The Haunting of Westbane

Chapter Seven - A Hoax or the Real Deal?

Elijah

I sat at my makeshift desk in the garage, editing the new episode for the channel. I rubbed my eyes tiredly. After some debate, Jay and I decided to air the Edwards house as a sort of test episode to gauge how our fan base would react to the introduction of Harley and Mayah to the team. I wanted to be sure she had some traction with viewers before we worked on another pilot for my uncle.

One of the things I took great pride in was the quality of my editing. I watched plenty of the other ghost-hunting shows on the leading networks, and I hated the jumpy, blurred footage. That wasn’t paranormal investigation, that was pure sensationalism, reminiscent of the Blair Witch Project.

“Hey!” Jeremy suddenly sprang out of his chair. “Hey, check out this email!”

“Later,” I said, waving him off. “I’m almost done here…”

“No man, you’re gonna want to see this. I’m forwarding it to you right now.”

I sighed, feeling irked at the interruption, but I pulled up the email, and started to skim through it. I felt my eyes widen, Jeremy clearly seeing and murmuring, “Uh-huh,” as I went back to the beginning to read carefully.

Dear Mr. Elijah Remmington,

I have taken a keen interest in the recent investigations posted to your social media channel, Other World Investigations. My employer has recently purchased a property that I believe would be of interest to you. The Westbane Reformatory is listed in the “Top One Hundred Most Haunted Locations In America.” My employer is willing to offer you an exclusive opportunity to investigate this property. Please contact me at your earliest convenience.

Sylvia Warren

Public Relations Department

WIC Company

I sat up straighter. “The Westbane Reformatory? Are you f,ucking kidding me?”

Jeremy nodded like a bobble-head doll. “Right? What did I tell you?”

Picking up my cell phone, I waved my hand to signal him to keep quiet, as I tapped in the number at the end of the email. I put the call on speaker.

“This is Silvia Warren,” a cool, crisp female voice answered with a strange foreign accent that sounded vaguely Eastern European.

“Uh, yes, this is Elijah Remmington from Other World Investigations—”

“Oh, yes, Mr. Remmington. So good of you to get back to me so quickly. I would love to meet with you in person to discuss my employer’s proposal regarding the Reformatory. Are you available this evening?”

“Uh, yes, I can be available this evening.” I looked across at Jeremy with a puzzled expression that he reflected right back at me.

“Excellent. Please meet me at the Golden Lotus at 7:00pm, and bring your partner with you. Mr. Proctor, is it?” I looked up and met Jeremy's surprised expression.

“Um, okay, seven, at the Golden Lotus.”

“Excellent, see you there.” She cut the line. I stared at my phone.

“What the hell was that?” Jeremy’s eyebrows cranked up so high that his scalp wrinkled.

“Are we being pranked or something? The Golden Lotus? Do you have any idea how expensive that place is?”

I raked my hands through my hair. “What if it’s not a prank?” I looked down at my laptop, where the footage was paused over the teddy bear that kept going missing in the Edwards house. “What if they really are offering us an exclusive in the Reformatory? This would be the perfect opportunity to put together a new pilot for my uncle…”

“And what if it’s… like, a deranged fan, or something?” I couldn’t blame his skepticism - nothing this big had ever come our way before, and we’d been at this game for a while.

“Did she sound deranged to you?”

“Umm, no. She sounded kind of sexy, to tell the truth. What was that accent? It sounded kind of… Middle Eastern?”

“What? That was so not Middle Eastern. You got the east part right though - it was more like Slovanian, or one of those small countries near Russia…” Jeremy crossed his arms over his chest and smirked at me. “Okay. Fine. I have no idea, really. But she was not from the f.uckin’ Middle East.”

“Wanna bet? Loser buys drinks on Friday.”

“You’re on,” I agreed, pretty sure that I was going to be drinking for free in a couple of days. Chances were I would be drinking for free tonight. “So, you up for some gourmet food?”

“I’m your wingman.” He looked down at himself. He was wearing his signature oversized t-shirt and grungy sweatpants. “I guess I better go shower and change, huh?”

I laughed and looked back down at the computer. “We got four hours, man. I’m going to finish this, hopefully get it uploaded before we have to leave.”

Then we would find out whether this was a hoax or the real deal.