Though her eyes were shut and her head felt as though it were packed in cotton, Jennifer could hear a steady beep-beep-beep to her right. It reminded her of any episode of E.R. ™. She tried to raise her arms, to pull the cotton away from her face and her eyes, but they would go no more than a few inches off the bed she was on. As Jennifer began to panic, the beep-beep-beep of the monitor (if that was what it was) came faster and more high-pitched. Her feet drummed against the bottom of the bed as Jennifer fought her constraints. The straps around her wrists gave away unexpectedly, and Jennifer's hands shot out. She ripped the bandages (bandages?) away from her face and scrubbed furiously at her face. Once her eyes adjusted to the dim light, Jennifer realized that she was, in fact, in a hospital room.

The walls were rusty red and the floor was yellowed and the linoleum peeled away from the walls at the corners. She was alone with the bed, the monitor, an IV, and small dresser. On top of the monitor was a picture; Jennifer picked it up. The young woman in the photo had short, dark hair and a sad, sallow face. The nameplate at the bottom said 'Alessa'. Jennifer frowned. "Alessa? I've heard that name before…but where?" It didn't dawn on her then that Billy had told her a little about an Alessa.

Jennifer swung her legs off the edge of the bed, and stood, still holding the photo. "Alessa, Alessa…how do I know you?" she put the photo back on the monitor; then she screamed. The bed had decayed in only a moment's time. Blood was soaked into it so much that parts of the bed were black. Other parts of the bed were yellow with old dry pus stains. Jennifer fought the urge to vomit, even though she had nothing left to give up. "My god; did they have someone in here? Did they actually use this bed?" She shook her head in disgust and fear. "This is inhumane!" she declared.

Visibly shaken, Jennifer investigated the little shelf dresser. There were a couple of books and a few bottles of pills on it. The books were fairytales. With no real reason other than she could, Jennifer picked up the tattered volume of Grimm's Fairytales. She flipped through it idly, slicing her thumb on one of the pages. A few drops of blood dotted the book; Jennifer stuck the wounded thumb in her mouth. The book in her hand grew hot, and she dropped it with a cry. The book then burst into flames. "What the? Screw this, I'm out of here!" Jennifer ran out of the room.

She found herself in a dark hallway, staring at another door. There were doors up and down the hallway, seeming to stretch for miles. "Where am I? Is this supposed to be a hospital? It's not like any one I've ever been in!" Jennifer's fingers wound themselves into knots as the realization that she stood in a dark hallway in a hellish place with no weapon.

As if to give her insight more weight, a teetering figure limped towards her from the gaping maw of one end of the hallway.

"Hello?" Jennifer called hesitantly as the figure lurched forward. As it neared the light coming from the light over a singular set of stairs in the hall (a light and a staircase Jennifer was entirely grateful for), she could see it wore a nurse's uniform. But under the cardigan…something moved! The hump on the nurse's back moved. The uniform itself was covered in blood, and the thing carried a pipe. "Oh my god…are you…are you okay?" Jennifer asked.

The thing responded by quickening its pace and lifting the pipe high. It brought it down hard and fast, the steel length whistling as it cut through the air. Jennifer danced back with a shouted expletive. She sprinted up the stairs, not looking back though the thing had stopped at the foot of the stairs. She burst through the door at the top of the stairs, and slammed it shut behind her. There was a gurney near it, and Jennifer shoved that in front of the door…just as a precaution.

She leaned against it, chest heaving with exertion. "God all-mighty!" Jennifer sighed, looking around. This floor of the hospital (and it was indeed a hospital; the Red Cross signs were everywhere), was clean and normal looking. Not that normal was a part of Jennifer's vocabulary in this nightmare; but by normal she meant not rusted, bleeding, or trying to kill her.

There was a squawk over her head; Jennifer jumped, expecting one of those bird things that had knocked her off the road to be coming at her. She felt incredibly stupid when she saw the speaker in the corner of the room. A few guitar chords wafted out of the sound system.

"Great. Now I know I'm in Hell; there's Mu-zak." Jennifer sighed. She shook her head and proceeded down the hall to the front desk. Just beyond it was the front doors; she tried them, but they seemed to have been soldered shut. The words from the Mu-zak hadn't really registered with Jennifer as she had been moving, but the double speakers above the door provided excellent sound. The guitar was accompanied by a strange, high-pitched instrument—something that sounded as if a guitar and a violin had mated. Then there was the voice; the words that had gotten her attention and sent fear washing over her all over again.

He…spoke of torture and souls…

So outrageous the toll…

You can lose all you have…

He refused to give in…

To the town that takes…all…

Survive…you must have the will…

This movie doesn't end the way we want…

All the time/ and he shouts at the moon.

She's gone and fear has overcome…

He was walking the Mile/He was walking Alone…

"I don't remember this one on Rick Dee's countdown." Jennifer said dryly. She looked around, and drew in a shuddering breath. The background music sounded like a recording…but the voice didn't. If she was right (and not just crazy like she wanted to figure) that meant there was someone else in this hell hole; someone alive who wasn't rotting or being ridden by quivering humps of slimy pink flesh, or wearing wigs and trying to kill kids, or any other number of horrors Jennifer had yet to encounter. If he was on the intercom, that meant whoever he was was in one of the offices.

Jennifer scaled the counter, knocking the phone over in the process. She righted it out of habit, even though she doubted anyone was going to call her. Once her hands were off the phone, it rang. "What the…?" Hesitantly, and with nausea boiling in the back of her throat, Jennifer picked up the phone. The voice on the other end of the line picked up where the voice over the intercom left off.

"So outrageous the toll

You can lose all you have

He refused to give in

To the town that takes…all…

Survive…you must have the will…

This movie doesn't end the way we want…

All the time and he shouts at the moon

She's gone and fear has overcome

He was walking the mile/He was walking Alone…"

Jennifer let out a shriek of frustration and slammed the phone down. She was angry now, and tired of being screwed with by the world. "I'm coming for you asshole!" she shouted, barreling through the door into the receptionist office. It was empty. She sighed. "Of course nothing's where it should be. That'd make sense and then I wouldn't be in Hell." She shook her head. Jennifer started rifling through the papers on the desk behind the bulletproof glass. There was a memo about selling something called 'White Claudia'. "White Claudia?" Jennifer frowned and continued to read. "Milky white substance…hallucinations…is it an opiate? Who would sell a natural opiate in a hospital?" She frowned. "Signed by Dr. Michael…Kauffman? Kauffman…I should know that name too. What was he peddling here anyway?" She put the memo back on the desk.

Underneath the couch there was a small notebook. "Looks like someone's notes…" she mused, flipping it open to a random page. "September 16th; poor Alessa. Every time I change her bandages the puss and blood just oozing through. I don't know what in God's name is keeping that child alive! And the bugs; they're everywhere. Their jaws clamp huge holes in my skin, but no one else can see them! It's Dr. Kauffman's fault, I know…the rest of the page is just scribbles." She closed the notebook and checked the name on the front. "Lisa…" Jennifer shrugged. "Whatever…this thing is half-blank…it might come in handy." She justified as she put the notebook back in her pocket. The man was still singing over the intercom as Jennifer left the office.

Four and twenty dead birds

They bleed upon the nest

There was no time for reason

They had no sign of a threat

Now it's too late

Too late for me

This town will eventually take me

Too late

Too late for me

This town will…

She crossed the empty hall to go into the office across from the receptionist's office. The placard on the door read 'Michael Kauffman, M.D.' Jennifer took another deep, shuddery breath, steeling herself to go in. She didn't know what she was going to find and she wasn't looking forward to finding anything at all.

The man seated at the desk was young, with messy blonde hair and dull gray eyes. He was wearing priest's robes, complete with collar. His voice was deeper in the small office than it had been over the intercom. He let go off the button on the microphone and turned to her, his lips still moving. The next part of his song, he spoke:

"Through this fog that came along/Dark creatures sing their terrible song/The rest of the bar laughed at him/Only I felt filled with terror/They found him dead the very next day/No more stories from him, though I didn't say/We blamed bad luck for his fate/Only I felt terror so great." The man said; the only animation in his face was the movement of his lips. "There's one more verse Jennifer. Would you like to hear it?" he spoke softly, head cocked inquisitively. His eyes were still dead.

Jennifer stayed in the doorway, wordless. The young man took that as a hint to go on.

She and He will know

That someday

All things will end

That misty night

That dismal moon

The dead search for their kin

While angels sleep

In endless dark

The dead seek out sin

"What do you think Jennifer? Do you understand what I'm telling you?" he reached back and turned the entire intercom system off.

"What's going on? Who are you and how do you know my name?" she demanded.

"You're living their lives, you know." The young man said. He got up, and started to approach her.

"Just stay right where you are; don't come near me!" Jennifer shouted.

"I'm only here to help you Jennifer." The man said softly, reaching into the folds of his robes and pulling out a book. "I have your answers if you want them. But you'll have to find them yourself."

Jennifer threw her hands up in disgust and outrage. "What are you talking about? Nothing here makes sense! I'm so sick of not knowing where I am, and I'm sick of riddles, and I'm sick of things trying to kill me!" Okay…so only three things had tried to kill her; so what? That was three too many.

"You're in the hospital Jennifer. A lot of things have happened in this hospital." The man said.

"To quote a famous t-shirt, shit happens." Jennifer replied snidely.

He shook his head. "You're very impatient Jennifer. That won't do, not in this town. You'll need patience and wit to survive. I figured you knew that." He said sadly.

"This is some kind of coma dream, right? I crashed my car, and I'm in a coma now. Or I'm dead. Either way, none of this is real and nothing here can hurt me." Jennifer turned to walk away.

"Many people who believed that same thing died for it. Others found themselves irreparably harmed." He replied.

"Okay Yoda; enough riddles. I hate riddles." Jennifer said sourly.

"My name is Douglas. All I want to do is help you, but first you have to want to be helped." The man said. He gestured to the loveseat on the wall near the desk he was sitting at. "Sit. Please; this office is safe for the time."

Jennifer snorted, looking left and right at everything except the office and the nutcase that was waiting for her. Movement near the elevators caught her eye. She turned to stare at it.

The elevator doors were opening and closing over and over again. Open/close/open/close; she could see no cab but the lights that indicated what floor it was on kept flashing. "What the…" Jennifer stepped towards the middle of the hallway, mesmerized.

She heard the squeaking of wheels. "Billy?" Jennifer turned around.

A host-less wheelchair came barreling down the hall. Jennifer shrieked once before the wheelchair collided with her shins and knocked her into the seat. The runaway wheelchair veered left and right; it took Jennifer a few dizzying moments to realize she was headed straight for the malfunctioning elevator. She screamed again.

Douglas ran out of the office. "Jennifer!" he cried, running towards her; his robes were cumbersome though, and he was greatly slowed.

The chair reached the elevator before Douglas could reach the chair, and it tipped Jennifer into the waiting elevator. She clung to the ledge with both hands, holding on for dear life. The doors had ceased to open and shut, though it taunted Jennifer by bringing the doors close to her fingers and pulling them away just in time. The chair remained nearby, running over her fingers again and again. She could feel the numb digits giving way under the abuse. "Douglas I'm falling!" she shouted as her left hand slipped away.

Douglas grabbed the chair just as it rolled over Jennifer's right hand. He threw it away from him, sending it careening down the hall past the elevator. He lunged forward, grabbing her hand just as it slid off the ledge. "Help me help you Jennifer!" he shouted, holding her hand with both of his and pulling with all of his might.

Jennifer stretched as far as she could, and got her other hand back on the ledge. Legs kicking against the side wall, Jennifer sought footholds to climb up as Douglas worked feverishly to pull her back up. His hands found her hand, her wrist, her arm, and finally encircled her waist and pulled her the rest of the way up. She fell into him, a surprised gasp escaping her chest.

Douglas was quick to let go. "Forgive my impropriety." He muttered, turning away from her and striding quickly back towards Kauffman's office.

Jennifer jogged to catch up with him. "It's okay; really." She dodged past him and turned back to him, walking backwards down the hall. "Not bad for a priest." She kidded lamely.

Douglas shook his head sadly. "I've more sins to make up for; keeping you from an early grave doesn't even begin to cover them."

"A sinning priest? I'd make a joke, but I doubt the Pope would approve." Jennifer replied, having no strong religious affiliation herself. She preferred to be a live-and-let-live kind of girl…unless it was a bug. Then it had to die.

"Your things are in the office. Go and get them." Douglas replied coolly.

Jennifer turned around again and ran into the office. She found her old backpack and the ax on the other side of the sofa. "Thanks a lot." She said, not turning around as she shrugged back into the backpack.

"The tome with your answers is on the desk." Douglas said.

Jennifer frowned; his voice sounded odd, as though he were trying to speak through an asthma attack. She turned around and found the young blonde man impaled on the tip of a huge blade. Blood spread out in torrents from the wound; when the blade was withdrawn Douglas crumbled to the floor like a paper doll. Jennifer screamed; eyes wide and unbelieving. Dead? He couldn't be dead! She was just talking to him!

The burly man in the wig was the one wielding the knife. "You naughty, naughty girl!" he screamed in falsetto. "Leaving the House and then running off with that harlot career woman! You must be punished! You've become unclean!" With that out of the way, he charged into the room, swinging the monstrous blade over his head.

Jennifer had no time to scream; she could only leap and roll and dodge as the wig-man tried again and again to put her to pieces. She looked around wildly for the door; it was gone! There was no escape from the room! That mean there was only one thing she had to do. "I can't…" She whispered, tripping on the edge of the coffee table and sprawling out on the floor. She sank into the carpet, wet with Douglas' blood. Blinded by blood and tears, Jennifer crawled on soaked hands and knees.

"…the ax…" Douglas wheezed.

"Holy shit you're alive!" Jennifer shouted, staring wildly at the wig-man. He had gotten his monstrous blade stuck in the ceiling of all places, and was having a hell of a time getting it down. It would have been funny if it weren't a life-and-death situation.

"Use…the ax…he is no man…but monster…eater of children's souls…stop him; before he…gets yours…" Blood bubbled up on Douglas' lips. "Stop him…" he pleaded.

The wig-man was still struggling with the blade in the ceiling. Expletives flew from his lips that not even Jennifer had come up with before; her ax was just past him, still at the edge of the sofa. She had maybe a ten-second window before the wig-man decided to kill her bare-handed. Jennifer took a deep breath and darted forward. She just got the ax as the wig-man managed to wriggle the blade free from the ceiling. Taking no time to aim, Jennifer swung blindly and struck the wig-man in the back of his legs. He bellowed and dropped the blade; Jennifer had to tuck her legs up to her knees to avoid losing anything.

The blade of the ax was sharper than it appeared; it had gone threw muscle and bone with no problem. The wig-man toppled forward onto useless stubs before landing on his face. Still alive, his meaty hands flailed wildly, searching for her unwary legs. Choking back tears, Jennifer got up and buried the ax in the middle of his back. With one final yell, the wig-man fell still and silent. She stared at the body for a few moments; she'd never killed anything bigger than a palmetto bug…and this…this used to be human! Then it struck her—"Oh god; Douglas!" Jennifer edge past the wig-man, whose blood spilled out to join Douglas' on the carpet.

Douglas was still wheezing, but something in his eyes had changed. They were alive now; more alive than when Jennifer had first found him. "You need…the blood of…the sacred one. The saint who…will protect…your world…from this…" he coughed, spewing more blood onto Jennifer.

There was so much blood everywhere; Jennifer couldn't believe the human body held so much; even with the wig-man spilling his on the floor, there was so much blood to be seen it was as though the carpet itself were bleeding too!

Douglas grabbed Jennifer's hand, and put it on his stomach. "The blood of the saint…to counter the mark of Samael…" he choked out.

Jennifer snatched her hand away; something on it caught her eye. She stared at the palm, where the light bulb in the attic had burned her. There; in the center…the circle and runes, the pyramid and the eye; the mark that made her head ache so. "Samael…?" she whispered. Even as she spoke, the burn lessened in intensity, until it was nothing more than a series of white lines.

"Inside Jennifer; inside me, inside you. Do it." Douglas hissed. He grabbed her wrist, and thrust her fingers into his wound.

She tried to break away, to pull her fingers out. It was as though she had sunk her fingers deep into a rotting apple pie. Then the tips of her fingers brushed something smooth, and reflexively she took it.

As the bottle came away from him, Douglas smiled. Across his forehead, the numbers '091211' appeared. Then he laid still, eyes glossy and mouth slack.

Jennifer looked at the bottle in her hand. Inside was the same red, shimmering liquid she had seen in the movie. "Aglophotis…" she whispered. Jennifer looked down sadly at Douglas. She closed his eyes with bloodstained hands, and tried to push his mouth shut too; but it wouldn't yield.

She got up slowly, and on shaking knees. The one door out of the room had reappeared, at once reigniting Jennifer's rage. She really was quite tired of being screwed with; shoving the bottle in her hand, to rest beside the book Douglas had offered in the beginning, Jennifer stormed out of the blood-soaked office, wishing for a bathroom and an end to this nightmare…