The Ghost of Austin

It is my first time journaling what happened. A year has passed yet the incident still haunts my thoughts. Not knowing is the hardest part. I write this message primarily in hopes of finding clarity and peace so that I may let go and move on. 

Let me offer a brief introduction. My name is Jacob. I’m 32 years old and retired‒thanks to a fortunate business venture early in my life. Soon after retiring I crossed paths with my girlfriend Myra, who was starting her own business as an influencer and blogger. We hit it off instantly as her blog is about travel, and my retirement has allowed me to move anywhere at any time. Our love for adventure and travel has always kept a bond between us. 

Skipping beyond any further background, let me dive into the story. Last year at a major social influencers' convention in Austin, Myra took the lead by orchestrating the whole show. I was just along for the ride, happy to explore a new city. We stayed above the convention center in the hotel. Myra thrives interacting with social media, but it has never been my scene. The bustling event didn't appeal to me, so I ventured into Austin alone.

Exploring the city was fantastic. On the second day of the convention after returning from a picturesque park, I encountered a homeless man seeking spare change. While most people passed him by, I saw a chance to engage with someone holding a wealth of life stories.

The homeless man I encountered was Robert. Offering to buy him lunch, we headed to a nearby sandwich shop. Unsurprisingly, the older man‒a veteran with multiple army tours‒shared incredible stories. Captivated by a side of life often misunderstood, we talked for hours. I got him some food to go, and together we walked back towards the hotel.

Our parting conversation remains vivid in my memory, as if it occurred just moments ago.

"By the way, since you know Austin well, can you show me something unique, away from the usual tourist spots?" My curiosity sought a different perspective on the city.

Robert paused, gazing downward deep in thought. He slowly looked up and said, “I’ll tell ya what, Austin’s a fine city, but one thing I’ve never seen before is the activity that happens in the building across from this hotel here.” 

Puzzled, I asked why. He then replied, “Wait until midnight, then watch the 6th floor. I sometimes sneak into the hotel for some warmth. I go up to the 7th floor lobby. Every time I do, I’ve seen the exact thing happen across the way.” 

Intrigued by his lack of detail, I agreed to take a look. I half expected to see a work fling or something silly. I had no idea what I was about to witness, but his expression was showing signs of excitement and fear. 

Robert had a cellphone that someone had generously donated to him. It was a cheap prepaid device, but it could make calls and text. I gave him my number, and I told him I’d text him if I witnessed anything. He smiled and nodded. With that, he casually strolled back to the alley beside the hotel, his destination for the night.

Throughout the day my mind lingered on the anticipation of what I might witness. When midnight struck, I slipped out of bed heading to the hotel window. Myra and I were on the 7th floor facing the street, and I had a good view of the building Robert had referred to. Lights illuminating the sixth floor of the building revealed an ordinary office. Scanning the floor, I noticed a woman walking through the office. She was a tall and slender brunette, maybe in her early 40’s. She wore a business suit, but was also very disheveled in appearance. She was shredding papers. As the minutes passed things turned from normal to strange. The woman now appeared to be walking to various cubicles and talking to fellow employees. The increasingly disturbing revelation was the entire 6th floor was devoid of anyone except her. It looked as if people were once present, but they had left in a rush as the office was in massive disorder.

The longer I watched the more disturbed I became as the situation spiraled into pure madness. The woman began throwing items around the office. From what I could ascertain she looked as if she was screaming at the top of her lungs. At one surreal moment, she physically lifted a table and flung it across the office. 

Now the atmosphere shifted from disturbing to downright terrifying. As she lifted a chair to throw, a sudden pause immobilized her. Frozen mid-motion she slowly turned her head, locking eyes with mine directly. Despite our hotel room lights being off, her gaze felt as if she peered into the very depths of my being. This unnerving encounter unfolded within seconds and prompted me to hastily shut the window and stagger back from the curtain. Though not in full-blown panic, I was left grappling with the haunting question:  What had I just witnessed?

After gathering myself, I summoned the courage to approach the window again although I refrained from fully opening the curtain. Gradually, I peeked around its edge. The lights on the sixth floor were off, but the full moon cast an eerie glow, revealing the faint silhouette of a figure gazing in my direction. Swiftly, I retreated once more.

I jumped as my phone vibrated. It was a text from Robert. All it said was: 

“Now you’ve seen ‘The Ghost of Austin’.”

We texted back and forth for almost an hour. Despite my barrage of questions, Robert's knowledge was limited. While some locals in his circle were aware of the anomaly, the prevailing sentiment ranged from indifference to outright fear, dissuading any further investigation.

The remainder of the night, I didn’t sleep. I spent the entire night immersed in deep internet dives for this ‘Ghost of Austin’. Despite my efforts, there wasn’t much substantial data online to find. All I could find were a few local posts scattered across social blogs and media. 

That very next day, I’m convinced I made the worst mistake of my life. My persistent curiosity led me to a decision. I was going to venture over to the building during the day and investigate. I wasn’t much of a ghost hunter, but I wanted to know what was going on over there. Robert had said things seemed pretty normal during the day. So I had lied to myself and assumed it would be safe. Without delay, I strolled across the street to the building. Despite its considerable size, the absence of people coming or going surprised me. Upon entering the main lobby, a startled security guard sprang from his seat, reacting as if he'd seen a ghost. Politely I greeted him, explaining my interest in sightseeing and my curiosity about the history of the old office building.

“Man this ain’t no special building. It’s a foreclosure from a real estate scandal about ten years ago. It’s now a government building for the Department of Health and Safety,” the guard had told me. He still seemed suspicious as to why I was there. 

I tried to play off his skeptic nature and dig for more information. “Department of Health and Safety? So this building is currently in use?”

“Yep! And I don’t think they even utilize it now. There’s a research lab on the 6th floor and some medical offices, but honestly, it hasn’t been occupied in a couple years. After 2020, office buildings don't get as much traffic as they used to.” 

During our conversation the guard gradually warmed up to me, and I discovered his name was Patrick. He was trying to work his way through college. I talked about my random adventures around Austin. Eventually, Patrick gave me the green light to explore the lobby floor, adorned with plaques and posters chronicling the building's construction and history. I was informed that the upper floors were closed and off limits to anyone. This made me even more curious as there was literally no one around.

Our talk was cut short by what I would call a great opportunity. Patrick received a call, and excused himself back to the corner of the security kiosk. The conversation seemed to be with a family member, and the call was getting quite heated. I took the opportunity to excuse myself and wander the lobby secretly looking for an access point to the upstairs. From everything I had observed, security seemed quite lax. I had not even identified one location with cameras. 

Towards the rear of the lobby I discovered an unlocked service stairwell. Opting to avoid the elevators, fearing potential surveillance that could lead to eviction before exploration, I slowly ascended the service stairs to the sixth floor. The service door had a window looking in on the main office floor which was eerily silent and seemingly abandoned. Furniture was haphazardly strewn about covered in thick layers of dust. Testing the door cautiously, it creaked open with a high-pitched whine which seemed to echo through the office. The office was very dark even though there were large windows open to the street which I had spied through the night before. The air carried a moldy stench, and as I stepped inside, I found the carpets saturated. It appeared that even the walls and ceiling were drenched in moisture. 

Navigating the office with my phone's light, I ventured through the shadowy labyrinth of cubicles. The air grew increasingly humid the longer I stayed. Reaching the far side, my attention was drawn to a door labeled ‘R&D’. Pressing through, I entered a sprawling lab equipped with medical instruments and sizable cold storage containers. The tile floor, also damp, demanded cautious steps to avoid slipping.

In the heart of the expansive lab, a colossal chest, resembling a casket or a large deep freezer, attracted my attention. The unfamiliar design featured blinking lights on a keypad and a formidable lock securing its sealed handle. Succumbing to curiosity, I touched the chest. Instantaneously, the room's temperature plummeted to bone-chilling levels. The haunting voice of a woman, speaking just above a whisper, still echoes in my memory to this day: "You don't belong here."

Spinning around to face the speaker, the woman from the office now stood a mere five feet away from me. Shock immobilized me, and my reflexes failed as my phone slipped from my grasp plunging the room into darkness. As I fumbled to retrieve my phone, a sudden banging echoed on the lab door. Redirecting my phone's light, I discovered the woman had inexplicably vanished. Despite illuminating the lab in all directions, there was no trace of how or where she disappeared.

The banging on the door intensified, almost sounding as if the door would break down. At that moment, I couldn't discern if it was the security guard I had met or someone much more ominous. Fear paralyzed me, and I hesitated. Continually scanning the lab with my phone's light, I was terrified of an ambush from any direction. The banging abruptly ceased, plunging the surroundings into an unnerving silence. Instinct kicked in, and I shifted into survival mode, realizing there was no alternative exit from the lab. A sense of urgency gripped me, and with a surge of determination, I briskly approached the door. After a few steadying breaths, I flung the door open and sprinted for the stairs. Although the elevators were closer, I couldn't afford to wait. To this day, I'm certain my life hung in the balance. I sprinted with all my might towards the stairs, my heart pounding in my ears. A blood-curdling scream erupted behind me, followed by thunderous footsteps of someone in relentless pursuit. Refusing to glance back, I pressed on, the pursuer gaining ground. An unnerving wheezing sound echoed, intensifying the fear, and the booming footsteps hinted at a colossal figure closing in.

I don’t remember how long I ran through the office trying to make it to the stairs. The details are hazy now. My last memory was getting pushed from behind. I must have flown more than fifty feet hitting the office wall. I think one of my ribs cracked as it hurt to breathe for the next few months. With my fight or flight reflexes still fueling my adrenaline, I picked myself up and bolted for the door exiting the office. I literally bounded down the stairwell three or four steps at a time. 

My first coherent memory I have is standing in the street outside the building. I can't recall if the security guard attempted to communicate with me as I fled. After spending nearly an hour pacing the street, I summoned the remnants of my strength and returned to the hotel. I checked the alley where Robert was living, but it didn’t look as if he was there. Back in the hotel room, I sat in stunned silence trying to process everything. 

As the hours slipped away, dusk settled in, and my mind churned with the uncertainty of what might unfold next. In a moment of clarity, I decided it was unsafe to remain in the same room. Uncertain whether there were two pursuers or just the woman, I had been seen, and now my location was known. I concocted a story and phoned my girlfriend. In the grip of panic, I successfully conveyed a fabricated tale of spotting a rodent in our room. Myra, who hated rodents, promptly complained to the hotel staff. Despite my attempt to secure a room on another floor, their almost fully booked status compelled us to settle for a relocation down the hall. Although not ideal, it felt preferable to remaining in our current room.

Later that night, my phone rang, and I answered to the sound of a panicked Robert on the other end of the line.

"Jacob, buddy, I'm sorry. There's something I should have told you, man. The truth is..." With those words, the call abruptly went dead. Despite my multiple attempts to call back, the call continued to fail. What was the truth? Did Robert possess more information about what was going on? It remains an unanswered mystery.

At midnight that night, the whole hotel lost power. Myra, already asleep, remained undisturbed, but I paced anxiously at the door. In the hallway, echoing footsteps approached, accompanied by that haunting wheezing sound. Unseen, I peered through the peephole and caught sight of a massive, dark figure passing my room, heading towards our previous accommodation. All I could hear was the door simply opening and a loud rumbling in our old room, then nothing. The rest of the night I stood watching the door in pure panic of what might happen. 

The following day, I discreetly spoke with some of the cleaning staff and discovered that someone had deliberately severed the power lines on the entire block. As I had heard the previous night, someone had broken into our old room and ransacked the whole place. I have no idea how I was able to keep my composure. Uncertain of how to convey the unsettling truth to Myra, I clung to the fabricated "rodent in the hotel room" narrative, unsure if she would believe the bizarre reality I had encountered.

I was thwarted in my attempt to locate Robert before departing Austin as his living space in the alley had mysteriously disappeared. His absence left an unsettling void. Leaving Austin behind, Myra and I flew back to Green Bay. Life back home turned tumultuous—I sensed someone was watching me at times and nights became restless, haunted by uncertainty. Was what I saw a figment of my imagination? Was I on the brink of insanity? Writing this today, I have become steadfast in my conviction that what I witnessed was undeniably real.

I convinced Myra to go on a European adventure, covering the entire trip as a surprise to enhance her travel experiences and elevate her media influence. Her overwhelming joy and gratitude masked my hidden motive. It was all orchestrated as a means to escape the country for a while. Amid the facade, I began to entertain the thought that there might be deeper layers to the situation. With the building owned by the government, I wondered if I stumbled on some sort of conspiracy. All I wanted now was to escape the country for a while until I felt things calmed down. 

Over the past six months, we've traveled Europe, and it's been an incredible journey. My anxiety has considerably waned, yet the evenings still occasionally cast a shadow on my peace because I still feel as if I’m being watched. This journal entry serves as my attempt to alleviate stress, but in the event that my deepest fears materialize, I've embedded this journal message in an email. A “send later” timer ticks away on the email; if I don't check in and reset it after a week, it will automatically dispatch to an online media outlet. So, if you're reading this, my darkest apprehensions have likely proved true…