A resort town in cheery America is a major holiday destination that sits upon the shores of the beautiful Lake Toluca. It's a fun and fantastic location with plenty to see and do whether as one of our many wonderful tourists or as brand new residents. Catch a film or theatrical production at Artaud Theatre then retire to Annie's Bar for drinks with friends. Check out the Lakeside Amusement Park and see the historical Lighthouse that is still in operation certain days of the year. Spend a romantic evening on the Observation Deck or an evening at Pete's Bowl-o-Rama. Or take a stroll through Rosewater Park.
There's lots to see and do and that's not even mentioning White Claudia, The Order, skinned dogs, alien geometries that occasionally warp the town, nor the psychologically-induced misery and torments that spring fully formed into existence while walking the merry streets.
Welcome!
"Not again," mutters Murray. Once he and Craig are inside the stairwell, he silently shuts and locks the door behind them, then takes the crowbar back. "The last time that siren went off, the whole hospital changed. We'd better get moving." He leads the way down the stairs.
"It was still the hospital," says Murray, "but it suddenly got all rusty and old, and there were monsters around. Before that it was just a normal place, except for a couple of muscleheads trying to put the squeeze on me. Those same guys were the cops who let us out of jail, but they sure weren't acting like cops when I first met them. Hey, maybe the siren means the hospital's changing back."
Craig gives him a doubtful look. The two of them pause for a moment, realising at the same time that they keep passing landings like half-turns in stairwells but no true landings with doorways out. "I wonder what...."
There's a woman's scream above them, a mix of fear and rage, and the sound of heeled shoes striking cement.
"That'll be the nurse," hisses Murray. "Keep going, quickly, but try not to make noise." He picks up the pace as he descends the seemingly endless stairs. There's got to be a bottom somewhere, right? he thinks.
"Okay, this is just ridiculous," mutters Murray. He signals a halt and listens for signs of pursuit as he fishes a penny out of the pocket where he keeps his change. He drops it down the shaft in the middle of the stairwell to try to determine how far down it goes.
The coin falls down and Craig peers over the railing to look for it, moments before it cracks down on his head and slides off, spinning on its way down before striking the linoleum with a firm crack.
Murray can hear the footsteps of the woman jerkily moving back and up the steps with an exhaled and quiet "Nooooo...."
Everything is silent and still. It's as though the entire hospital is paused on the cusp of something terrible. They make their way slowly down the steps, their breathing noisy in the confined silence to their strained ears, though surely it couldn't be heard beyond their little shared position. They make it down onto the ground floor. Everything is in such a state of disrepair. Everything seems somehow off. As though everything has been leading to this. But what, precisely will this be?
"I don't like this," mutters Craig. The hairs on the nape of his neck and arms are standing on end. There's a strange static cling quality to the air.
There is something coming. Someplace they will go.
Murray bends down and scoops up the penny. "I'm keeping this one," he says. "It's lucky." He doesn't put it back in the pocket that holds all of his other change, as then it would just get mixed in and he'd never be able to tell it from them. Instead, he puts it in a different pocket. I'm not usually superstitous, he thinks. Then again, I'm not usually trapped in some other world or dimension or whatever it is filled with horrible monsters and fog and stuff. He approaches the door leading out of the stairwell and puts his ear to it.
The door opens easily into the darkened gloom of a graffitti marked hallway. Some of the words catch his eye. They remind him so much of some of the lines that he fed desperate parents, betrayed spouses, and eager employers throughout the years though perhaps that was all by accident. Perhaps it meant nothing. The hallway stretches in both directions, longer than he expected, as though somehow dilated and expanded. There is no one out here, though. No one but himself.
can't find her Too dark to see What do you mean?it doesn't look good,but I can't prove that he 555 610 4342 doesn't want to be found She was in his bed.IN his bed. didn't see anything else I wanted to find something so I went inside bought a bag in an alley from a not sure what was insideI'm not sure what you meanI'm meant to be here I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this I'm sorry sorry sorry
Almost unconsciously, Murray takes out his phone and dials the number. Maybe the message is meant for him specifically. It doesn't make much sense, but nothing in this place does. Whether it's directed to him or not, though, he feels like he has to know who is on the other end of that phone number.
On the third ring, the phone picks up and there's a long and crackling silence before a little girl's voice ask: "Mommy? Is that you? Mommy? .... can't wait any longer."
"I'm sorry, I'm not your mommy," says Murray, "but maybe I can help you find her. My name is Murray, and I'm a private eye.' He thinks back to the other mysterious phone call he had when he dialed a number he'd found in this hospital. "Are you Katie?"
