The sun was setting fast now and had disappeared fully behind the trees. With a momentary sinking feeling that she was stuck in this place for another night Bria stood up and looked at the offices all around. There was only one way in, the stairway she had walked up. A small doorway at the far end led only to a small room that must have once been a set of bathrooms.
Bria would settle in for the night. “No sense running around in the dark. May as well make the best of this place,” she said to herself, trying to encourage some hope and some pleasure at the situation.
There were cupboards and cabinets everywhere. Every office contained at least one. Maybe she could break one up and a few chairs too and gather wood for a fire. She would need paper too if she wanted to start a fire.
“First things first,” Bria said. She took a deep breath and then set about making her home for the night. She dragged a heavy desk and placed it at the top of the open stairway. It wouldn’t stop anyone getting up but it would make it more difficult. She placed a few simple wooden chairs on top so anyone trying to get in would make some noise pressing past them. “At least I’ll know someone’s coming,” she said but it did little to comfort her.
Bria scrounged around the office floor. She pulled draws away from their desks and searched for paper and anything else she could use.
Office supplies made for poor survival equipment. There was nothing she could do with paper clips but she did scatter thumb tacks around the top of the stairway. Another token gesture to make herself feel more secure.
There was plenty of paper in various draws and filing cabinets. Some wooden draws were easy to break up and soon Bria had a useful amount of materials for the fire place.
“So, do I start rubbing sticks together?” she asked herself.
With the night drawing in and the office becoming dark she made one last quick round of the office. Then, with her bundle of fire wood and paper she went back to the big office and closed herself in for the night.
Bria threw the bundle of wood down next to the fireplace. There were filing cabinets in here too but they were made of metal. The desk was wood, and heavy. Bria moved it in front of the office door and blocked herself in. She felt trapped as the desk bumped into the office walls and the door. She didn’t much like the feeling but she consoled herself that she had also blocked any one from getting in.
She was as secure her as she had been for days. She had not been secure in that gang house and they had been nice to her only until she had committed the crime that bound her to them. She had not been safe in the back alleys of Waynesboro, evading the police and looking for playhouses or garages so she could shelter from the rain.
She had not been safe in the corridor next to the main hall. She didn’t feel very safe now but she had done her best. Now with the last dim gloomy light of late evening she set about searching this office.
The desk draws were empty but the filing cabinets seemed full. They were all locked and Bria guessed they were full of boring paper work. Bria took her knife and began trying to force the lock of a filing cabinet.
Bria was weak from days of poor sleep and even poorer food. But fortunately the knife was tough and the locks on the filing cabinet fragile from age. The first one popped open easily. Inside Bria found that the draw was indeed filled with boring paper work.
She popped open one draw after the next and found each filled with files. She glanced at one or two before throwing them to the pile of paper she hoped to burn. The fire would bring warmth. It would give light. Mostly it would bring comfort against the dark empty offices and the bleak corridors that Bria knew to be beneath were she stood now.
The bottom draw of the cabinet brought victory. A bottle of scotch was stuffed in between the files and tucked away at the back an old cigar and a book of matches.
The matches looked in a poor state. Bria was filled with hope but a nagging doubt grew until she feared it would overwhelm her. Would these matches light?
Bria prepared the fire. She might only have one shot at this and she needed to be sure the fire would take. Bria was no girl scout but she had started a fire before. A small paper fire in her back yard during summer vacation. She remembered now how her mother had yelled about it for days.
Bria prepared the paper in thin strips and sorted some wood in to piles of small splinters to several chair legs. With the light all but gone and the office in a blue dark of early evening Bria struck a match.
The sulphur tip crumbled away on the coarse striking strip. Bria felt a heaviness grow in her. She dispelled the feeling and carefully prepared the next match. It lit. The match but she had gripped the match so close to its head and it burnt her fingers.
Somehow she managed to drop the match to the paper strips without extinguishing it. Carefully she touched a strip of paper to the small flame. At caught. And then another. And the fire grew. Soon a whole patient file was burning.
Bria felt huge relief as the fire burned. She added some wood and watched intently as it began to burn. And then more wood and soon the fire was alive. Bria threw on a few chair legs and sat back feeling extremely satisfied with her work. She tucked her knees up to her chest. She watched the fire dance and listened excitedly to the snap and crackle of the wood as it burned.
Bria began preparing more firewood in the light of the fire. It threw shadows around the small office and through the office windows out into the offices beyond. Bria broke up more office furniture and threw the broken pieces towards the fire.
A sudden pop from the fire and Bria jumped. Her shadow wheeled around about her and across the floor and walls. She looked out from the glass office to the darkness beyond, probing for any movement and any signs of life. Maybe that old man would be attracted by the fire. If he came along she decided she would let him in. He seemed harmless enough and the dog was kind of cute with its red scarf. She had been fearful of the old guy but she was sure he meant her no harm. In any case, she still had her knife.
Bria chewed on a freshly opened candy bar as she smashed the last few wooden draws. She couldn’t be sure how long she could keep the fire going with the wood she’d gathered. She could always go out to the surrounding offices and get more but that would mean leaving the safety of her barricaded room and the fire. She would have to be sure not to burn the wood too quickly.
Bria’s water bottle was nearly empty and she was thirsty.
“Should have filled you with rain last night,” she said to the bottle. She placed the water bottle on the desk and picked up the bottle of scotch. The seal was unbroken. She twisted the cap off and held the open bottle to her nose.
She had drunk beer before. The gang had given her some beer. She’d not drunk much of it and she couldn’t say she had been affected by it. But this was scotch and she knew it was much stronger. She could smell it, sour and strong. She tipped the bottle to her lips and let the liquid slid inside. It was horrible. She spat it out. The liquor flew in a cloud of spray towards the fire. For a moment Bria feared she had in her foolishness doused the fire but to her surprise and delight the mist erupted in a bright orange fireball that hung for only a moment and then vanished.
Bria smiled to herself and tried again. And again she created a mist fireball. It was tempting to try again but the scotch left a nasty taste in her mouth. She replaced the cap and put the bottle aside.
Bria felt a chill come over her and she pulled her jacked tight to her. The office was getting dark as the fire died down. Bria saw a sudden shadow grow in front of her, creeping up the wall and over the ceiling. Something was moving behind her. She turned with the bottle ready as weapon. Nothing, just the dark of the empty office floor.
“Plenty of paper here,” she said out loud. “That will make plenty of light.” Bria went to the next cabinet and broke open the lock.
Bria yawned and opened a patient file absentmindedly. She took the top page and slipped it onto the fire. The fire flared up and filled the office with light. Bria read the next page in the file that
lay open in her lap. It documented a patient. A young woman who had suffered from lunacy. Bria read again. Lunacy was not a word she expected to read in a hospital file. But Bria realized this was an old file from a different time and words like lunacy were probably acceptable back then.
“So what sort of lunatic were you?” Bria asked as she fed the page into the fire and read the next.
The woman had a history of hysterical behaviour. She had displayed lunacy in public and had been driven to utter despair. She had been snatched from a window ledge in a high rise block by a policeman and brought to the hospital and entrusted to the care of Doctor Joseph Dixon.
The next page detailed symptoms that included fear of loneliness and isolation.
Bria fed the page into the fire and read the next. The next page was stamped with a large red stamp and the words, special treatment authorised.
Bria felt sorry for this woman she had never met nor ever would as she fed the last of her file to the fire. Bria felt she had intruded on someone’s private pain. And then the fire died low and Bria took another file.
Again the file gave an account of a patient suffering from a form of lunacy. An old man this time who had been a farmer but was eventually found guilty of animal torture by a court and sentenced to reside in the care of Doctor Joseph Dixon.
The next page Bria read by the dancing firelight detailed the old man’s fear of animals. She read how the old man had claimed the animals had talked to him and told him they wanted to possess him and destroy him. The file read that the old man suffered delusions and fear of all beasts.
The next page had a large red stamp on it that read, special treatment authorised.
Bria took another bite of her candy and picked up another file. Again it was a sorry tale of some person driven to despair by some unfortunate incident. Another page that detailed a list of symptoms. And then finally a red stamp, special treatment authorised.
Bria began reading through one file after the next. Another file and another patient entrusted to the care of Doctor Joseph Dixon. Each file contained a list of symptoms ranging from the heart breaking to the bizarre. Each file contained a list of fears and the red stamp, special treatment authorised.
Bria yawned again, a loud yawn that shuddered through her entire body. She piled the last of the wood on the fire. She made a bed out of the patient files and lay down. She pulled her jacket around her for warmth and for comfort. What she really needed was security. The fire and the blocked office door would have to be enough. Tomorrow she would find her way out of this place.
Sleep came silently and stealthily. It overcame Bria’s nerves and hunger and fear. She knew she was dreaming now but everything seemed so real. She was standing in the office. The files were all back in their cabinets. Workers were moving about the office beyond this one. A man sat in the large chair behind the desk, feet up and a large cigar in his mouth.
“You must be crazy to run away from home,” he said.
“I haven’t run away. I’ve left home.” Bria said.
“You’re a runaway. What is so bad about people who feed you and clothe you and encourage you to do well for yourself?”
“You don’t know what you are talking about.”
“I do. I’m talking about fear. What do you fear? Turning into your mother or father? Being left alone?”
“I’m not afraid. And I’m not alone,” Bria tried to find her knife. It was gone.
“Violent urges? Fear of loneliness? I think we can authorise special treatment for you.”
And then the man got up from behind his desk. He took the cigar out of his mouth and held it in his upturned palms. The cigar melted and became black ooze that reflected the flickering firelight and dribbled between his fingers.
As he advanced towards her she tried to take a step back. The floor had become the same black sticky mess that was pouring out of the doctor’s hands. Bubbling up and overflowing, spreading across the floor and around Bria’s boots. The thick sticky liquid began creeping up her body, stopping her from moving.
And then Bria was strapped to a gurney. The black ooze was creeping all over her body.
“I’ll have you in my laboratory, Bria,” the doctor said.
And then the gurney was in the wide entrance hall and the doctor was locking the large front door. Next Bria was in a dark basement.
“Welcome to my lab,” the doctor said. “I want you to help me,” he said. “I want you to help me understand death.”
And then Bria was in darkness and all alone. The black ooze was everywhere. Bria screamed but the black ooze silenced her. She strained at her restraints, the gurney wobbled and toppled and fell.
Bria woke in a frightening instant. She jerked about on the floor and scurried away from where she lay. She charged across the office floor and crashed into a filling cabinet knocking it over.
The cabinet fell with a crash. Bria stopped and looked about her. She was sitting in a stream of daylight and feeling the warm morning sun on her body. She was sitting back against a fallen filing cabinet. Files were strewn across the floor. On dozens of the spilt papers she saw the same red stamp over and over again. Special treatment authorised.
Bria gathered up all the papers and threw them in the fireplace over the dead ashes of last night’s fire.
This whole place was weird, she though. Time to get out of here. She pulled the barricade way from the office door and pulled the door open. She looked back at the room. In the far corner behind the fallen filing cabinet she saw her water bottle. There were only a few sips in there but she needed them. She picked her way through the debris scattered about the office towards her bottle. Then she saw dangling out of the bottom draw of the fallen filing cabinet a large bunch of keys. Large keys on a steel hoop.
“I think we’ve found the front door key,” Bria said scooping them up off the floor. “Now all I need is to find that damn front door.”
Chapter 11
Bria didn’t know the way to the front door but she knew where she was in relation to it. The doctor’s office was at the front corner of the building. She could see the long and winding driveway and just through the trees she could see the tall gates. She knew she needed to go down. She could see the stairs down from the office floor. It was a start. She summoned the courage and determination and set off. This place wasn’t so big that she would be lost in here for another night. She was getting out today. She was definitely getting out today.
Bria moved quickly. She kicked open one door after the next, moving along methodically searching out the exit. She was sure there was a main stairway that would allow her to go down to the main hall and to that front door. This big bunch of keys had to have the main door key on it. Whoever had locked her in obviously didn’t know that there had been a duplicate set hidden in that office.
Bria paced along in a determined fashion. She might be at this for some time so didn’t want to tire herself out. She was lacking proper food and proper sleep so she knew she could tire quickly. She needed to pace herself but also needed to move quickly. There was something creepy about this place.
Bria turned a corner and ran into the old man. The both stopped in their tracks and took an involuntary step back. Only the dog seemed happy and it jumped up on Bria for attention.
“Oh, it’s you.” Bria said.
“Sorry to startle you, young lady,” the old man said.
“I didn’t hear you coming at all.” Bria said.
“I heard you,” the old man said. “Heard you last night, I did. Yelling, you were. I was trying to find you to tell you you’re ok.”
“I had a dream.”
“Maybe.” The old man said.
Bria bent down and scratched the dog on the back of his head. The damp pink tongue lolled out of the big mouth. “It’s Toby, right,” Bria said.
“Yes, and I’m Dan. Pleased to meet you.” The old man held out a dirty hand.
Bria took the hand nervously. What was this old fool’s game, she th
ought.
“I’m just looking for my pipe,” Dan said.
“I’m looking for the front door,” Bria said. “Do you know where it is?” she asked.
“Yes,” said Dan. “The main stairway is just around that corner.”
“You know your way around?” Bria asked. “It’s like a maze to me.”
“You’ll find your way out,” Dan said.
“I can’t wait,” Bria said. “It’s creepy in here. There were shadows dancing all over the walls last night. And I had horrible nightmares. It’s as if the whole place is haunted.”
Dan shook his head and scrunched up his dirty, wrinkled face. “I don’t think so, miss.” He said. “No such thing as ghosts. I’ve been here years and I’ve never seen one.”
“Well, I’m leaving right now in any case,” Bria said. “If you want to come into town with me maybe we can get something to eat. I’m starved.”
“I’m not leaving,” Dan said, “not until I find my pipe. But it looks like you’ve got the door key.” Dan whistled a short note and Toby came to heel. “If you find my pipe just leave it by my door. And don’t forget to leave the door open for me to get it.”
“You bet.” Bria said as Dan and Toby wandered off along the corridor.
~~~~~
Bria found the stairway where she’d been told it was and it led her down to the entrance hall. The large main door was still shut. The leaves and twigs still littered the floor. Bria walked towards the door with the keys in her hand. Stepping up to the heavy door she looked for the keyhole. There was one large keyhole for a large mortise key. Bria searched along the large steel ring for a key of about the right size. She found the biggest and slid it in.
The wind whispered against the far side of the door. The key wouldn’t turn. Bria found another key that might be the one. The wind whispered again and grew to a shriek as the wind blew through the large keyhole.
Bria picked the next one on the hoop and tried it. The key wouldn’t turn on the lock. The wind howled. Bria felt the hairs on her neck stand up and felt a cold breath on her neck. She turned, her heart in her mouth, expecting to see Dan standing there. Nothing.
Haunting and Scares Collection Page 5