Ghost Hunt 2: MORE Chilling Tales of the Unknown Read online

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  Table of Contents

  The Ghost Hunt Expert Guide

  Copyright Page

  I dedicate this book to my daughters, Samantha, Haily, and Satori, and my twin sons, Austin and Logan. I love you more than life itself and thank you for every minute you have allowed me to be your father and your friend. You five have made every day of my life truly the best one could ever hope for.

  To my wife, Kristen, whom I love endlessly. Since we met in seventh grade, you have never stood in front of me or behind me; you have always been beside me, helping me find my way.

  To every member of TAPS, past, present, and future. You are the backbone of this group and what it has accomplished. It has taken sacrifices from us all to push this field ahead.

  Last but not least, this book is dedicated to all the people who invest their time in this field. From the skeptics to the believers, from the hunters to the researchers—you are all part of this powerful and unstoppable movement. You should all take a bow for what you have accomplished.

  —JASON HAWES

  I dedicate this book to my amazing children, Connor, Noah, and Jonah, and to all the future ghost hunters out there. To all children who decide not to be afraid of the dark, but rather to embrace it and own it. To those who boldly conquer ignorance with imagination and intelligence. May you take my torch and carry it farther than I ever could. And, of course, to my lovely wife, Reanna, the very pillar of my life.

  —GRANT WILSON

  INTRODUCTION

  We started our first Ghost Hunt book

  with a simple question:

  Do you like ghost stories?

  Well, it looks like you do. We have received so many letters from readers saying how interesting and spooky the stories are, and many of you have even tried your own ghost hunt investigations. Awesome!

  We are so happy to be back with Ghost Hunt 2: MORE Chilling Tales of the Unknown. The stories are all based on real cases that we investigated. All the strange events you will read about in here really happened.

  As we were working on this book, we wanted to give you a variety of the kinds of investigations to read about. And we have to admit that we think these stories are even spookier than the ones in the first book.

  “The Ghosts of Alcatraz” takes place in the most famous prison in the country. It’s a tourist attraction now and no longer used as a jail. Many people have claimed it is haunted. Walking through the dark halls was scary enough, but the sounds we heard coming from the empty cells were even scarier!

  “It’s Just a Dream” may be one of the most interesting cases we’ve ever investigated. In that story, a woman has terrifying nightmares. In her dreams, a dark figure is trying to harm her. That sounds bad, right? But what’s worse is that the nightmares come true.

  “Restless Spirit” and “Ghost Town” have twists that will surprise you. “Runaway Ghost” and “The Beast in the Dark” might make you feel a little sad for the spirits. “Play Dead” might make you smile.

  And “Cries in the Night” may just be the scariest story ever. See if you agree.

  Don’t forget to go to www.GhostHuntBooks.com so you can see and hear some of the evidence from the cases for yourself.

  Then check out the Ghost Hunt Expert Guide in the back of the book. It has some advanced tips and two quizzes that will show you whether you’ve got what it takes to be a real ghost hunter. But we know that you do!

  As we always say:

  On to the next one!

  JASON HAWES and GRANT WILSON

  CRIES IN THE NIGHT

  “Where are you? I can’t see you!”

  Lyssa stumbled along the rocky seashore. Dense fog wrapped around her with a cold and clammy embrace, so thick that she couldn’t see where she was going. Lyssa could hear the waves pounding against the shore, but she couldn’t see the water through the hazy vapor. She also couldn’t see the other members of the TAPS team, but she knew they were nearby. She had been walking right next to Jason, but the fog had rolled in so fast—all it had taken was a few steps in the wrong direction and they had become separated.

  Now she was all alone.

  Lyssa waved her flashlight around, trying to see where she was going. But the light showed only the cold, white mist.

  “Help us! Somebody, please save us!” she heard a voice cry out. She tried to turn toward the sound and almost lost her balance on the sharp, uneven rocks. She didn’t recognize the voice, and she couldn’t tell where it had come from.

  “Jason, is that you? Where are you? I can’t see you!” Lyssa called.

  No answer. She stared into the darkness. There was a light! It appeared to be floating on the water. Is it a ship?

  Lyssa began to go forward again. She walked slowly, trying hard not to slip on the shifting rocks beneath her feet. If she could just get down to the water, maybe she could find Jason and the others.

  “Aaaaaah!”

  Lyssa’s ankle turned on a large stone. With a sharp cry, she lost her balance and fell to her knees. The flashlight flew from her hand and went skittering away. Pain shot through her from slamming into the jagged edges of the rocks. She toppled over onto her side and lay still for a moment. She could feel the sharp edges of the rocks digging into her body.

  Her skinned arms and palms felt sticky—there was some bleeding from her scrapes. She pushed herself upright. Then she flexed her foot and stretched her arms in front of her. At least nothing felt broken.

  Careful not to lose her balance again, Lyssa got to her feet. Every part of her body felt battered and bruised. The mist surrounding her was really getting to her. Beyond the pain from the fall, Lyssa had to admit to herself that she was just plain scared.

  Lyssa swallowed hard to keep from crying. Where was the team?

  “Aiiieeeee!” A sudden scream cut through the night. Lyssa’s heart leapt into her throat.

  “Help! Somebody, please! Help! Help! HELP!” a voice cried out. It sounded like a little boy’s.

  Then the air around Lyssa seemed to explode with sound. There were voices everywhere in the fog, shouting and calling out words that Lyssa couldn’t understand. And the whole time, there was the sound of the waves, pounding furiously against the shore. Then a deep, weird groaning filled the air.

  Something’s being pushed to the breaking point, Lyssa thought.

  But what is it? What?

  Earlier that day…

  “Got something?” Grant asked.

  Lyssa paused in sorting through the TAPS mail.

  One of her jobs as the chief interviewer for TAPS (The Atlantic Paranormal Society) was opening the mail. Lyssa actually liked that part of her job a lot. It meant she was the first person to see anything new and interesting. Today, one particular envelope caught her eye. The name and address were written by hand.

  That looks like a kid’s handwriting, Lyssa thought. It was big but not sloppy.

  “I’m not sure yet,” Lyssa answered. She took her letter opener and slit the top of the envelope. Inside were several sheets of binder paper with more of the same handwriting on it. Lyssa pushed the rest of the mail aside and spread the letter out on top of her desk.

  The TAPS office was in an old house in Rhode Island. What used to be the living room was now the main work area. Jason Hawes and Grant Wilson had desks along one wall. They faced each other on either side of a brick fireplace. Sitting face-to-face made it easy for the two TAPS founders to talk over cases.

  Lyssa’s desk was next to technical manager Jen Shorewood’s. The final two members of the TAPS team, identical twins Mike and Mark Hammond, shared
a big worktable along the back wall. Mike was the team’s evidence examiner. Mark was the researcher. Both were tall and serious-looking, with straight brown hair and dark brown eyes. It was really hard to tell them apart.

  Grant got up from his desk and leaned over Lyssa’s shoulder so they could read the letter together.

  Dear TAPS, the letter began.

  I hope it’s okay for me to write. I don’t know what else to do. (I want to ask for your help.) Not for me. Well, not just for me. It’s mostly for my grandpa.

  “Interesting start,” Lyssa said.

  “Yeah, it is,” Grant confirmed. He pulled up a chair and sat down beside her. “Let’s keep going.”

  Grandpa George lives in Maine. Sort of out in the middle of nowhere, right by the ocean. I go to see him every summer. It’s just the two of us for most of August. That’s the way we like it.

  But there’s one thing we don’t like. It started when I turned nine. I’m eleven now. You probably want to know that, huh? Also my name, which is Tom Kelly.

  Anyhow, I’m writing because of the voices and the lights, out on the water. We only hear and see them one night a year.

  “Okay, now it’s really interesting,” Grant said.

  Lyssa nodded, her eyes still on the page.

  It happens the fifteenth of August. Screams. People yelling for help. There are crazy lights, and sometimes Grandpa George and I think we hear a bell. There are lots of other sounds, too, but we’ve never been able to figure out what they are.

  The first year, Grandpa George and I tried to help. But we couldn’t, because of the fog. It was so thick we couldn’t see the water. It’s hard to get to the ocean from Grandpa George’s house. There are lots of big sharp rocks going down to the water. It’s dangerous to climb on them, even in the daytime.

  We even called the Coast Guard. They couldn’t do anything, either. Not that night. That’s how thick the fog was.

  The Coast Guard came the next morning. They didn’t find anything at all. They didn’t really believe me. I think they thought I was making the whole thing up. They didn’t even believe my grandpa! He told them he heard the sounds, too. I guess they thought he was just covering up for me because I’m his grandson and all that.

  But Grandpa George did hear the sounds. He saw the lights. I didn’t make it up. Not any of it.

  Anyhow. That was the first time.

  “The first time,” Grant murmured.

  Lyssa turned over the first page. The letter went on.

  So then a year went by. Grandpa George and I thought maybe that was it. Just some weird and freaky thing, you know? But it happened the next August 15, too, just like before. And now the date is coming up again. I wasn’t sure what to do, but then my best friend, Tony, told me about TAPS. As soon as he did, I knew I wanted to write you.

  Please come to Grandpa George’s house. Please help us figure out what’s going on. Grandpa George won’t admit it, but I think he’s upset. He doesn’t like to hear the people screaming and knowing there’s nothing he can do to help them.

  But maybe you can help. I think maybe you’re the only ones. Because you want to know the truth. Those people on the water? I’m pretty sure they died. I think they died a long, long time ago. Can the ocean be haunted?

  Please come as soon as you get this letter.

  Sincerely,

  Your new friend (I hope)

  Tom Kelly

  P.S. Here’s Grandpa George’s address. I drew you a map on the back of this page. I’ll wait outside for you after dinner on the fifteenth, just in case you come.

  Lyssa sat back. “Wow.”

  “Let’s take a look at the map,” Grant said.

  She turned over the second page of Tom Kelly’s letter. On the back was a well-drawn map. It showed a hill and the ocean. At the foot of the hill were lots of big rocks. At the top, there was a house with a road snaking up toward it. The address was written in big block letters. There was a mark at the bottom of the hill where Tom Kelly would be waiting.

  “Check that out,” Lyssa said. “X really does mark the spot.”

  “What’s the date today?” Grant asked.

  Lyssa checked the bottom of her computer screen.

  “Oh my gosh, today’s the fifteenth!” she said. “That doesn’t give us much time.”

  Grant stood up. “Hey, Hammond,” he called out.

  On the far side of the room, both Hammond twins turned around. “Yeah?” they said in unison.

  “Mike,” Grant said, his voice brisk. “Please get me driving directions to this address.” He read it out loud. Mike grabbed a piece of paper and jotted it down. “We need the travel time. Mark, I’d like you to look on a map and get me the name of the closest town. Find out whether or not there’s a historical society. A lot of small New England towns have one.”

  “On it,” the twins said, once again in unison. They swiveled back to their respective laptops at precisely the same time.

  “How do they do that?” Lyssa asked.

  “I’m pretty sure they practice at home,” Jen said. “I keep meaning to set up a camera and catch them in the act.”

  “What’s up?” Jason asked. He walked over from his desk to stand beside Grant. “You’re giving a lot of orders all of a sudden—you think you’re the boss or something?” he teased.

  “You know it,” Grant answered with a grin. “But I did say please.” He picked up Tom Kelly’s letter and held it out to Jason. “Read this. We can talk on the road.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain.” Jason saluted.

  “You came,” Tom Kelly said. “I wasn’t sure you would. I mean, I hoped—I mean—wow!”

  Tom Kelly looks like everybody’s best friend, Lyssa thought. He had bright red hair, freckles across his nose, and bright green eyes. He was wearing a pair of well-worn jeans and a plain white T-shirt.

  “Of course we came,” Jason said. He stepped forward to shake Tom’s hand. “I’m Jason, and this is Grant.”

  “I know who you guys are,” Tom said. “I looked it up on the Internet. You started TAPS.”

  “That’s right,” Grant said. “We did. And this is the TAPS team.” Quickly, Grant introduced the rest of the group, ending with Lyssa. “Lyssa is the one who spotted your letter.”

  “Cool,” Tom said. “Thanks.”

  “So,” Lyssa said, “how does your grandfather feel about us coming?”

  Tom made a face.

  Busted! Lyssa thought.

  “I haven’t told him yet. Grandpa George is used to being on his own. He’s used to fixing things himself. He doesn’t like to ask for help.”

  “So you did it for him,” Jason suggested.

  “Yeah,” Tom said. “And for me, too. I mean—it’s kind of hard to describe. It just feels wrong to sit up in the house and not do anything. I want to figure out what’s going on.”

  “We do, too,” Grant said. He looked up, to where a small house with weather-beaten shingles stood on top of the hill. “But first I think we’d better go meet your grandfather.”

  “I appreciate your visit,” Grandpa George said when they went up to the house to meet him. “But we’re fine on our own. Tom shouldn’t have asked you to come.”

  He shot his grandson a look that was stern but also full of love. George Kelly reminded Lyssa of a piece of old leather, thin but still strong. And I guess we know where Tom got his red hair, she thought. Grandpa George’s hair wasn’t as bright as Tom’s, but it was still pretty red.

  “Since we’re already here, Mr. Kelly,” Jason said, “we would really like the chance to experience whatever happens tonight. We understand that it all happens down by the water. So we won’t need to bother you.”

  “Well, you did come a long way,” Grandpa George said slowly. “And I’ve got to admit I am concerned about tonight. A person doesn’t like to hear others in distress and have no way to help them. It’s just not right… So I guess my grandson here did what was best. Maybe we could use your help.”


  “Thank you,” Grant said.

  “You’d better take a look at the shore while it’s still light out,” Grandpa George said. “Otherwise, you’ll have trouble for sure after it gets dark.”

  Sometime later, the group was at the water to check it out. “Okay, you guys,” Grant said as he and Jason stood side by side facing the team with their backs to the ocean. “No two ways about it, this investigation is going to be a challenge. And challenge number one is getting down to the water.”

  Between the TAPS team and the ocean was a big field of jagged rocks. They weren’t quite big enough to be called boulders. But they were big enough that walking across them was going to be tough. The light was already fading fast.

  That meant the TAPS team was going to have to cross the rock field in the dark.

  “According to Grandpa George, it stays rocky all the way down to the water. But right at the shoreline, the rocks are smoother and smaller—sort of a pebble beach. That will be easier to walk on. But it’s still slippery, so even there we have to watch our step.”

  “What about equipment?” Mark asked.

  “Audio only,” Jason said. “Handheld. Or actually…” He lifted up an audio recorder that was hanging on a strap around his neck. “There isn’t time to get down to the water and set up equipment. And it’s probably too wet anyhow.”

  “Document and tag everything you can for the voice recorders,” Grant continued. “Remember, the sound of the ocean will always be in the background.”

  “Got it.” Lyssa nodded.

  “We’ll work in pairs,” Jason went on. “Lyssa, you’re with me. Mark is with Grant. Jen with Mike. Stay together as much as possible. If the fog rolls in, things could get pretty tough out there, guys.”