The Shuttered Ward

by Jennifer Rose McMahon

  My finger traced along the eroded carvings and I read aloud, “236.”

  Kaitlin read hers at the same time. “235.”

  The numbers echoed in the air around us, repeating themselves over and over in my mind. Their familiarity awakened every last nerve as I searched for their meaning.

  “235236235236.” Kaitlin’s voice brought my attention back as she chanted the string of numbers without end.

  “Stop it, Kaitlin!” I covered my ears and stepped away, only to trip on another stone just below the number marker. “What the fuck?” I cried in disoriented frustration.

  I dropped again, then pulled the moss off the larger hidden stone. I exposed the shiny edges right away. Newer, polished granite, like the stones used for modern grave markers, probably installed more recently.

  “Kaitlin, search,” I commanded. “Uncover the other stone!”

  The moss pulled away in one clean slab, exposing the precise machine-cut carvings. I brushed away the dirt, then stood back in horror.

  Kaitlin jumped up at the same time, whimpering.

  A scream grew in my throat as I stared at the stone. “No. No. No.” The words purged out of me as I grabbed my hair in terror.

  As Kaitlin comprehended the situation, her screams met mine. We reached for each other in a desperate embrace.

  As we stared down at the stones, we read the horrifying truth of our situation.

  Grace Frances Parker

  1902-1920

  Kaitlin ‘Missy’ Edwards

  1901-1920

  We dropped to our knees with inconsolable screams.

  A gateway to our pasts had been opened in our brains, and there was nothing we could do to close it. We’d seen glimpses of it—in the ward, at the tree, and now the truth lay in the ground beneath our feet.

  Trapped in limbo. Forgotten. Lost forever in the asylum.

  I tore at the moss on the stone next to mine, knowing exactly what I would find.

  I ripped at it, exposing the shiny granite marker.

  Emma Grangley

  1902-1920

  My vision narrowed to a pinpoint of focus as my brain allowed the window to a past life to remain open. I pressed at my head to close the gaping portal, to end the crazy dream that was my reality.

  Kaitlin fought it, too. She crouched onto her knees, rocking and screaming, calling out the numbers over and over.

  “235236237235236237.”

  237 was a new part of the sequence. I kicked at Emma’s old stone marker, exposing the corroded numbers on it.

  237.

  In a flash, my mind traveled back to the ward. To the corridor with rows of narrow doors. I was back in the small room with the cross-shaped window. The room I’d fallen into earlier. But this time, the door was closed, and I was trapped within it.

  I leapt to the window, then pressed my hands onto the cross-shape and pulled my face to it. Staring out in bewilderment, I looked into the hall at the room across from mine. In an instant, hands reached into the other cross-shaped window and a face appeared in it. Kaitlin’s.

  I looked over her door, gaping at the number plaque just above it.

  At the same time, her eyes lifted above my door. Horror washed over her face.

  Her room number was listed on the plaque. 235.

  My eyes jumped to the door next to hers. The number was 237. Emma’s. And in an instant, I knew mine had to be 236.

  And that was how I would forever be remembered. Patient number 236. No name. No family. Just a number. My heart plummeted from my chest as I fought the truth of my existence. The existence that left me wandering, searching for rescue from the ward.

  “Let me out of here,” I screamed with every ounce of strength I had. “I don’t belong here! Let me out!”

  Kaitlin’s shrieks matched mine as we shook on our doors in sheer terror.

  How could they do this to us? How was there no one who could help us? We were held prisoner, trapped within the ward. And there was no way out.

  “Help me, Grace,” Kaitlin screamed. “Get me out of here. We don’t belong here. They’ll be coming for us soon!”

  Her words silenced me for a moment. It was true, they’d be coming.

  Then my screams grew louder and more hysterical as I feared for what was to become of us. Emma’s door was slightly open. She wasn’t in isolation anymore. They’d already come for her.

  And we were next.

  My screams mixed with Kaitlin’s into a frenzy of mind-shattering panic.

  “You will stop at once.” The sound of an older woman’s voice filled the corridor with its brazen tone.

  I jolted toward the sound to see an angry woman in an old-fashioned nurse’s outfit stomping down the corridor with a glowing lantern in her hand. A port-wine stain blotched her forehead, and her narrow eyes held empty disdain.

  “You will stop at once,” she repeated. “Or be sent to the hole in restraints for another week.”

  Her evil voice drowned out in the depths of the corridor from the insane sound of our desperate screams.

  Epilogue

  My arms dragged down with the weight of restraints, and I pulled to break free. Weakness moved through my veins like morphine, and I stopped struggling against its soothing calm.

  Braden’s voice echoed in the back of my mind, making me smile at its familiar tone.

  “I don’t know,” he stated to someone unknown as the sound of a siren filled the air. “I just found them like that in the field, screaming.” He paused, seeming to gather his thoughts. “They were inconsolable. Just screaming.” Fear crept out of his voice as he struggled to keep the shake steady.

  The cemetery!

  It all flooded back into my fogged awareness.

  “Where’s Kaitlin?” The words bounced through my mind, but I couldn’t get them to leave my mouth.

  Where was she?

  Where was I?

  I pulled on my restraints again as fear crept through me like an evil demon.

  “They were afraid of something.” Braden’s voice broke through again. “Like something had been…chasing them. Hunting them.” His volume trailed off into near silence.

  He leaned in closer to me. I opened my eyes as much as possible, to narrow slits. Light poured in, blinding me. Flashing red and blue lights. Medical equipment all around.

  “Grace,” he whispered. “You’re safe now.”

  I pulled on the familiar restraints one more time.

  And then I whispered, “Am I?”

  The End.

  Don’t miss the sample chapters of Book Two, The Excited Ward, at the end of this novel.

  To purchase go to:

  The Excited Ward

  Afterword

  I hope you enjoyed Book One of the Asylum Savant Series, The Shuttered Ward.

  Be sure to check out the sample chapters of Book Two, The Excited Ward, at the end of this novel.

  Also, visit my website for more information about this series and my other books.

  Thank you!

  www.jenniferrosemcmahon.com

  To sign up for my newsletter:

  https://www.subscribepage.com/f1p9w6

  Also by Jennifer Rose McMahon

  PIRATE QUEEN SERIES

  Bohermore, Book One

  Inish Clare, Book Two

  Ballycroy, Book Three

  Rockfleet, Novella (Book 2.5)

  IRISH MYSTIC LEGENDS SERIES

  Legend Hunter, Book One

  Curse Raider, Book Two

  Truth Seer, Book Three

  ASYLUM SAVANT SERIES

  The Shuttered Ward, Book One

  The Excited Ward, Book Two

  The Forgotten Ward, Book Three

  Acknowledgments

  A huge thank you to my urban explorer partner and eldest son, Rory McMahon. For your enthusiasm for this story to be told and the adventurous research that brought it to life in a way that never would have been possible without your help. Thank you, me boy, for the camaraderie, sup
port, and love.

  Thank you to Cynthia Shepp for her amazing editing super powers and for meeting tight deadlines while juggling preparations for her wedding.

  Thank you to Rebecca Frank, designer goddess, for her fabulous book covers.

  A very special thank you to my amazing beta-readers. Several high school students joined my book club to review the manuscript for The Shuttered Ward. With red pens in hand, they critiqued the pages like masters and kept my prose relevant. They were also never shy in writing “awk” in any area that sounded or felt awkward. Thank you so much to Abby Gordon, Alicia Dean, Mei Kawabe, Maddie Klepper, Samira Kerkach, and Rebecca DeBenedictis.

  And lastly, to John Thompson, Chair of the Medfield State Hospital Building and Grounds Committee, for sharing the history of the institution and providing a top-notch tour around the grounds. Many of your stories are woven into this book and I hope you can find them all. Thank you so much for your warm welcome, and your generosity of time and knowledge.

  About the Author

  Jennifer Rose McMahon is a USA Today Bestselling Author who has been creating her Pirate Queen series, Irish Mystic Legends series, and Asylum Savants series since her college days abroad in Ireland. Her passion for Irish legends, ancient cemeteries, medieval ghost stories, and abandoned asylums has fueled her adventurous story telling, while her husband’s decadent brogue carries her imagination through the centuries. When she’s not in her own world writing about castles and curses, she can be found near Boston in the local coffee shop, yoga studio, or at the beach…most often answering to the name ‘Mom’ by her fab children four.

  For more information

  www.jenniferrosemcmahon.com

  info@jenniferrosemcmahon.com

  Sample Chapters of Book Two, The Excited Ward

  THE EXCITED WARD

  Book Two, Asylum Savants Series

  CHAPTER ONE

  The sound of my shallow breathing filled the darkness and grew louder as I pulled on my restraints. Pain shot up my arms causing me to wince. Whatever it was that had made them think tying me down was necessary, it couldn’t have been that bad. Even if I had lost my mind at the cemetery--screaming my head off, that still wouldn't be enough to justify this level of barbaric treatment. I swore to myself I’d sue their asses once I was released.

  I tugged at my wrist again and hissed in pain. My skin burned like fire from the friction and I wiggled my legs instead. My ankles screamed out with the same raw sting causing me to jump. But my shoulders lifted only a few inches before I fell back down from the pressure of more restraints. One push of my hips confirmed they were strapped down too.

  My heart rate shot to full panic as I searched through the echoing darkness.

  "Kaitlin? Are you there?" My hushed voice bounced through the room and a rustle came from the far side.

  "Grace?" Her voice scratched out of her.

  "Shit, Kaitlin. Where are we?" I whispered. "No lights or monitors? Is this some form of concussion therapy or something?" I stared into the blackness listening for sounds of nurses in the hallway.

  She rustled more and whimpered in the cold shadows. "I can't move. I'm strapped to the bed."

  "I know. Me too." My dry voice cracked. "All I remember is the flashing lights of the ambulance. And Braden’s face. But that's all. They must have drugged us when we got here, to calm us down."

  "My wrists are sticky," she murmured. "They burn. I think my straps are too tight. They're cutting into me."

  How could they have not noticed the restraints were hurting us? Our wrists and ankles were injured from the abrasive ties. Someone was going to be in a lot of trouble for neglecting us when we clearly needed a much higher level of attention and care.

  It was all to blame on our heads, no doubt. Our concussions. We'd pushed ourselves too far, to the point of needing to be re-admitted to the hospital. Again. Unfortunately, this time, it probably looked pretty bad. I was sure Braden had told the medics everything he saw at the asylum and from what I could remember, it included a lot of running and screaming.

  I squeezed my eyes shut to remember more and pictured the abandoned asylum. Before the ambulance came, Kaitlin and I had just escaped from the boarded-up Excited Ward. It had tried to keep us lost inside its walls but we were finally able to break out.

  My head hurt from the effort of conjuring the memory. There was hysteria, but it was in the moment when we found the hidden cemetery that it all came crushing down on us.

  Flashes of the grave markers burst through my mind, reminding me of the most frightening moment of my life--the vision of my own death.

  I sucked in a gulp of air, remembering the terror that ripped at my soul as I saw my full name on the gravestone. Kaitlin's too. And then Emma's. We were all there beneath my feet. Together.

  Poor Braden. I thought back to the lost expression on his face. He'd probably assumed I'd officially lost my mind. And in that moment, I had.

  But I was thinking with clarity now. Too many coincidences had lined up, making the events seem like more than they were. Like they were real.

  I wouldn't go back to the abandoned asylum now, I vowed. It was too volatile. It held too much energy somehow, like it was haunted. Or evil. Almost like it wouldn’t let us go.

  "I don't want to go back there, Kaitlin. Ever," I whispered as a tear fell from my eye and trickled into my ear.

  Then a stream of tears rolled from my eyes and pooled in my ears as I thought more about the crazy events at the asylum and the situation that I now found myself in. The tears made me itch. I shook my head to help dry them but the itch only intensified. There was nothing I could do. I couldn't reach up.

  "Fuck." I twitched on my cold metal bed. "What the fuck is going on? Nurse!" I called out. "Nurse. We're awake. We need help."

  I waited for a response--footsteps, beepers, lights. Anything.

  Kaitlin whimpered in her bed.

  "Nurse! Help us!" I yelled louder.

  Finally, the sound of hard heels clomping down steps filled the space, then moved closer to the door.

  "You will stop at once!" The brazen sound of an older woman's voice blasted through the door. "Or you'll remain in the hole for another week!"

  #

  My body stiffened from the cruelty in her tone. The familiar, harsh stabbing of her voice smothered my hopes that everything would be okay. And then, there was no mistake, everything was absolutely not okay.

  I held my breath until her footsteps moved away from the door and clomped back up the stairs.

  "Kaitlin?" I whimpered.

  But there was no answer. Only quiet sounds of crying.

  "It's okay, Kaitlin. It's not real." My voice shook from the shock of hearing the woman's threat.

  I didn't need to see the woman to know there was a mark of a port-wine stain on her forehead. I'd seen her before, in the flashbacks from the boarded-up ward when we were trapped inside. Her old-fashioned nurse's cap and the glow of her rattling lantern next to her face taunted me. She'd hunted us in the Excited Ward and tormented us with those exact same words.

  "We're sleeping," I whispered. "They must have sedated us to help our brains heal. The darkness and the silence help too."

  I convinced myself of our safety with my reassuring words to Kaitlin. I'd heard of this before, induced coma. It sounded like a big deal, but honestly, in our condition at the cemetery, I wouldn't blame them for knocking us out for a while.

  My body shook from the damp cold as I watched shapes in the room begin to take form. Dull light entered through a narrow window high up on the back wall, allowing me to see shadows of details in the room. Dawn's light grew brighter by the minute and I blinked as my eyes adjusted.

  At first, I noticed the shape of the door and medical equipment by our beds. The silent monitors must have been specialized for our symptoms, with no beeping and no lights. I was grateful for the high-tech instruments but still needed to understand why we were restrained to such a high degree. Embarrassment washe
d over me as I considered what the medical staff must have thought when we'd first arrived—as if we were a threat to ourselves or others.

  "Kaitlin, the sun's rising," I said. "We're going to be okay. Just hang on while your brain clears of whatever meds they gave us."

  Her choppy breathing and sniffles were her only response. Poor Kaitlin. She was terrified by our predicament.

  As the morning light grew brighter, scattered streams of illumination zig-zagged through the small lead-glass window, sending dusty beams throughout the room. The walls remained dark though and the objects within held their shadowy form. I had expected bright white and sterile stainless steel of a hospital room and squeezed my eyes shut to reset my vision.

  "Please. Please. Please," I whispered to myself.

  Please be normal when I open my eyes.

  I snuck one eye open first, then the other burst wide and I stared all around the room. Damp stone walls surrounded us, dripping with moisture that ran toward a dirt floor. I gasped in horror at the unsanitary conditions and my gaze darted toward the door. Its heavy wooden features assaulted my senses with rusted iron hardware and lack of any window to see out.

  Frozen from fear, my head refused to move as I forced my eyes sideways to look at Kaitlin. Trailing across the room, my vision fell on one of the machines between us. Instead of a device displaying heart rates and respiration, it was an old wooden table that held a metal tray of large needles protruding from glass vials and other old-fashioned medical supplies from at least a hundred years ago. A stack of large metal bowls sat on the ground leaning on one of the legs of the table.

  "What the fuck?" My voice caught in my throat as my eyes jumped to Kaitlin.

  She stared at me with wild-eyes as if they were about to bug out of her head. Her cheeks were sunken in and dark circles shadowed her eyes. Her grey hospital gown had blood stains on it from the wounds on her wrists. Her restraints had cut her up bad and her ankles showed the same level of injury.