“You got the camera?” I ask David. David tweaks and digs into the cabinets and closets in his dressing room, hunting for his bandana which he is to use while filming. David ignores me as he sets the camera up, which is on the table.

 

“Yeah.” he realizes that I asked him a question exactly a minute ago.

 

 

“Remember, we are going to go to the Hullberry Hill School principal, ask him about his school and get some juice on the rumours.” I tell him. My inquisitive nature is starting to get the better of me, pumping me up and readying me for this mission.

 

 

“So we interview the headmaster first?” David asks. I nod my head. I get my papers on the school and the cult connections. I honestly spent all night last night researching. My Macbook was seriously worked out and tired last night and I still have to use it today for our interview as part of the documentation.

 

 

“Hey, we come with the camera crew, alright?” I tell him, completely ignoring his question. David stares at me with a blank, pokerface.

 

 

“So what happens?”

 

 

“Yeah. The interview.” I kinda realized that he asked a question. “I interview the headmaster. You and the cameracrew collaborate.”  I give him all the instructions he’ll need.

 

 

“Hurry up, David.” I hassle him. The van that takes us to the school has already arrived and David is still not done packing his things up. “You should’ve packed those last night so you don’t cram!” I scold him. I arrange my papers and place them in a folder, storming out of David’s dressing room. David finally finishes packing up and trails behind me, carrying his camera.

Upon opening the door of the van, the crew greet us.

 

 

“Hey! What’s happening, yo?!” they casually holler. I raise my eyebrow, visible from above my shades and holler back.

 

 

“Sup? Working on this documentary. Already written a good intro. Need to flex my reporting skills.”

 

 

“No need for added flexing,” says one crew member. “You’re already boss!” My reporting skills, they say, are awesome and flawless but I think I could use a little bit of polishing. Maybe just a little bit more than what I already can do.

 

 

“Shut up, dude. If it was good, ratings would be soaring like an eagle!” I tell him. He smirks and shakes his head.

 

 

“Metaphor. Spoken like a true journalist.” says he. I just scoff at his comment and shake my head. I have to admit, it feels quite flattering to have someone praise my talent, but I have to stick to my own opinion. I have to improve them.

 

 

“Alright, let’s get down to business. Have you guys seen the school?” I ask them. They all nod.

 

 

“Yeah. Just the exterior, though.”  says one crew member, the one responsible for the cameras and lighting. “It looks normal.”

 

 

“Looks normal?” I ask as I try to climb up the van. David, who has climbed up the van ahead of me, helps me up as I sit next to him in the back compartment.

 

 

“Yeah. It looks pretty normal.”

 

 

“How normal? Like a typical school?” I ask as I reach into my bag for a granola bar. I’ve not had breakfast since this morning and I felt the need to replenish and re-energize myself for the interview and investigation.

 

 

“Yeah. Except for the fact that it is an old-school institution. It looks like those schools from back in the day.”

 

 

“19th century?”

 

 

“More like early 20th century. It is patterned after those early American schools.”

 

 

“Hmm.” I mutter, seemingly intrigued. “Seems kinda fitting to the rumours surrounding it. I can really imagine it.”

 

 

“They say it’s a-”

 

 

“Satanic cult headquarters. Yada yada. I know that already!” I impatiently say.

 

 

“Not only that. They say that not only demons reside in here, rather, there are also souls. Lost souls.”

 

 

“Lost souls?”

 

 

“Yeah.”

 

 

“So that means, someone died in there, too?”

 

 

“Probably.” says the cameraman, wiping his camera lens. I raise my eyebrow, given something to think about.

 

 

“I wonder if those souls are students or cult members.”

 

 

“I have no idea. I only viewed and took pictures.” he says. I instantly become curious and ask him for the pictures he took.

 

 

“May I see them?”

 

 

“Oh. Sure.” he shows me his SLR camera with the pictures of the school. Sure enough they were old looking as he said. The school’s walls are dark, deteriorating, and cracked, sign that it has been around for some time. The gloomy aura (or maybe it’s just Carl’s photography skills) makes it seem even scarier. Just the exterior is enough to send chills rushing and running down my spine but instead of feeling fear and intimidation, I decide to just let the spirit of determination and curiosity take over me.

 

 

“Zoom it in, Carl.” I tell him. He pushes the zoom button and with it, with the picture up close, we get to see the picture in clearer, better detail. I notice some strange looking carvings on the wall though I cannot properly see them. Careful probing and zooming allow me to recognize a couple.

 

 

“I see a circle...a star...”

 

 

“Symbols. Supposedly carved out by the zombiefied cult members.” Carl theorizes. I arch my eyebrows, still wanting to see it for myself. Who knows, it could just be a random scratch on the wall.

 

 

“I don’t believe it just yet. But it intrigues me. I hope we can take a better look at it. I would love to see it for myself.”

 

 

“It actually creeped us out when we first saw it.” Carl explains. “When I was taking pictures at the site, there were strong gusts of wind though it was quite sunny at the time along with some strange noises that seemed to be coming from inside.”

 

 

“Strange?” I ask skeptically. “Are you sure you aren’t just imagining things?”

 

 

“I’m pretty sure I wasn’t. Why would I?”

 

 

“No,because when you’re in a place that has a supernatural aura or connection to it, your mind begins to think about what could happen or possibly happened to the place.”

 

 

“I wasn’t.” Carl says. “I don’t imagine things about things that much.” This is when I start to slowly accept Carl’s account.

 

 

“Well, we’ll see.” I answer, not knowing what to say next. “I still can’t wait to get there, though.”

 

 

The van ride lasts for about 30 minutes as the destination isn’t quite that far from where our office is. Just a few twists and turns down the road and there you’ll find the school. The entire ride, as far as my stomach is concerned, isn’t a pleasant one. All throughout, due to its emptiness, I feel dizzy. I constantly ask my crew members if they have any snacks. No one answers except for David who has been hiding food the whole time, knowing that I have been craving and complaining because of hunger.

 

 

“Fine! Have these!” he hands me a bag of sweet potato crisps. I know that these things wouldn’t do but if you’re really hungry, nothing’s too bland. Everything becomes delicious. I grab the bag of chips from David’s hand and rip it open. Handful after handful, I stuff my mouth with sweet potato junk that I told myself I wouldn’t eat. Screw my diet. When I’m ing hungry, nothing can stop me!

 

 

Having eaten through the entire bag and fully concentrating on my food, I fail to notice that we have slowed down and are already parking. I shoot my head up and look around, mouthful of crisps. The van is slowing down, getting ready for its final stop. It is parking right in front of a metal fence that seems dilapidated and rusting with time. My eyes widen, imploring the wonder of the structure.

 

 

“So this is Hullberry Hill school?” I ask with wonder. I put the empty plastic bag away and sanitize my hands with my portable hand sanitizer. Once clean, I open the back door of the van and jump down. The crew soon follow with their equipment and as I dig my satchel for my folder containing my research material and guide, the camera starts rolling.

 

 

“We’re rolling now. But we’re just testing.”

 

 

“Wait. Don’t film me yet!” I wave my hand on the lens, trying to cover it up. I hurriedly organize my folder and the papers, arranging it from what I will say first to the last thing to close my segment. Once I have sorted it out, I am ready to speak.

 

 

“So first is my introduction, then...” I try to calmly fix them.

 

 

“We’re on in three, two, one. Action!” the director speaks as he gives the go signal for the crew to shoot. The camera starts rolling and prepared as I am, I begin to speak.

 

 

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I am standing right in front of one of the oldest schools in South Korea. Built by an American immigrant in 1930, the Hullberry Hill School has become one of the best and most expensive institutions in the land. Rumor has it, though that in the 1950s, 2 decades after it was built, new school officials began to mishandle the people and the institution. According to legend, this school was turned into a Satanic cult headquarters. Torture, , mind control, and abuse. All these were associated with this mid-20th century style educational institution. But what we want to know is, is it real or just another one of the surreal. I’m Tiffany Hwang and this is Sights and Frights.” I make the cut sign as the camera goes off. The director, cameramen, and I review the introduction.

 

 

“Your introduction is very good, Ms. Hwang.” compliments the director. “I don’t understand how the producers want you to change your style or upgrade yourself. I think your reporting is perfect just the way it is.” I blush at his compliment and smirk.

 

 

“They prefer the big budget guys. Those people they can extract big bucks from.”

 

 

“Meaningless, talentless people?” asks David.

 

 

“Precisely.” While in the process of reviewing my narration, trying to check if we still need to make any changes in terms of location or maybe a slight change of words. Everything is perfect, they say.

 

 

“Woah. Stop right there.” Until we see something strange. Something that isn’t supposed to be seen in the video. My heart races fast at the sound of David’s apprehensive voice.

 

 

“What’s wrong?” I ask fearfully.Being a perfectionist, I don’t want anything unwanted on my work. I don’t want any stains.

 

 

“Look.” David points at the camera screen. I look closely and fail to see anything.

 

 

“What are you talking about?” I impatiently ask. My eyes try to implore the video on the screen that they have been staring at.

 

 

“Look here.” David points once more at the spot next to the window. I look intently at it and my eyes, oh dear God my eyes, widen in fear as the thing that they have been gazing at seems to have gazed back at me.

 

 

“Oh My God!!!” I shriek with my mouth covered as they zoom the video in. Inside the house, by the window behind me is a figure of a young girl with long, messy black hair, in a white dress stained red with blood. is wide open, as if trying to devour something or scream. Her eyes seem to have been picked out as all we see are empty sockets. Evidence of torture can be seen all over her wounded body.

 

 

“Who is she?!?! How did she end up here?!?!?!?” I panic. David places his hands on my shoulder to calm me down. My entire body is shaking in fear. I am so close to fainting but I hold myself together for the sake of continuing the shoot.

 

 

“I have no idea.” David is also in a trance. The rest of the crew are shaken but not fazed. Especially the director. No ghost can ever sway his dedication to this project. Nothing can stop him right now.

 

 

“Guys, it’s just a ghost. Alright? Just a ghost. It can’t kill us, it can’t harm us. It can try if it wants to. It’ll only end up passing through us.” the director comments. He is really hot headed and committed to his work, that’s why he reacts like this whenever an obstacle is put in the way of his work. This is the trait of his that I admire the most and what I base my work ethics on.

 

 

“He’s right.” I say though I have been shaken. “Let’s go inside guys.”

 

 

“Wait. Aren’t you supposed to interview the headmaster first?” asks David. I suddenly realize that a strange confusion has come over me causing me to forget my agenda. I snap back into reality, after being shell shocked by the figure behind me and go closer to David.

 

 

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I haven’t had a decent meal yet.” I rub  my head, trying to tightly grasp my interview papers.

 

 

“Careful with those papers. Might drop them.” David warns. I tightly clutch the folder and though trembling in my heels, I brave my way into the dark, abandoned school with absolutely no lighting, relying heavily on the sunlight coming in from the outside. The hallways start to get darker and darker with each further step until the entire crew disappears into darkness and we find ourselves panicking to find one another.

 

 

“Oh God! Where are you guys?!” I call out. My attachable microphone is still on, thus eliciting much noise and echoes. I can hear the rumbling and falling and dropping of cameras and I tightly clutch the papers once more, with both hands this time. I am more afraid to lose my papers than to lose the crew. I don’t care. It doesn’t matter if I lose them right now. So as long as I don’t lose my head. But I think eventually I will be losing my head, judging by the darkness that seems to be growing.

 

 

“Where am I?!?! Where am I??!!” I am not in my most comfortable attire. Let’s just say that I’m in an Audrey Hepburn dress and heels, trying to look my most pleasing for the headmaster. This is a headmaster we’re meeting, not just some local person down the street. I have to be in my best, most educated behavior. I think the makeup artist did wonderfully in terms of dolling me up but I think that effort has been dumped in the trash bin now. I look like a mess!

 

 

My running continues deep into the darkness. I have no idea if the crew is still behind me for I have already gone deaf. Too much silence can make you lose your hearing. All I can hear right now is the thumping, booming sound of my heartbeat and the clacking of my heels. That’s pretty much it. My entire body goes numb but I still feel the thin sheets of paper in between my fingers. Yes. I haven’t let go yet.

 

 

I cannot keep running forever, I know. At some point, I stop running and bend down to catch my breath. I feel as though I am alone. My heart thumps faster and harder, wanting to squeeze its way up to my neck and out of my mouth. I feel sweat pouring from my scalp, to my temples, before sending a cold sensation down my neck. I feel really cold but the perspiration continues. I don’t know, but I think that because of my running, I seem to have lost all forms of consciousness. Confusing, I know. I am awake but unaware. Just breathing and existing in a 90 degree bent over position.

 

 

I straighten up after catching my breath, grasping at the brick walls of this ancient looking school. The walls are cold as ice, proof that the school has been around for quite some time. I don’t sense or am not sensing anything paranormal or weird as of the moment, except for the very long run I ran. I feel the walls for a switch that might turn a single light on or a window that I could possibly push open to let some sunlight in. I feel as though it’s nighttime in the daylight.

 

 

“Come on! There’s got to be some light here somewhere!” I still continue my feeling until I remember that I am a smoker. I lower my hands down to my hips, feeling for my dress pocket this time. My hands dive down into the pockets and fish out my pink Hello Kitty lighter. The Hello Kitty is just a sticker. No way Sanrio, a company marketed for kids, would sell a lighter to promote lung cancer. Anyways, I flick my lighter and out comes a small flame that acts as a baby torch for me. I am able to see clearly now. I spin around and see no one.

 

 

“Guys! David! Carl! Guys!!” I nervously call out to them. “Where are you?!?!”

 

 

Then, it dawns on me. I am alone. In this big school. That is rumoured to be a devil worshipping, child-abusing, sacrificing place. Great. I’m only 25 years old I’m about to die. Isn’t it marvelous?!

 

 

“Tiffany!?!?!?!” Oh God! Finally a voice! I move my lighter to the left, the source of the voice, lo and ho! I see Carl the cameraman. Yes! Our show is happening after all!

 

 

“Carl!” I run up to him. “Where are the others?”

 

 

“I don’t know. I actually don’t know what happened.”

 

 

“Me too. It’s like, we just started running and we disappeared from each others’ sight!”

 

 

“The darkness. It swallowed us!” Carl says. I catch my breath and place a hand on David’s shoulder, balancing myself.

 

 

“I’m fine. I’m fine. Are you okay?”

 

 

“Scared. Shaken. But fine.” Carl is also trying to catch his breath.

 

 

“Where are the rest?”

 

“I don’t know. But what’s important is you and me. We’re here and alive.”

 

 

“We can still go on.”

 

 

“I know.” Carl sounds a bit hesitant, as if not sure whether to continue this project or not. “But without the director, I’m not sure how this would turn out.”

 

 

“It would turn out fine.” I say with self-confidence. I know that even without the director, with my leadership and direction skills, this project would become a hit. Who says we need to follow a supreme leader?

 

 

“Are you sure?”

 

 

“Are you doubting my leadership?” I angrily ask Carl. I realize that I am starting to sound tyrannic again. It has always been an ill of mine. I believe in my skills and rely on my leadership abilities way too much to the point that I refuse to hear other people out.

 

 

“I’m not doubting your leadership. I’m just concerned about-”

 

 

“Shut it.” I snap. I hate it when people turn a blind eye to me. I am not a diamond in the rough. I can direct. I know it.

 

 

“Woah. Sorry.” I apologize soon after seeing Carl’s distraught. I turn my lighter on and without looking back, I walk along the dark alley with him trailing behind me.While carefully making our way in the darkness, I feel a strong presence creeping up from behind me. At first, I thought it was Carl so I ignore it but as we walk even further, Carl mentions something.

 

 

“I feel something in here.” My senses go numb knowing that someone is feeling the same thing I’m feeling. I am now convinced that the presence I’ve been feeling, the presence that’s been lingering around the hallway, is something not of the ordinary. As if that’s not enough, the strange “presence” that we have been feeling makes its presence felt even more by making strange noises.

 

 

“What was that?!” Carl panicks. He has just heard something that sounded like debris or bricks falling roughly on the floor. I hear it, too and nearly drop my lighter and set the school on fire in fear.

 

 

“Is the school coming down?” I ask frantically. Carl fails to provide an answer as we begin to run again.

 

 

This filming feels like an entire marathon. All we do is run, run,run.