Hell View Manor

Chapter 1

Itani

I screamed when I got the email. Jumping around my attic room, I screamed like a banshee. I’d been waiting my entire life for this kind of experience.

Eight months ago, I received an email through one of the paranormal newsletters I subscribe to introducing Hell View Manor. Someone claims that they’ve taken a haunted assisted living facility in New Castle, Pennsylvania, and turned it into a window to hell. It boasts more than fifty rooms where you can look in on tortured souls.

I’m not going to lie. I was skeptical. I mean, that’s not a real thing – the ability to look into a place that no one has actual physical proof of whether or not it exists. Hell, as much as I question everything in life, even I wasn’t sure whether or not I believed in Hell.

But was I going to let that stop me from this opportunity? Fuck no! I filled out the form immediately with as much psychotic enthusiasm as I possessed. There was just no other way.

That was months ago. I’d checked my email obsessively for two months and found nothing. I’d stopped doing so as religiously as I had, but since I subscribed to tons of newsletters to feed my fascinated obsession with the paranormal, it was still a regular occurrence.

I’d almost forgotten about the application until the response was sitting there this morning. The sender was Hell View Manor and the subject: Invitation to attend Tour. My hand was shaking so bad that I hit the wrong email first. And in my haste to get back, I accidentally swiped and sent the correct email to archives.

After undoing that mistake, I paused and took a deep breath. Okay. Calm the fuck down, Itani. It’s not like I’d missed a deadline or anything. It had only arrived at 7:03 this morning.

Once I’d gotten my shakes under control, I opened the email.

Dear Ms. Itani Honoko,

I am pleased to have this opportunity to invite you to our next tour of Hell View Manor for the dates of September 17-24. The tour will be seven full days and feature more than fifty windows into Hell. During this time, you’re welcome to tour the entire building and are encouraged to bring whatever paranormal recording devices you wish. You will be assigned a room, provided meals, and have access to a communal restroom.

The goal of Hell View Manor is to educate the public of their vices. To illustrate that the world is not at all what it appears to be. There are consequences to their actions. How better to do this than to give a chosen few that ability to have a peek into Hell to witness eternal punishments for various sins?

For your safety, each room is viewable by a five-foot single-pane window that has replaced the door. There will be no accidental deaths while within our facility. Viewing Hell will be secure and, hopefully, be a successful warning to humans all over the world.

If you would like to accept this invitation, please fill out the form via this link by Monday, August 1st. Your instructions will follow.

I look forward to meeting you, Ms. Honoko.

Best Regards,

Cole Mastema

CEO and President

Hell View Manor

I read the email a dozen times before I started jumping around my room screaming. Once I assured my aunt that I wasn’t having a heart attack, I filled out the form. The instant reply was that my acceptance of the invitation was noted, and my spot was secured. There were further details, such as where to fly into if I was located out of state. Where to park if I was driving. That there would be seven others on this week-long tour.

There was a list of suggested equipment that I might want to secure to make my ghost hunting and Hell viewing memorable. There was also a questionnaire as to whether I had any health problems or food allergies. And then the basic warning of the building being old, so there might be asbestos in the walls and other unsafe conditions that I needed to take into account.

I had a month and a half to pack. To get all the gear I needed. I already had a bunch since I often toured local haunted locations. I’d had one experience that still chilled me. I captured a foggy face within the screen of my camera and a disembodied voice at the same time stamp.

But this was different. It would be looking into Hell within the backdrop of a haunted building. Fucking glorious.

I had an EMF reader, an EVP recorder, a laser grid pen, a device to detect unseen movement, a flashlight that had white light, UV light, and red light, and an air temperature thermometer. Plus, my digital recorder. I really wanted an oculus. It was this cool device that picked up shapes like stick figures of entities in the area. I say shapes because I’ve seen some really freaky ones. Like a quadruped with a head. Fucking freaky. But they were expensive. I’d just have to stick with my regular camera.

With my gear, my clothes, and laptop in hand, I was ready to go when the day finally arrived. I was sure, as I climbed onto the train with my old aunt waving to me from the platform, that something significant was going to happen at Hell View Manor. Something big. Something that would change my life.

It had occurred to me that if these windows showed the sinful being tortured, that meant they’d show those who were doing the torturing. Demons. There were so many aspects to this trip that could lead to life altering events.

I passed the time on the train reading the history of the building that was once called the Lawrence County Home for the Aged. Because it also housed the mentally ill, severely destitute, and elderly residents that didn’t have any known family, it was often referred to as the poor house or poor farm.

Lawrence County Home for the Aged opened on October 19, 1926, with Perry and Mary Snyder as the first elected directors. With their two daughters, a dozen staff members and twenty inmates, the new elderly home opened its doors. Among the twenty inmates was a child, though the home didn’t accept children.

The home continued to operate through the latter half of the 1960s, when it was remodeled and remade into a skilled nursing facility. However, only a decade later, the home was facing severe overcrowding. The North Wing was built on as well as some remodeling of existing floors. A new three-story addition, including a basement was added and when the home reopened in 1977, it was renamed Hill View Manor.

Then, due to financial constraints, Hill View Manor closed in 2004 and was put up for sale along with its twenty-two acres, which include a bunker and a resident cemetery - it’s estimated that somewhere between 8,000 and 12,000 deaths occurred in the building.

In recent years, it was purchased by Cole Mastema and though the building wasn’t remodeled, it has been repurposed as a portal to Hell. By invitation only, one can view what happens to the damned. And thus, Mastema renamed the building one last time to Hell View Manor.

I was nearly bouncing in my seat by the time the train pulled up to the station. I gathered my suitcase and backpack, and slowly made my way off. I’d have probably run if there weren’t other passengers blocking my path. Of course, when I was so excited I was ready to jump out of my skin, I’d get stuck behind slow elderly people. 

But finally, I made it into the Pittsburgh station. There would be one of those luxury minibusses waiting outside if I ever made it through the crowds. Only because the universe knew I was excited was the world around me so dense with bodies.

Stepping outside, I could finally breathe a sigh of relief. Not only did the masses thin out and the air become less stuffy, I spotted the bus right away. Black with the words ‘Hell View Manor’ across the side.

Trying to contain my grin so I wasn’t the freak who was all giddy for this trip, I hurried across the parking lot. The gentleman waiting at the door was as nondescript and unmemorable as they came. Average height and weight with brown hair and eyes. Clean shaven with dark sunglasses. His name tag was even unremarkable. James Smith.

“Ms. Honoko,” he greeted me as I handed him my confirmation email. He’d known my name before looking at it, though. Probably due to the time I’d registered for transportation. 

“Please, make yourself comfortable. There’s another guest arriving on the 11:00 train that we’ll wait for. Then we’ll pick up the five remaining guests from the airport before we head on up to New Castle.”

I nodded as James Smith took my bag and stowed it under the bus with one other. I climbed on to find one other person. A man, probably late twenties, with hair on the longer side, slicked back with curls. His dark brows were pronounced but his brown eyes were very distinctive. His skin was slightly olive in color that made me think Latino. His accent confirmed it when he spoke.

His smile was small as his lids lowered. “I’ve been alone on this bus for like two hours. Seriously thought it was just going to be me.”

I smiled and sat in the double seat diagonally in front of him. “I can imagine that could be obnoxious,” I agreed.

He sighed. “I’m Laz.”

“Itani,” I returned. “So I can save myself the embarrassment later, fair warning that I’m totally going to geek out when we drive up.”

He chuckled. He had a nice smile as he watched me with a steady glance. “I forgot about this, I signed up so long ago.”

I groaned. “Tell me about it. Then I screamed like a banshee when I got the email. Almost gave my aunt a heart attack.”

“It’s going to be a blast. Even if these windows turn out to be fake, the place is almost 100 years old and supposed to be one of the most haunted places in the US. That’s draw enough.”

I was glad someone was going to bring up the possibility that the windows were fake. I crossed my arms over the back of my seat as I looked behind me at Laz. “Okay, since you mentioned it. What’s your take on the windows?”

“I’m a strong believer in Heaven and Hell. However, I’ve never believed that the living were able to see either while alive,” Laz said, shrugging. “And this place has been open for four months. I’ve yet to see a single image or video anywhere, despite the fact that the email says we’re allowed to take pictures.”

I nodded. I’d found the same thing. Especially after the first month that Hell View Manor had been open. How could someone not want to take a picture and share it to the world – proof that Hell is real? I mean, the original invitation email states that the sole goal of the project is so the world can see that it’s real. That there are repercussions to your sins.

Finally, the last person we’d been waiting on at the train station climbed on. A beautiful Asian woman with soft brown hair and dark sparkling eyes, a sweet smile, and wearing a little sundress. She looked like a doll, though she was tall and lean. She gave Laz and I a smile as she sat directly in front of Laz, introducing herself as Alyvia.

James Smith announced that we were heading to the airport and would arrive there in about twenty minutes. The last flight was scheduled to land about ten minutes ago so the rest of our party should already be outside the terminals waiting for us.

“What about you?” Laz asked Alyvia. “You think these windows are real?”

Alyvia shrugged. “My mother signed me up for this. Apparently, I’m too rebellious and needed a reminder that if I look at a man before marriage, I will be skinned alive for my sins.” She gave Laz a raised brow, pressing her lips together.

Laz laughed, leaning back in his seat. “Then you had better make that look well worth it.”

“Indeed,” Alyvia agreed. She turned forward with a sigh. “A haunted building is not how I wanted to spend the week. School just started three weeks ago. I shouldn’t be missing an entire week for this.”

Laz and I exchanged a look and a smile as the ride to the airport came to an end.

I could already tell which group was waiting for us. There were four more guys and a girl. I sat forward as the bus pulled to a stop. James Smith got out to load their bags under the bus and I watched them pile in.

The only other female aboard had long hair, a bright, enchanting shade of green. Her roots and the last three or four inches were dark. She had long lashes and dark eye makeup, the kind that left the insides of her eyes bare, but the outsides colored and smokey. Her eyes themselves were large and dark. Her lips were a dark stained red with a ring in her bottom lip on the left side. She was wearing a plain black tank that showed off her ink. The entire right arm was sleeved in pictures, covering the back of her hands and fingers. Her left arm only had a feather on her upper arm just under her shoulder.

And then the men piled on. Two of them appeared to be friends already.

One of them looked younger than the other by a handful of years. His hair was light and cropped short on the sides with longer, curling strands on top. His eyes were brown, and he carried himself as someone with a whole lot of confidence, though I didn’t find him all that attractive at first glance. 

His friend had darker hair, lighter eyes, and a jawline full of sexy scruff. He was pretty. I’d enjoy looking at him.

The man that followed them was older still, maybe mid to late thirties. He looked like an older, more sophisticated version of the man who walked on before him. But they didn’t appear to know each other.

And then, as if someone needed to make sure we were well and diverse, we had our person of color. He had a wide grin, and came across as loud and boisterous without speaking as he climbed on the bus. He was one of those men that just had a presence around him. His hair was in short braids on top of his head, the sides shaved clean. He wore dark glasses and a huge smile.

Once we were all loaded and introduced (in order of climbing on the bus was Markeet, Zion, Seth, Tazh, and Rihno), James took a seat behind the wheel. He adjusted his mirror so that we all had a look at his sunglasses and the hint of a smile his profile offered.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen. In approximately one hour, we will be arriving at Hell View Manor. Are you ready to take a peek into the pits of Hell?”