“Okay, okay. I didn’t learn about it until my second summer working here. Do you at least know about the massacres?”
God. So much for getting out of here on time.
I should leave. I really should.
I may regret it later, but instead, I shake my head.
Nicole is listening as intently as I am, though I know she already knows where this is going.
“Wow, you know nothing,” he sighs, running a hand over his jaw in exasperation. If it's that much of a hassle to tell me, then he should just let me go home. But for some reason, my feet are firmly planted on the concrete floor, and I’m a little more interested in this story than I wish I were. “Guess it's not surprising since you haven’t been working here long. Three massacres happened in the park.”
That catches me off guard. Three? It seems excessive considering this park is still as popular as it is.
“One in the 1950s, another in the 1980s, and the most recent one was about five years ago. The one that happened five years ago was the biggest. Twelve people were shot in the middle of the night, where the old rollercoaster was at the edge of the park before they rebuilt it. The other murders before that were one or two people in the middle of the night when the park was closed.” He inhales, shaking his head like he’s trying to add to the horrifying factor of this story.
That’s what this is—a story.
Jeremy continues. “It’s rumored that someone saw what happened. They watched as their bloody bodies were dragged off through the night to one of the nearby buildings. The incident was reported to local authorities, but by the time they arrived, the park was spotless. Not a trace of blood left behind.”
Nicole joins in now, “The next day, multiple workers came forward saying they heard disturbing screams coming from somewhere nearby. But when they checked it out, the sounds weren’t coming from anywhere around them. It’s not until they listened more closely and followed the noises that they realized it was coming from the air vents. They were being tortured.”
My brows pull together. Despite my best effort, my voice shakes. “They?”
“Some of those people were still alive when someone dragged them off,” Jeremy clarifies.
The gears in my head are running on overdrive. I swear Jeremy and Nicole are waiting for the moment when they finally burn out and smoke starts billowing out of my ears before they yell, “Just kidding!”
But they don’t. I analyze their body language, and the seriousness there is unsettling.
The pieces start clicking into place. “You said people call it The Evisceration Cellar.” My face contorts into disgust. “There’s a conspiracy theory that they were removing the organs of those people who were shot?”
Jeremy's lips twitch as he nods.
I blow out a raspberry. “You guys are so full of shit.”
His hands rise in front of him, palms facing me as if I offended him. “Hey, I didn’t come up with the story.”
“There’s no way that someone is doing that under the park. Orwasdoing that.” My argument feels weak somehow.
But people can be disguised as monsters, Kate.
Don’t forget that and let your guard down.
I don’t want to believe it.
It’s preposterous.
Eccentric and immoral in ways that knot my own organs into balls I’ll never untangle, just pondering the visuals of it all.
And I was a nurse.
My stomach can handle a lot, but this is another level that will make me physically ill if I think too much about it, since exposure to a blade while being cognizant is something I’m familiar with and wish I weren’t.
I can tell myself that it's implausible all I want to. Still, it doesn’t calm the hungry, curious part that wants to dive deeper into the theory—the history of a place that appears joyful on the surface but may be concealing something darker beneath.
“It’s said that they are still trapped under the park and that you can hear their souls crying out for help if you listen closely enough. I’ve heard them.” I don’t like the way Jeremy says that arrogantly, like he should win a trophy for having the ears of a damn bat.
“That’s it?” I say. “That’s the story?”
