The MPS: Room 212 (Part 2)

in Scholar and Scribe3 months ago

Hello there! Part 2 is up! I hope you enjoy any and all surprises!

From the BBC adaptation of Lost Hearts, by MR James | Paranormal aesthetic,  Ghost hunting, Real ghosts

The cops came about an hour later. I saw Adeline standing outside the room, holding herself close. I went up to her. “Are you okay,” I asked.

She jumped, as if she hadn’t noticed me coming over. “Oh, um, I’m alright. Just, two deaths in the span of 2 months. I don’t know what’s going on here, but it’s not natural.”

I nodded, looking over at the cops. “I get it, but I don’t really got any advice.” She smiled a smile that made me think she expected that answer. “It’s the thought that counts,” she said. I smiled back.

“I could ask the cops about it. I used to be a detective,” I offered. She raised her eyebrows. “Huh. I should’ve guessed, you look like one. That’s very nice of you, but not necessary. We’re upping security, no matter if these guys get a lead or not.” I told her I understood and then went back to me and Logan’s room.

It was a few days before the cops stopped showing up and the case had gone cold. I felt bad for that receptionist, who I now knew was Ethan after reading his obituary. Even if we defeated the ghost, no one would ever know he was killed by a ghost. His case would never be considered closed.


“Find anything,” I asked Logan, handing him a bag of chips and Gatorade I had bought at the store next door. I had needed some air.

He smiled and opened the bag. “I think so,” he said, pulling a chair out for me to sit. I sat down next to him as he began to explain.

“So, apparently when this place was getting built, one of the workers died in Room 212, Michael Graham. It is said he’s haunted this place ever since, but none of the stories say anything about him killing anyone. I don’t get why he’d start now,” he said, eating a chip and offering me one. I declined.

“Maybe after all these years he finally broke. I don’t know about you, but I’d hate living in this hotel since its creation. Maybe he’s gone crazy,” I offered.

Logan shook his head. “I’ve never heard of a ghost going crazy. They’re usually that way to start,” he said.

I shrugged. “I got to be honest, I don’t know enough about real ghosts to say much, but one thing I’ve learned from hanging around you is anything’s possible. I mean, you’re my best friend, and you’re a ghoul. I fought a Christmas demon only a month ago. Nothing seems crazy anymore.”

Logan seemed to think I was right, because he didn’t argue. Still, he seemed confused, like this was something he'd be thinking about. I stood up, putting my hand on his shoulder. “Look, if you want to keep looking into it you can stay here. I’m gonna look around. Maybe I can get an idea what he’s tied to,” I said.

Logan didn’t even turn around, but he gave me a thumbs up, so I left the room and started my own journey around the hotel.

Truly, I didn’t know what I was looking for. I mean, I knew nothing of Michael Graham other than the fact he’s been dead for years. How was I supposed to find what was keeping him in the living world?

Not many people were staying here, which meant it was safer for them at least. Less people, less kills.

As I walked, I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up. It was getting colder as I walked towards one of the rooms. It wasn’t 212, so I didn’t think it could be Michael. However, who’s to say there wasn’t another ghost? I tightened my grip on my gun. Would it help? Probably not. But I felt safer holding it.

The door was unlocked and slightly open. I pushed it. They really needed to grease up the hinges. It’s hard to sneak up on something when there’s a creak announcing your arrival.

I ended up being right, there was a ghost in here. Just not one I expected.

“Alice?”

She looked at me with wide green eyes. “David! Long time no see,” she said. She was different from the last time I’d seen her, when Marina had called upon her. She was wearing a dark red shirt and a leather jacket. The colors almost made it look like she was more alive, even if her entire body seemed to be faint. She seemed more confident too, even if I had just caught her doing who knows what. She was at least more confident than the scared girl I’d seen get murdered.

“What are you doing here,” I hissed, coming into the room fully, closing the door behind me. She smiled and sat down on the couch.

“I’ve been hanging out around Marina’s house, invisible, of course. I overheard you and Logan talking about some haunted hotel, so I decided to follow.”

I didn’t know what to say. “I thought ghosts had to stay in one place,” was the only thing to come out of my mouth.

Alice shrugged. “Usually. But I’m not human, not really, so it makes me different. I can do things normal ghosts can’t.” She gave a half-hearted chuckle. “Guess being a nephalem has some perks.”

She had a smile plastered on her face, but I could tell she wasn’t actually alright. I didn’t fully understand what she was going through, since her experiences were completely different from mine. Still, she had died simply because of what she was born as, not who she really was.

She sat up a little. “So, do you have any leads,” she asked, changing the subject expertly.

I sighed. “Room 212. Michael Graham. He’s killing people, killed the receptionist.” Alice nodded. “Well, if he’s a ghost, then I can talk to him. Try to find out what his deal is.”

“What? No.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“I said no. I’m not letting you talk to a murderer,” I said, more confident. I remembered seeing Alice when the light left her eyes. The blood on my hands. I didn’t care if she was a ghost. According to Logan, they could still be hurt, even if they were dead. I would not watch her get hurt again.

Alice glared at me. “David, I’m a ghost. I can’t die again.” I shook my head. “I’m not letting you do this.”

She stood up, getting right in my face. “This is ridiculous. I’m dead! I can’t get hurt! If you’re trying to protect me, then you need to stop, because I’m not a piece of glass.”

I shook my head. “Alice, this man is a killer. I can’t with a good conscience let you do this. I’m sorry.” She scoffed. “No you’re not.”

I reached for her, but she turned away. She gave me the middle finger, and the next thing I knew, she was gone. Where she went I didn’t know, I didn’t know that much about ghosts yet.

I felt like maybe I should’ve let her help somehow. But I couldn’t. I failed her the first time. The first time we met was the last time she was alive. I wouldn’t let her get hurt again. Maybe that was stupid, hell it probably was, but if I could keep some people safe than at least I could sleep at night.

I left the room and continued looking. I tried to remember the picture Logan had shown me of Michael Graham from his obituary. Maybe if I could find a picture of him or something like that, it’d give me an idea of what was keeping him here. Or, if I got lucky, that picture could be the thing keeping him here.

As I was studying a picture taken when he would’ve been alive, seeing if he was somewhere hidden in it, I heard footsteps.

I turned sharply, my hand instinctively reaching for the gun at my side, while my other hand grabbed the candlestick.

Adeline put her hands up and I breathed again. “I’m sorry,” I said, putting down the candlestick and making sure she hadn't seen the gun.

She told me it was alright. “Didn’t think you’d be so jumpy if you’re into the paranormal though.”

I chuckled. “You’d think. If I’m being honest, I’m kind of new to this. Always been interested in this stuff, but I didn’t think it was real until I met Logan.” She tilted her head to the side, and I realized she hadn't met my dorky little friend. “Oh, Logan’s my friend. He’s here with me.” She nodded in understanding.

“So what are you looking for now,” she asked, moving to stand next to me and look at the picture. I sighed. “We think the man behind the killings is Michael Graham. He was-”

“A worker who helped build this place,” she finished for me. “He was a good man from what my grandparents told me. Tragic death though. Some say he can be found in the hotel.” She smiled.

I nodded, moving a step away from her as she moved slightly closer. “Adeline, do you know anything that would keep him here? Anything in this whole place that belonged to him or that he really cared about?”

She slowly nodded. “I mean, it’s not specific, but I know he loved painting. Painted all of the pictures here actually.” I looked around the hall. There were many paintings along the walls. Knowing Michael made them narrowed my search down, but not too much. I thanked Adeline anyway, trying to at least appear grateful.


“So he’s a painter,” Logan said once I explained what Adeline had told me. He smiled, looking at the picture. “Wouldn’t have thought that from this.” He wasn’t wrong. The guy was muscular and almost brutish, not the kind of guy who you would think would know how to use a paint brush.

I sat down. “It doesn’t help us too much though. I mean, there are how many paintings in this hotel?” Logan shrugged, turning to face me fully.

He furrowed his eyebrows, as if seeing something that I wasn’t saying. “What is it?”

I sat up and coughed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Logan crossed his arms. “I know you’re lying. I thought we weren’t doing that anymore.”

I knew he was right. All lying had done was cause us pain. Still, did I have to tell him who I'd seen. I sighed. He was my closest friend, might as well.

“I saw Alice.”

Logan almost fell off his chair. “As in, Alice Jacobson, girl who got killed and brought you into this? Ghost nephalem Alice?” I nodded. “The one and only.”

“What was she doing here?”

“She wanted to help us. To help fight the ghost.” Logan looked surprised, but he also seemed like he expected it. “I knew I felt something weird, like something was following us.” He looked me straight in the eyes. “What did you tell her?”

I sighed. “I told her I wouldn’t let her talk to Michael. That I didn’t want her to get hurt again.”

Logan made a small “oh” noise with his mouth. “So she’s probably too pissed to help us now?” I didn’t know for sure, since I didn’t know Alice too well, but I had a feeling Logan was probably right. He usually was.

We sat in silence for a while alone. Then Logan’s eyes lit up. “The painting.” I looked up at him, silently asking him what he was talking about.

Logan stood up. “The painting! There’s a painting in Room 212, where the murders have been, above the bed. It’s of a night sky. I thought it looked weird but I didn’t think-David we need to go.”

I understood immediately and jumped up. Logan handed me my gun and I threw him his lighter (probably not very safe to throw, but whatever). We were out of our room in 2 seconds and ran down the hall to room 212. Logan took out his stolen keys and fumbled to find the key when we made it to the room.

Then the door opened.

Logan quickly shoved the keys in his pocket. I looked at the person who opened the door. I hadn’t seen her before. Her brown eyes looked at us with concern.

“I’m sorry, who are you,” she asked. I looked over at Logan, who seemed to be trying to come up with a lie. Neither of us were successful in that area.

“Mom, can we go,” a voice said from behind the woman, which came from the pale face under her arm I hadn’t noticed. She dragged her eyes away from us as if it pained her and looked at the kid. “Of course, just one second. I need to talk to these people here.”

Logan finally came up with something. “No need ma’am. We were just looking around the hotel. I think we got our room confused,” he said earnestly, so much so that I would’ve believed him. “So this is your room?”

The woman nodded. “We just got here. I’m Sydney, nice to meet you two.” Logan nodded in response. I stepped in. It was like we were a tag team.

“I’m David, this is Logan. We're down the hall, room 218." She looked up to the room number, 212. Then she looked at me as if questioning how me and Logan were that stupid to not read the number.

"Which this is not," I said with a dopey smile. "Sorry for bothering you. We’ll be going.” I grabbed Logan’s arm and with one final smile we retreated to our room.

Once we got inside, I leaned against the door, trying to breathe. Logan looked at me with wide eyes. “David…”

Those people had bought the room. We couldn’t go in there, if they caught us that would probably get us kicked out. Or worse, prison for breaking and entering. But if we didn’t go in there, that woman, Sydney, and her child would be killed.

I slid down to the ground. Breathing was not becoming easier to do, in fact it seemed to be getting harder. The floor was cold, as if I was in Room 212 with the ghost. Of course this couldn’t be easy.

Logan crouched down in front of me. “It’s going to be okay,” he promised me. “We’ll figure it out. We always do.” Watching his breathing, I did the same as he did, and eventually I was okay. I stood up and Logan did the same. I tried my best to have a straight face.

“So, how are we going to do this?”

narumi — we're all just some ghosts walking around this...

This is officially one of my favorite pictures , and not just because this is how I imagine David and Logan spending their free time (if you look up narumi ghost it's the first that comes up, I think narumi is who took the picture).

Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter in the MPS' first evil ghost encounter! Aw, baby's first haunting! That should be a shirt. But back to the point. What do you think will happen next chapter? Do you think Alice will come back (and did you expect her to appear)? I have a lot of ideas now that she's brought back (as her ghost self, but still), so stay tuned! Have a good week!

Last chapter: @gracepro/the-mps-room-212-part
All other MPS stories are linked to that part, if you want to read those.