Matthew Cornachione - Dansk Bay Hotel

Too bad I couldn’t say the same for Nekker and the fishing hand.

I leaned on the desk, my whole body feeling wobbly, sapped of strength. As I cradled my head in my hands, I noticed a worn journal, yellowed pages speaking to their age.

That was a strange thing to find lying around. I almost brushed it aside, but an old journal had gotten me this far. I picked it up and cracked the aged spine.

Inside were the initials C.F. My heart raced as I scanned through some entries and saw that these were from the WWII POW studies. This journal must have belonged to Friedrich, the young, angry scientist from the museum journal. Eager, I searched for insights about how to defeat this spirit.

10-11-43

Initial tests were an absolute failure. Subject mortality rate is 100% with no sign of supernatural activity. I contend that our detectors need to be more finely tuned. Regardless, the elixir must be modified. I remain convinced that lithium is the key, but something stronger may be needed. Alas subjects are unable to withstand even mild doses. Challenges lie ahead.

3-5-44

Eureka! Our first success, albeit a small one. Subject 27 triggered an electromagnetic pulse on the detector across the room. The effect lasted 1.9 seconds before subject expired, a clear breakthrough. Still, its potency is limited. We must enhance this effect.

5-18-44

We’ve continued to make improvements. We regularly register activity on all four detectors for up to six seconds. Subject mortality still remains the primary issue. Only one subject has survived, and it suffered irreversible brain damage – useless for further work. The military is demanding something usable soon, and I intend to provide it. I think they are planning something big.

9-7-44

Progress has stalled. We have yet to achieve greater detector activity, but have decreased elixir volatility. In the last two months, approximately 50% of subjects survived, 10% without any discernible brain damage. Unfortunately, only two subjects survived repeat testing.

2-1-45

A truly auspicious start to the new year. Inspired by historical tomes from the Far East, we’ve modified the formula, and our potency has skyrocketed. Electromagnetic activity has saturated the detectors. Better still, we’ve had visual confirmation of our success, an image of a subject’s face floating in the room. The image is vague, like a cloud, but there can be no doubt that we have achieved full mind-body separation. All that is left is to stabilize the compound sufficiently to let the mind travel far afield. Currently, the effect can only be sustained for about thirty seconds.

8-18-45

Damn, word has come that the Japanese surrendered. We won’t be getting any new subjects. Fortunately, subject mortality has dropped to 5%, though lingering side effects are still common. We have argued to the government that it is too dangerous to free these last prisoners. They have agreed and our work can continue. We are too close to stop now.

2-6-46

We lost our last subject today. The elixir is much improved, but still imperfect. It leaves lingering damage to subject psyche. The cumulative dosage of several tests proved too much for even the most stalwart subjects. No word on where we will get new subjects, but I have some ideas.

8-11-46

No! This cannot be! They are closing us down. This work must continue. I know the answer is so close, just within grasp. Fortunately, I have a plan.

The journal stopped there and I stood up, stunned. Here was hard evidence of what was happening, what these ghosts really were. But reading it had been horrible. That man, Friedrich, had taken countless lives in pursuit of this fantastical elixir. And, he hadn’t cared one bit. He only wanted more people, or “subjects” as he callously called them, to poison. As if this government psychic program, or whatever it was, justified the killings.

He had to be long dead by now, but someone had found his old journal. Someone was still down in that lab, carrying on Friedrich’s evil work. If Nekker wasn’t the murderer, it could be anyone in town. I had a guess which one it was.

Chilled, I knew it was time to leave the cabin. I grabbed the journal; it would be evidence if I ever escaped Dansk Bay. Otherwise I’d sound like a crazy person.

But, even with this new knowledge, I was stuck. Nekker was dead, Thea wouldn’t help. I didn’t know where else to turn. Walking the train tracks to the next town was beginning to sound like a better and better idea.

I left the study, heading back through the cabin. Now that I wasn’t fleeing a spirit, I could see how old the place was. All the wood in the kitchen was splintered and grayed, the cabinets sagging, the refrigerator an ancient vintage. Dust covered everything.

Well, almost everything. In the living room I noticed a break in the dust, a trail leading into the front bedroom. Someone, or something, else had been in here recently.

My heart rate picked up again. I didn’t think that the ghosts could disturb dirt. It had to be a live person and I guessed only one person would live in such a creepy old cabin. Here I was, right in the middle of his lair. I knew I should get the hell out.

But, I had to know for sure who it was. I needed hard evidence.

Stepping into the room, I saw I was alone. There was little here, just a tidily made bed, and a nightstand with a lamp on it. And another journal.

I set the old journal down on the bed and picked up the new one. The pages in it were crisp, clean. I opened it, flipping to a random page.

4-3-15

They cannot be trusted, no no no no no no. But they are needed, yes. How can that be? How can all this be? Oh, but they will know the truth. Soon, so soon. This time, yes, this time, I am sure.

Rambling. Some entries were completely incoherent, lacking real words or punctuation. Unnerved, I thumbed through quickly. Nothing jumped out until I got to the latest page, marked with yesterday’s date.

7-15-15

New blood. The Nekker has brought it to me. Time, yes, it is time. Have waited so long. The new formula will work! It must. Tonight.

7-16-15

I could not touch it. How can this be! Harvested the other subject. Too early, but cannot wait any longer. No choices left. One last test, then I am free.

The Nekker has failed. But he will not hurt me again. And the new blood will be harvested. I will be set free.

My blood froze. Through the ravings, I could pick up enough. Nekker had been in league with the murderer and, as far as I was concerned, got what was coming to him. But the murderer was still after me.

Then a creak came from the floorboards behind me. I spun around just in time to watch a rod smash into my face. The blow sent me to the ground, nose smarting. I raised my arms overhead to defend myself, but it wasn’t enough. The rod smashed into the top of my head and the room disappeared.

To my surprise, I woke up.

Much less to my surprise, my head hurt like hell.

I blinked, clearing the fog from my vision. Aside from the head injury, I was pretty sure I was okay. Well, sort of.

Metal cuffs tied my wrists and ankles to a surgical chair mounted in the center of a windowless room. Dim fluorescent lights illuminated the concrete walls. The surroundings were drab, but all too familiar. I was back in the Dansk Bay Hotel and, if my guess was right, in the basement laboratory.

I twisted my head, trying to see behind me. Bad idea. Pain shot through my neck, crawled across my skull. Damn, I hadn’t felt pain like that since I broke my leg in high school. I closed my eyes, gritting my teeth until the worst passed.

With a deep breath, I opened my eyes and looked around again, this time more slowly. I spotted a few benches with vials and other chemical equipment, but most of the room was empty. Except there, on the far wall to my right, a heap of blankets by a fireplace. A bedroll? My captor was nowhere in sight.