Author's Note: Sorry it's been so long since I've updated. I had do to a lot of planning before I could do this chapter. Hopefully, you'll like it! I'm thinking that I'm going to move this story back into the PG-13 section. The R section is such a hassle. It'd probably make it easier on you all, right?
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It wasn't as bad as he was expecting.
He had never been in an asylum before, but he thought it'd be more like a prison. A prison with rows of cells, tiny little windows, and other creepy things.
Instead, it looked more like a nice hotel. The floor was covered in the fanciest carpet he'd ever seen. Though mostly red, the rug was imprinted with the design of a large phoenix that spread across the main entrance.
The entrance itself was a circular room that split off into different wings, or "exhibits". Five marble pillars lined the walls, in the shape of dragons reaching towards the ceiling. Centered in between each pillar was a unique-looking painting.
'How is this an asylum?' he wondered. Even some of the museums he'd been in didn't look this nice.
Carter must've had a lot of money to put into this. I bet the patients loved it here. I wonder why they closed it down? Lack of funds?
Taking away from the beauty of the room were the large, potted plants that had been spilled. He was brought back to reality, remembering the reason why he came and what he was facing.
"James?" he called loudly. He went silent, carefully listening for a reply. He thought he heard footsteps coming from the east wing.
He started in that direction, briskly walking past a sign. He only caught a glimpse of what was written on it before he passed.
"Please watch your-"
He yelped as he lost his footing. The floor disappeared from under him and he landed flat on his stomach. His head was spinning, and before he could push himself up, he felt a hand on his shoulder.
Instantly thinking it was a zombie, he jerked away. The hand tightened around his shoulder.
"Joseph? Why are you roaming the halls at this hour?" an unfamiliar voice spoke. He stopped struggling and his flashlight illuminated the face of a man he'd never seen before. The man squinted, averting his eyes from the shining light.
"Who are you?" Joseph asked, trying to remember if he'd ever seen this man before. He was tall, had gray hair and a long, white coat…
"Dr. Amherst?" a new voice said. Joseph looked past the doctor to a young woman. She was dressed in the same attire as the man in front of him. A girl patient was clinging to the woman's hand. Her back was hunched in a way that reminded him of Igor, and long, black hair hid her face.
"I found this girl wandering in the cafeteria. It's alright, she didn't hurt anyone," she said. The doctor nodded.
"Okay, that's good. Take her back to her room and lock the door. Make sure she's sedated before you do it."
"Yes, doctor."
Joseph watched the girl as she staggered past. She turned her head at him, and he saw that part of her face was scarred. Without warning, she snarled and lunged at him. He screamed and tried to shove her off. While she ferociously clawed at him, he could hear Dr. Amherst yelling. The woman pinned her down, and a few seconds later she stopped moving. The woman rose, tugging on the hand of the girl. She got back up, her head bowed submissively, and followed her.
"Are you hurt, Joseph?" Dr. Amherst asked. His heart was beating frantically.
"I'm fine," he said, his voice strained.
"I'm so sorry about her. She thinks she's part wild animal. We've had to keep her locked up because she keeps attacking other patients. Of course, you already know that from the last time you met her," the doctor said, smoothing out his coat, "now, let's get you back to your room-"
"What the hell is going on here?!" Joseph yelled. He got to his feet, pulling away from Dr. Amherst.
"There's no reason to be afraid. You were brought here to get better, remember? You're a very sick man-"
"No! No I'm not! I don't know what kind of sick joke this is, but I don't have time for it! Don't you even realize what's happening outside? There are monsters everywhere!"
He was breathing heavily, and he looked at the doctor to see his reaction. The doctor's expression hadn't changed. His face was as serious as ever.
"Joseph, what are you talking about?" he asked.
His voice caught in his throat. It took him a few minutes to speak.
"T…the monsters…don't you see them? It'll only be a matter of time before they get into this museum…"
"This isn't a museum. It's a hospital to help you get better. And there are no such things as monsters."
"I'm not sick…" Joseph said weakly. He felt like crying.
"…Come on. I'll take you back to your room," the man held out his hand. He was tempted to take it. There was safety where the doctor was taking him.
Right?
He reached out his hand, about to let Dr. Amherst lead him. Then he heard footsteps again. Was there a whisper too?
"James?" he called, pulling away from the doctor's grasp. He started towards the sound until he felt Dr. Amherst pull him back.
"There's no one there, Joseph."
He looked at the doctor, then back at the hallway.
"Joseph! RUN!" a voice screamed. He snapped back to reality. His fears, his situation all came rushing back to him. Before the doctor could react, he shoved him against the wall and started running in the direction of the voice. It's help! Someone's trying to help me!
"Stop that man!" Dr. Amherst shrieked.
Further down the hall, a male figure was waiting at the end. He was partially hidden from the shadows that enveloped the hall. His head tilted at the sound of Joseph approaching. He shouted out to him, and the figure moved into his line of sight. He was tall, reddish hair-
"James! Thank god! You have to help m-" he was cut off when something hard hit his back, sending him to the ground. Muscular arms pinned him down as he struggled to get up. He felt something tug at his waist, and he realized they were disarming him of his only gun. He looked at James for help, but he didn't move.
"What are you doing?! Don't just stand there! Help me!"
He turned and opened the nearest door, ignoring Joseph's pleas.
"James, do something! Don't let them take me!"
Something pricked his neck, and his vision blurred as he helplessly watched James walk through the exit.
"James…help…" Joseph whimpered, right before everything faded to black.
--
Light.
His eyes slowly opened to the shining, crescent moon that hung right above the window he was facing. He was stretched out on a very uncomfortable bed with his flashlight brushing up against his arm. There was no blanket or pillow, just a firm, bumpy mattress that smelled like mildew. The room he was in was dark, cold, and nearly empty with the exception of the collage of pictures on the wall opposite of him.
He felt nauseated as he sat up, shaking off the weariness that came from the sedatives they injected him with. It was dead silent, making him wonder how long he'd slept.
It couldn't have been real, could it? Maybe I was wandering the halls and fell asleep. I could have dreamed it all up! Yeah, that has to be it. There hasn't been any patients or doctors in here for years. It's just an old museum now.
He looked at the collage. Some of the pictures had been clipped out of newspapers and magazines, others had been poorly drawn by hand. They were all pictures of dogs, puppies especially.
"Weird," he muttered aloud. He remembered when he was a young boy his family had gotten a puppy. They had to get rid of it a few days later when they found out he was allergic to dogs. His younger sister had been so upset with him that she didn't talk to him for a couple of days.
A beeping sound drew his attention away from the pictures, and he found himself looking at a camera. It was hooked up to the ceiling right from where his bed was. He hadn't noticed it when he woke up. Had it always been there?
Is it watching me? No, it couldn't be…
A soft shuffle of footsteps echoed outside his room. He froze, immediately fearing it was a zombie-or worse.
They grew louder and quicker as it drew close. He couldn't hear a moan from it, instead it sounded like it was mumbling. He snatched his flashlight off the bed and edged closer to the door, which surprisingly was unlocked. The doctor must have-no, he wasn't real.
He opened the door just a crack, to get a better look. Instinctively, he reached for his gun only to remember that it was taken from him. He turned the flashlight on and shined it into the corridor.
A sharp gasp came from his throat as he witnessed the grotesque sight in front of him. It reminded him of a zombie, only this "zombie" was standing upright like a normal human. The only difference was that nearly its entire face was torn off, save for its mouth and ears. It had no eyes, it didn't even have eye sockets. Most of its head was just composed of pulsing, wet meat.
It turned its head when it realized someone else was there. If it had eyes, Joseph swore it would be looking right at him. It remained perfectly still, then the mouth suddenly curved down in a scowl.
"Hey, didn't anyone ever tell you it's impolite to stare?!" the mouth snapped. The voice coming from it was high and scratchy. It took his mind a few minutes to register that this horrible thing was speaking to him.
"What? Do you have some kind of problem with people that don't have faces?" it snapped again. It walked towards him.
"S-stay away from me!" he cried, shrinking back into his room. This has to be a dream!
"Stay away from you? You narrow-minded bastards aren't even worth my time. Do you know what did this to me?"
He didn't answer.
"Well, do you?!" the thing shrieked in a frightening tone, its mouth opening far wider than any human's could go. It broke into a run straight towards Joseph. Before it reached him, he backed further into his room and slammed the door close. The faceless creature clawed madly at his door. He pressed his whole weight into it, firmly holding it in place. It finally gave up.
"I USED TO HAVE A FACE, BUT IT GOBBLED IT UP!" it screamed. Its footsteps faded down the hall, but he could still hear it throwing a tantrum. After it became quiet again, he slowly opened the door.
The coast was clear. He slipped out of his room and into the hall. He glanced left and right, just to make sure there weren't anymore monsters.
"W-what the hell was that?" he mumbled to himself, shaking a little.
A sign was posted near his room.
"These were the rooms where male patients were kept. Patients were studied twenty-four hours a day by cameras placed in their rooms. Since the cameras weren't hidden, it disturbed some of the patients living here. These cameras were called the eyes of the building."
He shuddered, unable to imagine constantly being watched. Just seeing that camera in his room was enough to give him chills.
He continued on his way, figuring there had to be an exit close by. If he was lucky, he might run into James again. Then I could blow his head off for leaving me to those doctors. He smiled at the sick image. It served him right for leaving him.
He pushed the door open.
His train of thought left him to take in his new surroundings. Chairs lined up neatly against the cracked, yellowish-white walls. A large window was stretched across the western side of the room, reaching all the way down to the soft, maroon-colored carpet. He thought he saw dark shapes moving across the window, but nothing was there when he shined his flashlight.
A sign was posted next to him, right under one of the many television sets that were hooked into the wall.
"The dayroom is where patients could come and enjoy themselves. Due to problems of overcrowding, several hallways were built so that everyone had convenient access to these rooms. Along with the dayroom, the patients could also visit the painting room and library."
Something hissed from somewhere in the room. He jerked around quickly, searching for the source of the noise. The flashlight shook in his hands.
"Jo…sph…" He jumped, and for a brief moment he saw white static on the television. In the center of the static was a still, dark shape. He couldn't make out who or what it was.
"Downstairs…" the static blocked out the next few words, "…child room…save…she's…"
The television shut off. He watched it closely, waiting to see if it'd come back on again. The only sound accompanying him was his deep, ragged breathing.
Save…? Save whom?
He walked to the other side of the room, into another corridor. More rooms were set up parallel to each other on each side of the hall. They resembled the prison cells that he imagined an asylum would have.
"I've got to get out of here," he said to himself. He reached over to the closest door and pushed it open.
He found a staircase and an elevator. He stepped back, feeling a pang of fear towards the rusty-looking doors of the elevator.
I'll just use the stairs.
The stairs weren't anymore appealing. Water leaked from the ceiling, dripping all over the staircase. Something else also stained the stairway, something reddish-brown. He didn't focus on it too much, instead directing his flashlight to the bottom of the stairs. From what he could see, there was a single wheelchair propped up in the corner.
He clung to the rail, feeling the crusty metal under his hand. He cautiously stepped down, feeling sick every time his foot would slip a little in the small pools of water.
He was almost to the bottom, hanging onto the unsanitary rail for safety. The stairway trembled under him, as if it had come alive with his presence. The trembling came in a strong, steady pattern, like a heartbeat. He paused and waited uneasily until it stopped.
A loud screech came from the ceiling. He pointed his flashlight above him and choked back a horrified cry at what he saw. A terrifying, disfigured monster hung above him. Its body, beast-like in shape, was stripped of its skin. Its bulky arms were holding the creature upside-down with its large claws digging into ceiling. An abnormally long neck extended from its torso, and its face was too marred to distinguish if it had ever been human.
It twisted its neck around to see what kind of intruder was disturbing it. He felt frozen as the beast convulsed and jerked violently. It lashed out its neck at him and he lost his footing. His fingers slipped away from the railing and he fell. He cried out as his head cracked against the cement and he felt his body knock over the wheelchair. The creature dropped down while he was recovering from his fall.
Knowing he was in danger, he struggled to get back up. It quickly made its way down the staircase, moving at an inhuman speed. He lunged for the door, the metal slamming against the rough plaster of the wall. The creature snaked out its head just as he tried to slam the door close. He tried pulling it shut with all his strength while the creature screamed and withered in pain.
With a bone-crunching snap, the door came all the way closed. Blood splashed the front and back of the door as the decapitated head of the monster hit the ground with a sickening thump. His heart was beating frantically, his palms were sweating, and the front of his shirt had been sprayed with blood.
When he realized it was dead, he finally let go of the door. He turned, searching the room for any other threat.
It struck him then why the hallway looked oddly familiar.
He was back on the first floor. The place where the doctors had knocked him out and where James had left him behind.
He heard a child's soft cry from somewhere far away.
Get going, his mind told him. He glanced back to where the head of the monster had fallen, only to find it missing. He looked wearily at the empty spot before heading in the direction of the cry.
