They reached the door, and Seymour pressed his ear to the cold metal, hoping to pick up any sounds from the other side. There were none, which meant that no one was present, or the door was blocking out any noise. If it were the latter, then it would be a problem.
‘Now what?’ Sean whispered, already out of breath.
Seymour brought out the set of keys and knelt down in front of the lock. The first key that drew his attention was the longest one, but this didn’t fit, so he moved on to the next.
‘This is taking too long,’ Sean said. Seymour reached up and grabbed a handful of the man’s scraggly, greasy hair.
‘I’m going as fast as I can,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘So just shut up and keep a lookout. Understand?’
Sean nodded, and Seymour released him. He didn’t want to—he wanted to beat him, to kick him up and down the hallway, and the urge to hurt this man who dared question him was difficult to control—but he couldn’t give in to it. Not just yet.
So he turned again to the job at hand and worked his way through the keys.
‘I’m going back,’ Adrian said. Seymour looked up at him, wide-eyed.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I can’t do this. I need to go back.’
Seymour got to his feet. ‘For God’s sake,’ he said, ‘you need to stop this and open your eyes. Look at the position you are in. Look at your hands, for God’s sake. They’re covered in blood. If you go back, then you take the punishment for what you’ve done. With us, at least you have a chance to get out of here. And why on earth would you want to stay in this hell-hole? Don’t you have any respect for yourself? What they do to us here isn’t right. They don’t want to help, you know that. And you also know that nobody ever leaves here. Not alive, anyway. So make up your mind, because I’m not going to keep having this argument. Do you want to stay here and die, or take a chance at having a life?’
‘I don’t deserve to get out of here,’ Adrian said, his voice quiet. More rage bubbled inside of Seymour, and he struggled to keep it under control. It had only been a few minutes ago that Adrian himself had unleashed such rage—which impressed Seymour—but now he was acting more like Sean, more like a husk of a real person.
Submissive and pathetic.
‘No one deserves to be stuck here, Adrian,’ Seymour said, going against his instincts and trying a more friendly approach. ‘I don’t care what you’ve done. So stop wallowing and pull yourself together. Sean and I need your help, because we sure as hell don’t deserve to be trapped in here.’
Seymour then turned away from Adrian and again bent down, working on the lock, trying key after key. Thankfully, Adrian didn’t go anywhere and just loomed over him, looking lost, but still present. That would do for now.
Eventually, a key fit, sliding smoothly into place and taking hold. Seymour held his breath, slowly turned it, and was rewarded with an audible click.
The three of them looked at each other, knowing the time was at hand.
‘Well,’ Seymour said. ‘All or nothing now. Are we all in this together?’
The truth was that he certainly wasn’t in this with them, and would gladly throw them to the wolves if needed, but he wanted them to think that he could be trusted.
‘I’m in,’ Sean said.
‘Good,’ Seymour answered as he got to his feet. He looked to Adrian. ‘And you?’
There was a frustrating pause, and Seymour half-expected him to go crawling back to his room and wait for his master’s punishment, like a disobedient dog. But the answer surprised him.
‘Okay,’ Adrian said. ‘Let’s get out of here.’
‘Excellent,’ Seymour said.
The door gave out a slow creak as he pushed it open.
Chapter 28
The door from Ward B led them through a shorter hallway, one lined with wood panelling. On the walls above the panelling were pictures and paintings of men in suits. Adrian only recognised the person in the last photograph, the one nearest a wooden door at the end of the corridor. It was a black and white photo of Director Templeton, who stood poised for the camera.
But Adrian ignored the pictures and instead focused on escaping, something that would have seemed absurd to him less than an hour ago. And now he didn’t have a choice as he, quite literally, had blood on his hands. The wet, sticky substance was already starting to dry and flake, darkening in colour.
Fuck.
How had things spiralled out of control so much?
Seymour led them to the door, which they quietly opened, looking through to see a large, dark, open space. The Main Hall was cluttered with ill-matching desks and bookcases, and loose papers and books were strewn everywhere, stacked on desktops and crammed into the overflowing shelving.
Whenever Adrian had been brought through here previously, it had always been during daytime hours. Now, however, in the dead of night, the vacant office seemed eerie.
They stepped into the space to see other doors, like the one they stood in front of, cut into the walls of the hall, both on the same side and opposite. And to the back of the room, Adrian saw a large, metal elevator door, painted a dull red. It seemed out of place with the decor of the rest of the room, as did the smaller, single door of the same colour farther to its right.
But it was the other end of the Main Hall where everyone's attention was drawn.
Towards the exit.
A double door set with long, full-height, glazed panels. Beyond the glass, like every other possible point of escape in this place, Adrian could make out the familiar sight of those restrictive bars. There would be no breaking through, so they had to hope one of the keys they had would unlock it.
They quickly ran up to the large entrance door, and Adrian could feel his heart pounding.
Would escape really be this easy? And where the hell was everyone?
Granted, the office staff probably wouldn’t work through the night, but the route from their ward—save for the orderly Adrian had killed—was too straightforward.
Something didn’t seem right with all of this.
Seymour didn’t wait to be asked, however, and started trying every key he had on the front door, working through systematically.
Adrian and Sean looked around, nervously. It was quieter here than on their ward, the background sounds of the damned drowned out by the thick metal doors and walls that separated the place from the individual wards.
‘No,’ Seymour said, frantically trying to jam the last key into the lock.
But it was no use.
‘What?’ Sean asked, though it was apparent what the problem was.
‘None of them fit,’ Seymour said, a hint of panic now creeping into his voice.
‘How can that be?’ Sean asked.
Seymour answered, but not verbally. He dropped the keys and let loose with a punch, catching Sean on the jaw and sending him flailing to the floor.
‘Because none of them fit, you cretin!’ he shouted.
‘Quiet,’ Adrian snapped, ‘someone will hear us.’
Seymour suddenly turned on him, grabbing a handful of Adrian’s clothing. ‘Don’t tell me what to do,’ he said through gritted teeth. Thankfully, however, he lowered the volume in his voice a little. Sean slowly got to his feet, nursing his jaw.
‘If you keep shouting,’ Adrian said, keeping his own anger in check, ‘then you’ll draw people to us. We’ve been lucky so far.’
Seymour let go of Adrian, but did not step away. ‘Well, now what? If we don’t have the keys to get out, then we’re in trouble.’
‘What do you mean, now what?’ Adrian asked. ‘This whole thing was your idea.’
‘Well, we’re out of options. We need to go back.’
‘Go back?’ Adrian asked, grabbing Seymour’s arm. ‘We can’t go back. There is a dead guard in my room with his throat ripped open. Did you forget about that?’
‘I didn’t forget,’ Seymour said with a sneer. ‘But it’s your problem. I can go back to my cell, and y
ou can take the fall for all of this. Nothing to do with me or Sean. Isn’t that right, Sean?’
Seymour turned to look at Sean, a self-satisfied grin on his face. Adrian was raging—there was no way he was going to allow Seymour to lay the blame for all of this at his feet, or let the fat man carry on like nothing had happened.
He would make the bloated fucker pay.
Visions of tearing open his throat surged through Adrian’s mind, and he clenched his fists, ready to indulge.
‘Quick,’ Sean suddenly said, ‘people are coming.’
Adrian listened, then heard it too. As much as he wanted to hurt Seymour, there wasn’t time right now.
‘What do we do?’ Sean asked, his voice trembling.
‘Shit,’ Seymour said. ‘We can’t just stay here.’
‘But we can’t go back,’ Sean said. ‘They’ll see what he did.’ He pointed to Adrian. ‘And they will know it was us.’
Adrian knew there was no way out now. By killing that guard, then following Seymour blindly, he had doomed himself.
He had nothing left but time, and likely only a small amount of it. Still, maybe there was a way to avoid detection for a little while longer.
That meant picking a door and finding somewhere to hide to regroup. Ideally, a door that would not lead to a heavily populated area.
‘There,’ Adrian said, pointing to the other side of the room to a door next to the elevator.
‘Why would we go through there?’ Seymour asked, but Adrian didn’t feel the need to answer. Instead, he just snatched the ring of keys from Seymour’s hand and ran over. ‘Hey!’ Adrian heard Seymour yell, but he didn’t stop. He didn’t care if they followed him or stayed where they were—the hell with them.
If Adrian couldn’t avoid whatever repercussions lay ahead, then he could at least postpone them for as long as possible. As it turned out, he wasn’t going to be alone—he heard Seymour’s and Sean’s rapid footsteps as they followed behind.
When he reached the door, Adrian noticed further details—the dark red paint had blistered and flaked, revealing rusted metal beneath, and there were also what appeared to be gouges, or deep scratch marks, cut into its surface. Adrian lifted the ring of keys he had taken from Seymour and took hold of the longest one, somehow knowing that it—distinguished from the others—would work.
The key slid easily into the lock, and when Adrian twisted it, the lock clicked open.
‘What’s the point of going through here?’ Seymour asked. ‘It doesn’t help us get out.’
‘If we stay here we get caught, simple as that,’ Adrian explained, though he still wanted to strangle Seymour. Adrian then pushed the door open to reveal a stone staircase running down below, twisting back on itself. The walls had small electric lamps on them that burned a dull yellow, but were too weak to give off any meaningful light.
‘What’s down there?’ Sean asked.
‘Don’t know,’ Adrian said, ‘but you can stay here if you want.’
‘I’m not going,’ Seymour said, crossing his arms defiantly. That was actually music to Adrian’s ears, but then they heard something that changed everything—a door in the Main Hall opening, from Ward B, and frantic, approaching voices.
‘Get the director. We need to find whoever did this,’ someone yelled.
Clearly there had been orderlies patrolling the group’s ward, but had been behind them as they made their escape. Now, however, it seemed that they had found Adrian’s handiwork, and they were furious.
‘Shit,’ Seymour said.
Adrian, Seymour, and Sean quickly slipped through the door, and Adrian pulled it closed behind them, locking it as soon as it was shut.
‘They’re going to find us,’ Sean said, his voice quivering.
Adrian turned and looked down the spiral staircase, seeing it twist into darkness. And from that dark, strange moans and cries drifted upwards to meet them. Not the usual shrieks of the patients who resided here, but something entirely different.
And it came from the only way forward.
‘Let’s go,’ Adrian said, and they began their descent.
Chapter 29
Reid did not want to be back in this room.
Even being surrounded by Templeton and his selection of privileged orderlies did not make him feel safe here.
None of them were safe in the presence of that thing.
Templeton and his group all looked upon this husk of a person in awe, some seeming positively excited to be in attendance.
First timers, he guessed.
‘I cannot believe I am here,’ one of the orderlies said.
‘You have done well, Brother Andrew,’ Templeton said, like a teacher praising a young pupil. ‘But remember we are here for a reason. I would like you all to be steadfast and resolute.’
‘Understood,’ Brother Andrew replied, straightening up his body—all that was missing was a salute.
Reid looked back to the body of Robert Wilson on the steel bed and saw that things had changed in here since his last visit. The body had bloated somewhat, but that wasn’t all—those thread-like tendrils that ran from its skin had grown in girth as well as number, no longer resembling fine hairs, and now more like string. Their reach was increasing as well, some even running up the walls to the ceiling above. Whatever mutation was taking place in the room, it was growing stronger, and was clearly far from finished.
‘So why are we here?’ Reid asked.
But it was not Templeton who answered.
Robert Wilson’s eyelids slowly parted, revealing dark eyes below—orbs that swam in black. His mouth opened, and he spoke with a breathless voice. ‘I… see… your… wife… and… child.’
Reid looked to Templeton, who raised his eyebrows and smiled.
The thing that seemed to be speaking through Robert Wilson went on.
‘They… still… burn.’
‘What do you mean?’ Reid asked Templeton. ‘Is this some kind of trick?’
‘It is no trick,’ Templeton said in response. ‘You may want to listen to what is being said.’
‘They… still… suffer. Outside… of… your… world. And… in… mine.’
‘Lies,’ Reid snapped.
‘They… blame… you. You… abandoned… them.’
‘Tell it to stop!’ Reid shouted at Templeton. ‘Enough of this nonsense.’
Templeton just shook his head.
‘It… is… time,’ Wilson said, and Reid was unsure as to whom he was referring. ‘I… grow… stronger. More… of… my… blood… must… flow.’
‘Increase the administration?’ Templeton asked. ‘We will need to draw more from you.’
‘Take… it. Bestow… my… knowledge… unto… others. Increase… my… flock. It… must… be… done… now.’
‘It will be,’ Templeton said, and he turned to Jones. ‘Do it.’
Jones nodded and retrieved a large case from the corner of the room. He placed it on the floor and opened it, revealing an assortment of needles, tubing, clear plastic containers, and plastic drip bags inside.
‘What’s happening?’ Reid asked, feeling utterly confused.
Templeton smiled. ‘It’s time to step things up.’
Chapter 30
The steep, dark stairwell had taken them down to a subterranean level and brought them out into a long, wide passageway that, to Adrian, had more than a passing resemblance to a dungeon.
The walls were stone, as was the curved ceiling, but the ground they walked on was dirt. Torches were fixed to the walls, and there were grated doors at regular intervals along both walls all the way to the end of the long passageway.
Ominous grunts, moans, and some decidedly inhuman sounds could be heard from whatever lay beyond the metal doors.
‘It isn’t safe down here,’ Sean said, and Adrian had to agree. While he’d never felt particularly safe in the asylum, the fear in him now spiked, and his thoughts turned back to the abomination he had seen outside of his room a couple o
f nights ago. Were the things inside these cells down here similar creatures? If so, that meant the group were in real danger.
‘I say we go back,’ Seymour said.
The idea was appealing, but going back meant certain capture, so instead, Adrian studied the thick metal bars on the doors—they looked strong and sturdy, and evidently had been sufficient to hold back whatever was inside. As long as that remained the case, were they really in any immediate danger?
‘Go, then,’ Adrian told him.
‘And you’re just going to stay down here, are you?’ Seymour asked.
‘What else am I supposed to do, Seymour? You made it perfectly clear what my situation is. If I go back, then I get blamed for what happened to that orderly—’
‘Well, you did kill him,’ Seymour snapped.
‘Only because you brought him to me. I was happy being left alone,’ Adrian said and pushed Seymour, who backpedaled a few steps.
‘Stop,’ Sean said meekly. ‘This won’t help.’
But Seymour—never one to keep his anger in check or to think things through—ignored him and shoved Adrian in return. ‘Don’t you dare lay your hands on me,’ he said. ‘Typical of someone like you, always blaming others for your mess.’
‘Typical of someone like you,’ Adrian countered, ‘to always use others for your own benefit.’ He lunged forward, thrusting his palms into Seymour’s chest again, pushing him as hard as he could and this time sending Seymour toppling to the floor. ‘I’m warning you,’ Adrian said, ‘don’t push me any further.’
Seymour looked enraged and slowly got back up to his feet. Adrian braced himself for an attack. ‘Or what?’ Seymour asked. ‘You’ll tear my throat open too? Like you did to that orderly?’
‘I might,’ Adrian said.
‘I’d like to see you try.’
Seymour then ran at Adrian, and the two wrestled with each other, each trying to gain the upper hand. As they fought, they stumbled over to one of the side walls of the corridor. There, Seymour managed to get the upper-hand and forced Adrian back until Adrian was pushed into the cold metal of one of the doors.
The Extreme Horror Collection Page 33
