"I don't know what I'm going to do for history."
My friend Rebecca and I were trying to figure out what to do for our project. We had to research an old building or site, but we only had two options: a boring warehouse, which everyone has chosen; or an abandoned mental hospital for the criminally insane, that no one dares approach.
"We have to choose the hospital Rebs, we can't not do it."
"You do know it's highly dangerous. Apparently, a patient broke loose, attacking the doctors and patients. He was never seen or heard of after."
"I remember that: Titan. He was nicknamed after his sheer height and muscle. The hospital was too damaged and run down, it's a shame really."
We set a plan. To be ahead of the game, we were going to visit and take photos. The plan was to spend two nights there, bringing camping gear, and write our project whilst we were there; we just needed to get the go ahead from our parents.
"We meet there in a week."
"Done."
A week later we stood outside Jaston Home. It was a tall building with evidence of wear on its face. The windows were a Victorian design, the glass crystal and filthy. We walked in, moving down the less dilapidated corridors, avoiding the occasional holes in the floor. We found a room each, next door to each other, and unpacked our belongings.
"I'm going to go on the hunt for food Ray. I'll be back in a couple of hours."
"Good thinking, I'll start on our project."
Rebs left my room, her footsteps echoing down the corridor. Looking out my foggy window, I saw the outside recreation grounds; I made a mental note about the discarded lawn chairs and what appears to have once been a child's swing – the appearance of the place could form a whole page of my project. Out the corner of my eye, I noticed a large opening in the wall that had recently been disturbed. We didn't enter through there, so who did?
I pulled myself out of my train of thought and turned my attention to the corridor, which was a pure example of mid-20th century décor, complete with mahogany trimmings and tiled flooring. I walked down the corridor, noting where I was at every turn so as not to get lost. After a while, I found 'Red Ward' – this is where Titan was held. I did not have a chance to examine the ward much though, as I took three steps and the floor gave way. I hit my head on a wall. My last waking thought was that someone had caught me.
- A few hours later –
I awoke in a bed that definitely didn't smell like me, actually it rather stank. I couldn't sit up; someone had wrapped a blanket round me and placed me on a wrecked bed. Using that great talent of looking around, I spied a blue flower on the window sill and a bottle of water beside the bed. I also noticed some straps attached to the bed, most likely from the previous patient in here.
My observations were interrupted by the noise of footsteps down the corridor. There was a brief pause, then the footsteps resumed. As the person stepped into the room, you could have knocked me over with a feather. A mass of 7ft tall muscle entered the room.
"Are you Titan?"