Voices in the Theater - Chapter 3

Do You Hear Them?

It was like being underwater.

Everyone was moving so slowly, and even though they were opening their mouths, I couldn’t hear their voices. Except for the ones in my head.

Get out! said the first voice. It belonged to a distraught young woman.

No! Don’t do it… pleaded a guy.

Get out! This time the girl was hysterical. A sob caught at the end of her scream.

I looked around the room, at the faces. Every one of them was still riveted on Eartha, who continued talking.

I still couldn't hear her.

You can't stop me… It’s too late, no one can help me. The girl's voice was resigned and sad.

Please don't do this... There was love in the guy’s voice now. Please don’t… Nnoooo!

She's ours... she's ours... she's ourrsss...

The last words were cold, strange, a chorus of many voices that had no gender. I shuddered.

...oursss... oursss... ourssss...

They sounded gleeful, in a sick sort of way. I shook my head, wishing I could get their voices out of my head. But now their many voices merged into a sinister low chorus of whispering and hissing.

...ssppsssttspssttssspssspspspsssttspssttkatrinamanuelsspsppsssttspssttpspppjosephyumolssspssssppsssttspssttssspsssmitchieborjapsppssspssppsssttspssttssspsspssssandrewdavidsonspsssppsssttspssttssspss...

The hissing sounds were overwhelming. They filled my head until I felt like I was drowning. Stop, please! I thought desperately. I suddenly had a horrible image of myself tearing my ears out of my head with my bare hands. Please stop!

...ours... ours... ours... hahahahahahaha!

"...and so we ran out of there as fast as we could,” Eartha ended.

I looked up at Eartha sharply, and when I realized it was her voice I heard I gulped in a huge breath of air.

The hissing voices were gone.

Everyone was moving normally now, and I could hear their soft breathing. My own breath was ragged, but no one noticed, thanks to Eartha's hold on everyone's attention.

More importantly, my ears were still intact.

Eartha now flipped her long honey-colored hair. "Of course we still have to go there sometimes, but now we always make sure to go in groups. And we bring crosses and rosaries."

"What's a rosary?" I asked.

The heads now turned to me. Part of me wanted them to stop staring, but another part of me wanted this new situation, if it meant I wouldn't have to hear the chilling chorus of voices again.

"It's a Catholic thing," Lana told me, squeezing my hand gently again, in her familiar, friendly way. "They're beads that we use as a sort of guide when praying."

"So guys, do you think this should be your first case?" Sir Julius was suddenly all business, promptly ending the staring fest and getting everyone excited at the same time. I wondered if he knew I needed this distraction.

Migs was nodding thoughtfully. "Definitely. Especially since we already have witness accounts."

"Alright.” Sir Julius sat back in his chair, assessing us. "So imagine you are a professional paranormal research group. Your objective is to create a body of research that will help you formulate theories and test hypotheses about paranormal phenomena. What would you do?"

"Interview the witnesses,” said Aris, a half-smile on his face. "Not just for this incident, of course, but for the other, similar incidents that happened in that theater."

"Good, good." Sir Julius was nodding. "What else?"

"Wait, we have to question them separately,” Migs said. "We can't talk to them in groups. I want to see if their accounts are the same."

"Yes. And we should have standardized questionnaires, not just for this incident, but for future ones as well,” said Peter.

Intake sheets, he said in his mind. I had no idea what that meant, but I was glad I was hearing normal voices again, normal thoughts.

"I can come up with a questionnaire based on the intake sheets we have at the hospital,” Peter continued. "It can help us separate the subjective experiences from the objective observations."

"Cool!" said Lana beside me. She giggled a little. "This sounds so professional."

"Oh, and I want to find out the real history of the place!" said Eartha. She seemed especially stoked, maybe because her story was getting so much attention. "We can check the records, see if anyone really died there."

"What kinds of records?" asked Richard, his head cocked slightly towards Eartha. This gesture seemed to increase Chynna's pout.

"I dunno... student registrations maybe? Find out if we lost any students there in the past years?" Eartha shrugged.

"How about tabloids?" suggested Karen, and Peter nodded beside her. "A death inside a major university isn't something you'd easily find in respectable papers."

"Right,” said Aris. "We can Google for stories in the major papers... but I doubt if local tabloid stories ever make it to Google."

"Unless they're in blogs!" said Lana. Her face brightened. "I remember seeing a friend's note on Facebook; he’d typed up this whole tabloid article about a shootout that supposedly happened in his subdivision. He shared it with everyone because the news report had so many errors, and he was really mad."

"Good, this is really good." Migs was half-smiling now. "So we Google and do Facebook searches for our university's name, the theater's name, and the word death."

"Suicide," I said, before I realized I was going to say it.

The heads turned to me. Expectant, excited. There was no backing out of this one. I took a deep breath.

"The cause of death was suicide. It was a girl, freshman. In 2005."

Six jaws dropped.

"Are you... sure?" Lana was looking at me with a hint of alarm. "How do you know this?"

I was quiet for a beat. "I hear things," I said, simply.

I waited for them to react. For about five seconds.

Aris was the first to recover. "Wow! You must have some really good connections!" He laughed a bit. "I've been in this school for two years, and I'm totally clueless about what goes on around here.”

I sighed quietly in relief.

"You're sure it's 2005?" Karen asked.

“That’s what I heard.”

“This is incredibly helpful. Really narrows down our search.” Migs gave me another of his indecipherable looks.

“Good job,” Sir Julius said, and caught everyone’s attention. I wondered if this was his gift—knowing when someone was getting uncomfortable from too much attention, and how to quickly divert it. “Let’s clarify the assignments now: Peter will give us a standard questionnaire by… next Saturday’s meeting? You’re okay with that? Good.”

Sir Julius started writing down notes; so did Peter and the others.

“Now, while we’re finalizing the questionnaire format, Eartha sets up interview schedules with the witnesses, and maybe get the necessary permits for us to visit the Little Theater on official org business. You’ll be working with Aris, Migs, Gary, and Lana—they’ll be the ones conducting the interviews, so it’s best to make the introductions as early as possible.”

Eartha smiled. “I can do that, sure!”

“Karen, Samantha, Vanessa, and Richard… you guys do the background research, give us a more solid story by Saturday. Now this is important. I need you to find out as much as you can, but you need to separate fact from fiction. Verify, clarify, and keep tabs on sources and references.”

“Got it.” It was Karen who spoke.

Sir Julius glanced at his watch, smiled, then closed his notebook.

“Congratulations, team. I think we had a very successful first meeting. See you Saturday, I look forward to your updates.”

There was a spattering of claps from the group, along with a few Yays. Then there was the collective shuffle of notebooks and pens being returned to their bags, and chair legs scraping softly against the wooden floor.

I sighed quietly, glad it was over.

The experience I had while Eartha was telling her story never happened to me before, and I had no idea why it happened now. Maybe because this building was really old? Or maybe that story was special in some way? Or maybe it had to do with the fact that the people who surrounded me now seemed to believe in the supernatural more than regular people did.

I had no idea.

I still wasn’t even sure if joining the group was the right decision.

But being around them now made me hope that maybe one of them could help me find the answers I needed… as long as no one asked me too many questions.

“Samantha?” said a low yet feminine voice.

I looked up and saw Karen, blocking my path towards the door. Uh-oh.

“I need to talk to you.”