.
    “Are you picking up any psychic vibrations?”
Zach asked her.
    Rebecca shook her head. “Nothing. Nothing,
yet.”
    Sara and her cameraman swarmed in and out of
the group as they proceeded down the long hallway. Zach guessed that
ninety-five percent of the tour, absent any drama, would end up on the cutting
room floor. Still, it was necessary for them to understand the asylum’s layout
before wandering these halls in the dark.
    “This was the visitor’s area,” Patrizia said
when they arrived at a great room at the end of the hall.
    The room, situated at the asylum’s back
corner, connected the two long hallways that jutted out in 90-degree angles. It
would have allowed visitors to meet their friends and relatives in a place with
a nice view of the gardens without having to venture inside Rosewood’s innards.
Devoid of any furniture, the room was large, but felt unthreatening. The group
rambled down the hallway that led to the infirmary using thermal cameras to
check for cold spots and continuing to look for EMF anomalies. Zach couldn’t
help but chuckle at Winkler’s earlier comment. It did look like a field
trip.
    “Are the hallways this long on the upper two
floors?” Angel asked Patrizia.
    “Longer. Those floors are all patient
quarters. No large rooms on either end. There are also connecting hallways in
the middle of each wing.”
    Angel turned to Zach. “Between the two
groups, we’ve got fourteen stationary night-vision cameras.”
    “That’s cool.”
    “Yes, but without known ‘hot spots,’ we’re
only going to be able to cover a fraction of this place after dark.”
    “How many mini digital cameras do we have?”
Zach asked.
    “Six total.”
    “And we’ll have three pairs of investigators
each with at least one of those, an EMF meter and a thermal cam.”
    “Three pairs? Are you going to let Matthew
investigate?”
    “No,” Zach said quietly. He pulled Angel
aside. “Patrizia is going to team up with Shelly.”
    “Ohhhhh. That will go over well, mi hijo .”
    “Don’t you worry about it. As soon as we get
done with the tour, I want you to set up a technical command post in the lobby,
and I want you to take charge of the tech group and make as many of the
decisions as you can,” Zach said. “No slight to our Australian friend but you’re
the guy I trust.”
    “ Gracias, señor .” He mixed cultures
and bowed, Japanese style, at the waist.
    “I mean it, Angel. If something isn’t right
in regards to the set up, I’m going to hold you responsible, and if something
isn’t sitting well with you, I expect you to come to me pronto.”
    Angel’s acne-scarred face beamed. “Seriously
Zach, I appreciate that. I won’t let you down.”
    “Boys. Boys.” Sara’s voice echoed through
the vacant hallway. “Keep up!”
    The group had reached the infirmary.
    By the time Zach and Angel