“Yes, we're ready,” Sabrina said.
Marco and Sabrina walked to the back of the group, while James made his way up onto the concrete steps that led to the door of the apartment building. The structure was made of red bricks and the wood around the windows had been painted white. Marco didn't think it appeared all that much different than any of the other places on the block. At least until he heard what James had to say about it.
“Welcome, everyone, to the House of the Deceased,” James said. “I won't spend too much time talking out here, since most of the good stuff is actually inside. But I will tell you a few things that you might find interesting. First off, for those of you who didn't know, New York is said to be the most haunted city on the entire planet.”
The crowd drew in a breath in unison and everyone looked at each other.
“Yes, it's true,” he continued. “And on top of that, the building we are currently standing in front of is said to be the most haunted building in New York. What does this mean? It means we are about to step inside of the most ghost-inhabited structure in the United States. This apartment was built in 1890 and at the time, was often used for prostitution, underground slavery and all-around bad things. That's not the interesting part, though. What makes this place special is the countless sightings of ghosts from all who have ever stayed here. Of course, nobody lives here now. My company owns the building. But I'll tell you right now, there is no way in hell I'd ever spend a night in this place.”
“Why not?” Sabrina asked, her voice sounding loud over the quiet crowd.
James looked toward her. “According to history, there have been at least twenty murders here, including several murder-suicides. Mark Twain, the author, actually stayed here in the year 1901 and claimed to have experienced supernatural incidents, even before he knew that the place was haunted. Also, in the mid 1950's, there were three different tenants who were all sent to psych wards after just one month of living here. It's said that they all told similar stories to their psychiatrists; something about a man on the stairs outside of their door whispering to them while they tried to sleep.”
The tour guide looked very serious as he spoke, but it only made Marco smirk. He assumed that it was all part of the show. Sabrina, on the other hand, was obviously becoming a little nervous. She had wrapped her hand into the crook of Marco's elbow and was squeezing him tight.
“Now, if you will all follow me, we'll go inside,” James said, spinning around to open the door.
The rusty hinges let out a loud groan as he pushed it open. It almost sounded like the building was crying out, hurting from all of the torment that had gone on there over the years. Marco looked over to Sabrina as they walked up the concrete steps.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
“Yeah, I'm fine,” she said, still holding onto him with a death grip. “This place just suddenly feels a whole lot scarier now that we heard a little bit of its history.”
Marco tried to act tough and stoic, but he couldn't deny that a few goosebumps had popped up on his arms after hearing the story about the ghost on the stairs. A few more popped up when they stepped into the entryway of the apartment. The wood floor beneath their feet creaked louder than the door had and the smell of old mothballs entered his nose. The place looked infinitely more drab and creepy on the inside than it did on the outside. The only light came from a small window at the top of the first flight of stairs.
“If everyone will follow me up to the second floor, that's where we'll start our tour,” James announced.
The group followed him up. Marco and Sabrina were at the back of the crowd. She was squeezing him firmly as they ascended the stairs and it put a smile on his face. He liked that he was making her feel safe. He would protect her from any ghosts they happened to come across.
They all got to the top of the stairs and the group followed James into the first apartment on the right. Marco and Sabrina were still out in the hallway when they both suddenly stopped in their tracks and looked at each other.
“Did you feel that?” Marco asked.
A light breeze had blown across the back of his neck. It was ice cold and sent a chill through his entire body.
“I definitely felt something,” Sabrina said, rubbing the top of her shoulder. “It felt like a burst of wind.”
They glanced up and down the stairwell. There was only the one window and it appeared to be painted shut.
It's an old building, Marco thought. A breeze could have come from anywhere. But it is strange that it was so cold. It's a hundred degrees outside.
Marco wrapped an arm around Sabrina
's shoulders to comfort her. He could tell that she was getting nervous about being in the haunted building.
“I'm confident it was just a draft,” he said, leading her into the apartment to meet up with the rest of the tour group. “Or possibly the air conditioning.”
James overheard Marco and brought his attention to him. “Air conditioning? This old building doesn't have A/C. Did you feel something out there?”
Marco didn't want to make a big deal out of a light breeze, even though it couldn't be explained. “No, nothing. We were talking about something else.”
Marco held Sabrina close as they positioned themselves in the back of the group. The apartment where they stood looked like it had been neglected for decades. The paint was peeling off the walls and the floorboards were warped, twisting around like ribbons underneath their feet. It was the most dilapidated place Marco had ever seen in his entire life, even worse than the houses he helped fix in Haiti after a hurricane.
“I know that you're all wondering why I took you into this particular apartment,” James said. “This is where a very famous axe murderer lived for a short time during her young life. Her name was Lizzy St. James.”
Every jaw in the place dropped as they heard James' words. Marco felt as Sabrina wrapped her arms around him, pulling herself as close as possible.
“But don't worry, Lizzy only lived here for about two months,” he said. “So not a very long time, but still long enough to commit three murders in this very room.”