"The architecture of Trinity Heights follows the Kirkbride Plan, developed in 1854. In this architectural design, a mental institution comprises of one central building connected to two wings on either side, which housed patients. If one were to look upon the exterior of the Graham Building, the central building of the asylum, one might notice the gothic design, complete with arched, stained glass windows and a clock tower. The first floor of the Graham Building served as the administrative building of Trinity Heights. It was complete with four administrative offices, a conference hall, and a waiting room for incoming patients. If one were to open the massive imported oak entrance doors of the Graham Building, one would find themselves in the reception hall, from which he or she would be able to find the aforementioned administrative offices.
The upper floor of the two-storied Graham Building served as a living quarters for residential office members. James Morrow himself commissioned a lavish bedroom to be made for his extended stays at Trinity Heights. The second floor also held a Victorian dining hall, two bathrooms, a small kitchenette, five bedrooms, including Morrow's, and two stairwells, one leading down to the administrative offices, and another leading up into the clock tower.
If one were to glance at the windows of Trinity Heights, he or she might notice that even the stained glass panels of the Graham Building have been reinforced by thick steel rods. James Morrow wanted to be certain that no violent patient could escape from any building, including the Graham Building, and he ensured that every safety measure be in place to prevent any escape attempts. In addition to the barred windows and seven foot tall concrete walls surrounding the entire campus of Trinity Heights, it is rumored that Morrow commissioned tunnels to be built connecting the entirety of the hospital under ground. These tunnels are believed to run underneath the Graham Building, and connect to the St. James Chapel, the nurse housing, the patient dormitories, and the Psychiatric Treatment Center. Although the Graham Building itself also connects to the dormitories aboveground, Morrow would have taken every precaution to protect his doctors and nurses from potentially violent patients by allowing them to travel in the underground tunnels undetected.
Our next location is the Chapel. The last building to be constructed on the Trinity Heights campus, the St. James Chapel was officially opened in 1912, and—"
Caleb slipped off his earphones. The taxi cab had driven over a speed bump way too fast, and as the cab bounced to the ground, Caleb had hit his head on the window next to him.
"Ouch! Would you mind slowing down a little?" He said, rubbing the now tender spot where his head collided with the glass.
"Sorry kid. I'm on a tight schedule," the driver responded in his gruff Bostonian accent.
Caleb considered a witty remark, but he let it go. The man didn't seem to be in much a mood for jokes anyway.
Sighing, he checked the time on his iPad. Seven twenty-nine; the reception dinner was scheduled to start at eight. Or so the cab driver had said. Apparently he had been paid by the hotel to make sure Caleb arrived on time.
"We'll be pullin' up in about five, kid," the cab driver said, almost as if he had read Caleb's mind. The boy pulled down the passenger-side overhead mirror and fixed his hair, raking the tangle of his wavy brown bangs to the left in some form of order. Most of the time Caleb took great care to look good, especially when he was going to meet new people, but after that plane ride, it would take him hours to clean up again. Instead he just resigned himself to however he was going to look when he pulled up to the hotel, hoping his wavy hair would look "hip" and his wrinkled hoodie presentable. He could only hope the hotel was warm enough for him to shed the frumpy outerwear; Caleb had chosen to wear his lucky t-shirt, a blue-grey number of some fancy cotton. With long sleeves which he normally pushed up the the elbows and a tight fit that formed to his body well, the shirt had to be one of the most expensive items of casual-wear he owned.
"Look up there," the cab driver nudged Caleb with his elbow. He leaned down to get a better look out of the grimy windshield. Up through dark tree branches that clawed at the sky like skeletal fingers, illuminated by spotlights, stood the creepiest building Caleb had ever seen in his entire life. One huge mansion topped with a tower dominated most of the view. It looked like some kind of medieval cathedral, large clock and stained glass and all. Flanking and connected to the mansion stood two identical wings, smaller buildings lined with two layers of arched windows and made entirely of a red brown brick, the color of dried blood. The documentary Caleb had watched was right; every single window was covered by what seemed like four bars, thick rods that looked pretty capable of keeping patients inside even if they managed to break a windowpane.
As snow began to fall, sprinkling the windshield with crystalline twinkles of light, Caleb had one thought.
That place didn't look like a hotel at all. It looked like an asylum.
XxXxX
Another little sample chapter to introduce the asylum (and my writing style). I hope you guys are as excited for this story as I am! Now a few things regarding submissions. I want to thank everyone who has submitted so far. I've really enjoyed your characters! I have however received a surprising amount of guys as opposed to girls (and that's a first for me!) So I do need girls as well!
This next note applies to guys and girls. I have received a lot of anti-human or human hating characters, which is fine for the characters I have already received with these traits, but I'm going to need human-like or human-loving characters as well, even though these characters are supernatural in nature.
On a side note, the exterior of Trinity Heights is based on the infamous "Danvers State Hospital", an asylum known for its over-crowding problem.
Thanks again for reading, and please review!