April 7, 2025 • 13 mins
Thank you for tuning in to A Truly Haunted Podcast. Feel free to check out our sister podcasts, Bone Chilling Tales to Keep You Awake Podcast, Forever Haunted Podcast and True Whispers a True Crime Podcast. See you on the next dreadful episode. #scarystories #realstories #horrorpodcasts are #horrorpodcasts #horrorpodcast #horror #horrormovies #podcast #horrorfilms #horrorfilm #podcasts #horrormovie #film #films #movies #movie #horrorcommunity #horrorfamily #damnedmovies #moviesofthedamned #horrorobsessed #horrorfans #halloween #horrornerd #horrorfanatic #horrorpod #horrorfan #slasher #paranormal #horrorjunkie #horrorpodcaster #horrorgram #horrorcomedy #scarystories #scary #creepy #horrorstories #horror #scaryfacts #creepypasta #creepyfacts #creepystories #creepyfact #scaryfact #horrormovies #halloween #conspiracytheory #conspiracy #horrorstory #scarymovie #scaryposts #conspiracytheories #scarythreads #spooky #scaryvideo #horrorfacts #paranormal #horrorfan #horrors #scarymemes #haunted #horrorfact #ghost Warning: This podcast may be: frightening · scaring · hair-raising · terrifying · petrifying · spine-chilling · bloodcurdling · chilling · horrifying · alarming · appalling · daunting · formidable · fearsome · nerve-racking · unnerving · eerie · sinister
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Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:03):
Welcome to a truly haunted podcast.
Speaker 2 (00:08):
Southy Nows is here with us.
Speaker 1 (00:11):
The podcast that brings you weekly true ghostly stories. In
this podcast, you'll delve into the depths of some of
the darkest paranormal experiences that cannot be defined by anything
(00:31):
less than truly haunting. Haunting. Now, sit back, relax, and
let's begin our journey into the mysterious and unknown.
Speaker 2 (00:57):
Welcome to a truly haunted podcast. I'm your host, eve
As Evans. Today we have another haunting story for you,
So sit back and relax because ghost stories are up next.
Speaker 3 (01:13):
The moment I step through the doors of the abandoned hospital,
a shiver runs down my spine. I can't help but
feel like a trespasser in this forgotten place. The walls
are peeling and crumbling, and the air is heavy with
the scent of mildew and decay. Despite my skepticism, I
can't shake the feeling that something sinister lurks in the shadows.
Isn't this amazing, Cassie claims, her voice echoing through the
(01:35):
dark halls. She's practically balancing with excitement, her eyes shining
like a kid in a candy store. I've been dying
to explore this place. Really dying, I mutter under my breath,
trying not to roll my eyes. You have an interesting
choice of words, considering where we're headed. As we walk
through the seemingly endless maze of hallways, our flashlights illuminate
(01:56):
grammy floors and long abandoned wheel chairs. The whir of
the audio recorder is the only sound aside from our
footsteps and the occasional creaking of the old structure. Okay, Spirits,
we're here, Cassie announces as she enters yet another room,
her voice wavering between confident and uncertain. If you're around,
give us a sign silence. Maybe try asking nicely, I suggest,
(02:19):
smirking fine, Cassie huffs, before trying again. Please kind, Spirits,
if you're around, we'd really appreciate any sign of your presence.
Still nothing, I stifle a laugh, watching as Cassie's enthusiasm
starts to fade. But she's not one to give up easily,
so we continue our search for the elusive Spirits. Finally,
we find ourselves standing outside the morgue. My heart pounds
(02:41):
on my chest, and I'm suddenly aware of every breath
I take. The cold, sterile air sends chills done my spine,
and the smell of disinfectant mixed with something darker hangs
heavy in the air. Ready, Cassie asks, her voice barely
above a whisper. I KNOWD and we push open the door.
The morgue is as grim as I imagined. The room
(03:02):
is dominated by five metal drawers, each large enough to
hold a body. The sight of them sends a wave
of nausea through me, and my mind races with the
thoughts of the dead who once occupied the space. Wow,
Cassie breathes, clearly undaunted by our surroundings. This is incredible.
Sure if your idea of incredible is poking around a
room full of dead bodies, I grumble. Come on, she urges,
(03:26):
pulling out the audio recorder. Let's see if you can get
a response in here. We take turns asking questions, but
the silence remains unbroken. I can't help but feel relieved.
The last thing I want is for some restless spirit
to make its presence known. Maybe they're just shy, Cassie suggests,
trying to hide her disappointment. Or maybe I say, fighting
back a smile, there's nothing here at all. Hey, Hey,
(03:49):
you never know, She replies, her voice full of hope.
We might just catch something when we review the recordings later. Right,
I agree, But as I watch her face light up
with excitement, I can't help but be grateful for this strange,
eerie adventure we're sharing. Who knows what we'll find lurking
in the shadows. The show of the basement seeps through
my clothes as we make our way down the dark hallway,
guided only by the narrow beams of our flashlights. I'd
(04:11):
warn warmer clothes, but they do little defend off the
cold and damp that clings to every surface. Cassie walks
beside me, her excitement practically radiating off her in waves.
Even though she's been here numerous times before, each new
investigation seems to thrill her just as much as the last.
Almost there, she says, consulting the map one more time
(04:32):
before folding it up and tucking it in her back pocket.
I can't wait to see what we find me neither,
I reply, though my enthusiasm is not quite as genuine.
The truth is, I'd rather be anywhere else right now.
But something about Cassie's infectious energy makes it almost impossible
not to get caught up in the moment we finally
arrive at the door leading to the morgue. It's whiter
than the others, a testament to the gurneys that once
(04:53):
passed through carrying lifeless bodies. I reach the cold silver handle,
hesitating for just a moment before pulling it open. Stepping inside,
I'm surprised by how ordinary it all looks. The space
is nothing like the gruesome scenes from horror movies that
had played in my head on the way down. Instead,
the room is dark and utilitarian, with concrete walls painted
(05:14):
white and a matching floor that still holds a slight sheen.
To my left, a counter with a metal sink sits
beneath wall mounted cabinets. A door relates to what I
assume was once in office for the mortician. Wow, Cassie breathe,
already opening cabinets to investigate their contents. This place is amazing.
Amazing isn't exactly the word I'd use, but I kept
(05:36):
the thought to myself. As my eyes addressed to the
dim light, They're drawn to the wall directly in front
of me. Five large metal drawers protrude from the wall,
each approximately three feet wide and just as tall. I
know immediately what they were for, and a sense of
dread washes over me. Hey, look at this, Cassie calls out,
excitement and her voice. She's found something in one of
the cabinets, an old, dusty ledger. This must be where
(05:58):
they kept the records of the bodies brought in. I'm utter,
forcing a smile. Just what we need. Come on, let's
ask some questions and see if we can get a response,
she suggests, pulling out her audio recorder. We take turn
asking questions. Our voice is echoing through the empty room.
I struggle to keep my tone serious as I address
the spirits I'm not even sure exists. Meanwhile, Cassie speaks
with such conviction that it's clear she truly believes someone
(06:21):
or something is listening. Hello, she calls out, her voice
firm and respectful. Is there anyone here who would like
to communicate with us? We're not here to harm you.
We just want to learn your story. A sudden chill
creeps down my spine as we continue our search, the
air growing colder with each passing second, I catch a
whiff of something stale and musty, like damp wood left
(06:41):
to rod in a forgotten corner. The smell lingers, thick
and oppressive, suffocating the air around us. Did you hear that,
Cassie whispers, her voice barely audible above the pounding of
my heart. I strained my ears, listening for any sounds
out of the ordinary. The silence is deafening, broken only
by the faint creaking of the building settling around us.
(07:02):
The silence is deafening, broken only by the faint creaking
of the building surrounding us. Probably just the pipes, I mutter, unconvincingly,
Unable to shake the feeling that something is watching us
from the shadows, we continue to search the room, opening
every cabinet and drawer, our flashlights casting aery beams of
light across the cold concrete floor. Let's try another EVP session,
(07:22):
Cassie suggests, pulling her digital voice recorder once more. Maybe
a wile get a response this time? Sure, I reply,
trying to sound confident, even as my hands tremble with fear.
Why not? My take turns asking questions, our voices echoing
through the empty room, bouncing off the cold walls and
ringing in our ears. I struggle to keep my tone
serious as I addressed what I still believe to be
(07:43):
an empty room. While Cassie speaks with such conviction, it's
clear she truly believes someone where something is listening. Hello,
she calls out, her voice firm yet respectful. Is there
anyone here who would like to communicate with us? We're
not here to harm you. We just want to learn
your story. The sound of our breathing fills the room
as we stand in front of the remaining drawers, a
(08:04):
strange mix of apprehension and curiosity written on our faces.
I glance over at Cassie, noticing her slight squirm and
furrowed brow. What is it? I ask, concerned about what
she might be thinking. She hesitates for a moment before speaking.
I was thinking about laying down on one of the
trays and having you close the drawer so I could
have an EVP session. Are you crazy? The words slip
(08:27):
out before I can stop them. The idea of willingly
climbing into one of those cold metal tombs sends a
shiver down my spine. But I know better than to
try to talk Cassie out of something when she set
her mind to it. Probably, she shrugs, her eyes gleaming
with determination. She pulls out her digital recorder and hits
the start button, then turns to face the center drawer.
With surprising agility, she hoists herself up onto the tray
(08:50):
open the drawer when I knock okay, she instrokes, her
voice studied despite the situation, fine, I reluctantly agree, still
thinking this is a terrible idea. But I really don't
think this is necessary. Cassie ignores my protests and settles
down on the tray, her body disappearing into the darkness.
As I slide the drawer shut, the sound of metal
against metal echoes through the empty room, amplifying my unease.
(09:12):
I wait, listening intently for any sign she's ready to
come out. There's a muffled knock from within, and I
quickly grasped the handle to pull the drawer open again.
Cassie emerges, her face pale but determined. Did you hear anything,
I ask, trying to keep my voice steady. Nothing yet,
she replies, scrolling through the audio on her recorder. But
that doesn't mean there's nothing here. Sometimes it takes a
(09:33):
while for the spirits to make the presence known, right,
I mutter, I'm convinced, but as I watch her focus
intently on the task at hand, her face a picture
of determination and fearlessness. I can't help but feel a
newfound respect for her. Even if I don't share her
beliefs in the paranormal, I have to admire her courage.
Let's check out the other drawers, she suggested, once she's
satisfied with her EVP session, maybe we'll find something there. Sure,
(09:55):
I agree, swallowing my apprehension. If Cassie can face her
fears head on like that, than so can I. And
who knows, maybe tonight will be the night that changes
everything I thought I knew about the world. The sudden,
blood curdling scream that tore through the air made every
hair on my body stand on end. I fumbled with
the handle, desperately trying to pull the door open, as
the sound of frantic pounding echoed from the room. The
(10:17):
moment the door slid open, Cassie practically threw herself out
into the dark, her breath coming in short gasps and
tears streaming down her face. What happened, I asked, my
heart pounding in my ears. I had assumed she was
claustrophobic at first, but I couldn't see why she would
have gone inside the drawer if that were the case.
The air around us seemed to grow colder, and an
unmistakable stench of rot filled my nostrils. I shuddered involuntarily
(10:39):
and swung my flashlight around, searching for the source of
the smell and the chilling breeze. Nothing appeared out of place,
and within moments the odor and gold vanished as quickly
as they had come. Hey, Hey, it's okay, I murmured,
kneeling beside Cassie and rubbing her back in a feudile
attempt to calm her down. It took five minutes before
she finally composed herself enough to stand up. Let's get
out of here, she whispered, her face still pale and shaken.
(11:02):
Without waiting for a response, she darted towards the door,
clearly eager to leave the morgue behind. As we made
our way back to the first floor, she recounted her
terrifying experience inside the door, the overwhelming stench of decay,
the greasy, wet sensation of something dripping on her face,
and the barely audible whisper that sent her into a
blind panic. I don't understand how you're clean, though, I said,
(11:22):
struggling to make sense of what she'd gone through. And
something really did drip on you, there would be some
trace of it, right, Maybe whatever it was evaporated when
the door opened, or maybe it was just a homecination,
she offered, her voice trembling. I don't know, but I
swear I felt it. Either way, Let's just get out
of here, I said, my own nerves a frayed. We
hurried back to the rest of our group, eager to
leave the abandoned hospital and it's unsettling secrets behind. Did
(11:44):
you feel that, I asked, unable to keep the tremor
from my voice. Cassie nods, her pace fail as she
clutches at her flashlight. Yeah, it felt wrong, like something
doesn't want us here. Can't say I blame it, I mutter,
quickening my pace. We've seen too much tonight, experience things
that have shaken our beliefs to their core. What once
seemed like harmless ghost stories now feels all too real,
(12:06):
and neither of us can check the feeling that we're
not alone. The stench of decay still clings in my nostrils,
even as Cassie and I make our way out. Of
the abandoned hospital. I can't help but still a glance
at her, wondering if she's still shaken by what happened
in the morning. It seems impossible that we'd experience something supernatural,
but the evidence was undeniable. Is everything all right, I
ask her, my voice barely a whisper. Cassie nods, though
(12:29):
her eyes remained distant. I think so. I just want
to get out of here. As we leave the building
and return to our car, I can't check the feeling
that there's more to this that means the eye. Later
that night, after our nerves have settled somewhat, we upload
the contents of the digital recorder on our laptop. My
heart raises as we prepare to listen to the audio,
hoping it will provide some answers. Ready, Cassie asks, looking
(12:49):
at me with a mixture of apprehension and determination, Let's
do it. I reply, stealing myself or whatever might be
on the recording. When we hear the whisper that sent
Cassie in a panic, my blood runs cold. It's unmistakably
a voice saying her name, followed by the chilling sound
of something thick and wet, dripping. The room suddenly feels colder,
and I shiver involuntarily. Did you hear that? Cassie's voice trembles,
(13:12):
and I nod your name and the dripping sound, I confirm,
unable to hide my own fear. Who is real? Wasn't it?
She swallows hard. I guess it was. But what does
it mean? Maybe nothing, I muse, trying to reassure her.
But maybe there's more to this world than we thought.
Cassie never leads another tour group after that night. Our
experience in the Morgue has shaken her to her core,
(13:33):
and I can't blame her. As for me, it forces
me to reevaluate my beliefs about the supernatural. I never
thought i'd say this, but now I believe that there
might be spirits lingering after death. Would I be willing
to seek them out again? Not if I had a choice.
But as the memory of that night in the Morgue
continues to haunt me, I can't help but wonder what
else is lurking in the shadows, just beyond our understanding.
Welcome to a truly haunted podcast.
Speaker 2 (00:08):
Southy Nows is here with us.
Speaker 1 (00:11):
The podcast that brings you weekly true ghostly stories. In
this podcast, you'll delve into the depths of some of
the darkest paranormal experiences that cannot be defined by anything
(00:31):
less than truly haunting. Haunting. Now, sit back, relax, and
let's begin our journey into the mysterious and unknown.
Speaker 2 (00:57):
Welcome to a truly haunted podcast. I'm your host, eve
As Evans. Today we have another haunting story for you,
So sit back and relax because ghost stories are up next.
Speaker 3 (01:13):
The moment I step through the doors of the abandoned hospital,
a shiver runs down my spine. I can't help but
feel like a trespasser in this forgotten place. The walls
are peeling and crumbling, and the air is heavy with
the scent of mildew and decay. Despite my skepticism, I
can't shake the feeling that something sinister lurks in the shadows.
Isn't this amazing, Cassie claims, her voice echoing through the
(01:35):
dark halls. She's practically balancing with excitement, her eyes shining
like a kid in a candy store. I've been dying
to explore this place. Really dying, I mutter under my breath,
trying not to roll my eyes. You have an interesting
choice of words, considering where we're headed. As we walk
through the seemingly endless maze of hallways, our flashlights illuminate
(01:56):
grammy floors and long abandoned wheel chairs. The whir of
the audio recorder is the only sound aside from our
footsteps and the occasional creaking of the old structure. Okay, Spirits,
we're here, Cassie announces as she enters yet another room,
her voice wavering between confident and uncertain. If you're around,
give us a sign silence. Maybe try asking nicely, I suggest,
(02:19):
smirking fine, Cassie huffs, before trying again. Please kind, Spirits,
if you're around, we'd really appreciate any sign of your presence.
Still nothing, I stifle a laugh, watching as Cassie's enthusiasm
starts to fade. But she's not one to give up easily,
so we continue our search for the elusive Spirits. Finally,
we find ourselves standing outside the morgue. My heart pounds
(02:41):
on my chest, and I'm suddenly aware of every breath
I take. The cold, sterile air sends chills done my spine,
and the smell of disinfectant mixed with something darker hangs
heavy in the air. Ready, Cassie asks, her voice barely
above a whisper. I KNOWD and we push open the door.
The morgue is as grim as I imagined. The room
(03:02):
is dominated by five metal drawers, each large enough to
hold a body. The sight of them sends a wave
of nausea through me, and my mind races with the
thoughts of the dead who once occupied the space. Wow,
Cassie breathes, clearly undaunted by our surroundings. This is incredible.
Sure if your idea of incredible is poking around a
room full of dead bodies, I grumble. Come on, she urges,
(03:26):
pulling out the audio recorder. Let's see if you can get
a response in here. We take turns asking questions, but
the silence remains unbroken. I can't help but feel relieved.
The last thing I want is for some restless spirit
to make its presence known. Maybe they're just shy, Cassie suggests,
trying to hide her disappointment. Or maybe I say, fighting
back a smile, there's nothing here at all. Hey, Hey,
(03:49):
you never know, She replies, her voice full of hope.
We might just catch something when we review the recordings later. Right,
I agree, But as I watch her face light up
with excitement, I can't help but be grateful for this strange,
eerie adventure we're sharing. Who knows what we'll find lurking
in the shadows. The show of the basement seeps through
my clothes as we make our way down the dark hallway,
guided only by the narrow beams of our flashlights. I'd
(04:11):
warn warmer clothes, but they do little defend off the
cold and damp that clings to every surface. Cassie walks
beside me, her excitement practically radiating off her in waves.
Even though she's been here numerous times before, each new
investigation seems to thrill her just as much as the last.
Almost there, she says, consulting the map one more time
(04:32):
before folding it up and tucking it in her back pocket.
I can't wait to see what we find me neither,
I reply, though my enthusiasm is not quite as genuine.
The truth is, I'd rather be anywhere else right now.
But something about Cassie's infectious energy makes it almost impossible
not to get caught up in the moment we finally
arrive at the door leading to the morgue. It's whiter
than the others, a testament to the gurneys that once
(04:53):
passed through carrying lifeless bodies. I reach the cold silver handle,
hesitating for just a moment before pulling it open. Stepping inside,
I'm surprised by how ordinary it all looks. The space
is nothing like the gruesome scenes from horror movies that
had played in my head on the way down. Instead,
the room is dark and utilitarian, with concrete walls painted
(05:14):
white and a matching floor that still holds a slight sheen.
To my left, a counter with a metal sink sits
beneath wall mounted cabinets. A door relates to what I
assume was once in office for the mortician. Wow, Cassie breathe,
already opening cabinets to investigate their contents. This place is amazing.
Amazing isn't exactly the word I'd use, but I kept
(05:36):
the thought to myself. As my eyes addressed to the
dim light, They're drawn to the wall directly in front
of me. Five large metal drawers protrude from the wall,
each approximately three feet wide and just as tall. I
know immediately what they were for, and a sense of
dread washes over me. Hey, look at this, Cassie calls out,
excitement and her voice. She's found something in one of
the cabinets, an old, dusty ledger. This must be where
(05:58):
they kept the records of the bodies brought in. I'm utter,
forcing a smile. Just what we need. Come on, let's
ask some questions and see if we can get a response,
she suggests, pulling out her audio recorder. We take turn
asking questions. Our voice is echoing through the empty room.
I struggle to keep my tone serious as I address
the spirits I'm not even sure exists. Meanwhile, Cassie speaks
with such conviction that it's clear she truly believes someone
(06:21):
or something is listening. Hello, she calls out, her voice
firm and respectful. Is there anyone here who would like
to communicate with us? We're not here to harm you.
We just want to learn your story. A sudden chill
creeps down my spine as we continue our search, the
air growing colder with each passing second, I catch a
whiff of something stale and musty, like damp wood left
(06:41):
to rod in a forgotten corner. The smell lingers, thick
and oppressive, suffocating the air around us. Did you hear that,
Cassie whispers, her voice barely audible above the pounding of
my heart. I strained my ears, listening for any sounds
out of the ordinary. The silence is deafening, broken only
by the faint creaking of the building settling around us.
(07:02):
The silence is deafening, broken only by the faint creaking
of the building surrounding us. Probably just the pipes, I mutter, unconvincingly,
Unable to shake the feeling that something is watching us
from the shadows, we continue to search the room, opening
every cabinet and drawer, our flashlights casting aery beams of
light across the cold concrete floor. Let's try another EVP session,
(07:22):
Cassie suggests, pulling her digital voice recorder once more. Maybe
a wile get a response this time? Sure, I reply,
trying to sound confident, even as my hands tremble with fear.
Why not? My take turns asking questions, our voices echoing
through the empty room, bouncing off the cold walls and
ringing in our ears. I struggle to keep my tone
serious as I addressed what I still believe to be
(07:43):
an empty room. While Cassie speaks with such conviction, it's
clear she truly believes someone where something is listening. Hello,
she calls out, her voice firm yet respectful. Is there
anyone here who would like to communicate with us? We're
not here to harm you. We just want to learn
your story. The sound of our breathing fills the room
as we stand in front of the remaining drawers, a
(08:04):
strange mix of apprehension and curiosity written on our faces.
I glance over at Cassie, noticing her slight squirm and
furrowed brow. What is it? I ask, concerned about what
she might be thinking. She hesitates for a moment before speaking.
I was thinking about laying down on one of the
trays and having you close the drawer so I could
have an EVP session. Are you crazy? The words slip
(08:27):
out before I can stop them. The idea of willingly
climbing into one of those cold metal tombs sends a
shiver down my spine. But I know better than to
try to talk Cassie out of something when she set
her mind to it. Probably, she shrugs, her eyes gleaming
with determination. She pulls out her digital recorder and hits
the start button, then turns to face the center drawer.
With surprising agility, she hoists herself up onto the tray
(08:50):
open the drawer when I knock okay, she instrokes, her
voice studied despite the situation, fine, I reluctantly agree, still
thinking this is a terrible idea. But I really don't
think this is necessary. Cassie ignores my protests and settles
down on the tray, her body disappearing into the darkness.
As I slide the drawer shut, the sound of metal
against metal echoes through the empty room, amplifying my unease.
(09:12):
I wait, listening intently for any sign she's ready to
come out. There's a muffled knock from within, and I
quickly grasped the handle to pull the drawer open again.
Cassie emerges, her face pale but determined. Did you hear anything,
I ask, trying to keep my voice steady. Nothing yet,
she replies, scrolling through the audio on her recorder. But
that doesn't mean there's nothing here. Sometimes it takes a
(09:33):
while for the spirits to make the presence known, right,
I mutter, I'm convinced, but as I watch her focus
intently on the task at hand, her face a picture
of determination and fearlessness. I can't help but feel a
newfound respect for her. Even if I don't share her
beliefs in the paranormal, I have to admire her courage.
Let's check out the other drawers, she suggested, once she's
satisfied with her EVP session, maybe we'll find something there. Sure,
(09:55):
I agree, swallowing my apprehension. If Cassie can face her
fears head on like that, than so can I. And
who knows, maybe tonight will be the night that changes
everything I thought I knew about the world. The sudden,
blood curdling scream that tore through the air made every
hair on my body stand on end. I fumbled with
the handle, desperately trying to pull the door open, as
the sound of frantic pounding echoed from the room. The
(10:17):
moment the door slid open, Cassie practically threw herself out
into the dark, her breath coming in short gasps and
tears streaming down her face. What happened, I asked, my
heart pounding in my ears. I had assumed she was
claustrophobic at first, but I couldn't see why she would
have gone inside the drawer if that were the case.
The air around us seemed to grow colder, and an
unmistakable stench of rot filled my nostrils. I shuddered involuntarily
(10:39):
and swung my flashlight around, searching for the source of
the smell and the chilling breeze. Nothing appeared out of place,
and within moments the odor and gold vanished as quickly
as they had come. Hey, Hey, it's okay, I murmured,
kneeling beside Cassie and rubbing her back in a feudile
attempt to calm her down. It took five minutes before
she finally composed herself enough to stand up. Let's get
out of here, she whispered, her face still pale and shaken.
(11:02):
Without waiting for a response, she darted towards the door,
clearly eager to leave the morgue behind. As we made
our way back to the first floor, she recounted her
terrifying experience inside the door, the overwhelming stench of decay,
the greasy, wet sensation of something dripping on her face,
and the barely audible whisper that sent her into a
blind panic. I don't understand how you're clean, though, I said,
(11:22):
struggling to make sense of what she'd gone through. And
something really did drip on you, there would be some
trace of it, right, Maybe whatever it was evaporated when
the door opened, or maybe it was just a homecination,
she offered, her voice trembling. I don't know, but I
swear I felt it. Either way, Let's just get out
of here, I said, my own nerves a frayed. We
hurried back to the rest of our group, eager to
leave the abandoned hospital and it's unsettling secrets behind. Did
(11:44):
you feel that, I asked, unable to keep the tremor
from my voice. Cassie nods, her pace fail as she
clutches at her flashlight. Yeah, it felt wrong, like something
doesn't want us here. Can't say I blame it, I mutter,
quickening my pace. We've seen too much tonight, experience things
that have shaken our beliefs to their core. What once
seemed like harmless ghost stories now feels all too real,
(12:06):
and neither of us can check the feeling that we're
not alone. The stench of decay still clings in my nostrils,
even as Cassie and I make our way out. Of
the abandoned hospital. I can't help but still a glance
at her, wondering if she's still shaken by what happened
in the morning. It seems impossible that we'd experience something supernatural,
but the evidence was undeniable. Is everything all right, I
ask her, my voice barely a whisper. Cassie nods, though
(12:29):
her eyes remained distant. I think so. I just want
to get out of here. As we leave the building
and return to our car, I can't check the feeling
that there's more to this that means the eye. Later
that night, after our nerves have settled somewhat, we upload
the contents of the digital recorder on our laptop. My
heart raises as we prepare to listen to the audio,
hoping it will provide some answers. Ready, Cassie asks, looking
(12:49):
at me with a mixture of apprehension and determination, Let's
do it. I reply, stealing myself or whatever might be
on the recording. When we hear the whisper that sent
Cassie in a panic, my blood runs cold. It's unmistakably
a voice saying her name, followed by the chilling sound
of something thick and wet, dripping. The room suddenly feels colder,
and I shiver involuntarily. Did you hear that? Cassie's voice trembles,
(13:12):
and I nod your name and the dripping sound, I confirm,
unable to hide my own fear. Who is real? Wasn't it?
She swallows hard. I guess it was. But what does
it mean? Maybe nothing, I muse, trying to reassure her.
But maybe there's more to this world than we thought.
Cassie never leads another tour group after that night. Our
experience in the Morgue has shaken her to her core,
(13:33):
and I can't blame her. As for me, it forces
me to reevaluate my beliefs about the supernatural. I never
thought i'd say this, but now I believe that there
might be spirits lingering after death. Would I be willing
to seek them out again? Not if I had a choice.
But as the memory of that night in the Morgue
continues to haunt me, I can't help but wonder what
else is lurking in the shadows, just beyond our understanding.
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