Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was a chilly morning, more so than was usual for March. Martin took a deep breath of air, watching the cloud of vapour diffuse in the air.

“Martin, I get that it’s pretty cold, but I don’t understand why you have to wear a coat over 2 layers for an inside event?” Melanie asked him, tugging at her own jacket, a worn old thing more patch than the original fabric.

“I don’t know either to be honest, I just seem to feel the cold more than most people,” he laughed, “Wait, I think we’ve gone the wrong way.” Martin checked his phone in concern.
Melanie peered over his shoulder “Yeah, we’ve definitely been going the wrong way. For like- the whole walk, I have no clue where we are,” declared Melanie.

“Never mind, we can forge our own path.” She continued, extending her hand as if brandishing a sword.
Martin laughed again, “That’s my Melanie, onwards we march I guess.”

————————————

“It’s so rare we get an opportunity like this to meet people into this niche! Jon, at least try to be sociable today.” Georgie pleaded to Jon as they entered a large and important-looking building. It claimed to be hosting a ‘Paranormal psychology and research convention’ that day.

“Of course I’m going to talk to people, I’m not the recluse you think I am.” Jon protested, taking a sip of his iced coffee. “Okay, name the last person you had a real conversation with besides me.” Inquired Georgie.
“Easy, The Admiral”
“The last human, Jon”
“Errr… my old friend from school, I bumped into him while I was shopping.”
“And when was that?”
“About three weeks ago?”
“Jesus christ.”

Georgie opened her mouth to continue, but abruptly closed it when she caught sight of two people who had just entered the building
“Is that Melanie King? The one from that ghost show you like?” Jon inquired.
“I think so! Would it be weird to say a quick hello?” Georgie asked excitedly. She loved Ghost Hunt Uk, always keeping up with the show despite their rivalry in the paranormal scene.
“Go for it I reckon.” Answered Jon.

————————————

Though barely fifteen minutes in, Melanie and Martin had already been greeted by a couple of fans, and so were not that excited when two people around their age made their way towards them. Martin noted appearances. A girl just below average height with red and black braids that curled at the ends, she was closely followed by a tired-looking man barely taller than her.

“Hello there, I’m so sorry to bother you but you’re Melanie King, right?” The woman asked. “Erm yes, I am. Nice to meet you.” She replied, trying to hide mild irritation at yet another overexcited fan. “Georgie Barker, my friend Jon and I run a podcast called What The Ghost.”
“Wait, you’re Georgie Barker?” Martin’s expression went from a pleasant smile to curiosity. “Yep, that’s me! I had no idea you were familiar with my little podcast.” There was a light in Georgie’s eyes that Melanie couldn’t tear away from, and she found her irritation melting away.

“What? Everyone on our team listens to you guys, especially Martin and I.” Melanie said.
“Melanie King and Martin Blackwood? Fans of our podcast? We had no idea!” Jon suddenly piped up. Georgie noticed he was beginning to relax out of his usual antisocial self. “Both of us love Ghost Hunt UK too!” Georgie told them. Well, it was mostly Georgie who watched them but Jon didn’t mind the show really. “What can I say, it must be my spectacular cameraman skills.” Martin joked, earning a few laughs.

“Honestly, I love your show because you just seem so invested in a way that most of your rivals aren’t.” Georgie told them. “Well, that’s what you get for being childhood friends I guess? Martin and I spent the better part of our lives dreaming of starting this show.” Melanie replied, patting Martin on the arm.
“Really? Tell me more!” Georgie asked. “Only after you spill your secrets.” Said Melanie. “I’ll do the honours for that one.” Jon told them. “Did you know that the whole reason What The Ghost exists is because I turned up on Georgie’s doorstep after getting kicked out by my previous roommate for playing punk rock too loudly at ungodly morning hours?”

Ultimately, they spoke about many things, far more than either party had ever anticipated. They spoke of their admiration for the other's work, and when met with the same sentiment, the topics of their personal projects wedged their way into their chatter, of themselves, of their peers... In just the span of an hour that hardly felt like minutes, they had managed to bond with each other more than any of them had ever expected.
The conversation only ended when Jon looked at his watch, asking if Martin and Melanie wanted to attend a talk on fear and its relation to the supernatural, given by two researchers from a place called The Magnus Institute. They agreed, hurrying off to snatch front row seats. Hurrying may have been a strong word though, as Martin and Melanie ended up stopping to grab some drinks themselves.
—------------
Sasha James was observant, almost nosy sometimes. She enjoyed the guilty pleasure of people-watching, and had a habit of snooping around on her peer’s electronics. But most of all, she was good at noticing small details. Things that would pass by many people too caught up in the hurried pace of life’s unforgiving march. She found a sort of happiness in these little secrets, you could even say she loved to know. This group of four people, however, was not a small detail. As she walked off stage with Tim when their talk was over, the sight of them in that front row made Sasha’s heart rise to her throat.

“What The Ghost and Ghost Hunt UK! Together! I’m begging you Tim, this might be the only chance I get to meet either of them. “Okay then, but we’ve got to be back at the institute by four so don’t spend hours talking to your celebrity crushes.” “No promises Tim!” Sasha beamed. Tim gave an affectionate sigh “You and your ghost shows, Sash.”

The two groups were absorbed in a conversation until they were interrupted. This time, it was the two people who had just given the talk, one practically dragging her companion by the hand. “Sorry about this, Sasha saw you in the talk and wanted to say hi.” The man told them, reaching up slightly to pat his beaming friend on the shoulder.

“Sasha James and Tim Stoker, as you heard earlier, I’m a huge fan of both your shows!” Sasha beamed. Martin responded to her introduction first, he’d enjoyed the talk and thought they seemed to know their stuff.

“Martin Blackwood, I’m the cameraman for Ghost Hunt UK. I’m very impressed by your knowledge on the subject of fear.” Tim was observing the group, and smiled when he saw three badges of the pride variety on Martin’s jumper (he scanned the blue and green one, another which was a red, black and blue adorned with a pi symbol, and a final one that was more on the cotton candy side of colours.)

“Well, Martin, I find myself pretty impressed by you,” Tim replied. “Oh! Err, thank you!” Martin stuttered out. A bit of colour had manifested on his cheeks. “Tim! Sorry about that one, he’s off the rails,” Sasha apologised. “Says you, Sasha! Anyway, apologies. Please continue.

“I found your talk particularly interesting, because I quite literally cannot feel fear,” Georgie told them. Melanie turned to Georgie and found herself about to ask how, but she was cut off by an excited Sasha “What? That’s fascinating, I’ve never heard of that before!“ Sasha piped up. “Is it genetic? Did it happen later in life?

”Well, I actually had- what did you call it...- an encounter that caused it.” Sasha clapped a hand to her mouth. “When Sasha comes round from her trance,” explained Tim “she’s gonna tell you that you should take a trip to the Magnus Institute. We’re both researchers but the archives there are full of statements, you can literally just walk in there and they’ll take your statement and do some follow-up on it, all for free.

“Ohh, I’ve heard of that place before, I didn’t consider that people actually worked there though.” Georgie said, glancing at Jon. “Sounds like Jon heaven honestly.”
Jon crossed his arms in defence “And what about it?”
“Nothing, it’s just that theory I have about you.”
“Wait, what theory?” Melanie asked, and Jon sighed.
“Well basically, I have a theory that Jon Is actually the ghost of an old Victorian man named Steven for some reason.” Jon closed his eyes in resignation as a few people sniggered.

“I mean, look at him! Greying hair, dresses like an old librarian, he’s even got glasses chains for god’s sake.” She joked.

“Well, why’s he called Steve?” Sasha asked, she’d only just come round from the momentary shock of meeting someone with a real paranormal experience under their belt.

“It was just a feeling, you know?” Martin couldn’t help but laugh at that, stifling the chuckle with the iced tea he’d insisted on buying just before the talk. That very moment, Tim chose to do something.

As Martin was about to screw the lid back on, Tim tripped over and grabbed Martin’s arm to steady himself, causing him to drop the tea. “Oh gosh, I’m so sorry.” Tim apologised as Martin stared longingly at the now undrinkable beverage, spilt tea pooling on the surrounding floor. “Oh no it’s fine, I’ll go grab some tissues! Gosh, I’ve been so clumsy today.” Martin said to Tim.

“Well if you insist on cleaning it up yourself, you can at least take a bit of money to buy another one.” Tim told Martin. “It’s alright I promise-“
“I’m not keeping it.”
“If you insist.”

As Martin took off to find the nearest bin, Tim grabbed Sasha’s bag. He began to rummage in it until he held up a pen in triumph. Ignoring the current conversation and Sasha’s eye roll, he grabbed a wallet from his own bag and messily scribbled down his number on a five pound note. He folded it just in time to hand it to Martin as if nothing had happened.
“Here you go.” Their hands briefly touched, and Martin went a bit red again, but gave Tim a warm smile regardless. He smiled back, wallowing in that brief moment.

At this point, the conversation had turned to a discussion about future projects, and Melanie was talking excitedly about a place that Andy Caine, her co-host had been wanting to go to called the Cambridge Military hospital, and Jon followed by talking about asbestos and the lung issues it caused with equal excitement. Martin felt mildly worried by the prospect of said asbestos but Melanie seemed intrigued as she usually was, which weirdly calmed him.

From there, Georgie chimed in with some facts about lung function and the conversation turned into a deeply interesting discussion about the wonders (and not) of the immune system. Everyone seemed to be having an amazing time.

The talk came to an end only when a downhearted Tim dragged Sasha back to the institute as they were due to return to work in seven minutes. “Yeah, the library has absolutely everything, trust me. If any of you guys need some particular information or just some ideas, ask for Sash or me at the front desk and we’ll vouch for you.” Tim assured the others after they all exchanged social media accounts (an absolute priority).

Melanie and Martin had received a text from Toni, another colleague asking when they were going to be back as she wanted their input on which takeaway they should get. “Tell them anything but Mexican, I’ve ruined my own taste in takeaway Mexican by making it at home all the time.” Said Martin “They want Mexican.” She deadpanned, Jon and Georgie couldn’t help but laugh.

“Well, tell them I’ll make them something when we get back, it’s literally only 4PM and you can’t tell me they don’t want my take on Mexican food when I literally make the tortillas from scratch.”

“They must be mad if not, homemade meals from scratch are the best.” Georgie offered. “I remember when Jon made me paneer masala on our first date back in uni, I’ve been craving it ever since.” Melanie looked up from her phone, eyebrows raised significantly.
“Wait, you guys are dating?” Martin asked in total confusion.
“Oh no no, we’ve been exes for years now. Like I said, that was way back in uni.” Georgie corrected him.
“And you didn’t tell us earlier?” exclaimed Martin.
“It’s personal information that I am only willing to share under the discussion of Indian food.” Georgie joked.
“Well, they said sure, but we’d best be off now anyway.” Melanie announced, and Georgie recognised a hint of sadness in her voice.

“So, we’ll see you around!” Martin yelled cheerily to his new-found friends.

—----------

“Well, that was- amazing,” Melanie turned to him, “I never expected to meet Jon and Georgie, let alone become real friends with them.” Martin had enjoyed having a group conversation with the Melanie he was used to seeing, instead of the constantly sarcastic and sometimes rude Melanie many people didn’t get past.

“I think they really liked us,” Martin remarked, smiling. “Liked us?” Melanie shot back, grinning harder, “That doesn’t do it justice. Were you even there? And don’t act like that Tim guy didn’t like you, I thought you were gonna melt!” Melanie gave him a friendly little nudge as they walked. “He gave you money to buy a new one after he spilt your tea for god’s sake! Actually, you should check that.”

Martin retrieved the £5 note from his pocket, unfolded it, but quickly grew red again, and shoved it back in. “Oh my god. He wrote his number on it.” Melanie snatched the note from his pocket,
grinning like an idiot. “Hahaa! I knew it! I definitely saw him writing something on that note!” Martin stopped walking , head in hands. A muffled “Help me.” Could be heard far inside his coat. “I’d say give it a day or two, then text him and explain who you are, I’m not letting you pine from afar this time.”

————————————

“I still can’t believe we actually met them!” Sasha rejoiced. She and Tim were making their slightly hurried way back to the institute, and Sasha had a spring in her step that meant Tim’s walking pace was bordering a jog. “I thought it was gonna be all awkward and that but everyone was just- so nice!” Exclaimed Tim “I might just check them both out next time I’ve got a free moment.” “You really would?” Sasha beamed. “Yep, we could watch it instead of movie night this week.” Tim suggested. “I’d love that! I can get chocolate eyeballs to match the mood! Tim and Sasha loved making each other watch their shows.

”However, if you want to see Martin, cameramen tend to be less in-shot and more taking the shots, so you should probably try texting him.” She teased. “Wait, you’re all good with that right?” Tim asked, becoming more serious suddenly. “Yeah of course, I saw the pins too. Perhaps-”

Sasha was about to reply, but they both caught sight of police cars parked around the institute. “But that discussion can wait till later because… what in the world?” Sasha trailed off. There were definitely police cars there. As they got closer, Tim and Sasha stared in half-horror, half-curiosity at the sight in front of them.

At least half of the equally horrified employees were scattered around the area, two or three being questioned by police officers. Tape covered the entrance, and Tim’s stomach turned as he saw Elias approach them. He looked calm and collected as usual, but Tim could sense a mixture of something else hiding behind that serious expression. Triumph maybe? No, it couldn’t be that.

“Hello Timothy, afternoon Sasha. I regret to inform you that there has been a- situation regarding our Archivist, Gertrude Robinson. She is in fact, not on sick leave and has been registered as missing. Although I personally believe her to be murdered, as I discovered a pool of blood on her desk mere hours after you left.” Tim’s head spun with the information. He’d gotten the impression from Sasha that Gertrude was a badass old lady, someone who you’d never really expect to die. What was Elias going to do now?

“Well, there is one more thing. In the light of these unfortunate circumstances, Gertrude needs a replacement. Sasha James, I find that you are a hard worker who has shown great skill within your years at this institute, and I think that you would make a great fit as our new Head Archivist. Whether you take this promotion is entirely up to you. Bear in mind that you may choose up to three assistants to be transferred, and that there will be a significant pay rise. All I ask is for you to think it over. It would be best for both of you to go home now.”

Sasha was unsure what to think. A promotion to head archivist? She could never have seen that coming, not in a million years!

As Elias walked away to resume a conversation with a scrawny blonde police officer, Tim turned to face her again. Unsure what to say, he muttered “So, what are you gonna do, Sash?”

It was a very tempting offer after all.

Chapter Text

“You’re sure this is the right address?” Martin questioned Melanie as they drove down a run-down road, pulling in to a seemingly abandoned house. “I trust Georgie to recommend someone decent, but yeah, this is pretty weird.” She replied.

“Weird? This place is creeping me out, we should check the address again.” Andy offered. He was right to assume it was the wrong house. Most people setting their eyes upon the place would frown and complain about derelict buildings or whatnot.

The tiny front garden was bare of even weeds, all mud and a few broken tiles. One of the house’s front windows was shattered. Not to mention the filthy brickwork, it made the rest of that street’s homes look like a paradise.

Just as Andy was about to ask Melanie about addresses, a small creaking noise rang out through the quiet afternoon air. Martin and Melanie snapped their heads round almost in sync, just in time to watch the doorknob turn slowly, and the weathered door of the house open.

A figure stepped out. They were lanky, dressed in all black that matched their long badly dyed hair. the person carried a duffel bag presumably full of supplies but it seemed weirdly empty. Honestly, if they were not trying to figure out why on earth this person was doing in an abandoned house, Melanie would’ve been impressed by that eyeliner.

“Hey, it’s Gerard here.” The figure said as they opened the van’s door to an awestruck crew. “Apologies for the unusual residence, a man like me has got to be on the move.”

“Err, good to meet you finally.” said Andy, followed by an awkward silence.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Start the van.”

Melanie couldn’t help but feel taken aback. This man had just stepped out of an abandoned house, greeted them as friends and expected her to immediately comply? Well, at least he seemed to know what he was doing.

She glanced at him from the front seat. He made an intense eye contact, and Melanie suddenly had the feeling that he knew something- many things that they didn’t. If only Peter had listened to Jon’s asbestos rant and changed his mind about going. Well, she’s got to be open because changing her mind is not exactly a choice right now. And so she prompted Martin to start the van, its engine revving into life once again.

Melanie had saved up for it since she was 19 and bought it 3 years later, jokingly calling it the mystery machine from Scooby Doo. Was it weird to say the van was like a friend? She wondered. Melanie and the others had spent many a night in it, almost as many as they did at home. She knew each way the wide windows curved, the rough fabric of the seats. She could feel the familiar weight of the steering wheel even if she would soon be unable to drive with her eyesight’s current condition. She guessed that Martin felt similar. It may be dramatic, but why not take comfort in small things too?

The journey to the Cambridge Military Hospital was about two hours. The Ghost Hunt Uk crew had been planning to base an episode round the location for a while, but Peter, their sound technician had decided not to go at the last minute, apparently but not unfairly scared of the possible asbestos.

You see, in the months after their meeting, Martin and Melanie had been keeping contact with the What The Ghost and Magnus crew. They’d even managed to meet one day in April for lunch. Melanie had reached out to Georgie to ask if she had any contacts they could work with and was recommended a man named Gerard Keay. Georgie explained that she and Jon had worked with him on a few live location episodes, but warned them he was “a little bit unsocial” Melanie explained that it was fine, and that they could put up with it for the episode’s sake. She kicked herself for not inquiring more as his introduction had weirdly unsettled her.

Despite Melanie’s fears, Gerard seemed nice enough. He was bright and confident, always seeming to know the right thing to say and helped keep a pleasant enough chatter going throughout the 2 hour journey. Though it would’ve been made more enjoyable if he wasn’t lighting a cigarette every 5 minutes. Thankfully he seemed to get the memo and instead tried stick his head out the half open window (a failure which ended with most of the cloud getting in his eyes, he eventually resigned to stopping smoking).

Martin parked the van on a road a short walk from the building. Martin, Melanie and Andy had been itching to get to the place before it was due to be torn down for other purposes so it was a great relief to be able to visit even if they lacked Peter.
Although, as they approached the Cmh, something in his demeanour shifted and Gerard became tense. “You didn’t tell me about this place.” He claimed, voice tense with- irritation? Martin assumed. “Well, we did tell you where we were going very clearly.” He informed Gerard.

His eyes narrowed to match Martin’s expression. “Well yeah, but I didn’t know what was inside it.” Gerard shot back. Andy spoke. “Err, it’s a hospital, so probably a bunch of empty rooms and maybe hospital beds?” Andy was unsure how Gerard could’ve overlooked anything about this job, they’d been very clear. “That’s not what I meant- sorry, I forgot that it isn’t common knowledge. I just think we should take extra care today.”

Melanie and Martin exchanged confused glances. What wasn’t common knowledge? Was there something wrong with the building she’d missed even after intense research? His reaction was awakening fear of the place itself, which was unusual compared to the team’s regular attitude and definitely not the damper they needed on the episode production right now.

As they explored the building surprisingly devoid of remaining furniture, Martin managed to get some good shots in different lights for the potential portrayals of the place they could choose from. The walls were riddled with all sorts of inconspicuous graffiti, but that meant little besides the knowledge that this was a well-trodden path. Yet, when they had come across a particularly creepy piece scrawled in crimson paint read “silk will not stitch the butcher’s meat” Gerard started to get even more agitated. Martin understood to a point; it was likely made by some teenager trying to scare builders but those words sprayed in such a blood red colour were still disconcerting. Gerard continued his attempts to shepherd the team round the building. He kept telling them where to go and blocking them from certain rooms, at one point he went as far to physically grab Martin and drag him out of one room. It was incredibly inconvenient and everyone else began to feel on edge.

A blanket of darkness fell quickly, almost quicker than usual even in Spring, which meant the four had to stumble around in torches to get out of the old building. They sat huddled in the van eating dinner, although Gerard did not appear to have brought anything. Martin offered him half his sandwich, but the man simply shook his head. Melanie noticed him pull a huge book out of his tattered duffel bag. It was hand bound as far as she could tell, plus that seemed to be the only thing in there besides sleeping gear. She leant over as he opened it, watching with great interest as Gerard flipped to a page wall to wall with hand written text. “What’s that book? It looks really cool.” She asked. Martin and Andy took notice.

Gerry shut the book with haste, although the sound the pages made wasn’t quite right. They seemed softer from afar, slightly discoloured. “Oh, it’s nothing. Just an heirloom of sorts.” Gerry hummed, absently tapping the cover.

“I have a lucky stone with a hole in it that I keep in my pocket when we go filming. Is it like that but with an old book?” Martin questioned, half-joking.
Melanie snorted. “Whatever you do Gerard, don’t ask about the unlucky stone.” She teased.
“I mean, you could say my book and the stone have that in common, it’s lucky-unlucky to me.” He explained
“Lucky-unlucky huh, as in it’s unpredictable or that it was meant to be lucky?” Andy asked.
“It’s lucky, but it really shouldn’t be.”

“Huh! You’re truly a mysterious guy.” Andy remarked.
They laughed but conversation trailed away, allowing a moment of silence before Andy announced he needed the bathroom and Gerard sat down absorbed to check the book over. Melanie cocked her head, gesturing for Martin to follow her. Gerard obviously didn’t bother to look up from his book as they left the van for a moment and shut the door on him.

“Okay Martin, you’re probably gonna call classic Melanie for this, but I don’t trust that guy at all.” She told him bluntly. “Honestly, me neither. He’s nice and I think Andy’s alright with Gerard but you know Andy, they’re never worried.” Martin replied.
“Why do think he’s being so pushy about where we go in the building?”
“No idea, but with that weird book it’s probably fair to say that it’s not just bossy tendencies.”
“Martin, do you think he’s trying to protect us from something-“
Melanie glanced at Andy, who was approaching again. They were a great person, but Melanie had met them in university which was about nine or ten years after Martin, so the friends always felt it was easier to talk about people by themselves.

After they gathered a few shots to take advantage of the moonlit building- they were leaning towards a spookier theme- The crew decided to settle down for the night. Andy pointed out the wide entrance hallway mostly free of the usual debris, perfect besides the famed blood-red graffiti reading “silk will not stitch the butcher’s meat.”

Creepiness could not justify Gerard’s reaction; he seemed as if he’d rather stay up all night than sleep there. His insistence and defiance was agitating Melanie in particular and she was about to snap before Martin finally explained that they were sick of his orders and paranoia of this place. Gerard opened his mouth as if to protest, though closed it again in resignation. “Fine, I was only trying to save some trouble.” He muttered. As they finished the last shoots, he became slightly better company.

It was a quiet start to the night, and everyone was quick to settle down into their nightwear and sleeping bags. Andy was exhausted and the first to drift off, Martin and Melanie staying up past 11 despite Martin’s 4-6 AM shift. It was weird, they just got so absorbed telling more stories about starting a ghost hunting show and Gerry’s gaze just seemed to pull the knowledge out of them. Although, neither of them noticed how he dodged questions about his experiences, almost as if they were bullets. Or how he was still clutching that huge leather book. It was only when Gerry started tiredly rambling about how he wasn’t smoking because it’d “blow their cover” that everyone began to fall into sleep.

Melanie awoke that night in a panic, swallowed by a pitch-black blur of her surroundings. She found her bag and fumbled around for her torch and glasses. As she put them on and took a breath, she remembered, and that panic melted down into the pit of her stomach as familiar dread concerning her sight.

Ironically Melanie “Resent and remember” King often forgot about the depths of her vision problems. She liked to pretend that it wasn’t declining, that it was just regular short-sightedness or whatever instead, but that had become basically impossible now that she was in fact legally blind and close to needing a cane. She missed driving that van.

She took a few more deep breaths. Those thoughts could wait till morning, then she could go and tell Andy and Martin without disturbing them from such a peaceful sleep. Maybe even that Gerard too- wait, where was Gerard? She glanced around, shining her torch at his empty sleeping bag and the surrounding hallway. She went tense. Where’d he gone?Were those voices? She strained her ears in the silence and caught them again. Perhaps he or someone else was in trouble, Melanie couldn’t let this slide.

Melanie rose slowly, grabbing her handheld video camera on night vision mode. She followed the bouncing echo of the voices for a few minutes, till she came to a familiar corridor. Looking at a particular entryway, Melanie remembered with a start that Gerry had pulled Martin out of it earlier. She anticipated what Gerry was hiding as she crept up to the door, heart pounding like a clunky machine.

An old woman stood next to Gerry. Her hair was pulled into a severe bun that only highlighted her many scars and wrinkles. Her eyes, however, had the same glint of wisdom as Gerry. Somehow, she was stood- no, levitating? On top of that ancient book Gerry had. The woman was weirdly translucent as well.

The moment felt surreal. Melanie wasn’t sure whether to be excited out terrified had caught a true, solid ghost? She checked the camera was recording for evidence, listening closer to the mutters.

“Listen, I didn’t bring them here, I was just tagging along to see how the general public are currently functioning with the entities.” Gerard explained, seemingly arguing with the woman. “Well, I’m sure you could’ve looked at hauntings and figured out that this place was a stronghold for The Circus!” She retaliated. “I did! They all seemed very typical hauntings, grey ladies and stuff.” There was a pause and the old lady looked at him with a puzzled expression “Honestly Gertrude, perhaps a part of me wanted company too.”
“You were lonely?”
“If you say so.” Gerry mumbled.
Gertrude sighed “I understand. I’ve never been the best of company, especially not in this state.”

There was a beat of silence, Melanie couldn’t even move.

“Well, now we’re here, what can we do?”

At that point, Melanie started to zone out on what exactly they were saying. She was scared and her head throbbed with exhaustion, so it was hard to keep track of the strange things they said. After a while,’could’ve been minutes or hours, Gerard sighed and said goodbye to the woman called Gertrude. That was when the weirdest part happened: It was impossible to witness, let alone describe. The lady somehow melted and sank into the book, as if it was wax in boiling hot quicksand. Melanie watched transfixed as her wrinkles filled and existence warped, till all that was left was the open book, which Gerry closed with a heavy sigh. She summed up enough willpower to back away as he left the room, but that took a lot of energy and left her slumped against the wall. Feeling a sudden wave of nausea wash other her, Melanie hugged her knees against her chest and everything went entirely black. By some miracle, she still managed to wake up to daylight in her sleeping bag.

It was clear to Martin that something was up with Melanie. She looked exhausted, the usual colour in her face muted. She kept glancing over her shoulder at Gerry when they were packing up the equipment. What had happened?

Martin gave her a look as they climbed into the van. Melanie instantly understood what he was trying to do
“It’s nothing, just didn’t sleep much.” She snapped at him, starting the engine with a jerk.

“Yeah yeah I get it, this place is actually pretty creepy. Surprised we didn’t get another ghost sighting honestly.” A sudden stiffness consumed Melanie as she tried to push down the memories. She was certain it hadn’t been a dream, she remembered too much.

Gerry definitely knew that something was up. She watched him almost in envy as he climbed into the seat next to Martin, that awful book in hand. It was envy that he could remain so calm, friendly even, to that strange old woman in the book. He smiled at Melanie, but it was a knowing one.

The car ride back was less pleasant. Andy and Gerry both tried to strike a conversation but were immediately struck down by the tense atmosphere.

Despite her reassurances that everything was fine, Martin was still awfully concerned about Melanie. Well, maybe it wasn’t just concern.

A part of him was almost hopeful but he was afraid to admit it. Had they finally captured evidence, proof that the ghosts they advocated for were real? Perhaps that was why he’d been so scared in that old military hospital.

Guilt in the pit of his stomach, Martin put on his headphones, put his favourite old playlist on shuffle and chalked up asking Melanie what had happened as an endeavour for tomorrow.