Dark and foreboding, the façade of the Prison loomed above us. We were here for something special. Tonight was the night of the Ghost tour. Stumbling across the website one day, we had decided it looked like fun, so here we were. Standing around in the icy cold at nine o’clock at night is not something we would normally do. This looked like being a good night. Walking in through the heavy metal doors, we made our way to the museum.

Formally the mess hall, this room had been transformed and all sorts of apparatus, designed to torture and care for inmates was on display. After looking around for a while, we were split into groups. Each group went to a different section to explore. Looking at where the prisoners bathed and slept was disturbing, not as much as the kitchen though, Down those hard and icy, bluestone stairs, we went. So dark, you could barely see, everyone huddled together. Hearing the stories of what life must have been like, chilled us to our cores.

It was a relief when the tour was over. Sitting around, eating and talking, we were able to laugh off the sensations that had greeted us. Saying goodbye to most of the people who had joined us, the rest waited. Being grouped into quartets, with a guide to take us around, we started the real fun of the evening. Now, we were going hunting for ghosts.

Making our way to the wing that had formally held the criminally insane, we set up in one of the tiny rooms. All it contained was a bed and a blanket. Asking questions out loud, we tried to elicit a response from any ghosts that may be lingering. We got no reply though. Feeling a little silly, I looked on while others around me asked very personal and cruel questions, like, Did you really like hurting children? The former resident was supposed to have hurt a number of children in his time. Still we got no response.

Finally, we left that room and headed toward another that had been known to have activity go on. Making our way past the doorways, everyone was disappointed, yet hopeful. Out of nowhere something gripped my right ankle and sharp pain tore through it. Putting my foot on the ground, it was unable to bear my weight. I cried out in pain. It felt like something had grabbed my ankle and squeezed. Looking around, none of us could see anything.