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Echoes of the Damned: My Nightmare at the Ohio State Reformatory
"Get Busy Living
Or get Busy Dying
That's goddamn Right!"
Morgan Freeman as Red in
TSR Stephen King 👑
🥼⛓️
A #WRITCO Horror Story
🚿 🩸
(Caution: Mildly Graphic)
🌈 📖
The Ohio State Reformatory, a bastion of cold, unyielding stone, stood tall and proud in the fading light of the evening. Its ivy-covered walls whispered of secrets long buried, secrets that had been the muse for countless tales of horror and despair. Yet, as I stepped through its gates, I couldn't help but feel a strange disconnect from the grim past that had earned it the reputation as one of the most haunted places in America. As a man of science and logic, I had always dismissed such stories as the desperate grasping of those seeking solace in the supernatural, a crutch for the weak-minded. But there was something in the air that night that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, a sense of anticipation that seemed to hum in every shadow.
My name is Damian, and I'm not one to be easily swayed by the whispers of the past. I've spent countless hours poring over the annals of history, seeking out the truth behind the legend of this infamous prison. I had signed up for the overnight ghost tour, a dare from my so-called friends who knew full well of my skepticism. But as I walked through the hallowed halls, surrounded by the echoes of long-forgotten screams and the clanging of distant cell doors, I couldn't shake the feeling that this place held more than just dusty relics and Hollywood glamour.
The Reformatory had been a hotbed for film production over the years, a backdrop for the macabre and the eerie. Movies like "Tango and Cash" (who can forget the tripod shower scene?) 😂"The Shawshank Redemption" (fart in the wind scene) and "Air Force One" had brought its chilling corridors to life, but it was the filming of "Dr. Sleep," Stephen King's terrifying sequel to "The Shining," that had sent shivers down the spines of even the most stoic of visitors. Our tour guide, a plump woman with a penchant for dramatic flair, regaled us with tales of the actors' eerie encounters and the meticulous craftsmanship of the production team. She spoke of Mike Flanagan, the director, and his uncanny ability to bring the horror of King's pages to the silver screen. As she recounted the story of a particular scene, where the character Dan Torrance was haunted by the ghosts of the Overlook Hotel, a chill ran down my spine. It was as if the very air had turned to ice, a prelude to the horrors I would soon witness.
In the collectibles store, an array of oddities and mementos from the films and the prison's history beckoned. I scanned the shelves, my eyes lingering on the "Redrum" keychains and "Shawshank" posters, when I heard a faint whisper, a ghostly echo of a line from the very movie we were discussing. "You're not fooling anyone, Mr. Torrance," it said, the words seeming to float around me like a malignant mist. I spun around, expecting to find a prankster in the aisles, but there was no one there, just the inanimate objects staring back with silent accusation. Or perhaps it was my own mind playing tricks on me, eager to find the fear that I so vehemently denied existed.
The tour commenced, and we shuffled through the prison's bowels, the walls whispering secrets of the inmates who had once called this hellish place home. Our guide spoke of the ghosts that lingered, their spirits trapped in the very fabric of the building. She mentioned the ghost of a young girl who played with a red ball, a phantom that had been spotted by numerous visitors and staff members alike. I couldn't help but roll my eyes at the cliché, the thought of a ghost playing with a toy seeming more absurd than terrifying. But as the night grew...
Or get Busy Dying
That's goddamn Right!"
Morgan Freeman as Red in
TSR Stephen King 👑
🥼⛓️
A #WRITCO Horror Story
🚿 🩸
(Caution: Mildly Graphic)
🌈 📖
The Ohio State Reformatory, a bastion of cold, unyielding stone, stood tall and proud in the fading light of the evening. Its ivy-covered walls whispered of secrets long buried, secrets that had been the muse for countless tales of horror and despair. Yet, as I stepped through its gates, I couldn't help but feel a strange disconnect from the grim past that had earned it the reputation as one of the most haunted places in America. As a man of science and logic, I had always dismissed such stories as the desperate grasping of those seeking solace in the supernatural, a crutch for the weak-minded. But there was something in the air that night that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, a sense of anticipation that seemed to hum in every shadow.
My name is Damian, and I'm not one to be easily swayed by the whispers of the past. I've spent countless hours poring over the annals of history, seeking out the truth behind the legend of this infamous prison. I had signed up for the overnight ghost tour, a dare from my so-called friends who knew full well of my skepticism. But as I walked through the hallowed halls, surrounded by the echoes of long-forgotten screams and the clanging of distant cell doors, I couldn't shake the feeling that this place held more than just dusty relics and Hollywood glamour.
The Reformatory had been a hotbed for film production over the years, a backdrop for the macabre and the eerie. Movies like "Tango and Cash" (who can forget the tripod shower scene?) 😂"The Shawshank Redemption" (fart in the wind scene) and "Air Force One" had brought its chilling corridors to life, but it was the filming of "Dr. Sleep," Stephen King's terrifying sequel to "The Shining," that had sent shivers down the spines of even the most stoic of visitors. Our tour guide, a plump woman with a penchant for dramatic flair, regaled us with tales of the actors' eerie encounters and the meticulous craftsmanship of the production team. She spoke of Mike Flanagan, the director, and his uncanny ability to bring the horror of King's pages to the silver screen. As she recounted the story of a particular scene, where the character Dan Torrance was haunted by the ghosts of the Overlook Hotel, a chill ran down my spine. It was as if the very air had turned to ice, a prelude to the horrors I would soon witness.
In the collectibles store, an array of oddities and mementos from the films and the prison's history beckoned. I scanned the shelves, my eyes lingering on the "Redrum" keychains and "Shawshank" posters, when I heard a faint whisper, a ghostly echo of a line from the very movie we were discussing. "You're not fooling anyone, Mr. Torrance," it said, the words seeming to float around me like a malignant mist. I spun around, expecting to find a prankster in the aisles, but there was no one there, just the inanimate objects staring back with silent accusation. Or perhaps it was my own mind playing tricks on me, eager to find the fear that I so vehemently denied existed.
The tour commenced, and we shuffled through the prison's bowels, the walls whispering secrets of the inmates who had once called this hellish place home. Our guide spoke of the ghosts that lingered, their spirits trapped in the very fabric of the building. She mentioned the ghost of a young girl who played with a red ball, a phantom that had been spotted by numerous visitors and staff members alike. I couldn't help but roll my eyes at the cliché, the thought of a ghost playing with a toy seeming more absurd than terrifying. But as the night grew...
