I'm here for you.

I'm here for you.

Sara and María

It was the 9th of september from the year 1971 when that tragedy happened. I remember I was hiding under my bed while hearing dead footsteps approaching me, or so I thought. From the hiding spot I was in I heard the agonizing scream of the boy who was hiding inside the locker near me, and visualized how the blood spread to under my bed. Stab by stab, I resisted the urge to throw up. When that man got out of the room, I spent like an hour there, processing what just happened; I didn’t even cry or scream internally, I was just thinking about how a person could do this to another. I guess that its already inevitable madness drives them to make a mass murder at a psychiatrist, how ironic.

I decided to get out of the bed, carefully, just in case he was waiting for me to come out. I looked at the dead body on the opposite bed of mine and decided to not lose any more seconds. I started to run through the large corridors of this damned hospital, ignoring the fact that I was stepping on, probably, my companions’ blood.

.

After a long 5 minutes, I caught a glimpse of the front door. I ignored the bad vibe that was running through my spinal cord and ran to my only hope. when I thought I was coming out of this nightmare, suddenly…

I woke up.
My hands were sweaty, and my chest was heavy after that strange dream I had. I also felt that my eyes were probably irritated, from the pain I felt in them. That dream was kind of familiar, and really... curious. Well, that didn’t matter at the moment. I looked at the calendar. It was the 6th of November. As that day was Marie’s (my friend’s) birthday, the day before I had to go to the vinyl store to buy her the new Queen album A new kind of magic; Queen is her favorite group ever, so I was sure she’d love that gift. We met up at Highbury Park.

- Hello, Maggie!! - Marie found me on my way to the park.
- Hey girl! Happy birthday to you!

Loading...

- Thank you! Come here, we have a piece of cake for you!
- Uhmmm, alright!
At that moment, I felt so anxious. I thought to myself, why did she say ‘we’? I was planning how to actually talk to that group of friends and started sweating exaggeratedly. Then, I realized it was just her parents. I felt really ashamed of myself, though I had a good time with them, they were really sweet, and they still are. I really wished my parents were there with me, at that moment. But they passed out many years ago. Let's just move on from that.

When I was on my way home, I noticed a strange, huge and old building I hadn't seen before but was familiar to me. And, somehow, felt the urge to enter it. I doubted it at first, but in the end, I stopped the car and took a look at the building. It was probably 50 years old, more or less. I thought that even though it gave off creepy vibes, I just needed to check it out. The front door was opened. I carefully opened it fully, walked in, and…

Loading...

Surprisingly it smelled really, really bad. I thought about getting out immediately, but the moment I heard a door slam, I knew I couldn’t. The only thing I could do was to investigate this mysterious building in order to find a way of exiting.

I started checking the rooms that were in the big corridor I was visualizing. I didn’t find anything relevant in any of those, except in the second last one. I found a diary from a person called Dr. Philip. Guided by curiosity, I opened the dusty journal to the last page. It was apparently him telling an event that happened 15 years ago;

‘Monday, 28th October 1971.

I don’t know who’s reading this right now. but if you’re doing so, I will need a little bit of your time to tell you a story. This is Saint Isabelle’s psychiatric hospital, which opened in the 30s. There are a lot of patients here, but we currently lack personnel here so they let anyone enter; no matter if they look suspicious. So, last month, a new doctor started working here.

Loading...

Surprisingly it smelled really, really bad. I thought about getting out immediately, but the moment I heard a door slam, I knew I couldn’t. The only thing I could do was to investigate this mysterious building in order to find a way of exiting.

I started checking the rooms that were in the big corridor I was visualizing. I didn’t find anything relevant in any of those, except in the second last one. I found a diary from a person called Dr. Philip. Guided by curiosity, I opened the dusty journal to the last page. It was apparently him telling an event that happened 15 years ago;

‘Monday, 28th October 1971.

I don’t know who’s reading this right now. but if you’re doing so, I will need a little bit of your time to tell you a story. This is Saint Isabelle’s psychiatric hospital, which opened in the 30s. There are a lot of patients here, but we currently lack personnel here so they let anyone enter; no matter if they look suspicious. So, last month, a new doctor started working here.

He seems really kind and good with people at first, but I found out that when it’s night, he does all kinds of experiments with kids. He injects them with fluids of dubious origin, and the next day they die or act very aggressive and weird. He is an obvious danger to this hospital and I will communicate to the head of this hospital the reason for the deaths of these children. I’m scared of what’s going to happen after I write this, I don’t know what’s going to happen with my daughter who’s a patient here. I’m so, so, scared. Don’t bother looking for another diary, I won’t be writing more. I hope you are doing alright right now and if you can, get OUT of here.’

I dropped the dusty diary. Suddenly I remembered what happened in my last night’s dream. I start to remember that I used to be a patient here when I was seven years old, too; I didn't remember the reason for it though, I saked myself 'was I that girl from the dream? If they're all dead then why did these memories flash through my mind?' My head was filled with theories and at the same time mixed feelings about this; I was really confused, sad and paranoid at that time.

After a long time thinking about that story, I just decided to check the last door I had left. I doubt, shake and sweat. And when I finally decide to open it,

Was written with blood on the wall. I look at my right, paralyzed, and scream at a little boy’s dead body. I crouch and scream, thinking someone was going to come for me, or something similar. My heart beats really fast, and I fall to the ground. I couldn't move, I couldn't even scream, I didn't have the ability.

I hear footsteps. Then a dark and dead voice utters ‘I finally found you, little girl’. With a bat, he aimed at my head and hit me.

I see blood running through my eyes.

ASSASSIN

ASSASSIN