Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-24381191-20140930151008

''I'm not too sure about this, it's not really going well for me and before I finish this, I think you guys should check it out. This story sucks, I know.''



The bleak stone building cast a shadow reaching the metal fence that separated us from the building. It was afternoon, and the intensity of summer was evident in the warm humid air that seemed to bake me. The building was a long, box-like edifice, crudely built and worsened by time.

“Let’s go, guys,” I said, walking over to a large hole in the fence that would serve as our entrance. I entered the untamed overgrowth of weeds, Luke followed then glanced back at Gabe who was staring at the building intently. Luke and I followed his gaze but when we saw nothing particularly interesting, we turned back to him.

“Hello? Earth to Gabe,” Luke mocked, waving his hands. This snapped him out of whatever trance he was in. He seemed a little scared, but that was natural since he was the scaredy-cat of the group. He finally set foot in the dense vegetation and we continued toward the building. Faded letters painted on top of the structure read ‘Greenwood Home for the Mentally Ill.’ It was the sole home for people with mental illnesses at the time when people thought that locking them up was a good idea. It didn’t even look like a mental hospital, or a proper building, for that matter.

It had gone out of business years ago; the entire property was abandoned. I was hoping for there to be something like gurneys and straightjackets left over, but that was unlikely, as this particular hospital didn’t use those; each patient had a separate room where they were locked away.

Someone had bought the land and hoped to build a theme park, of sorts. That project was quickly abandoned. Eventually, teenagers started exploring in there, sometimes looking for thrills, other times, looking for places to have sex. My friends and me just wanted to do some ‘urban exploration,’ we weren’t really excited, just glad that we actually had something to do in summer.

After that, a wide array of rumors had started to circulate about the place. Like those urban legends and campfire tales. Most of the time, they derived heavily from other stories or horror films. Some people at school actually believed them, myself not included.

“Woah, guys, check this out!” I called out to my friends as I spotted something curious in a small clear patch near the building. As my friends walked over to see what it was, I pointed to the dead raccoon that lay in front of me. Its neck was twisted completely, nearly pulled off of its body, a horrible way to die. Fur was matted with dried brown blood. A slightly repugnant smell emanated from the carcass, the fact that it wasn’t making me puke meant it had not been too much time since it had died.

“How do you think it died?” Gabe questioned.

“Broke its neck. Duh, can’t you see?” Luke answered.

“I know that. I was asking what killed it, dumbass.”

“How the fuck are we supposed to know?” I interjected. Telling them that we were burning daylight and should probably begin our exploration, I tried to push the door open. It wouldn’t budge.

“Here, let me try,” Luke said, and without so much as a warning, thrust his foot into the door. It flung open, bits of wood flying into the air.

“Dude, what the fuck?”

He just looked at me with a dopey expression on his face and asked me, “What?”

<p class="MsoNormal">I just shook my head and proceeded to enter the structure. It wasn’t humid, like the outside, but still rather warm. We were lucky that we brought along flashlights; even in the afternoon, the scarcity of windows allowed little light to make its way in. Luke had disturbed a lot of dust and it floated out of the doorway.

<p class="MsoNormal">We walked in, as the darkness enveloped us. It was just bright enough to make out the shapes of Luke and Gabe moving. I clicked on my flashlight, shining it all around us. The walls were covered in graffiti. Outside, there were two, maybe three, messages in graffiti, but here, the walls were lined with it. Other people left this as proof of their visit here. It had become a sort of tradition in our small town; whoever came here left their mark. What was left of the white paint was cracked and peeling. Long cracks appeared after every few inches.

<p class="MsoNormal">I silently examined some of the graffiti while Luke and Gabe did the same. It was mostly ‘____ was here’ in a variety of handwriting, there was little of the ‘artsy’ graffiti that evidently had time put into it. I turned away and shone my flashlight on the opposite wall, more of those messages littered this wall as well. Searching the ground, I found a small rock. After messily etching ‘Mike was here’ into the stone, I handed it to Gabe.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Here.” There were probably more Mikes who had been here but I didn’t want to go through the trouble of writing my full name like a couple of certain nerds.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Don’t you have a marker or something?” he asked me as he forcibly rubbed the small stone on the wall.

<p class="MsoNormal">I shook my head. “Nope.”

<p class="MsoNormal">After Gabe was done, Luke had his turn. After he was done, we walked deeper into the dark. It wouldn’t be long until we reached the end, so we decided to check all the separate rooms in which they held the patients. As we walked toward the rooms, the graffiti decreased.

<p class="MsoNormal">We pushed open the first door. It was metal and made a loud creak as it slowly swung open. Walking in, I noticed a small rectangular hole at the very top of the room that served as the only window and source of light beside our flashlights. It allowed only a small patch of light to snake its way into the room. A cobweb decorated the rectangular hole, with a spider resting in the middle of it. A small, metal toilet rested against one wall.

<p class="MsoNormal">Squinting at the floor in the corner, I discovered a few drops of a dried, brown liquid. Aged blood, no doubt. A trail of it led up the grey wall. Something was written on it:

<p class="MsoNormal">''I’LL GET HER BACK ''

<p class="MsoNormal">I called the others. Luke came, but Gabe stayed at his spot.

<p class="MsoNormal">“What?’” he asked.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Check this out,” I said, pointing at the wall.

<p class="MsoNormal">After examining it, he whispered, “What the fuck?” not taking his eyes off of the wall.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Hey, guys, I think you may want to see this!” Gabe called.

<p class="MsoNormal">I snapped my head around to see Gabe examining another section of the wall. I walked over and saw what was so interesting about.

<p class="MsoNormal">Scratched in it were the words: ''I’LL GET HER BACK ''

<p class="MsoNormal">They weren’t completely scratched in, though, after HE, the R and everything beyond it was in blood. I cringed at the thought of someone scratching words into a wall with their fingernails, breaking them, and continuing to do so. As I looked over the rest of the wall, I saw that these two weren’t the only times the patient had written on the wall. It was covered with the two phrases repeating themselves.

<p class="MsoNormal">''I JUST WANTED TO PLAY WITH SARAH ''

<p class="MsoNormal">''I JUST WANTED TO PLAY WITH SARAH ''

<p class="MsoNormal">''I’LL GET HER BACK ''

<p class="MsoNormal">''I JUST WANTED TO PLAY WITH SARAH ''

<p class="MsoNormal">''I’LL GET HER BACK ''

<p class="MsoNormal">I actually felt genuinely sorry for the person that ended up in here. It was clear that they did not intend to do whatever harm they did to Sarah, and they spent the rest of their life rotting in this place, slowly losing their sanity. We left the room, advancing further into the dark. Pushing open the door to the next room, we were met with an inky blackness. It seemed as if the light emanating from our flashlights couldn’t pierce through the dark, as if it somehow faded into the dark. Maybe it was because of particles in the air, maybe it was something else.

<p class="MsoNormal">Luke was the first to advance inside. It seems farfetched and plain ridiculous, but when he went inside, he disappeared into the blackness. The last I saw of him when his head disappeared into the dark. Even his flashlight seemed to stop giving out light. At the time, I thought that he was just messing with Gabe and me, trying to get under our skin. Which was the reason I advanced forward, if I had known what was really going on I would have called him from where I stood.

<p class="MsoNormal">I entered the pitch black. My flashlight, gripped in my hand, cast light that barely extended past my arm. It dissipated in the air in front of me.

<p class="MsoNormal">I called out, “Luke!” My voice echoed all around me, when it stopped, there was silence, complete silence.

<p class="MsoNormal">I waited a while, hoping for an answer.

<p class="MsoNormal">When I got sick of waiting, I yelled again, “Luke, where are you, you bitch?” The echo bounced throughout the room.

<p class="MsoNormal">The silence was eerie.

<p class="MsoNormal">I heard slow, quiet footsteps behind me. It was Luke, trying to scare me. Swiftly turning around, I found that it was not Luke, but Gabe. He staggered toward me, his arms hanging loosely beside him, flashlight clutched tightly in his fist, and head hung low. He was dicking around, trying to scare me. As he raised his head to look at me, he seemed surprised. Truth be told, so was I. His face was lined with wrinkles and folds, and he looked elderly.

<p class="MsoNormal">Except for the fact that he clearly wasn’t. His hair was still carrot-red, and he was just as short as ever. The only question that was relevant was ‘When did he have a chance to do that to do that to his face?’ He couldn’t do that in the little time that passed since I came in here. I tried not to be afraid, but he got to me. A wave of fear washed over me.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Mike!” he yelled. Then I noticed his lips weren’t even moving, it was someone else yelling.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Mike!” I heard it again.

<p class="MsoNormal">It’s hard to put into words what happened. The darkness melted away revealing a wall with a door, and suddenly I was back at the entrance of the room. Luke and Gabe stood in front of me, shining their flashlights on my face. I blinked from the sudden brightness, then shielded my eyes with my palm.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Dude, what happened?” Gabe asked.

<p class="MsoNormal">“What do you mean?” I asked, uncertain whether he would believe me about the hallucination even if I told him. Was I sick?

<p class="MsoNormal">“You stood there for such a long time. What was that about?”

<p class="MsoNormal">I shrugged.

<p class="MsoNormal">''Was that really what had happened? ''

<p class="MsoNormal">“I- uh, I don’t know,” I shakily replied, confused.

<p class="MsoNormal">“You okay, man?” Luke asked with a hint of concern in his voice.

<p class="MsoNormal">“I’m fine,” I mumbled as I made my way into the room. It had a window unlike my hallucination. There was nothing special about this one, no scratches on the wall, no blood, nothing. The next few rooms had nothing to distinguish from the next either. One thing I noticed was when we opened the doors for the subsequent rooms, a shadow passed onto the window, blocking out the light. It lasted for no more than a split-second and Luke and Gabe seemingly took no notice of it.

<p class="MsoNormal">Was I still hallucinating?

<p class="MsoNormal">The last three rooms were pretty interesting. The story was true after all. Well, part of it, at least. Each had various blood stains splattered on the walls and large amounts of brown, patches of dried blood pooled on the floor. Arthur Greenwood really was a psycho. The last three rooms at the end of the main corridor had been bloodied, just like in the alleged tale. Curiosity grew up inside me and I wondered if the stories of experiments conducted by Arthur on inmates were true as well.

<p class="MsoNormal">We walked back down the corridor, and an intersection came up.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Was that there before?” I just, sort of, blurted it out.

<p class="MsoNormal">“I don’t know. Maybe we just didn’t notice it before,” Gabe replied, a bit shakily. I looked over at him, droplets of sweat lined his forehead and one even managed to reach his chin which he quickly wiped with his sleeve. The heat was getting to me, too. There was a look of worry on his face. Glancing at Luke, I noticed he bore a face of concern as well.

<p class="MsoNormal">He remained silent.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Let’s go then,” Luke finally spoke. We walked further. No one said a word, the only sounds were our footsteps. Walking past the intersected hallways, I turned my head a little. It wasn’t my body being magically controlled, or any of that otherworldly stuff, just impulse. I spotted something that made my blood run cold. In the dim light produced by our flashlights, I saw the silhouette of a person, with a pair of glowing silvery eyes, standing right beside me. I couldn’t make out any other features due to the scarcity of light, but I stumbled back into Gabe and knocked him over in the process of stumbling to the floor.

<p class="MsoNormal">My head hit his shoulder hard, but I still tried my best to lift myself onto my palms, crawling back toward the wall, all the while muttering, “Shit…shit…shit!”

<p class="MsoNormal">Gabe groaned, “Ow.” He wasn’t even that hurt. It was me who should’ve been groaning like that.

<p class="MsoNormal">Luke questioned me, “Dude, what happened?” When I didn’t say anything other than more “shit”s, he asked again, louder this time, “Dude, what the fuck happened?” There was a hint of agitation in his voice, and I didn’t blame him for being agitated.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Did…Didn’t you see that?” I asked, picking up my flashlight and pointing it at the place where I had seen the apparition. There was nothing there. Just as I had expected. Still, it did nothing to calm my nerves or slow down my racing heartbeat.

<p class="MsoNormal">Luke pointed at the same place with his flashlight. He then turned to me, and asked, “Are you really alright?” I swallowed. Meanwhile Gabe recovered from his fall. He picked up his flashlight while groaning. I hesitated. I wanted to answer yes, but I knew I wasn’t alright.

<p class="MsoNormal">A large black form rose up behind Luke. It grew to the point where its peak nearly touched the ceiling. Both Gabe and I noticed it.

<p class="MsoNormal">Wide-eyed, scared out of my skin, I yelled, “Shit! Fuck, dude!” My cursing didn’t do much except confuse and startle Luke.

<p class="MsoNormal">Gabe screamed at Luke in the shrillest, loudest scream I had ever heard come from a male. He yelled, “Behind you!”

<p class="MsoNormal">Our flashlights went out.

<p class="MsoNormal">I want to be able to say I was brave, but truthfully, I screamed like a little girl.

<p class="MsoNormal">The next several seconds were of screaming, cursing and flicking the switches on our lights on and off.

<p class="MsoNormal">Then everything went silent. Everything besides my cursing. Finally, as if by magic, the flashlight turned on. I swung it all around me, my movements hysterical. Even in the dim light, my eyes concentrated on every little detail. Paranoia really heightens a person’s senses. With trembling hands, I pointed the flashlight toward the place where apparition had appeared. Nothing but dirty, cracked walls.

<p class="MsoNormal">Slowly inching forward, I called out for Luke, and then Gabe. I waited. The only sounds now were those of my heavy breathing and heart racing.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Luke! Gabe! If you guys are fucking with me, you’re gonna regret it, you assholes!”

<p class="MsoNormal">My cries echoed out throughout the long, gray corridor. No response this time wither. After a long sigh, I continued down the corridor, toward the exit. I hoped they were just fucking around. Should I have just left them there? They were just messing around, right? They weren’t in any danger, of course, I mean, ghosts couldn’t hurt people, if they even existed.

<p class="MsoNormal">Footsteps echoed all around me, out of boredom, and trying to calm my still beating heart, I counted them. ''One, two, three, four, five, six. ''

<p class="MsoNormal">I stopped dead in my tracks. Another footstep sounded. Someone was following me.

<p class="MsoNormal">Swiftly turning, I expected to see Luke or Gabe, or both. But there was no one. They could not possibly hide that quick. Then I spotted them. Two black shapes were speedily advancing toward me.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Hey, wait!” the sound echoed throughout the hall. I was going to kick their asses so hard when we got out of this place. I stood in place, waiting for them; I could barely contain my rage while they chuckled and giggled as they walked toward me. I waited impatiently as they grew in size, and I could make out their faces.

<p class="MsoNormal">That was when I noticed, they weren’t my friends.

<p class="MsoNormal">One of them had a long scar running down his face, the other had a black eye. Both had a grin that extended from ear to ear. As they came closer, I noticed how their smile looked forced, as if their lips were stretched to form a smile. Nevertheless, I ran. I ran as fast as I could, as far away as my legs could carry me. The corridor never seemed to end.

<p class="MsoNormal">I before I slowed down to a walk, and eventually halted. Putting my hands on my knees, I bent down and took a few deep breaths. Sweat trickled down my forehead to the tip of my nose before dripping down onto the floor. Once my breathing returned to normal, I noticed the silence. There was no way this place could be so silent. The only sound was the blood coursing through my veins and the occasional patter of my sweat falling to the floor.

<p class="MsoNormal">The silence was terrifying.

<p class="MsoNormal">I continued walking. The corridor never seemed to end; I had been walking for minutes yet I still didn’t reach the way out. A soft sound that resembled a distant moaning echoed in my ears. Ignore it, it’s all in your head, I told myself. ''It’s all in your head. ''

<p class="MsoNormal">As I walked further, the sound got clearer and I identified it as a quiet sob. ''Fucking ignore it. ''One of the doors was slightly ajar, white light poured out of it. I pushed the door open. It was a stupid thing to do, but something compelled me.

<p class="MsoNormal">When I opened the door, she noticed me and lifted her head up, while emitting a chorus of moans. Her mouth had a rag tied tightly around it. The girl looked at me through misty eyes, strands of hair hung in front of her face; she looked around my age. It would be difficult to identify anyone in this condition, but I recognized her.

<p class="MsoNormal">She was my girlfriend.

<p class="MsoNormal">Sarah Tyler. We’d been dating for almost a year and had grown quite close. Cuts and bruises covered her legs, arms and torso; she was naked.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Sarah! No, no, no, no, no.” I dropped the flashlight and rushed to her aid, untying the ropes that restrained her arms. Then I proceeded to do the same with her legs as she weakly tried to pry the cloth from her mouth while quietly sobbing.

<p class="MsoNormal">She feebly stood up as soon as the ropes fell from her legs, pulling me in an embrace. She broke into a full-on cry.

<p class="MsoNormal">It wasn’t the right time to ask such a question, but I had to know. “Were you…”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Raped?” She cut me off. “No. No, no.” I didn’t press any further, she had been through enough. I gripped her tightly; my eyes misted over. It felt good in her hug. For those few seconds, the world could fuck off.

<p class="MsoNormal">Then she whispered into my ear, “But I was murdered.”

<p class="MsoNormal">''What the fuck did she just say?! ''

<p class="MsoNormal">She moved away from me, with considerable ease, compared to how she should have moved, taking in note her injuries. It wasn’t my girlfriend. The woman standing in front of me was taller than Sarah, her limbs were bony sticks and her complexion was dreadfully pale.

<p class="MsoNormal">Her thin, long lips opened and her stretched face got even longer as she spoke, arms outstretched, “Look what he did to me.” Her voice was soft and quiet, barely above the volume of a whisper. She stretched her arms and I noticed two red lines running across her forearms. Another red line ran along her neck, and one on each foot.

<p class="MsoNormal">I suddenly remembered the story a kid in school had told me, ‘First he chopped off their legs, then their arms, and finally, their neck.’

<p class="MsoNormal">Two more clothe-less people, a man and another woman, who I was sure weren’t there before, uttered in unison, “Look what he did to me.” I felt suffocated; I was frozen. Not frozen with fear, literally frozen, I couldn’t move a single muscle; I couldn’t breathe.

<p class="MsoNormal">I could feel the sweat in the palm of my hand clutching the flashlight.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Look what he did to us.”

<p class="MsoNormal">More people, scars and stitches running down their limbs and torso, surrounded me. What in the hell had Arthur Greenwood been doing to them?

<p class="MsoNormal">A burning pain started in my chest and right arm. I was freed from my paralysis; I dropped the flashlight and took heavy breaths. A wince escaped my mouth. The pain grew worse, and a wet sensation ran down my torso. I lifted my shirt and looked; nothing was there.

<p class="MsoNormal">I was feeling their pain.

<p class="MsoNormal">Doubling over, I noticed another person - this time fully clothed – towering above me. My vision was too blurry to make out any features other than the glowing silver eyes. After a few minutes of squirming around on the floor in unbearable pain, my eyelids grew heavy and found myself falling into the sweet state of unconsciousness.

<p class="MsoNormal">Everything around me was black as I regained my consciousness; my eyes remained shut. Curling up into a ball, I dismissed all that had taken place as a dream. However, it soon came to my attention that the surface I lay on was not my bed, the dungeon I was lost in was not my room. This place was not my home.

<p class="MsoNormal">I lifted myself up. The room wasn’t as bright as before. The only light was the nearly extinguished glow of the setting sun. I scanned the room, no more of those freaks. That was a good sign. I staggered over to a shape on the floor, and picked up the object. I sighed, trying not to go ballistic; my flashlight was broken.

<p class="MsoNormal">Fear settled in me once again, and my bones became brittle at the memory of those people. I was slightly shivering, and tears formed at my ears, waiting to be released. I did what I had always done when something made me want to cry, I hid my emotions, even though there was no one here, no one but the ghosts that is.

<p class="MsoNormal">It suddenly hit me, my phone! I dug into my trouser pockets, and pulled out my iPhone. The glow of the screen illuminated the screen, there were still four bars; I dialed 911. A few seconds later a woman’s voice sounded.

<p class="MsoNormal">“911, what’s your emergency?”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Hello, I’m trapped in the Greenwood asylum, please send someone!” I cried out in desperation, and my voice echoed throughout the room.

<p class="MsoNormal">“You’re stuck in the asylum, huh? Too bad.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“What?”

<p class="MsoNormal">“No one can save you now. You’re going to rot in this prison until you die.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“What?!”

<p class="MsoNormal">“You will suffer as we have. You dared to enter our resting place, and you will be punished.” <ac_metadata title="The Greenwood Home for the Mentally Ill (Incomplete; kinda long) [UNREVIEWED]"> </ac_metadata>