“Susan just fucking called me! Being all spooky and everything. Ohhh, Simon, I’m coming over. You know how sick it is to pretend someone is dead? You are both vile. Tell her that she best not come near this place or I’ll kill her myself!”
He hung up the phone before Maria had chance to say anything else. Still shaking with rage, Simon threw his phone at the glass table. He was hoping that the table would smash, feeling that breaking something would relieve him of this anger. What happened was far less satisfactory. His phone just slid along the table, knocking the magazine off, before eventually sliding under the couch.
“Oh, for fucks sake.”
He pulled the table out of the way. It made a horrible screeching noise as he dragged it along the laminate flooring. He lay down on the floor and looked under the couch to see where about the phone has slid to. It was so dark that he couldn’t see anything. He reached his hand under to feel around for it.
From under the couch came a hand. It grabbed Simon's arm. Simon looked at the tight grip of the fingers wrapped around his forearm. He jumped up from the floor, screaming and shaking his arm. Nothing was there.
Simon looked down at the couch. Still shaking with fear, rational thoughts began to enter his head again. The gap under the couch must be three inches at best. There is no way that anyone, or anything, other than his phone, could fit under there. The doorbell rang, making him jump again.
“Jesus Christ, I’m going to have a heart attack today.”
He stormed to the door, shaking, trembling. He looked through the peephole. Magnified by the circular glass was Susan’s smiling face. Simon could feel the blood rush to his head again. He was glad that she'd finally turned up. He needed a good argument to get rid of all this anger and stress. He dragged the door open.
“Right, you…” He stopped.
No one was there. For a split second, he felt terrified, but then the anger came rushing back again. So now they were being so childish as to play knock and run. Simon slammed the door shut so hard that it echoed through the living room. He wanted to grab his phone and call them to give them a piece of his mind for being so childish. But even though he didn’t want to admit it, the thought of reaching under that couch still creeped him out.
He decided to have a shower. The soothing heat of the water against his body usually calmed him down when he was in moods like this. He turned the shower on and began to strip while the water warmed up.
With the bathroom steaming up, Simon reached in to feel the water. It was nice and hot. He pulled the shower curtain back and stepped in. He lowered his head under the spray and closed his eyes, letting it run along the top of his head and down his face. Suddenly, he jumped back in a fright. The water was freezing.
He opened his eyes and saw Susan staring back at him. She stood naked with the water streaming across her body. It wasn’t the perfect, beautiful body that Simon had looked upon so many times. It was covered with deep lacerations. Her lower left arm hung loosely by what looked to be a piece of skin. Simon could quite clearly see the bone.
“I want us to be together, Simon.” Her voice came out like a whisper, but it was loud as well. It seemed to echo through the bathroom.
Simon fell out of the bath, dragging the shower curtain with him. Lying naked on the bathroom floor, he looked up to see that the room was empty.
“I swear to God, I'm going fucking crazy. It’s her, she’s not even here anymore but she’s finally pushed me over the edge.” He laughed. “Look at this. I'm even talking to myself now.”
He didn’t even bother to get dry. He threw the clothes he had been previously wearing back on and marched straight to the fridge. His face was a picture of determination. He looked like a man going to war.
“Right, that’s it. I'm going to sit here and get drunk. And then I'm going to laugh non-stop until I go to bed.”
He grabbed his box sets of Only Fools and Horses and The Young Ones. He put the first disc in.
After several hours of drinking and very forced laughter, Simon threw his last can on the floor. He had already dropped several while being drunk and trying to place them on the coffee table, completely forgetting that he had moved it earlier.
He staggered to the bedroom. Barging the door open, he built up to a sort of hunch backed run. Then, he flopped onto the bed. He lay there, still fully dressed, on top of the covers.
“Fucking bitches,” he mumbled.
He didn’t close his eyes. He just stared at the patterned wallpaper, watched it spinning round. Another side effect of his nights drinking. Plus, he didn’t even like that wallpaper. That was another thing that Susan had chosen.
As he was starting to drift off, Simon could feel the cover being pulled from beneath him. Slowly, it was being pulled back over and then starting to cover him.
“Don’t worry, darling. I’m just tucking you in.” A whisper in his ear.
“Thank you. I love you,” he whispered back.
“I love you too.”
Simon’s eyes opened wide when he felt a kiss on his cheek. He bolted upright, throwing the covers off, looking around the room. It was empty.
“No. This is enough. I need to find out if I’m going crazy or if she's dead.”
He stumbled out of bed and zig zagged into the living room to grab his car keys. "I'm going to Maria’s,” he shouted. “Fucking ghost.”
He struggled to get the key in the ignition at first. He was still seeing double and everything was moving round. Finally, he got it in. He revved the engine and then shot down the road. He didn’t even notice that he had knocked a wing mirror off one of the parked cars.
Pulling onto the carriageway, Simon opened the window, hoping that the cool air would sober him up a bit. The air coming through the window was still quite warm for this time of night. “That’s not going to do it,” he muttered. He accelerated from forty miles per hour up to sixty. “Ah, that’s better.”
The lights behind him caught his attention in the rear view mirror. He glanced up to check that the police weren't behind him. Sat in the back seat was Susan, smiling at him. Simon turned round panicking at the sight of her. As he turned, he dragged the steering wheel, pulling the car across to the opposite side of the road.
He didn’t even see the lorry before it crushed him into nothingness. The last thing he saw was the smile on his dead girlfriends face. The last thing he heard was her whisper.
“Together.”
Stag Night
Matt Hickman
One
Karl slowly inched the car down the driveway, if you could even call it a driveway. There was a rough indication of where a drive may have once ran, cracked concrete now overgrown with foliage and weeds. Tree roots stuck up through the deep, cracked earth, causing the suspension on his car to creak and groan as it struggled down the approach road.
Drooping branches and leaves hanging from the tall trees above scraped the windscreen and bodywork and obscured any real view from the car. The further he drove down the path, the more impenetrable the foliage became, branches snapped back into place as he continued his slow progress. The headlights illuminated the way, he could just make out a clearing in the trees a few yards ahead. Attempting to keep the car out of a ditch, he remained in a low gear and moved forward.
Sitting in the seat next to him, his friend Adam sat patiently. Looking out through the passenger window of the car in silence, he took a swig of his energy drink - the sweet, cold liquid making him grimace. His eyes searched through the trees as best they could, he made nothing out other than the overhanging branches and thick tree trunks.
Karl nodded. “Looks like it, up ahead.”
Averting his gaze forward, Adam squinted. In the distance he could make out the faint silhouette of something large; he couldn’t be certain but it looked like the outline of a large building.
Adam checked his watch, the time displayed 11:21 pm.
“Excellent,” he replied. “We have plenty of time.”
&nb
sp; They didn’t speak as Karl drove into the clearing, the trees suddenly opening up above them, the moon and stars illuminating the sky, offering substantial natural light compared to driving through the cover of the trees. They approached the building up ahead, a large cast iron fence ran around the perimeter of the grounds, the battered drive way led to a large steel gate which kept the front of the property enclosed.
Karl looked at Adam. “You want to do the honours?”
Opening the car door, Adam jumped from the vehicle and inspected the gate. A thick chain was wrapped around the bars several times and held in place with a steel padlock. Opening the car boot, he pulled a pair of bolt cutters from inside and returned to the gate. Within seconds, he had cut through the chain and swung the gate open, ready for Karl to drive through onto the grounds.
Karl pulled the car in through the gates and found a make-shift parking space on the front lawn. He placed the handbrake on, switched off the engine and jumped out of the car to join his friend.
Not speaking a word, both men walked towards the building, their hiking boots crunching on the cold soil and gravel beneath their feet. Both men stood in awe at the beauty and size of the building, backlit against the crisp winter sky.
The establishment was monumental. The ornamental, terracotta stonework construction displayed its traditional Victorian splendour. Standing at three levels, its eaves sloped off into the distance, meeting at an apex at the summit of the roof. Bay sash windows – six foot high and elegant – hung from the main elevation and reflected the moonlight. The main entrance was a large, arched doorway that stood between two large ground level windows. Six wooden stairs led up to the solid oak door. Despite its beauty, it looked extremely daunting.
It stood in fairly good repair, despite most of the windows being boarded up and several missing roof tiles. A sign creaked backwards and forwards in the breeze to the right hand side of the stairs, reading in faded white writing – Nocton Hall Hospital.
Adam lit up a cigarette and inhaled, blowing the smoke out. It surrounded them, amplified in the cold night air.
“You think the others will be able to find this place? We got lost three times, remember? I would have rang them with directions, but I’ve had no signal since we came through that little village about fifteen minutes ago.”
Removing his own mobile from his pocket, Karl checked. The screen displayed SOS - he smiled. “Yeah, but don’t you think that just adds to the excitement?”
For years, Karl had been an avid fan of the supernatural, constantly looking for the next stakeout or ghost hunt that would provide him with his very first substantial sighting. He had travelled the entire country, he had done them all; haunted houses, pubs, libraries, even supposedly haunted ghost trains. The most convincing thing that he had seen so far had been a couple of orbs, a few knocking sounds and a cold spot in a castle in Scotland.
It hadn’t stopped him. Undeterred, he firmly believed that there was something out there waiting to be seen. He thrived on it; every time he had been to a location, whether organised or by his own means, his best friend Adam had been by his side.
Their moment was interrupted by the sound of vehicles approaching slowly down the driveway, both men turned and watched as they appeared.
The two cars came bumping down the dirt track as a convoy, the lead car a smart looking family saloon with light silver paint and flash alloy wheels. The car that followed was an old sporty model with lowered suspension and garish paintwork. Karl winced every time the car hit a dip and the suspension dragged along the floor; he expected the car to get stuck or fall apart at any moment.
Both cars pulled up and parked beside Karl’s. Four people spilled out from inside the vehicles, they were all laughing and joking. Karl and Adam greeted the first two men, shaking their hands and cheerfully exchanging banter and back slaps.
Glen, the first man, looked up at the building. “Fucking hell boys, when you said it was creepy, you weren’t joking.”
Mart, the other man, blew air out from between his lips. ”You’re telling me.”
Karl laughed. “It’s perfect, look at it, have you ever seen anywhere as creepy as this?”
“Well, no,” began Glen before a raised voice called from behind them.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me?”
The four men turned and smiled when they saw their friend, Jonny, approaching them from behind. He wore a woollen beanie hat on his head, a thick black puffer jacket and a large joint hung from his mouth.
“Seriously, Karl. I know you love your horror and shit, but it’s meant to be your stag night. Are you really going to drag us around this shit-hole? Wasn’t it bad enough when those two writers turned up last week at your other half’s hen party?”
Jonny’s best friend, Stevie, responded. “I told you, Jonny. Didn’t I say this was going to be a complete load of crap?”
“Hey. You two.” Karl replied. “Yes, it is my stag night, and yes, we are going to look around this place. I gave you the choice if you remember and we all agreed. This tonight, and partying the rest of the weekend.”
Jonny scrunched his face up like a petulant child. “I know but...”
Feeling the glare from the gaze that was given to him by Glen, Mart and Adam, he decided to let it go. Jonny and Stevie were the youngest of the group of friends but they had all been close for years. If something big like Karl’s wedding came up, they definitely wouldn’t miss out on a chance to be there – despite his choice of activities for his stag weekend.
“Oh, alright then, let’s get this over with as quickly as possible, and see if we can go find a strip joint or something.”
The group laughed and all six men slowly made their way towards the entrance, each of them in silence, the feeling of apprehension hung in the air.
“Gentlemen,” Karl began. “Welcome to Nocton Hall Hospital. I've been doing my research and this place has quite the history.”
Jonny laughed. “Oh great, he’s a trainee tour guide now.”
Ignoring the comment, Karl continued. “Originally built in 1841, it began life as a stately manor home. It was rebuilt in the 1930’s. During the first World War it was taken over and used by American forces as a hospital for injured soldiers.”
Mart sighed. “And it’s been shut down ever since?”
“No, it was used for the same purpose during the second World War and more recently during the Gulf War. After that, the building was condemned about twenty years ago after arsonists set fire to it and it was deemed unsafe.”
Jonny blew the smoke out from the drag of his joint, the sickly-sweet smell of marijuana filling the air. He passed the joint to Stevie.
“And you want us to go poking around in there? Are you mad?”
“Don’t worry,” Karl replied. “Just be careful where you step, we will all have our torches. If you want to worry about anything, be worried about the ghosts, this place has had absolutely loads of sightings.”
“And how do you know that?” Stevie asked. “I thought you said it had been closed for the last twenty years?”
“There are loads of reports of ghosts on websites and stuff. Several sightings of medical staff and soldiers have been recorded, and lots of sightings of a little girl playing. It’s believed that she was a servant girl who was killed by the original owner before it became a hospital.”
Standing in silence, the group began to look at each other with uncertainty, a little shaken by what they had been told. Without warning, a sound began to rise from the darkness of the night, startling them all. Karl, Mart and Glen began looking around desperately trying to locate the source of the noise.
Stevie suddenly shouted making the group jump. “Jonny man, you dirty bastard. You stink.”
The group looked at each other in confusion for a split second before they all burst out in laughter, each of them welcoming the sudden lift in mood.
A few moments passed before Karl instructed everyone to get their coats and warm clot
hes from the cars, and to grab their flashlights.
“Take whatever you need now, because we won’t be coming back to the cars until we've finished.”
They all retreated back to their vehicles and returned to the entrance steps with large coats and woollen hats, each man carried a large powerful torch as was the original instructions from Karl. Jonny and Stevie returned to the group, torches tucked under their arms, each of them carrying three plastic tumblers filled half way with a brown liquid. They began to pass them round to their friends.
“What’s this?”
Stevie smiled. “Just a bit of Dutch courage. If we are going in that god forsaken place, we're having a fucking drink first.”
Raising his plastic tumbler above his head, Glen raised a toast. “To Karl - the man condemned.”
Raising their own glasses, the other members of the group called out in unison. “To Karl!”
Downing the contents of their glasses in one go, the alcohol burned as it ran down their throats and into their stomachs. Each of the men let out a heave or cough. Jonny looked at Stevie and winked. Stevie smiled but did not respond.
Two
Karl led the way up the steps, the ancient wood warping and creaking below his feet as the other members followed. Placing the hook of the crowbar between the chains that were wrapped around the handles to the main entrance, he gave a sharp pull. Despite the age of the chains and using all of his sheer strength, they didn’t budge. Two of the others got behind and helped to lever the crowbar; with the combined effort the chain eventually gave way and sagged, dropping to the floor. He looked at his watch, it was 11:45pm.
Game on.
Shouldering the door, Karl gave a shove forward and slowly eased the door open, it pushed inwards with a groan. Each of the men lit up their torches and began to shine the beams in various directions as they entered the building.
The main entrance led into a large opening of hallways, which ran off in every direction. At the centre of the building was a winding rectangular stairway. Old plaster and paint hung off the walls, peeling back to leave exposed brick work and potentially dangerous electrical wires. The smell of dust and decay from years of neglect filled the air. Doors that were once entrances to corridors hung from frames and swung limp. The corridors were littered with old rubble, brick and broken glass, the entire building was an unused construction site. Spray painted in foot high lettering on the wall adjacent to the entrance, graffiti spelled out in blue paint - Abandon Hope!
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