It has been a rather boring day here at the ward for the mentally insane. I have done my rounds and sister Merkel has signed off on my papers to get the schizoids new medication.I'll take anything to get them to be quiet in the night. I've been working here for 10, or 12 years It's hard for me to remember. Though I have never been scared of working the nights on a skeleton crew I often worry that the devil will take a waltz through these halls.
I say my goodbyes to the help, and when they say ¨Have a good day misser’ Roger¨ I reply with smiling eyes. I always detested how they call me by my first name, but I pay it no attention. They pack into their small cars and drive away down our long serpentined road. I return to the large wooden front …show more content…
Dammit why am I a coward, and I haven't even called the police yet. If a call anyone It'll make me look weak and unauthoritative, I can't sacrifice my job. The church will surely put me back at the food pantry if the found out a patient died nor of natural causes. ¨What shall I do¨ I ask myself. I begin to pace, plotting and contemplating my next move. Do I believe Mildred or myself? I choose me. I begin to walk out of my office. I walk down the hallway and pass the blood stained floor, and it appears as if the blood penetrated into the floor becoming part of the floor. I pass all the rooms, and the patients are all in their respective rooms, some there some not. I pass an exit secured just I have asked. ¨Let's have a look see at the cafeteria ¨ I say to myself. As I go down the hall I see a empty room and it is open I peer inside and written on the wall in dried blood and excrement a putrid smell radiated from the room. I cover my nose and read what it says. On the wall it reads¨Mortem cecidit ad sacerdotem¨ … ¨ Death to the fallen priest¨ in latin. My heart sinks my face becomes flush with warm blood. I got to get out of here. I calmly walk toward the end of the protracted corridor. Every painting of my once true lord is crying then in rage, for it is changing as I look at them. The doors of all the rooms slowly opens creating a deafening creak as they all become ajar. The once innocent and pure elderly become faceless beings, so unhuman. They step outside of their rooms as I spin around becoming suffocated by lack of space. I duck into a nurse station in the middle of the hall, to my surprise was empty. I fumble for the keys to lock the door. I step back as I see the once dead woman with throat slit and all staring at me through the door glass, and her eyes are unforgiving. My prayer was insincere. The door begins to rattle and then vibrate it moves the air around my body, and making my skin