Hey Readers! If you haven’t already, be sure to check out other posts here to read previous chapters of The House On Astor Street. Enjoy!
Chapter Eighteen
The rest of the weekend was a blur of restaurants, museums, Navy Pier, walks along the lake front, a show at the Oriental Theater, a trip to the top of the Sears Tower, and nights out on the balcony, laughing and reminiscing. Jason had bought the group tickets for the Chicago Architecture Boat Tour for that Monday, mostly because he had heard that it was a tourist must-do, not to mention one of the million items on the groups list of things to do, but also because, selfishly, he had never done it himself.
That morning, as his friends were packing up their bags and loading them into Jason’s car, his phone rang. It was Shane. “Good Morning Shane, how are you?”
“Jason, where are you?”
“Er, I’m at home… I’m on PTO today…”
“How many days of PTO did you take?” Shane sounded aggravated, “Actually, whatever, it isn’t important. I have a few files I need you to go through and, ideally, get back to me before my presentation to the regional team on Monday.”
Jason sighed and artificially sweetened his tone, “Sure, I will make them priority this week when I’m back tomorrow.”
“Great! And I do apologize, but they are pretty lengthy. I guess you could finish them this weekend if need be since you’re out today.” Jason could hear someone walking into Shane’s office through the phone. Shane said something unintelligible. “Alright, I got to run.” The line went dead.
Jason pulled the phone away from his ear and staring at the blank screen mumbled to himself, “that’s not really the way PTO works…”
It was a warm day and there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky. On the drive down to the dock located in the near South Side area, Jason asked the others how the enjoyed Chicago. The three were pretty much unanimous in voicing their newfound love for the city, with Tracy chiming in that she would love to visit in winter because she’s always dreamed of getting to wear “a beautiful coat, warm designer boots, and stylish ear muffs.” Her tune changed a little when Becca reminded her that winter in Chicago consisted of below zero temperatures and blizzards. “Only sometimes!” Jason said playfully.
The group filed onto the crowded boat and took a seat in the center-back to get a good view while still being able to hear the tour guide. The girls fished their cameras out of their respective purses as the guide began his introductions.
“Good morning ladies and gentleman! My name is Danny and I will be your guide this morning here on the beautiful Chicago River.” A mechanical groan sounded from the back of the boat and a soft vibration rattled their bench slightly as the boat pushed forward away from the dock. “I want to welcome you all aboard the River Princess, and thank you for choosing to sail with Star Architecture Tours today. I’ve got a couple of ground rules to cover, so please listen carefully.” His annunciation reminded Jason of a campy game show host, and he found it hard to concentrate on his overly rehearsed script. “On our journey today, we will be going back in time to the days of Lincoln up through today and beyond.”
The boat chugged along the river, under bridges and through the shadows of the massive steel, stone, and glass structures. Pedestrians and tourists waved from the River Walk and bridges to the people on the boat, many of whom returned the gesture. Cameras all over the ship’s deck were clicking away at the towered landscape, while kids exclaimed “whoaaaa!” as they craned their necks upwards at the huge skyscrapers. Zach, like the kids on the boat, had his mouth hanging open and was making a sound somewhere between “oh” and “wow”. Tracy was putting her camera to work as well, easily getting five to ten photos of each building, while Becca was intently listening to the guide and taking a periodic picture when she felt it was warranted.
The boat eventually got to its eastern most point, parallel to Navy Pier. As the boat began to make its impossibly tight turn, Jason felt a faint flutter in his chest, followed by a growing heat in his lower back. Assuming it was nothing more than the sun beating down on him for over thirty minutes now, he took a sip of water and slumped forward, listening to Danny the tour guide, “…and this is it, ladies and gentlemen. Get your cameras ready because when this boat turns, you will have a perfect view of the city.” The rhythmic click of camera shutters and the sound of artificial snaps rang out.
The heat spread to Jason’s neck and around his front to his chest, then down his arms to his hands while The River Princess made its way back into the city along the river. They went under the first bridge and Danny started pointing out landmarks and buildings along the opposite side of the bank, commenting that this new vantage point offered better views of various towers. Jason gulped down more water, fighting the spreading heat, which was now making him lightheaded.
“Up ahead on the left is the world’s highest church. The United Methodist Church occupies both the first floor on the tower as well as a sanctuary sitting on the twenty-third floor…”
Jason chugged the rest of his water bottle and looked up, taking a deep breath. The boat was nearing another bridge when Jason spotted a man dressed in all black, hands on the rails, staring directly down at him. Jason froze, eyes wide, shallow, quick breaths.
“As we approach Wolf Point on your right, turn your heads to the left. There you will see 191 N Wacker tower, but back in 1860, it was the site of the Republican National Convention that nominated the United States’ sixteenth president, Abraham Lincoln…”
Another one. Jason blinked, his stomach lurched. There was another man, dressed in all black staring down at him from the Wells Street bridge. He felt nauseous as the heat began to radiate from him. He turned his gaze down, rubbing his eyes, coughing from his irregular breathing.
“As we head back down south along the west side of Chicago’s Loop neighborhood, I want to let you all in on a local legend. Up ahead on the left is Chicago’s Civic Opera building. It gained fame upon its completion in 1929 for its beautiful art deco interior and for being the second largest opera auditorium in the US. But it was in 1987 where our legend was born.” Danny broke into a Dracula-inspired laugh to add to the suspense. “In December 1987, celebutant and wealthy philanthropist, Margot Crawford, held her annual winter gala here on this site. They say that, after only an hour of the event starting, reports came in of a woman on the roof of the southern tower, just there…” Danny pointed to the tower for reference. Despite his state, Jason felt compelled to look up.
Danny’s words invaded Jason’s head and burrowed themselves into his mind… what was that?
“Soon, camera crews, police, and passersby were lined up all along the river to get a glimpse.” Danny swung his arm around towards the western bank of the river, across from the opera building.
Jason squinted towards the roof. He saw a flash of red.
“The figure on the roof was quickly identified as Margot Crawford herself. She stood at the edge of the roof for, what some witnesses said, was over ten minutes. Footage shows that she just stared straight ahead, like she was under some sort of spell…”
A woman emerged into plain view. She was wearing a long flowing red gown. Jason looked at his friends, his eyes wide and words escaping him. The three of them were looking up at the tower, taking photos and joking about how it would cost “at least a million dollars” before one of them would take the dare to jump off.
“Eventually, in front of all the cameras, she jumped.” At this point, the boat was directly next to the Civic Opera building, and Danny point to the water next to the boat, “She landed right about here, next to where we are passing now.” Shutters and electronic exposure sounds went off. For dramatic effect, Danny looked back at the crowd in front of him and ended his tale. “To this day, they have never recovered a body. Some say she still haunts the Civic Opera building… but that’s a different tour you all can take.” Comedic relief, it always got a few sympathy chuckles from the crowd.
It was then that the red figure Jason saw climbed to the edge of the tower. Heat poured out of him. The figure looked down at the water, spread its arms and, “NO!” Jason stood and screamed. Everyone on the boat looked at him and followed his gaze to the roof, then back at him. Jason looked back down at the peering eyes, then at his friends, his eyes wide and full of terror. Zach sat staring at Jason with a shocked and intimidated look while Tracy and Becca stood up to help calm him down.
“Is everything ok back there?” Danny asked over the microphone. Becca gave Danny a thumbs up. “Looks like someone liked the Legend of the Lady in Red back there.” He laughed in a further effort to diffuse the uncomfortable tension on the deck of the boat.
Sitting again, Zach, Tracy and Becca huddled close to Jason.
Tracy, with a concerned look said, “Jason, you’re burning. Here, have my water.” She handed him her water bottle.
Becca asked, “Are you ok? What happened?”
Jason just stared at the chair in front of him, “I know it sounds crazy, but I saw the Lady in Red jump off the roof.” He looked up at his friends, shaking his head in a show that he barely believed his own words more than they did, “And I saw those guys in all black… several of them… on the bridges.”
Chapter Nineteen
It was hard for Jason to focus at work. Aside from the inevitable loneliness that settles in any time he has to say bye to someone meaningful, and the fact that Shane’s project turned out to be a behemoth of an assignment, Jason was completely consumed by the events on the boat tour the day before. On his way in to work that morning, he moved like a zombie, lost in thought, and oblivious to the whirl of commuters around him. When he had passed by the homeless lady sitting against the wall of the Opera building, she waved and, mechanically, void of emotion, Jason raised his hand to her in response, but his eyes drifted up the concrete tower to where he had seen the lady in red the day before. Feeling a warmth rush over him the closer his eyes got to the roof, he diverted his gaze and hurried across the bridge to his office.
His morning drifted into lunch, which he ate at his desk, half dazed, half working on Shane’s project. The afternoon passed at varying speeds while Jason worked through a fog he couldn’t seem to escape. At five, Kayla walked up to his desk, her bag and purse in hand, “You doing ok there, buddy?” She was smiling, but couldn’t completely hide the look of concern on her face. “We didn’t see you at lunch today…”
“Hey, yeah…” Jason interrupted. “Just buried in this project for Shane and exhausted from this weekend with my friends visiting and whatnot.” Jason produced a weak smile, then hung his head back while he let out a big yawn.
Jason finally got out of the office just shy of 9:00pm, easily the last person to stick around by more than an hour and a half. His feet dragged across the bridge, no homeless lady in sight. He figured that she must leave her post before it gets dark. He slumped into a seat on the train, mentally exhausted from work and from the strange events taking over his life, and physically exhausted from his long weekend and the unforgiving humidity brought on by a heat wave. When he got home, he kicked off his shoes, threw his bag on the couch and went straight to his balcony and sunk into a chair where he leaned his head back and shut his eyes.
Over the next several days, Jason’s schedule remained virtually unchanged. Long days in the office, late trips home, dinner if he had the energy for it, and the periodic questions from Shane about the status of the project. Despite his exhaustion, Jason was thankful that his recent routine didn’t allow for all the strange events to play out in his mind often or, when he did have time to think back about what he experienced, he was interrupted by a co-worker or by sleep.
Friday afternoon rolled around and, although he hadn’t put the finishing touches on the project just yet, Jason reminded himself that Shane didn’t need to review everything until Sunday, so he resolved to come in Saturday night to finish it up. He texted Brandon and Harrison, telling them he couldn’t make it to happy hour, but that he’d see them at the park for basketball the next morning. Despite freeing up his Friday night, Jason wanted nothing more than to go home and lounge on the back balcony. The humidity had dissipated over the last day or so and there was a light breeze that produced his favorite summer weather. On his train ride home, for the first time in a week, Jason felt the stress in his life lifting.
After a while, Ryan joined Jason on the back balcony. Jason was snacking on some chips, while Ryan sat stabbing at his pint of ice cream. Jason listened as Ryan went on about some new shows he wanted to see, new exhibits he wanted to visit, and new restaurants he wanted to try. Occasionally, Ryan would end his various reviews by demanding Jason go with them, to which Jason would simply smile and say “yeah, that sounds good.” At one point, Ryan commented that Jason looked exhausted, making Jason laugh as he recalled how offended Ryan got when people said that to him.
“Honestly, it’s just been a really long week.” He stretched in his chair and threw his legs up on the balcony railing. “After basically walking the whole city last week with my friends in town and… man, work has just been brutal this week…” Jason stared up at the sky, the light warm breeze stirring around him.
“Ugh, tell me about it. I don’t know what it is about this week!” Ryan sat back in his chair and mimicked Jason, staring up at the sky, continuing to devour his ice cream.
A minute passed in which they sat there in complete silence. The sounds of cars and people talking folded into the sound of the wind rustling the leaves in the nearby trees. “Hey Ryan…” Jason shifted in his seat uncomfortably, but kept his head facing up. “I gotta tell you something. And I know it’s going to sound insane… like, literally insane… but it’s sort of consuming me.”
Ryan looked over at Jason, who still hadn’t repositioned his head and gave him an awkward look, “ok…” He took another bite of his ice cream. “What’s going on?”
Over the next hour, Jason recounted all the strange things that have been going on over the past couple weeks: the coffee incident at work, the homeless lady near the Opera building, the different people in all black, staring at him, the lady in red, all of it. He tried explaining in detail how he would get unspeakably hot right before something strange would happen. He mentioned how his friends even saw the guy in the picture staring at him. Ryan didn’t speak the entire time, except to excuse himself to get more ice cream at one point, and the customary “uh huh” and “ok” responses from time to time. Otherwise, he sat there, visibly trying to keep a calm and understanding look upon his face, listening intently and without judgement.
When he finished, Jason looked at Ryan and asked with a smirk, “So, how crazy do I sound?”
Ryan put his second pint of ice cream down and readjusted himself to face Jason, “First of all, I don’t think you’re crazy…” He offered a small courtesy chuckle. “I don’t know how to explain the things you’ve been seeing and experiencing, but who am I to say they aren’t real in some way?”
Jason just laughed, still considering whether or not he regretted telling Ryan anything at all.
“You know what I say? You’ve been exhausted… and stressed. I shouldn’t have gotten involved with the whole inviting your dad to your birthday thing…” Jason shook his head and put his hands up in a dismissive nature, “… but seriously, get some rest, let’s go grab some drinks tomorrow night, and everything will go back to normal.”
“Yeah, about that, I need to go to the office tomorrow night.” Jason saw Ryan react with a silent vomiting gesture. “I’ll text you when I’m leaving and maybe I can meet you wherever you’re at?” Jason stood up and made his way to his back door.
“Well, no wonder why you’re going crazy… you are working on a weekend!” Ryan joked.
Jason turned around and laughed lazily, “I’ll text you tomorrow night.”
He went inside and got ready for bed. Laying in bed, sleep quickly enveloping him, Jason heard a meow from his closet. “You’ve got to be kidding me…” He flipped on the light, walked over and opened the door. Curled on the floor was the blob known as Patriot. Jason picked up his phone and texted Ryan, “Your cat snuck in again. He’s sleeping on my closet floor.”
“It’s late – he’s all yours tonight.”
Jason rolled his eyes and turned off the lights.
Chapter Twenty
Jason woke up feeling refreshed. A combination of finally getting the long overdue sleep he so desperately needed, and talking to Ryan about everything going on, whether he believed him or not, helped give him peace of mind. When he went into his closet to grab his gym clothes for his weekly basketball game with Harrison and Brandon, he noticed Patriot was no longer in his closet and figured he must have snuck back into Ryan and Mike’s place the same way he snuck into his.
It was a beautiful day. The was sun out, not a cloud in the sky, but it wasn’t outrageously hot. Everything was bright and saturated, the grass a brilliant green, the sky and water deep hues of blue, and the skyline various shades of brown, grey, white, and other soft colors. Jason loved the way the sun glittered off the windows of the surrounding skyscrapers, like the buildings themselves were dancing in the light. The park was crowded with tourists flowing in and out of the zoo, boats sailing around the harbor, and groups of people picnicking all over the grassy fields and under the trees.
Jason decided to take advantage of the good weather after his basketball game and hung around the park for a couple hours. Harrison and Brandon both had other plans but, never one to grumble about some alone time, Jason grabbed a sandwich from a nearby vendor, then found a spot under a tree and just sat alone for a little while, falling in love with Chicago all over again.
Later that afternoon, as he was packing up his work bag, Jason muttered a variety of insults to himself about having to spend his night at the office. He was glad, however, that he elected to enjoy the park earlier in the day, thinking to himself that at least Saturday wasn’t a complete waste. He packed himself a premade frozen dinner and a coffee to go, then begrudgingly set off for the nearly empty train.
There was always something sort of thrilling, albeit, creepy, about going into the office at night, not to mention on a weekend, when it was practically guaranteed that you’ll be there alone. Jason didn’t really mind it, after all, less people means less potential interruptions. Plus, he could play his music as loud as he wanted, and maybe even sing a little, with no repercussions or embarrassment. Prepared with his now heated beef stroganoff and coffee combination, Jason knew he’d be out of there within three hours, tops.
At around 8pm, Jason’s phone lit up with a text from Ryan. They exchanged a few messages that culminated in an arrangement in which Jason would let Ryan know when he was about to leave, which, by his estimate, would be no later than 9:30.
By 9pm, Jason was proofreading the documents and spreadsheets he had just finished. “Right on schedule” he thought to himself with a validating smile. Just then, the sound of a door closing rang out from around the corner. Jason froze, as his sensitivity to sound peaked immediately. Aside from the soft hum of computers around the office and the thunderous beating of his heart, the office was virtually silent. The next several seconds felt like an eternity. But still, just silence.
Eventually, Jason stood up cautiously to get a better look around the office. Satisfied that he was alone, he laughed away the dwindling adrenaline. He sat back down, and put his music back on, more softly this time, to appeal to his lingering paranoia. Jason emailed the reports to Shane and decided it would be smart to also print them out and leave them on his desk. Shane had an uncanny ability “lose” emails. He grabbed the documents, stuffed them into a folder, and put them on Shane’s desk.
As Jason was closing Shane’s office door, he heard the sound of shoes echoing on the tile floor in the lobby. Jason fought back against his body as he felt himself beginning to freeze again. His heart resumed its heavy beating as he walked softly and swiftly towards his desk. Deciding against playing detective, Jason quickly began to pack up his things as quietly as possible. His breathing became heavy and a heat began to form in the pit of his stomach. The heat began to spread rapidly to his back and around his shoulders, then down his arms. He knew from experience that whatever was happening to him wasn’t good.
He shoved the last few items into his bag and looked up, down the long hall that lead to the front lobby. The heat was creeping up his neck and down his legs, enveloping him completely. At the end of the hall, he saw one of them. One of the people dressed completely in black. The figure stood there, a faint silhouette, outlined by the lone after-hours light in the lobby. The figure didn’t move, but just stared at Jason. Knowing his access to the front door was blocked, Jason threw his bag over his shoulder and ran towards the emergency exit. Just as he reached the door, he turned to look over his shoulder and saw the figure moving towards him.
He threw the door open and stumbled into the hallway. He ran to the stairwell, figuring it a more reliable escape than the elevators, and began to descend. He was flying down the stairs, his feet moving at an incredibly fast pace, in line with the pounding of his heart. He jumped onto each landing, grabbing the railing, and using his momentum to swing unto the next set of stairs. When he reached the bottom, Jason threw himself into the door and emerged into the dimly lit building lobby. His eyes darted around the lobby until he spotted the security desk. He sprinted over to it where a small sign was perched up facing out towards the empty entrance: SECURITY ON ROUNDS – IN CASE OF EMERGENCY DIAL 911. In a panic, Jason fumbled for his phone in his pocket. Just as he pulled his phone out, the elevator dinged and the familiar sound of shoes on the tile floor echoed throughout the cavernous lobby. Jason bolted for the door.
Outside of the building, the streets were quiet and desolate. Jason decided to run towards The Loop, where he knew there would be more people. He sprinted across the bridge and under the lights of the Civic Opera building, illuminating the sidewalk in front of him. As he got to the intersection, he stopped to look for traffic and noticed a figure in black walking towards him on the right and one on the left. Jason’s heart jumped and heat began pouring throughout his body, like the first sip of a hot drink making its way down his throat, but it wasn’t just isolated to his throat, it was all over. Down his arms, his torso, his legs.
This part of the city was notoriously empty in the later part of the evenings, especially on the weekends, and tonight was no exception. He passed the next intersection and noticed more of the figures in black. They were closing in on him from all directions. He knew he would never reach the more crowded streets closer to the lake. In a fit of desperation, Jason screamed for help as he crossed another intersection where more figures in black were moving towards him. He was getting close to his daily commuting L stop and could hear the faint metal on metal clanging of the train approaching. He did a quick glance behind his shoulder and saw three or four figures in black moving towards him. He had to get away, so he turned the corner and ran towards the stairs for the train station.
His legs were screaming with fatigue as Jason climbed two stairs at a time. Knowing he didn’t have time to find his wallet in his bag, he jumped over the turnstile with an agility that surprised even himself. He approached the next set of stairs and could hear the deflating buzz of electricity of the train coming to a full stop. He could hear the doors sliding open as he again ascended the stairs two at a time. Just as the chimes sounded, Jason dove into the car and ran towards the back where he sat on the floor, out of view of the windows. The doors shut robotically, cutting off whoever or whatever was chasing him.
The train started to move smoothly and casually, a jarring contrast to the heightened emotions consuming Jason. He stayed on the floor, breathing hard, eyes down at his hands, which continued to burn furiously. His legs were also on fire, but his skin felt normal to the touch. As he contained his breath, his fear, his adrenaline, Jason took a quick glance around the train car. Alone. Wait… he wasn’t completely alone. At the far end of the car, he could make out the legs of someone sitting on a bench. They didn’t move and didn’t seem to react to Jason barging into the car just seconds ago. Figuring he was safe and now realizing someone else was on the train with him, Jason sat in a seat and pulled out his phone to a number of texts and missed calls from Ryan.
He began writing back, telling Ryan that he had to tell him about “the craziest stuff” that was happening to him. He ended the text with, “I should be there in about 20 minutes!” Just as Jason pressed send, he noticed the figure at the other end of the train begin to move. Jason looked up inconspicuously and saw the full figure of a man dressed completely in black, staring directly at him. Jason sat up straight in his seat, his breath quickening again and the familiar heat returning to his core. The man began to move towards Jason, who sprung up and hit the emergency button on the train.
They were still nowhere close to the next station, so Jason turned to the connecting door and began to open it. He looked over his shoulder and the man was about halfway down the length of the train car. He moved slowly, eyes never moving away from Jason. The clanking of the wheels on the track screamed into the car right before a force yanked the door out of his hand, slamming loudly and leaving Jason and the creature in insulated silence.
The voice of the conductor cut in through the emergency terminal speaker, “This is the conductor, is this an emergency?”
“Help! Help me!” Jason screamed. The heat pulsed through his extremities and grew in intensity. He sunk to the floor, his back to the connecting door, as he stared down the length of the train back at the man in black in terror. As the man got closer, Jason noticed that his face looked frozen, completely void of any emotion. Jason closed his eyes and threw his hands up in a protective gesture.
He heard a loud slam, followed by the sound of something being dragged along the ground. A feeling of emptiness overtook Jason as he opened his eyes slowly. He saw remnants of what looked like a long, thick line of colored dust float up and evaporate into the air. His eyes traced the evaporating line to the end, where he saw the man writhing on the floor, shrieking. He was on his back, but picking himself up slowly. The heat was building in Jason’s core again, like a rush of adrenaline jolting his system. He stood slowly, mouth and eyes wide. Jason could hear the sound of the conductor’s voice coming in over the emergency speaker again, but he couldn’t make it out clearly. “Help… please,” Jason called out weakly.
Out the window, Jason could see the next station coming into view, but as he reverted his eyes back to the man, he saw him getting up to his knees, then one foot, then the other. Jason shivered as he noticed the expression remained unchanged on the man’s face. The heat soared through Jason’s body again and he felt his energy and strength return almost immediately.
“Stop! Help! Someone!” He didn’t know who he was yelling to or what his cries for help might do. He looked at the man, who was moving towards him again. Jason extended his arms out in front of him as a shield. He felt like he was on fire. As the man inched closer, Jason screamed one last time “STOP!”
Just then, Jason felt the heat in his legs, in his head, and in his chest rush to his shoulders, down his upper arms, into his lower arms and into his hands. His breath stopped as he saw a brilliant green ribbon form in his palms and flash, as quickly as lightning, directly into the man’s chest, launching him backwards again, only this time, his head met the glass window, and the sharp sound of shattering pieces filled the train. Slowly, the line from Jason to the man again transformed into a colored dust and evaporated.
Jason stared down at his hands then back at the man lying motionless on the ground. He fell into one of the seats next to him as an intense emptiness and exhaustion washed over him. His vision began to blur just as the train was pulling into the station. He could hear sirens wailing, getting closer. He closed his eyes as the doors of the train car opened, complete shock taking hold of his mind and body. Seconds after he fainted, Police Commander Campbell ran onto the train, scooped Jason up, told the conductor to wait for the other officers, then took off down the stairs to his waiting patrol car.
