Later, after Andrew had driven them home, Danny sat with Jazz at the kitchen table, dutifully chopping carrots. "I'm not going to lie," Dora said, draining a bowl full of stringy pasta. "you had me worried sick." Danny still felt extremely guilty - he hadn't even tried to take her feelings into account when he set off for North Mercy. "Next time you go for a walk, just leave me a note. I don't want you to think I'm holding you captive." She laughed slightly, but Danny could her skepticism. She definitely hadn't bought Andrew's story that they were surveying the trails behind his house and that Danny had tripped on a log.
"We're sorry." Jazz apologized. She was sitting across the table from Danny, peeling celery. "I don't know what we were thinking." She glared at her brother.
After dinner and some down time, once Aunt Dora had said goodnight, Danny lay down on his bed with his borrowed satchel. The dead flashlight and camera were still in there, along with the other items he'd packed.
Jazz opened the door, peering in at him.
"What's up?" Danny asked, trying to sound light and cheerful.
"Just checking on you."
I'm fine."
Jazz nodded slowly and entered anyway. She sat on the edge of his bed, looking between his face and his leg as if she wanted to say something. Finally, she managed, "I was really scared today, Danny."
He'd felt the same way, but refused to admit it.
"And I'm not just talking about your leg." She continued. "There was something weird about that place...I can't explain." Of course, Jazz would never talk about ghosts openly. She'd always thought that their parents' obsession was insane, but she didn't dare say a word after Jack died.
Danny felt his stomach clench. And though he didn't want to bring it up, he had to ask her something. "Why'd you go into Room 16, anyway?"
Jazz looked down. "That's the thing...I don't really know. Once I saw the room, I felt like I had to go in there - as if it'd been my destination all along. And as soon as I did, there was someone else, talking to me. And then you came in and it got all weird."
Danny shivered. "That's totally not what I thought you'd say. You've always been more like Dora, you don't believe in...stuff like this."
"But you felt it too, right?" Jazz's voice went up about an octave.
"Maybe." Danny ran a hand through his hair. "Are you sure you didn't slam that door on us?" He raised an eyebrow.
"I think I'd remember if I did that." Jazz snapped.
Danny wasn't satisfied, but he knew better than to push his sister more.
Jazz finally noticed the satchel lying beside her. "I'll get some new batteries for your camera tomorrow. Maybe it saw something we didn't."
"That's it!" Danny sat up abruptly.
Jazz stepped away, as if he might explode. "What?"
"The flashlight. The camera. When we were in Room 16, the batteries died almost instantly."
"And...?" As smart as Jazz was, she was brain-dead when it came to ghosts. No pun intended.
"Something was trying to manifest. A spirit doesn't have its own energy, so it needs energy from other places in order to do things."
"So you're saying we saw a ghost?" Jazz crossed her arms. "And that it somehow drained the batteries? To do what?"
"Show herself." Danny couldn't help but smirk when he saw his sister's expression. He knew she was freaking out, especially since she wasn't talking about freaking out.
"That's an interesting theory." Jazz said in a measured voice. Yup. Totally freaking out. "I'm tired, Danny. We'll replace those batteries tomorrow."
Jazz closed the door, leaving Danny alone. He slipped under the covers, wondering about how his mom was doing. Then he decided he didn't really want to think that, and let his mind wander to the ghost. Why would Nurse Penelope want to show herself to him? Would the asylum in the woods be a new kinda of jideaway from his troubles? Or was it a trap, pinning him back to his shadow self?
Was it worth it to learn the answer?
That night, Danny dreamed of the hospital.
He was in the back of a van. He couldn't move. Glancing down at his body, he realized he was strapped to a wheelchair. When the vehicle abruptly stopped, someone pushed him through the back door, down a wooden ramp to a paved road in the middle of the dense woods. He tried to turn his head, but his spine was locked down too. Forced to face forward, he was on the path towards a very familiar island.
The concrete bridge was in perfect shape. Crossing the water, Danny noticed that it was clear. The healthy reeds flourished.
Ahead, North Mercy waited with a blank expression. If places could think, the hospital thought about nothing. Danny was just another patient, another meal waiting to be swallowed.
He was inside. Tiled walls rushed by. Fast, then faster, until the journey was indistinguishable from a roller-coaster ride. Danny wanted to scream, but he realized his mouth was clamped shut, leather strips wrapping around it.
The chair finally came to a stop in front of a closed door. From inside the room, he could hear someone crying. Weeping. He squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to see who was in there. But someone pushed the chair into the room, then slammed the door shut.
The lighting was dim at best. The walls, ceiling, and the floor were all padded, once white. He noticed the walls had long scrapes were patients had clawed at the walls, just like Sam said. Maroon streaks painted the edges of the gouged fabric. He imagined broken fingernails, dried blood that nobody had bothered to clean up. Then, from a shadowy corner, something moved. A voice cried out. A sob of misery. Hopelessness.
The light shifted. Someone was sitting in the darkness, a mess of a woman. Huddled, head down, dressed in white. A coat with abnormally long sleeves pinned her arms to her torso. Stringy auburn hair covered her face. He shoulders were shuddering.
Danny whimpered, and the person froze, just noticing his arrival. The figure raised her head, peering from behind a curtain of tangled hair. She crawled forward, gasping, all the way to his wheelchair, until she had gotten up, nearly pressing Danny into his seat.
With the figure directly before him, the boy expected it to smell of rot, filth, stale breath. Instead, he was met with an normally soothing smell, but it seemed wrong in this place.
His mother's perfume.
Danny's breath hitched in his throat as nausea washed over his entire body.
The woman shook her hair from her face. Though her eyes were puffy and red, he could still recognize them.
"Danny, honey. You've got to get us out of here." Maddie's voice was pleading.
How?
As if to answer him, she opened her mouth. A purple tongue lolled out, dripping with black liquid. This was no longer his mother.
She leaned in, as if to kiss him, but at the last second her cracked lips parted, showing off a cluster of long, sharp, teeth. The brightest thing in the darkness.
Danny awoke with a start, not recognizing the room he was in, his brain muddled. A moment later, he clicked everything into place again. He was at Aunt Dora's house. Nothing to worry about. He'd just had a bad dream.
He froze, suddenly aware thata he wasn't alone.
Someone was crying. In his room. The faint sound seemed to have followed him out of his dream. But he wasn't dreaming anymore. In the darkness, he could make out a slumped figure sitting at the edge of his bed. She wore a black nightgown. Her long brown hair was in a ponytail, but many strands had fallen loose, covering her face.
"Jazz," Danny was confused, mixed with his doziness. "what's wrong?"
She flinched at the sound of his voice, turning to look at him. Even in the dark, her gaze felt like it was staring through his soul.
But before Danny could say anything else, she was gone.
Danny threw back his sheets and got up, wanting to go check on his sister. But his bare feet slid on a slick patch of floor. "What...?" It was a pool of tears. Had Jazz really been crying that long? Was it even possible? Danny bent down, feeling around. It was definitely water.
Danny found his way to the hall. He knocked on his sister's door, but there was no answer. He turned the knob, cautiously stepping in. "Jazz," He whispered.
Said girl was sprawled across the mattress, her sheets tangled together. She lifted her head from the pillow. "Danny?" Her voice was groggy. "What are you doing?"
Danny felt a chill. "I just wanted to see if you were okay."
"I was sleeping." Jazz's voice was flat, obviously not wanting to have a conversation at the moment.
"Sleepwalking?"
Jazz propped herself up on her elbows, reaching over to turn on her lamp. "I don't think so."
"You were sitting on the edge of my bed. You were crying so hard the floor was wet."
"And you were dreaming."
"I swear, I wasn't! I'd bet-"
But then Danny noticed something odd. Jazz was in a tank top and gym shorts. Not a nightgown.
"You'd bet...?"
Danny was about to say life, but he was glad he didn't. It was a bet he would've lost. He shuffled his feet around the floor, until his toes turned cold. "Jazz, there's water on your floor too."
"You aren't messing with me, are you?" But she leaned down anyway, slightly gasping when she realized her brother was right.
"No. She was here too."
"Who?"
Danny had a pretty good idea.
Nurse Penelope.
I am soooo sorry for not updating sooner. Believe me, I was trying! I've just been trying to catch up on my schoolwork. That, and I've been writing other stuff ahah. Sorry to say, but I don't really think I'll be on schedule now. I'll try to update at least once a week though. Oh, and regarding the story itself, I forgot to mention that Danny isn't a halfa, if you haven't already figured out. Anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter! c:
