Halloween Story 2009 - the story

[Moderator]

The much anticipated SKMB Halloween 2009 fan-story collaboration will begin posting on Monday, October 5th, with a new addition each weekday. This will be the spot for the story and I will also be opening a thread for comments. Please be sure to post those in that thread so that the story will be able to be read without comment interruption.

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Installment #1 by DarkWriter





Straightening her new nurses uniform as she looked at her reflection in the
double doors, Karen entered the Marysville Institution for the Criminally Insane.
Even though the hospital had been modernized and remodeled the outwardly
appearance had not changed over the years. She was looking forward to her first
day on the job, even though her boyfriend Kyle had spent the last week trying to
talk her out of it.

"You've heard the stories," he said, attempting one last time to discourage her.
"Terrible things happen there and I don't want them happening to you. It's bad
enough all of your patients are criminals."

"I'll be fine," she said, walking out the door. "Nothing's going to happen." Of
course, she had heard the stories, the mysterious deaths and disappearances, the
murders and suicides. She remembered hearing her parents talk when she was
younger; about a woman that had committed suicide after her ten-year-old son
disappeared from the hospital. According to her father, the young boy had been
playing in the common room, the same room in which two weeks later they found his
mother hanging. Her uncle believed the land had been cursed. However, her aunt
disagreed; the curse lay behind the locked door of the old common room.And she
should know she worked there, up until they sold it to the state. No one she
knew ever went in there, but she heard stories.

Built in 1889 the hospital functioned as most did in that era, the best they
could. There were discoveries being made in the medical field, unfortunately the
equipment and knowledge were earmarked for the large city hospitals. Eventually
it would trickle down, if the funds were there to pay for them. After a meeting
of the Marysville board, they decided to turn one floor of the hospital into a
mental ward for the state in order to procure the money needed. Providing care
for the mentally ill put before them a new set of problems, fortunately none that
could not be overcome. Until they admitted Jacob Miller, he was crazy with a
mean streak and an addiction to Laudanum and alcohol. Two days after they
secured him in his room, Jacob broke free. Using whatever sharp tools he could
find, he cut and slashed his way through the halls leaving a trail of blood, as
screams and moans filled the air.

By the time the sheriff responded with his deputies, the patients and staff lay
dead or dying. They found Jacob in the common room splattered with blood,
standing over three slaughtered nurses. There was to be no trial and no jury,
just an execution by firing squad, with seven of the eight shotguns present
making their mark. When the smoke cleared and their ears stopped ringing, the
men looked down upon the bloody pulp that had once been Jacob Miller.

Yes, Karen knew the stories but she did not have the luxury to pass on a job that
would pay off her school loans.

[Moderator]

Installment #2 by staropeace





As she walked from the entrance door to the visitors desk and staff offices, Karen noticed the early morning stillness of the place. The day outside was overcast with the promise of rain and the grey dullness tinted all the windows like a pox.

All was quiet and her footsteps appeared muffled as she headed towards the office of the head nurse. A security guard sat benignly in a chair to the right of the service desk whispering to the receptionist and paging through a Readers Digest.

Karen approached them solemnly, like a monk going to vespers. She smiled and addressed the tall matronly lady who sat behind the counter.

"Hello, my name is Karen?"

Inwardly, she cringed for making her short statement into a question. Why didn’t she just write introverted doormat on her back and be done with the whole thing. Maybe get a job at Boxie Bubbles down the street and sell smoothies instead.

The lady gazed up from her keyboard and smiled at Karen with a warmness that melted all the tension away and seemed to brighten the drabness like a splash of sunshine.

"Karen Chartrand, is it? The new staff member, I do believe. Your mom lived right up the street from me and I remember you as a young whippersnapper, You liked to steal my crabapples." She laughed at Karen's confused expression while grasping her hand and squeezing it .

"Welcome to our happy home. Our friendly sanitarium. Every family should have one, "she said to Karen and winked.

"On my gosh! You are Ms Sally. I remember now though it has been ages since we lived on Barr Road!" Karen said as the built up tension of first day jitters left her body and hid in some corner with the shadows.

The lady waved a hand majestically around the main lobby and Karen noticed, for the first time, the richness of the hard walnut paneled walls and the honeyed texture of the hardwood floor. Here and there an alcove was converted into intimate resting nooks with easy chairs and end tables. Slightly faded area rugs buffered any starkness and added warmth.

"It is a little cold and uninviting this early in the morning, Karen. That is just the way with old huge buildings though. It is quiet cozy once the lights are no longer muted" She informed her as she picked up her phone and pressed an extension. "Angela, the head nurse came on duty a ‘lil while ago. I will tell her you are here and she will come out to fetch you. She is a lovely girl," Sally informed her.

[Moderator]

Installment #3 by kisun

The headache began when they got to the third floor.

Karen was following Angela, who led her through the hospital, acknowledging the important aspects of working at this particular hospital on the way.
"Don’t forget that you’re workin' with psychos and lunatics. They ain't normal, and we don’t treat 'em normal. Don’t go forgetting that now, you hear?"
"Yes ma’am," Karen said. She didn’t know why she called Angela ma’am; she could not be much older than herself. In fact, Angela didn’t look a day over fifteen. Karen scurried the thought from her mind, not wanting to worry about little oddities in such a strange setting.

Karen was looking at the doors on her left as Angela walked and talked about how you aren't supposed to give silverware to the patients. They passed room 312, room 314 (in which she heard crying), but where room 316 should be there were bricks. Fat, grey bricks sealed together which covered the entire door. They looked old; Karen thought they could even be described as ancient. She stopped and stared at the bricks for a few moments. She then picked up the pace to catch up with Angela, who was still chatting away. As she moved her legs in an erratic and anxious rhythm she started to hear a very faint whine. It grew and grew in intensity. Permeating the air like a toxin, it attacked Karen’s ears. She looked to her left and saw room 318.

Karen could hear cries and whimpers through the door, and with this new series of noises she could no longer hear the abusive ringing. The vocalization of despair she heard was interrupted when Angela yelled at her. “Get away from that door!”
Karen was unresponsive. Angela rushed over to her and pulled her away from the door. Karen hadn’t even noticed that she had walked right up to the door and put her hand on numbers in the middle. When she looked away from the door, Angela saw that her eyes were transfixed and dilated.
Not another one, Angela thought. But almost instantly after she thought this Karen shook her head and her eyes cleared. Thank God, I can’t deal with another person’s sanity on my hands, Angela thought with a sigh of relief.
Angela grabbed Karen’s arm and led her down the hall. As they passed room 320, Karen saw that this door too was bricked off. She dismissed this occurrence from her mind in favor of another, Boy, do I need a cigarette. She hadn’t smoked since her last college party, but now a good drag seemed like the perfect treat. Angela led her down the stairs, seeing as how the elevators were broken.

“Did you give anybody the passwords to this hospital’s computer system, Karen?” the receptionist asked when Karen and Angela arrived.
“No, why?”
“Well, you have a message, and it’s a closed network.”
“Oh, well…what’s it say?”
“See for yourself,” the receptionist said.
Karen looked at the monitor, and opened the message. The message read; “Karen, how ready are you to die?"

Yeah, a cigarette sounded pretty good right now.

[Moderator]

Installment #4 by Matt

Karen followed Angela as she stepped out into a concrete alcove that served as some kind of delivery entrance for the Institution. Stark gray stairs rose in front of her to ground level and fresh air, the odor in the small space reminded her of rotten bananas and what she had always thought madness would smell like. The floor on the landing featured a dirty drain in its center; she could hear thick gurgling deep inside.

The message at the receptionist station had scared her until she realized that people who work in an insane asylum are probably a little crazy themselves. A cute prank to pull on the new girl…she hoped that she had not given them the satisfaction of scaring her.

“If you are going to smoke, you have to do it here.” Angela said as she climbed the first few steps blocking Karen’s only view of a world without the smell of things rotting. “State Law says you can’t even do it here but people sneak them anyway”.

Karen noticed a bit of annoyance in Angela’s voice but could not understand its source. She rummaged in her purse for the crushed pack of lights she always kept at the bottom. Her need to drag it out had diminished over the last few months but days like today always had a way of bringing it back.

“Would you like one?” Karen asked Angela holding one of the last two bent smokes out to her. Angela made a face and stepped back.

“God no! I don’t smoke those things, might as well just put a gun in my mouth. I only came out here because you mentioned you wanted one.” Just as she finished talking, Angela reached into the pocket of her dress and produced a pouch. She opened it swiftly and drew out what looked to Karen like a half a plantation of tobacco. Angela sniffed at it for just a moment and then tucked the wad between her cheek and gum. It was just a few moments before Angela was spitting brown liquid into the drain at Karen’s feet, she tried not to vomit.

Instead, Karen occupied her mind thinking about the screams she heard behind the door to room 318. Simple echoes, that’s all it was. Old house echoes.

Just then she realized Angela was staring at her.

“You heard exactly what you think you did and my best advice would be to stay away from that door. I mean, as long as you want to keep your marbles that is. It is kind of like a Pandora ’s Box, which is why your ‘Ms. Sally’ didn’t warn, you. She always assumes people will ignore it but that hasn’t changed the fact that 3 out of 5 people who start working here end up as patients.”

“That is impossible!” Karen said a bit to loudly in the enclosed space. She had not overlooked the way Angela had said ‘Ms. Sally’, the dripping sarcasm was very close to outright contempt.

[Moderator]

Installment #5-by sam peebles

Karen pitched her half-finished cigarette down the drain. It had been stale and left a bitter aftertaste on her tongue, not nearly as pleasurable or calming as she remembered it being. Her headache was worse. She wanted to spit, but didn't dare on her first day with Angela hovering next to her.

Angela shot a stream of brown chew from between her teeth with practiced ease.

"Shall we continue the tour?" she asked.

Karen followed her back inside, through a door and into a stairwell. They descended three flights and exited into a dimly lit corridor.

"Marysville Institution has been made more contemporary," Angela droned as she started down the hallway, "but this floor has, remarkably, been left almost completely untouched. Sure, there's been electricians-" she pointed to a recessed outlet in the ceiling that housed a naked light bulb "-and other renovations, but this here is as original as the facility gets. Same floor, same woodwork, same instruments as the when we first opened our doors."

Karen was barely listening. She was trying to do the math in her head. They had gone down three levels. That placed them (if she was correct) below the basement.

Underground.

"Where are we?" Karen asked.

"In the sub basement. Kind of creepy, isn't it? There are miles of tunnels down here, leading across the grounds to the minimum security houses--those are closed now."

"What's here?" Karen said, nodding to the doors that lined the hall.

A smile, sharp enough to cut class, stitched itself on Angela's narrow face.

"Treatment rooms."

Angela fished in her pockets and produced a gigantic key ring like some castle dungeon master. She selected one of the ancient brass keys and fitted it in the lock of the closest door.

How does she know if it's the right one? Karen wondered. They're not even labeled.

The door swung open, rusted hinges squealing, motes of dust stirred up by the draft. Karen had the strange sensation she had been here before. She expected a blank wall of brick and mortar, like room 316, or a giant computer screen, pulsating and glaringly bright in the dank sub basement, pushing out
through the jamb and predicting her death in three foot font.

The room beyond was pitch black. Angela flicked the switch. No light turned on.

"What's in there?" Karen whispered. She realized she had been holding her breath and let it out in a shaky exhale.

"Lobotomy Theater."

[Moderator]

Installment #6-PatriciaA

Angela Tak RN, jiggled the switch until the fluorescent bulb sizzled to life. She stepped over to a tray on the stainless steel counter. "These," Angela gestured doing her best Vanna White impression, "are the lobotomy instruments. Too bad they stopped doing the procedure back in the '70's and picked up an instrument that looked like an ice pick.

"One poke, a tap and a wiggle into each of the eye sockets and within 10 minutes, presto change-o, come in a lion and leave a lamb."
Angela placed the pick back onto the tray and selected a small mallet, and to Karen's utter astonishment began to sing, "Bang, bang Maxwell's silver hammer."

Karen interrupted her, standing akimbo and sounding as frustrated as she was. "Stop, I know everything about lobotomy I want to. I hope you're trying to be funny, or trying scare me, because you can't be serious?"

Angela feigned looking hurt then continued to sing, "Came down upon her head" and put the instrument back with great care.
She took a moment to admire the atmosphere of the room then said in an impatient tone,
"Oh come on Florence Nightingale, lighten up, will you?" She gestured toward the the door and they left. Karen hadn't replied, but led the way out without hesitation.

"Tour's over for today" Angela stated as they headed back up the hall. "You're not a team player are you Karen? I get that from you. You'll either play nice or you'll go home with no job, and that's not zesty."

"God I can't get fired on my first day" Karen silently scolded herself, and she couldn't quit now, not yet, no matter how bad she wanted to.
She'd start looking for something else right away, she wasn't going to stick around here any longer than she had to.

"A nurse graduating with honors from Miskotonic U could work anywhere in the universe," she told herself.

She was going to call The Client's Rights Commission before it was over with as well. She could only imagine all the abuses that must go on here with people like Angela in charge.
A tiny voice from somewhere in her head whispered "unspeakable."
A shiver crept up her spine.

Karen mustered a contrite smile, " I've got a nasty case of first day jitters Angela. This place makes me jumpy, sorry. I'll relax, promise."
"Pinky swear?" Angela replied, rolled her eyes and took the lead back up the hallway.

Karen had an hour for lunch soon, and knew what she'd do with it. First some aspirin for the headache, second she'd shake these willies so she could think straight.
Then she'd figure out how to get into room 318.

The boiled eggs she brought for lunch seemed particularly unappetizing. She brought a dozen to share with her fellow travelers at the noon twelve-step meeting she'd planned to attend, she was looking forward to telling everyone about her new job, and confessing to the back-slid cigarette, but plans change.

She fondled the newly issued set of keys in her sweater pocket and concentrated on room 318.

[Moderator]

Installment #7-aptpupil

The underground corridor possessed some very strange acoustics. Karen found herself out of step with the woman walking ahead of her, and the two distinct sets of footsteps echoed eerily from the walls of the antiquated structure, bouncing back at her as if performing a demonic fugue. She adjusted her stride, synchronizing it with that of her tormentor, and anxiously stared into the distance, eagerly anticipating the approaching stairwell. She felt desperate to put her first trip to the sub-basement far behind her.

Despite her distaste for her surroundings, however, Karen was powerless to resist the urge to spin around and take one last look as the long, straight corridor finally came to an end. Initially, she blamed the inadequate lighting for the strange mixture of brightness and shadow that assaulted her eyes, but it didn’t take her long to recall that the entire length of the corridor had been uniformly lit when she had first entered it. She tried to focus on an ill-defined section in the distance, which appeared to be mist-shrouded. She strained her eyes to gain a clear image, and recoiled in terror as two figures, ostensibly human in form, and one significantly larger than the other, shuffled from one wall across to the other, seeming to vanish into the ether.

Karen’s knees buckled in trepidation, and she reached out with her left hand, pressing it against the cold, damp wall, as her whole panorama spun vertiginously. In disbelief, she watched as the sides of the corridor began to pulse, as if powered by some malevolent satanic heartbeat. She closed her eyes tightly, simultaneously urging herself to remain calm, then nervously opened them again to find that everything had returned to its original, more palatable, appearance. She sought reassurance from her companion.

“Angela,” she enquired tentatively, “I would guess that a place like this could play some pretty frightening tricks on your mind, huh?”

The question was met with an ominous silence. She slowly turned around to where she hoped Angela Tak would be standing, but before her eyes were even able to confirm the truth, her mind had anticipated the correct answer. Karen Chartrand was completely and utterly alone, and at the mercy of whatever dark forces roamed the musty corridors within which she now found herself stranded. Common sense, and every ounce of self-preservation in her body, implored her to move straight to the stairwell, and to climb those steps as quickly as was humanly possible, without even contemplating a second glance. Something more sinister and insidious, however, compelled her to stay.

Karen inhaled deeply, steadied herself, and inched back along the corridor to where she had seen the two figures a few moments earlier. She arrived there to find an inexplicable chill in the air, and noticed an old, heavy door, recessed so deeply within the wall, that it would have been easy to miss. Its wooden veneer was covered in a layer of condensation. Karen placed the palm of her left hand against the door and rubbed, observing with growing dread as the number 318 was revealed…

[Moderator]

Installment #8-Cola

‘You left her down there didn’t you?’

‘So what if I did? She’s a newbie, needs to be shown the ugly truth of what this place is’

Sally Barchiel had walked to the water cooler to confront Angela as she came down the small corridor and into the office at the rear of the foyer.

‘You forget who she is Angela, no common slip of a girl from the street this one – you must be careful’

The room temperature slipped down a few notches. Angela’s lips pealed back from her teeth and for a moment the beautiful youthful features on her face shimmered, mottled grey patches visible under her transparent skin. ‘Don’t warn me Ms Sally’ she hissed. ‘All I did was leave her down there, if she is as unique as you say then she will have no problem working her way back’ Sally was only peripherally aware of Angela’s tirade, being preoccupied instead with Karen’s well being; until a small strong hand grabbed her arm and pushed her against the wall. She laughed, a beautiful light, feathery sound. ‘You don’t scare me, no matter how much you want to - now release me’

Unable to do anything else Angela let go and stalked around the room trying to get her boiling, blinding rage under control.

Who was this girl? From whom did she come from and more importantly why was Sally so invested in her? She couldn’t change things around here!! No one could – that’s right no one could - many had tried and many, many had failed. Miss Chartrand would soon be joining this number! No one can change what has been for so, so long….

It was an old mantra, as close to meditation as Angela could get and it calmed her visibly. She was once again the beautiful, flawless youth that met Karen that morning. She turned to face Sally; maybe to gloat and tease her some more only to see her adversary had left the office. Angela walked out into the reception area and saw only Louise. A slim shouldered pretty girl, she had been working here for 15 years or more. A reliable worker - one who knows when to keep her pert mouth shut anyway.

‘Oh! Ms Tak? Karen Chartrand, the new girl? Her boyfriend Kyle phoned – wanted to know if she could ring him back seemed kinda urgent’

‘Did he indeed? Well, I will be sure to pass that message on as soon as I catch up with her. By the way did you see which way Sally went?’

‘She didn’t pass this way Ms Tak, sorry’ the phone began to ring and Louise got on with her work.

Feeling better than she had in a long time Angela walked away, confident that things would work out in her favour. She grinned, and this grin held no humour, many patients knew that expression and when they saw it they cowered with fear. Hhmm.. I wonder how the newbie is getting on…

[Moderator]

Installment #9-Natjen24

‘This can’t be true. This isn’t where 318 should be’, Karen kept repeating with a soft childlike voice while she slowly pulled her fingers back from the old oak door.
She stood there, eyes locked onto that number which seemed to haunt her every thought, unable to move, unable to think.
She felt nauseated by both the smell and dampness of this underground floor and the queasiness of her first day, with the added touch of Angela’s aggravating behaviour, but despite feeling sick she didn’t want to move, not even if she would be able to get through to her malfunctioning grey matter.
Something compelled her to stay and let life pass her by. She felt the presence of it, right behind that thick wooden barrier.
All of a sudden and in one swift motion, the door flung open without even the slightest creak.
Overcome by surprise, Karen shook off her apathetic state and took an involuntary step backwards, while continuously staring into the dusky room in front of her. She couldn’t see much, the room was full of shadows.
She wanted to see more, but her feet lingered on the thought of physically being closer to whatever had been hiding behind that door.
‘Curiosity killed the cat..’ she thought absentmindedly, and took her first step towards the door. She looked both ways, as if to be sure no one was there. Her eyes soon came back to what her mind fixated on.
‘..but satisfaction brought it back.’ She entered the room and the door slid silently shut behind her. Karen didn’t notice.
She looked around while her eyes were adjusting to the shallow lighting. The room was narrow, but several yards long. In the back she could distinguish a little dais, maybe a foot high. Karen took a few steps to the side, gravel grinding under the soles of her shoes, the floor consisting of nothing more than plain concrete, apparently in a grave state of deterioration.
Her fingertips touched the wall lightly as she progressed to the front, as if to be sure she wouldn’t get lost. She felt the ruggedness of the bricks and trailed her fingers along the seams while slowly moving forward.
She could distinct more with every step she took towards the other end of the room.
She saw an operating table, in the middle of the small platform, with a nurses cart beside it. On top of the cart she could see something glimmering in the pale light.
As she squinted her eyes to see more, she realized the bed wasn’t vacant.
Her heart started beating wildly, as fear was getting his grip on her. She was holding in her breath, unwilling to believe what she saw. As she kept staring at the person strapped onto the bed, someone else came into view. Karen saw the young woman go over to the cart and pick up the implement she was shown earlier that day.