Chapter 1
Doorknob
... ... ...
"What on Earth is happening...?", Monica quietly asked herself the question she had been repeating for the last fifteen minutes. She could vaguely recall running away from her home in Brahms, but somehow the reasons for that slipped out of her reach. It was as if one moment she had been hastily locking the front door of her house, and another - facing this... this monster, furiously beating the crap out of a rotting corpse of something that was barely recognisable as a former human being. It was dead now, through, so Monica allowed herself to stop and take a small breather. She idly wondered what was she doing in... From the look of things, a hospital examination room?
Come to think about it, what was this creature doing in a hospital? What was it even doing at all? Monica wasn't a very intelligent person, and yet she was fairly sure that this abomination had no rights to exist. There simply was no way this... thing... followed the laws of nature. For example, despite being definitely a humanoid, it had no head; it's neck ended in a small hole, from which a weird, long, grey rope originated. Where normal human had chest, this thing had a gaping hole; it had long, hairy arms that ended in stumps of flesh that looked as if someone had sewn it's fingers together to form a fist; despite being about as tall as a typical basketball player, it walked while being hunched over, as if it piggybacked a typical sumo wrestler. And there was also the fact that it's knees seemed to bend backwards..
Monica sighed, clutching her hammer tightly to herself. Maybe she shouldn't have killed this monster. Maybe she should just let it kill her instead. That's what she deserved, after all. She wasn't worth being alive.
Well, I have a hammer. This hammer ended that monsters' existence. Who is to say it wouldn't end mine?...
Monica shook her head. No, it wouldn't. Not because of the hammer in itself, but because of it's pathetic wielder that is too much of a coward to do something good for the world and just whoop her head with it, just as she was supposed to ages ago.
The combined stench of two dead bodies was growing stronger with every second. Monica wrinkled her nose in disapproval and cast one last glance around the room before leaving. That was when she finally noticed something lying on the floor, right next to the gored human corpse.
Led by some unexplainable desire, she bent over and picked up a wrinkled piece of paper. From the look of things, it was a memo, one that had been crumbled, uncrumbled, recrumbled, reuncrumbled, carefully folded and given to a dog as a chewing toy. The paper was torn in few spots, making it hard to read.
The note said:
"[Isabel Hooks]
From the look of injuries, she was hit around 25 times with a IIIIIII, IIIIIt tIIII; through, oddly enough, none of those hits was IIIIIII - her head was hit only three times, while the rest of strikes were performed on her IIIIIII - mainly elbows and kneecaps. Afterwards, she suffered minor buIIIII - it seems like the aggressor set her surroundings on fire and left, thinking she would be too weak to put IIIII IIIIIers out. IIIIIIIIII IIIIat was an assault meant to cripple the victim or plainly kill her is yet unknown (through, given her prideful and snide personality, the former is unlikely). Injury wise, she would be better off in the Alchemilla, but she had to be moved here per IIIIIIIIIIIII. The brain damage is mIIIIor - she is fully conIIIIIIs and aware of the situation she is in, through in all honesty, her constant bickering and the hollier-than-thou attitude she presents make me wish she wasn't. From the commentary III IIIIe of nurses that had the misfortune of being assigned to her room, I assume I am not the only one with such unprofIIIIIInal opinion."
Monica held her breath and reread the memo. Impossible. Here she was, in a strange room of a strange hospital, having killed one strange creature only to find a strange note that strangely informed her that her own mother, which was supposed to be long dead and buried, was strangely ALIVE?!
"This," she muttered under her breath, "is not right. This is madness!"
She tore the paper apart, her voice filled with rage as she growled, "she is dead! She died over two years ago! She cannot be alive!"
Her face red with anger, she kept ripping the note into smaller pieces, over and over, over and over, until the sheet turned into confetti which she tore a bit more just in case. Then, she gathered a fistful of her newborn abstract art and threw it on the rotting corpse.
"She," she roared, "is dead! Dead! Dead!"
She started kicking the body, repeating the word 'dead' louder with every hit.
the rage slowly dying inside her, her voice gradually lost in volume. Her legs gave in and she fell on the ground in a measly heap.
"She died", Monica assured herself one last time. And then, she allowed the tears to flow freely.
... ... ...
"Answers", Monica muttered to herself, wiping her nose with a sleeve of her blouse. "I need to know what happened. I need to find Mom. I need to find..." She paced around the tight corridors filled with flickering candles and rubbish for a few seconds, deep in thought.
Monica cast a quick glance on her surroundings. She was inside of some abandoned hospital, of that there was no doubt. There were multiple cork boards with all sorts of childish drawings on them; some of them depicted probably-meant-to-be-cute animals, some of them were 'portraits' (if a circle with two dots and a happy smile could be considered a proper portrait anyway) and there were also images of yellow, spinney circles with what almost looked like colourful flowers. Strangely enough, some of the images on the cork board didn't spread the same sort of cheer as their neighbours; main examples of that included a picture of a brown house full of smiling people surrounded by flames and childish skulls, an image of a pack of wolves biting a weeping cat-like, tentacled creature and... was that a depiction of a girl playing with a blood-stained doll...? It was hard to tell, seeing how the only source of light in the corridor were flickering candles that shared the floorspace with rubbish, empty cans, fliers and tiny scraps of paper.
One hand under her chin in a 'heavy thinking' pose, Monica turned around the corner and nearly jumped in a pleasant surprise. There, hanging right in front of a wide pair of doors was something that she could swear looked like...
"The map!", Monica exclaimed loudly and nearly ripped off two massive sheets of paper from their cork board. The words "Brookhaven Hospital 1f" were printed on top of the one that - somehow she could feel it - was where she needed to be.
Picking up one of the lit candles from the ground, Monica searched the map for some clue, something that would help her find her way to the truth.
"Bingo", she said to herself with a relieved smile. The reception. There had to be more informations concerning patients in there. And Mom apparently was a patient in this weird hospital, right? There must be some information about her there... She moved to the door behind her, which according to the map should lead her to the reception and froze.
The door had no knob.
Monica cursed under her breath. She placed a hand on the wooden barrier and gave it an experimental push. When that failed to accomplish anything, she devoted both hands to pushing. Seeing the lack of results, she planted her feet on the trash-filled ground and pushed with all her might. Her patience snapping, she backed off a bit, took a deep breath and tackled the door with her shoulder like she had seen people in the movies do.
However, instead of forcing the door open, she simply bounced back, losing balance and falling butt-first on the ground.
"Why won't you let me through?!", she cried at the door. The door didn't seem to mind much.
Monica deeply inhaled, held her breath and counted to ten, then exhaled. The hot, smoke-filled air made her cough a few times, but at the same time it made her anger less of a distraction.
"Okay, keep it classy", she muttered to herself. Deliberately moving as slow as possible, she crawled to sit on the floor, right next to the door and extracted the map from her pocket.
The door that led directly from the hallways to the reception was inaccessible. That did not necessarily mean that reception was totally off-limit - there had to be some back-door entrance she could use, right?
Turns out there was no back-door entrance. Monica shook her head.
"Okay, plan B then. Find a working doorknob", she spoke to noone in particular and sighed. "Who could have expected that one day I would have to look for a doorknob inside of a candle-lit, abandoned hospital full of creepy children drawings..."
A feral howl boomed out somewhere nearby. Her heartbeat racing, Monica rose up to her feet and pointed the hammer in her hands at the dancing shadows cast by the candles.
"Who's there?!", Monica yelled in panic. "Stay away!"
The thing that came out of the shadows didn't seem to be interested in staying away. Quite the contrary, it started limping its way towards the girl, raising it's club-like fists in preparation for a strike. It was very similar to that creature, back from the examination room...
"Don't!", yelled Monica and waved her 'weapon' in a pathetic motion that was probably supposed to be threatening. "Stay away from me, or, or else!"
The monster let out a thundering roar. It swung it's stiff fists. Acting on instinct alone, Monica ducked to evade the attack and immediately struck the creature's stomach with her hammer.
A roar of agony filled the corridor. The monster collapsed on the ground, it's arms flailing vividly in pain. Noticing the opening, Monica sprinted towards it and kicked with all her might.
She kicked the monster as it roared and hissed at her. Gradually, the threatening growls gave way to pained, pathetic whimpers, only to die out completely. Monica stomped it one last time and sighed deeply.
"Okay, candle-lit, abandoned hospital full of creepy children drawings and inhabited by monsters. With hammer only." A sigh. "And talking to myself all the time. What a life."
After catching her breath, Monica once again focused on the map. She needed a doorknob... Where do people in hospitals put their spare doorknobs?... There has to be some room devoted only to holding useless-now-but-desired-someday stuff.
The room titled 'Store room' caught her eyes. According to the map it was supposed to be the first room on her left. Except, as it turned out, it was locked. Figures. Monica looked back to the map.
There was one more store room, on the third floor. If there is no doorknob there, it probably wouldn't be anywhere else either. Monica took a short moment to memorise its position. That done, she pocketed the map and made her way to the stairway, through the flickering flames and the stench of burning candle knots.
... ... ...
The trip up the stairs ended with no incidents, thank the heavens. Candles seemed to be the main attraction of this hospital: they were scattered on every second step, and most of them were burning. Such a big number of flames gathered in a clustered stairway of course generated lots of smoke that gathered on the little part of stairs that would lead Monica to the rooftop and an incredible amount of heat that - unfortunately - she would have to deal with.
"As if a light bulb was too mainstream to even consider", Monica whined while fanning herself with her hands. Fortunately, she was now barely three steps away from the third floor... She reached over to open the door, but suddenly stopped.
"Oh come on, what now?", she angrily demanded. There was a big, black slab of wood covering the upper part of the doorway. Upon closer inspection, Monica noticed that it was filled with rows upon rows of blood-red words, written in the most fancy curves she had ever seen. The majority of message was understandable, but in some places, the letters seemed to have faded.
The text on the slab said:
"Beware, you who dares to face the Judge himself, for his Judgements are not to be questioned.
BewIIII IIIIIII IIIIho Judge himself deems unworthy, for his IIIIII IIIII Of ReIIIIrse shall deliver the punishment Judge hiIIIIlf considers appropriate.
Beware, IIIIIu who dares to murder the Judge himself, for he shall IIIIIIIIII IIIIIIII IIIIIIIII IIIIIIIIIIIIIII and over again.
Beware, you who wishes to disoIIey the Judgement, for the rebels shall have their IIIIIII snatched away.
The Judge shall gaze IIIIIII IIIIIr life. The Judge shall IIIIII your future. The Judge shall offer you IIIIIIIIInce.
IIIIIIIIIIII, you who wishes to surrender, IIIII the Judgement IIIIII desIIII them.
The Judge shall speak wiIIIII IIIIur sins. III IIIIIIIII shall weigh your motives. The Judge shall show you the path to IIIIIIIse."
The slab was not very heavy. It didn't seem to be a real obstacle - if anything, it was more like a checkpoint rather than some weird puzzle to be solved. It was as if the one who put it there wanted to ensure that Monica wouldn't skip it... Truth be told, the very thought of someone placing this huge slab of wood on the third floor of some abandoned hospital full of candles and monsters seemed... surreal. Who could have done that? What was the point of doing that? Was this all a part of some wicked game? Monica didn't value her life highly, but the amount of effort put into turning this building into a monster infested cave made her head spin.
"I suppose you think you can rule over my life, huh?", Monica said to noone in particular. She spun around the tight stairway, looking for some hidden cameras or microphones or pretty much any other sign of being watched.
"You think you can make me do everything you want?!", she called, louder this time. "You think I enjoy murdering those... those monsters?! You think I'm about to climax now?!"
Just then, a thought appeared in her mind. What if the one who did all this expects me to die? What if he wants to see my sanity crack? What if they chose me because they think I am going to be an easy prey?! With an angry scowl, she kicked the door. "You dare think you can laugh as I get my ass slaughtered?! You dare think I'm going to burst in tears as your demonic pets murder me?!"
She kicked the door once again, tears welling up in her eyes. "You think I am useless! You think I just can be thrown around this shithole like some rag doll! I am not a rag doll! I am not, and I will prove it to you!"
She swung her leg at the door one more time. "I WILL SURVIVE!", she roared and kicked with all her might. Miraculously, the hinges endured. Taking few long, deep breaths to calm herself down, Monica cautiously opened the door and walked through.
... ... ...
The corridor she entered was pretty much of the same sort as the one two floors below; rubbish, fliers, candles, even the cork boards and drawings. Monica carefully stepped out fully on the hallway, scanning the area for any immediate threats. Luckily, there was nothing hiding in the flickering shadows. The girl breathed in a heavy sigh of relief. She closed the door leading back to the smokey stairway and extracted the map from her jeans' pocket.
"Let's see, let's see...", she muttered to herself as she studied the layout for a second. "Store room is... here, and the stairway is..."
Monica nodded in satisfaction. According to the map, the store room was right next to where she was. And, after covering the distance in two steps, it's doors turned out to be slightly opened - a good omen, perhaps?...
Wasting no time, Monica pushed the door open. She found herself in a small, messy room, filled with all sorts of utilities, none of which would make sense in a hospital. There were three, golden candelabras; two king-sized beds; one free standing hat rack; one big, dusted mirror; one incredibly filthy doll house; one ornate wardrobe; two bookshelves; three transparent cannisters filled with amber liquid; one roofless doghouse; and, finally, a big fire extinguisher.
It was worth noting that in the so-called store room there was nothing that the Brookhaven Hospital would ever need. Well, maybe except for the fire extinguisher... the rest of stuff would be more fit in a hotel.
... Well, maybe except for the doghouse.
"Geez," Monica said with a frown. "Suddenly I lost my hope of finding a doorknob in this junkyard." She absent-mindedly waddled her way to the -somehow perfectly lit despite lack of any light source- room and stopped by the mirror. Her frown deepened.
She was looking like a disaster. Her long, brown hair desperately needed some combing, there were bags under her green and lifeless eyes, she had a really grim-looking bruise on her left cheek and her face was coated in soot and dirt. Her grey, dirty blouse now sported a big hole that revealed her right shoulder, and her blue jeans were caked with red and orange stains.
Monica shook her head. Yeah, she looked as if she crawled through post-apocalyptic New York, but considering her situation, she could barely care about that. After all, she had to...
...truth be told, she didn't really know what was she supposed to do. Finding her mother perhaps could make sense, if not for the fact that her mother died in a fire over two years ago... Thinking that she might be alive was just plain stupid - and that meant trying to find her was stupid as well. But somehow Monica knew that there was nothing else she could do - her dead mother was, for better or for worse, her one and only lead in this bizarre mess of a town.
But then again, even if one assumed her mother was alive - despite obviously not being alive - thinking that she could be found somewhere in this ruined hospital was... just wrong. This place was filled with evil - not even her mother would survive in this sort of territory. Not to mention that Monica herself had no real proof that supported her being hidden somewhere in this hospital - the memo she had read back in the examination room could have been outdated or forged, for all she knew!
Monica's grip on her hammer tightened. She was lost, truly and ultimately lost, in this godforsaken shithole, fighting unearthly creatures, with no real purpose, with no real destination, with no hope-
"No," Monica whispered to herself. She raised her head and looked her reflection in the eyes. "What has been started has to be ended. And I for one am curious as to where it ends."
She bent over the grim-coated doll house and peeked inside. Just as she expected, there were no doorknobs. Oh well, she thought. Always worth a shot.
Next, she inspected the beds. She threw the covers on the floor, only to find some sticks and bricks laying on the dirty mattress. Monica threw the pillows on the floor - there was nothing worth mentioning under them. She crouched and cast a quick glance under the beds. All she found was more bricks - someone must have been really scared of monsters lurking under their beds...
Monica looked around the room again. The only thing that could theoretically treasure something worth taking was the wardrobe. She threw the doors open and froze.
The man hiding in the wardrobe shot his tranquillizer gun.
Monica felt her left arm go numb. "Joseph?", she said, feeling her legs shake under her weight. "Why did..."
She fell on the ground with a dull thud. The last thing she noticed before the world turned off were her ex-boyfriends' brown shoes.
