Chapter 1

Sometimes the world around you is so quiet that you can hear your heart beating in your ears.

For people who routinely travel to abandoned locations in the middle of the night, it’s something you become accustomed to. Hell, you almost start preferring it to the “real world”. The still calmness of the night, while everything else in the world sleeps, provides a sense of comfort that can’t be found anywhere else. 

Greg Hill became a creature of the night after his father passed away in his teens. He wasn’t raised religious, but the traumatic event in his life led him to seek answers in the most likely, and unlikely, places on Earth. Over the years, this practice earned the title “ghost hunter”, but he always saw himself as someone just looking for answers. If he stumbled upon something in the meantime, it was interesting, but never his goal. 

That, it seems, has always been elusive. 

One night, poking around the shell of an old steel mill, he came across another individual with similar values to him. A man named Ezra. At this point in his life, Greg was accustomed to running into others during his night-time excursions, sometimes literally, but this interaction ended a bit differently than the others. In a way, he sensed something about this person that seemed to draw him in; or maybe it was Ezra who was drawn to Greg. 

Either way, the two of them became fast friends. Two individuals attempting to peel the layers of the night away in search of answers. Two souls cut from the same cloth. Over the years, with their combined efforts, they became two of the most “successful” ghost hunters in the business. 

Although, success is measured in different ways. For the two of them, they found theirs in helping the departed find peace. From the beginning, Greg always felt a bit aimless in his journeys into the night. Meeting Ezra helped create a sense of purpose for him. Ezra’s goal of helping these souls “pass into the afterlife” seemed a very altruistic endeavor and Greg bought into it immediately. 

The first time Greg was there when Ezra communicated with a spirit, and spoke to it in a way that brought tears to his eyes, he knew that something with Ezra was different than others he met. That night, Greg opened up to Ezra about his past, and what pushed him to spend his nights searching for spirits of the deceased. The two embraced, with no words spoken, but both knowing that a friendship had been born that night that would stand the test of time. 

That was years ago; fifteen years to be exact. Greg, being in his late thirties now, finds himself moving from job to job, never able to sustain a typical career. Which makes sense, considering most of his nights are spent awake, communing with the dead. For a long time, especially in his twenties, this had little effect on him. 

However, as he approaches forty, with no time for a career or a romantic relationship, the negative aspects of this life seem to draw on him a bit more than ever before. On top of that, the elephant in the room between Ezra and Greg is the lack of monetary-ambition in regards to their spirit-finding abilities.

Amateurs in the world of ghost hunting have littered the Internet with videos, pictures, and stories of interactions with the dead that are clearly faked, yet still find enough traction to gain a following; some of these followings with numbers in the millions. And with a following that large, they find fortune in the form of TV and book deals, as well as sponsorships for camera and flashlight companies. It’s almost getting to the point where the business is in how well you can fake what you are showing the world, rather than actually having legitimate interactions with spirits. 

As someone who routinely experiences this type of contact with the afterlife, it’s hard for Greg to not see the benefit of becoming the midnight mogul these amateurs strive to be every night. He and Ezra have spoken about it countless times, but lately it seems the conversations happen more often, and end more heated than before. 

Ezra’s argument has always been that what they are doing is not for their benefit, but rather the benefit of the deceased, and it is their duty to emphasize the importance of that by not accepting money greater than the cost of the job. The thought of creating an online repository of all their work, or signing a TV deal to become some personality, is the furthest thing from Ezra’s motivation and reasoning for his work. Which is part of the divide that seems to be growing by the day between him and Greg. Despite that night, where Greg opened up to Ezra about his reasons for navigating the night in search of spirits, Ezra has never divulged the true reasons for why he does the same. Or why he’s so successful at communing with the spirits. It’s all been a mystery to this point, and that’s starting to wear on Greg. 

That and the 14-day eviction notice found on his apartment door two days before. 

“Listen,” he starts to say, “I’m not saying we have to sign our souls away to some television executives for a bullshit TV show that airs every Wednesday night at 10pm, but some extra money would benefit both of us, don’t you think? You do understand that YouTube exists, and with the content we could capture, we’d have 10 million subscribers by the end of the week!”

The two of them are walking the halls of the Buffalo Central Terminal, in search of the soul of an old World War Two soldier who died in a tragic accident returning home from the war. Their first night in the historic building turned up with nothing, which doesn’t necessarily happen often. When Ezra spoke to the manager of the facility the next day, he nervously chuckled while explaining their “failure”. 

This did not sit well with the middle-aged man who coordinates the events held in the landmark building that helps fund the restoration of it. His disagreement with the choice of the board who hired Ezra and Greg to search the dark corners for spirits, rather than hosting parties that will help return the building to its former glory, as well as fund the growth of the college fund for his kids, was evident from the beginning.  His discontent with the situation simply fueled his loathing towards the two ghost hunters, and it showed in every wrinkle in his face. 

“You have been hired to complete a task,” he says with disgust, “I suggest you finish this task, so we can all return to being productive members of society. Well, at least some of us can return to that.” 

And with that he turned on his heel and left the two men standing in the grand entrance of the building, scratching their heads as to why they struggled to find the spirit they are after. The motivation to complete their task fueled them to do extra research before the next night, to be as prepared as possible to find the spirit and send him on his way. Regardless, Ezra’s anxiety was palpable throughout the day and into the night, which did not help in his response to Greg’s continued efforts to convince him to become a public ghost hunter. 

“Greg, we have had this conversation enough times now that I would hope you see it as out of the question. We are not going to turn our lives into a traveling circus, and subject these spirits to the uneducated opinions of the masses. These are misunderstood beings who simply need help passing on.”

Greg can’t help but roll his eyes. The darkness hides his sarcastic response, but the light from his EMF reader may have shown more than he intended, because Ezra dives right back into his monologue. 

“We do this for the tortured souls. They’ve been subjected to this halfway life by forces out of their control. It’s not their fault they’re in this situation, and it’s our duty to help them out of it.”

“But why?!” Greg exclaims, a bit louder than he intended, but his emotions got the best of him.

Ezra stops in his tracks, turns, and sticks his nose right in Greg’s face. The two have never physically fought over these disagreements, but maybe there really is a first time for everything. Ezra opens his mouth to speak, but fails to find the right words to express himself. He closes his mouth again, exhales his frustrations, and turns to leave Greg standing with his EMF reader blinking ever so slightly. 

“I just don’t get it,” Greg mumbles under his breath as he continues down the hallway, following the faint outline of Ezra’s shoulders. At that moment, the EMF reader blinks across all lights, signifying a reading might be close by. Greg perks up a bit, lifting the reader side to side in front of him. Judging by the signals, he moves closer to the wall to his right and the device responds in the positive. He starts pacing back and forth, up and down the hallway, trying to distinguish if the spirit is either behind him or up ahead. After taking a few steps back, the signal dies down, so Greg turns back to continue following the hallway towards Ezra, however as he looks up, he doesn’t see his friend anywhere. 

“Ezra? Hey, I’m finally picking something up here. Where’d you go?” he asks down the hallway. No response. Keeping his eye on the reader, he slowly continues forward hoping to stay on top of the signal. If he remembers correctly, there are rooms to the right of this hallway with adjoining doorways. Hoping Ezra sensed the readings as well, Greg continues up the hallway towards the nearest door that will lead him to those rooms. 

The readings continue to grow. The spirit of the soldier must be nearby. 

As he nears the doorway, a brilliant light shoots out from inside the room and illuminates the hallway. Greg stumbles back as he raises his arm to cover his eyes from the radiant glow now emanating from the room. 

“Ezra! What the shit is that?! Are you in there?”

Just as Greg approaches the opening of the doorway, the light dies instantly. He stops in his tracks to blink away the orbs now obstructing his vision. Rather than walk into the room blind, he takes the extra few seconds to re-orient himself to his surroundings. 

“Ezra, please tell me you saw that!”

Finally able to see some shapes in the darkness again, Greg takes the step through the doorway and into the room where the light originated. He’s forgotten the EMF at this point, which is now practically blowing up in his hand with lights. He can almost feel the electricity coming off of it. Actually, he can feel a sense of electricity across his whole body. Especially on his exposed arms, hands, and face. 

“What…” he begins to say looking down and wiping his body clean of whatever it is making him feel that sensation. 

As he looks up, what he sees makes his jaw drop. Somehow, some way, his friend of fifteen years is floating, ever so slightly, off the ground. His head is back; his arms and legs are splayed out like some force is stretching him. However, it’s his eyes that draw the most attention from Greg. 

They’re glowing. 

Greg opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out except a small gasp of air. 

He looks over to his left, at the end of the room that Ezra is facing, and a man is standing there with his arm outstretched. 

His eyes are glowing too. 

“What the…”