Ocean View Hospital, CA.
9:00 PM. Hour One.

If you die before you wake,
Do not cry and do not ache.
Nothing's ever yours to keep.
So close your eyes and go to sleep.

The room had grown increasingly colder throughout the evening, so cold that one could see their breath while inside. Earlier in the week, there had been murmurs of a repairman coming by to fix the heater, but so far no one had shown. This wasn't surprising though, considering how little effort the staff put into maintaining the stability of the hospital. It didn't make sense since it was a business for them, after all.

Throughout the building, a calming green paint had been plastered on the walls, but this was some time ago. The paint was peeling off the musty walls, showing hints of gray from the original drywall underneath. The floor was designed from dirty, square tiles that formed different geometric patterns in their colors; yet, the construction crew had put it together poorly as a few of the diamond shaped pieces were higher than the rest, throwing off the flow of the design. If stared at for too long - as some often found themselves doing - the flaw would make anyone nervous, not just the patients.

Out in the hallway, the lights were dim - in desperate need of a light bulb change - as well as flickering. The walls and floors were decorated with various stains from whatever had happened throughout the years. Beyond that, the absence of noise was nauseating; every single sound throughout the building could be heard if one focused hard enough. The entire scene was rather pathetic.

Then, there was Room 202. The long time patients whispered about it being haunted; it had turned into a game of telephone where no one knew the exact origins of the story. But, one version of the tale had managed to stick the longest. The patients would lower their voices and dart their eyes back and forth to make sure not a single nurse was insight before telling the ballad of Mr. Edward Allen.

In the early 1980s, Edward Allen hung himself in Room 202 during the midst of a psychological breakdown. This, however, occurred after he managed to steal one of the knives from the kitchen and hide it under his mattress. Throughout the day, Edward stayed in his room - an unusual type of behavior - and waited for the nurse to visit him before lights out. When she arrived, he stabbed her in the back fourteen times and used her blood to write his suicide note on the wall, moments before taking his own life. The entire event was especially saddening when learning Edward was days away from his release.

The scene had been quite grotesque and resulted in the room being closed off for over thirty years. Some of the patients, even to present day, refused to walk past it, afraid of whatever it was they might have seen if they wandered too close. And, it stayed that way, until now.

Josh Washington sat in his room, the soft light from his desk lamp illuminating just enough for him to see the small words on the pale page of his book. As he read, he toyed with the torn cover, peeling bits of the material off and flicking them onto the ground below. With a sigh, he leaned back against the limp, yellowed pillow on his bed, cringing as he felt the bars of the headboard press into his back. He placed the book in his lap as he reached his arms out in front of him, interlocking his fingers to stretch them out, resulting in a couple satisfying pops. He stared at the meaningless words on the page in front of him; it truly required sheer boredom to read a mediocre book for the fourth time since his arrival. He was beginning to memorize bits of dialogue from the most insignificant scenes.

It would end up alright, though, because he was going to be out of the hospital soon. In fact, he had just had a meeting with his doctor earlier in the day and received the best news he had heard in awhile: his symptoms were improving. He suspected that he would be discharged in less than a week - that is, if his mood remained stable. But, it would; Josh knew it would.

It wasn't like he could spend the rest of his life trapped in a hospital. That sort of living was definitely not what his sis… It wasn't what anyone wanted for him. Well, he assumed this was the case; it wasn't like any of his family or friends had come by to visit him during his stay. In the beginning, he had asked one of the nurses if he was allowed visitation, to which he discovered he was. But, as he found himself saying quite often, it was alright; he would be free soon.

A harsh knock on the metal door startled him out of his thoughts. With a jolt, he straightened himself out on the bed, keeping the book in a distanced position from his body. He peered through the small, gated window into the hallway to see the dim lights were still on; he was usually careful not to stay up past lights out.

The large door creaked open, a bit of chipped white paint falling to the floor with the sudden movement. Josh's heart crashed against the inside of his chest; receiving a mark for staying up past his designated curfew was the last thing he needed before his release.

The light from the hallway poured into the room, lighting only half of it, and revealed a young nurse standing behind the threshold. Leaning forward and causing the bed to creak, he squinted to see if he could recognize the woman.

"Who are you?" He asked, his forehead creasing as he tossed his book to the side, a soft plop following its landing.

The nurse walked into the room, slowly closing the heavy door behind her. She had dark hair that curled at the bottoms - a look that most definitely required much effort before her shift. Her attire was strange as it didn't match the rest of the nurse's uniforms; the faded stripes on her skirt were horizontal rather the vertical, the pattern he was most familiar with.

She smiled widely, exposing her bright teeth, as she stepped toward him, pausing at the end of his bed. "I'm Nurse Mack."

Josh slightly tilted his head to the side as he brought himself closer to her. "I've never seen you before… You aren't one of the regular nurses?" He shook his head as he awaited her response.

"No," She began, reaching down to graze her fingernails against the chipping paint on the bed railing, picking at the specks. "I'm usually stationed a floor up, but tonight I was needed down here."

He nodded, taking his eyes away from the nurse… Something about her made him uneasy. Maybe it was simply the fact that she was a stranger to him, regardless of her nametag and uniform. Or, perhaps it was the faded stain on the side of her blouse that really should have been tossed. "I didn't realize it was past lights out… You're not gonna write me up, are you?"

Nurse Mack chuckled, rather inappropriately, as she eyed him. "No, silly!" Her voice was a bit too chirpy, out of place for their setting. "I'm just making the rounds to tell everyone that we're expected to have a nasty storm tonight. We don't want anyone to be unprepared for the thunder and lightning."

"Oh," He nodded, feeling the heat rush to his cheeks. God, he was such a… "Well, alright. Thanks for letting me know. I think I'll be okay; I'm not really afraid of storms."

She nodded, but remained positioned at the foot of his bed, keeping her eyes glued on him while her body stayed frozen. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Josh swallowed hard and cleared his throat, hoping she would get the hint and move along to the next room. She parted her lips and smiled at him, her dark eyes piercing through his body.

"There is one other thing," She paused for a moment to slide her hands into the front pocket of her skirt. In a second, she retrieved a faded envelope and held it in her hand, the folded side facing toward him. He leaned in toward her, hesitant of what accepting the letter might cause. A crease formed in his forehead as he reached out for the envelope, his fingers almost curling around the thin paper before she yanked it away. "Do not open this until you get the signal. If you open it before then, he'll be mad."

She extended her arm and handed him the envelope, to which he hastily grabbed and held tight in his shaky hands. With his forehead tight, he looked down at the yellowed front. "What signal? How will I know the signal?" He looked up from the envelope to see the rusted metal door closing shut, the nurse's white skirt disappearing behind it into the dimly lit hallway.

His hands shook as he held the slightly torn enclosure in his grip. The envelope looked as if it had been sealed quite some time ago considering the coffee ring stain and the faded color. There was nothing important written on either side other than a sloppy cursive "Josh" on the front. The blue ink was smeared and turning discolored with age. It had to be some kind of medical record from Dr. Hill about his dischargement. Or, maybe it was from his parents or the police department. Maybe it was from…

But, why wouldn't he be allowed to open it? Who was going to get mad at him if he peeked before the unidentified signal? The entire thing was completely ridiculous… Were they watching him? Had they been spying on him the entire time he was there? Is that how some of the nurses and doctors knew such miniscule details about what he did throughout the day?

Josh's eyes darted to the upper corner of the room, searching for any indication of a hidden security camera. He threw his legs over the side of the bed, the white slippers the hospital had provided sliding on the tile. Behind him, he tossed the envelope on the mattress, more concerned with a potential breach of his privacy than the mysterious letter. He made his way to the side, standing directly at the edge as he tilted his head back to get a better view of the ceiling.

No, he thought as he stumbled backwards, The ceiling is too obvious. Anyone would think of that… If the hospital had placed any sort of hidden recording device, it would have been in something they provided. It would be hidden in place where no one would see it…

He hurried over to the small writing desk along the left side of the wall, taking a moment to study the set up. There were very few objects on it, and the few that were were guarded or nailed to the desk. In a single swift movement, he knocked all his papers, books, and journals to the ground, letting the loose leaf pages fly throughout the small room. His heart was racing inside his chest as he fell to his knees to feel under the desk for any sort of device that didn't belong.

There was nothing. Maybe… Maybe he was just being paranoid. No. No, he wasn't; it was just too coincidental what some of the staff knew about him. But, then again, maybe he had told them and he just forgot. It wasn't unusual for him to forget -

The lamp. He pulled himself up from the ground and brought his eyes level to the light. The lightbulb was guarded by a small metal cage to prevent patients from removing it to use as a weapon. He reached for the switch and powered it off, sticking his fingers in between the grate to feel for a planted device. After a moment of frustrating searching, his fingers grazed against a small metallic box.

His heart stopped. With a grunt, he dislodged it and held the part in the palm of his hand, studying it up close; in the center, a tiny red light flashed on and off in a perfect regular beat. His entire body began to shake… They'd been listening. They had heard the late night conversations he had with himself, talking about the things he only wanted himself to know. They had to have told Dr. Hill, right? Maybe he wasn't going to be discharged. Maybe it was all a trap.

A pounding sound from outside the door startled him, causing him to drop the recording device. With his breath stopped, he reached down to grab it, stuffing it into the pocket of his sweatpants. The door widened, revealing one of the staff nurses he had gotten to know quite well throughout his stay. Or, he did know anyone? They surely seemed to know him.

"Josh, I -" The nurse cut himself off as he stood in the doorway, taking in the scene of the nearly destroyed room. He brought his hands to the nape of his neck, rubbing the spot. "Oh, wow… Yeah, okay… We'll worry about this later. Did Nurse Mack come by to tell you about the storm?" Josh nodded, remaining silent and still as he cautiously eyed the nurse, "Alright, good… Um… I need you to come with me, think you can do that?"

"Why?" He raised his brow; he could feel the device heating up inside his pocket, begging to draw attention to itself - trying its hardest to get him in trouble. It was working against him. Did they know he had removed it?

"You have visitors waiting for you," The nurse explained.

Josh tilted his head as his eyes widened in confusion, "It's past visitation hours," He could feel his heartbeat rising once again; what if something was wrong. Did this have anything to do with the envelope? Oh shit, he thought, the envelope. Out of his peripheral view he saw it laying in the center of his bed, in plain sight for anyone to see.

The nurse stared at him, his hand returning to the back of his neck, "I… It's an emergency."

He felt his stomach sink. It was bad, he knew it was bad. If the nervousness of the nurse wasn't enough to give it away, the fact his loved ones were allowed to speak to him (and making their first visit this late into his stay) past hours was clear enough. With a nod, he removed his hand from his pocket, hoping the device wouldn't cause any trouble. The nurse gave him an empty smile as he widened the door, letting Josh step out into the hallway before leading the way.

There were a few uncomfortable seconds of silence as they made their way down the darkened, empty corridor. From outside one of the large windows, a bright flash of lightning cracked against the black sky, followed by a loud crash of thunder that caused Josh to jump.

He felt a sturdy hand on his shoulder that burned to the touch, "It's alright, man; you're safe in here."

Josh compliantly nodded as he moved his eyes to the floor, watching his feet as they travelled down the hallway. He listened to the sound of his shuffling footsteps echoing throughout the silence, matching along to the pace of the nurse's. It felt as if the corridor was infinite, stretching on forever just to prolong the wondering torture. Every door they passed looked the same. Maybe it was torture. Maybe they already knew he removed the device. Maybe there were no visitors.

He couldn't go on; he stopped walking, his white slippers stuck to the ground. It took a moment for the nurse to realize he had been continuing alone. Josh lifted his head toward the nurse, keeping his eyes off of his. "Who are the visitors?"

"I'm not sure," The nurse shrugged, "I didn't actually seem them; I was just told to come get you."

He frowned, "I need to know who it is or I'm not going."

"Josh," The nurse sighed heavily, the rings around his eyes showing, and he slightly chuckled as he reached out to put his hand on the back of the shorter man's shoulder. Josh flinched, disturbed by the sudden touch. The nurse didn't seem to notice, or care, and gave him a slight shake. "You do know where you are, right?" He paused, waiting for Josh to acknowledge him, "I'm sure it's just your parents. There's no need to be hesitant; we haven't done anything distrustful to you."

Yeah, Josh thought, the heat radiating from the device, nearly burning his skin through the fabric of his sweatpants, nothing at all.

With a forced nod, he began to walk down the corridor, suddenly weary of the nurse beside him. It was going to be fine. It was going to be fine. It was going to be fine. It was going to be fine.

"Alright, just go through this door right there, and I'll be out here waiting for you when you're finished," The nurse looked over at him, giving him a light smile, "It's alright, go on through; they're waiting."

Josh's palms began to sweat. He rubbed them against the sides of his sweatpants, but it didn't matter; the perspiration was excessive. The door had a frame in the middle with a small window that peered into the dull room. In the center, there was a metal table, nailed to the floor, but no one was sitting in the matching chairs. Concerned, he turned his head back to the nurse who replied with a silent nod of the head. You're stalling, he told himself, just open the door.

After he did, he wished he hadn't.

Behind him, the door flew shut, the whoosh echoing throughout the small room. In the corner, two smaller-shaped figures stood with their backs to him, hiding in the shadows. His feet were plastered to the floor, keeping him trapped and vulnerable in front of the door. Every part of his being told him to run, but there was no where to go.

"Hello, Josh," One of the figures growled. His breathing stopped; the only noise that could be heard was the fast pace of his heart. It was too much; it was going to explode. This couldn't be happening. No way. This was impossible.

He shook his head repeatedly, taking a step back towards the door, "No, this isn't… You're not real. Leave me alone, you're not real."

The two figures turned to face him, their faces still covered by the darkness. After a beat, they stepped forward, hand-in-hand, and paused once they reached the light. Their skin was pale and covered in hardened mud. They were both wearing identical light blue dresses, torn, scratched, and bloody in various places.

"We are real, Josh," One of the girls taunted, "As real as you are."

He shook his head frantically, his throat tightening while his voice cracked, "No," He could feel the tears building up in his eyelids as the blood rushed to his cheeks. The room had turned ten degrees cooler, and his breath showed as he spoke. His back was completely pressed against the door, and he reached behind him to pull the handle, but it remained shut. "You aren't real."

"Why did you do this to us? Don't you care about Beth and I?" She stepped closer to him, revealing her scratched skin and matted hair. She snarled as he whimpered to himself, "Why did you kill us, Josh?"

He started crying, unable to hold in the tears any longer, "No… No… I didn't… I didn't do it… Please, it wasn't me. I didn't even know what was happening."

"Maybe if you weren't too busy getting blackout drunk you could've done something to save us. Your negligence killed us," Hannah spat, her grip tightening on her sister's fragile hand.

Josh let his back slide against the metallic door until he sat on the ground, an awful screech coming from the movement. He pulled his knees to his chest, bringing his head down into his legs, closing his eyes as tight as he could. He rocked forward, sobbing in between his babbling, "No… No… No… You're not real. You're not real. You're not real."

Beth lowered herself to the ground and placed her cold hand on her brother's knee. Her hair was matted and her face was dirty; there was a deep slash on her cheek that showed the inside of her mouth. The lacerations and contusions decorated her body, barely kept hidden by her torn and faded dress. Her skin was pale and translucent; it looked as if all her organs were on display for the world to see.

"Josh, look at me," Her voice was soft as she waited for him to do as she delicately asked. With tears streaming down his cheeks, he brought his head up to hers, unable to look into her dark eyes. His bottom lip quivered as he stared into the darkness behind her. Beth lifted her limp hand from his knee and brought it to the side of his face, her cold touch sending a shiver down his spine. She smiled lightly while she kept her hand on his cheek, feeling him tremble beneath her touch. "We know that you didn't mean to, but you did. It's going to haunt you for the rest of your life, and that's just the way it has to be. If we had to suffer, then so do you."

Before he could register her words, he felt a sharp sensation against his face. His jaw dropped as the skin on his cheek burned from the sudden touch. Beth shoved herself away from his body and stood up, towering over him. "You're so pathetic, Josh. You're lucky enough to still be alive and you can't even appreciate it; you got yourself stuck in here. This is all you're going to be from now on," She gestured to him rocking back and forth while he whimpered, trying to drown out her words with anything else he could think of. "You're always going to be a fucked up lunatic."

"Leave me alone!" He shouted, shutting his eyes as tightly as he could while he trembled. This couldn't be happening, it couldn't be real. Hannah and Beth were gone. This was a hallucination. It had to be. How did he even get here? The moments that led up to him entering the visitation room had to have happened… Someone had to have escorted him out of his room and into this one.

The nurse. It was the nurse that told him about the visitors. But, he knew the nurse - he trusted him. Did he, though? Could he trust any of them anymore? Which of the people he had seen throughout the night were real and which were tricks being played on him by his untrustworthy brain? Was the nurse still waiting on him outside? Could he hear the screaming? Did he make him see his sisters?

He had to find out; the nurse was his only sense of sanity left, regardless if he could trust someone at the institution or not. After mustering all the courage he had left in him, Josh opened his eyes, waiting for one of his sisters to conjure some new method of torture for him. But, they were gone - they had vanished to who knows where, it didn't matter.

Using the long door handle as support, he lifted himself up from the cold ground, his entire body shaking as he adjusted himself to his higher position. There was a new, haunting chill that filled the room - the kind of chill that felt like it was crawling up the skin, a parasite looking for a way to get in. His eyes darted around the room; the girls were definitely gone. He pressed the handle on the door, and much to his surprise, it swung open, freeing him from the torture chamber more commonly known as the visitation room.

The nurse was nowhere to be seen. He scrunched up his face, fearing that maybe the nurse was a figment of his fucked up imagination. The lights down the hallway flickered, the zapping noise filling up the emptiness and confirming his loneliness.

"Nurse?" He called out into the empty building, anxiously awaiting any sort of reply. When one wasn't received, he sighed, feeling the shakiness in his hands intensify. Josh began to wander through the waiting center, hoping that maybe the nurse had excused himself to the restroom for a moment.

He was real, though. This was the nurse that usually gave him his medicine in the morning, the nurse that checked up on him throughout the day. He was real. There was some doubt surrounding the existence of his sisters, but the nurse was -

"Oh, shit!" Josh cursed as he abruptly stopped, his entire body freezing. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the scene in front of him - it was undoubtedly the worst thing he had ever seen. When things began to register in his mind, he felt nauseous, his mushy dinner threatening to come back to him. He brought his hands to his head, holding on to the sides of his face in shock, "No, this cannot be happening. This is not real. Fuck… No…"

On the wall, hung by the throat by a series of rusted chains, the nurse's body swayed slightly. His all-white uniform had been drenched in blood from the multiple lacerations across the front of his body. One of his shoes were missing, along with his big toe. His body had been slashed from the throat down, his bloody intestines spilling out of the opening. But, the worst part - as if the rest wasn't awful enough - was the decapitated pig's head that had been placed over his own, his beaten, bruised face sticking out through this pig's mouth. On the wall, written in a dripping ooze of blood, the words "This little piggy should've stayed home!" stared back at him.

"Oh, no, no, no…" Josh fell to the ground, shaking his head as he held it in his hands. The blood was pouring off the nurse's body, forming a puddle on the white tile. The drip echoed throughout the room, replaying over and over inside his head. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!"

This couldn't be real, could it?