The Ward Below

The asylum had been abandoned for thirty-seven years.

Everyone in Blackwood knew why.

Blackwood Psychiatric Hospital sat at the end of a dead road, surrounded by trees so thick that even sunlight seemed reluctant to enter. Three of its four floors remained standing, though the uppermost had partially collapsed. The windows were boarded. Ivy strangled the walls. Rusted ambulances sat beneath a crumbling overhang beside the emergency entrance.

The front doors were chained shut.

And yet, every few months, someone claimed they saw patients standing behind the second-floor windows.

Sometimes they waved.

Sometimes they screamed.

Sometimes they simply stared.

That was why five people had come.

Five people, three cameras, six hours of battery life, and absolutely no permission.

Jenna Vale stood in front of the camera, smiling.

She was twenty-nine, confident, composed, and very good at pretending she wasn't afraid.

“Welcome back to After Midnight,” she said. “Tonight, we're investigating Blackwood Psychiatric Hospital, one of the most notoriously haunted locations in the state.”

Behind her, Derek adjusted the main camera.

Lena checked the batteries in her EMF meter.

Owen attached an audio recorder to his vest.

Marcus stood beside the rusted ambulance bay, staring at the asylum.

“Tell me again why we're doing this?”

“Because you're getting paid,” Jenna said.

“That's not a good enough reason.”

Derek laughed.

Marcus pointed at him.

“See? He's laughing now. In three hours he'll be screaming.”

“I'm not screaming.”

“You screamed at a raccoon last week.”

“That raccoon had a knife.”

“It was a leaf.”

Jenna smiled at the camera.

“Blackwood closed in 1989 after a series of unexplained patient deaths. According to local reports, several patients vanished from locked rooms. Others claimed the hospital staff were conducting experiments beneath the building.”

“That's not in any official records,” Lena said.

Jenna looked toward her.

“No.”

“Because it's probably bullshit.”

Marcus nodded.

“Excellent. Glad we're all professionals.”

A sound came from the asylum.

A faint metallic knock.

Everyone stopped.

CLANG.

Another.

CLANG.

CLANG.

Owen slowly raised his head.

“Did you hear that?”

Marcus looked at the building.

“Yep.”

“What do you think it was?”

Marcus smiled nervously.

“Something that's going to murder us.”

Jenna laughed.

Nobody else did.

Owen stared at the second floor.

“Guys.”

They followed his gaze.

A figure stood behind one of the broken windows.

A little girl.

She wore a white hospital gown.

Her dark hair hung around her face.

She was staring directly at them.

Jenna's smile vanished.

“Is that...”

The girl raised one hand.

She waved.

Then disappeared.

Derek lowered his camera.

“Okay.”

Marcus swallowed.

“That's... that's pretty good.”

Lena looked at him.

“What?”

“Whoever's doing that has excellent timing.”

“Marcus.”

“Yeah?”

“There's no one else here.”

His smile disappeared.

The chains had been cut years ago.

The front doors opened with a groan.

Inside, the asylum smelled like wet plaster, rust, and something metallic.

Their flashlights swept across abandoned wheelchairs and overturned beds.

The walls were covered in peeling paint.

Patient names had been scratched into the plaster.

Some were ancient.

Others looked fresh.

Lena stopped.

“Guys.”

Everyone turned.

She pointed.

MARCUS.

The name had been carved into the wall.

Marcus stared at it.

“That wasn't there in the photos.”

Jenna frowned.

“You sure?”

“I've seen the photos.”

Derek approached.

“Maybe somebody knew we were coming.”

Marcus shook his head.

“No one knew we were coming.”

Another name appeared farther down the wall.

JENNA.

Then...

LENA.

DEREK.

OWEN.

Nobody spoke.

Owen slowly raised his camera.

“I'm recording this.”

A soft sound came from behind them.

A woman's voice.

“Don't.”

They spun around.

Nothing.

Lena raised the EMF meter.

The numbers climbed.

The meter began screaming.

Then it died.

“That's impossible,” Lena whispered.

Marcus looked at her.

“What?”

“There isn't anything electrical in this building.”

From somewhere upstairs came a loud metallic crash.

Then another.

CLANG.

CLANG.

CLANG.

Jenna looked at the others.

“We stay together.”

A pause.

“Okay?”

Everyone nodded.

They moved deeper inside.

The children's ward was on the second floor.

The door was painted red.

Across it, someone had written:

DON'T LET THEM IN.

Marcus stared at it.

“Who is them?”

The door slowly opened.

Nobody touched it.

Inside were dozens of tiny beds.

Most had collapsed beneath years of dust.

One hadn't.

A small metal bed sat perfectly intact in the center of the room.

On it lay a child's drawing.

Five stick figures stood outside a large building.

Underneath them were five names.

MARCUS. JENNA. DEREK. LENA. OWEN.

Derek lowered his camera.

“We're leaving.”

A child's voice whispered behind him.

“Derek?”

He froze.

Everyone turned.

Nothing.

“Derek?”

His face went white.

“That's my sister.”

Lena frowned.

“You don't have a sister.”

Derek looked at her.

“I did.”

The room went silent.

“She died when we were kids.”

Jenna stepped closer.

“Derek...”

“Emily.”

A tiny giggle came from beneath the bed.

Derek stared at it.

“Emily?”

The bed moved.

Just slightly.

Derek took a step forward.

“Emily?”

Something whispered from underneath.

“You left me.”

Derek's breathing stopped.

The bed suddenly slammed against the wall.

Derek screamed.

He ran from the room.

“Derek!”

Jenna chased him.

They found him at the end of the hallway.

He was standing in front of a closed examination room.

His camera hung loosely from one hand.

“Derek?”

He didn't respond.

Jenna approached carefully.

“Derek, we need to go.”

He shook his head.

“She wants me to open it.”

“Who's in there?”

“Emily.”

A little girl's voice came through the door.

“Derek?”

His eyes filled with tears.

“She's still alive.”

“No, Derek.”

“She was trapped.”

He grabbed the doorknob.

Jenna caught his wrist.

“Don't.”

Derek looked at her.

“She was six.”

The door opened by itself.

Inside was a child's bedroom.

Not an examination room.

A bedroom.

Derek stared.

There was a small bed.

A night-light.

A stuffed rabbit.

Photographs on the wall.

Everything looked exactly as it had thirty years ago.

Derek stepped inside.

Jenna grabbed his shoulder.

“Derek!”

The door slammed shut between them.

“DEREK!”

Inside, he heard a little girl crying.

“Help me.”

He dropped to his knees.

“Emily?”

“I can't breathe.”

Derek clawed at the door.

“I'm here!”

“You left me.”

“No.”

“You heard me calling.”

His face crumpled.

“I was scared.”

“I know.”

The room changed.

Suddenly Derek was six years old again.

He stood in the hallway of his childhood home.

Smoke filled the air.

His little sister screamed from upstairs.

His younger self ran toward the front door.

Away from her.

Derek stared at himself.

“No.”

The memory replayed.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Each time, Emily screamed louder.

Each time, little Derek ran.

Finally, Emily stood in front of him.

She no longer looked like a child.

Her skin was gray.

Her eyes were empty.

“You didn't forget me, Derek.”

She smiled.

“You left me.”

The lights went out.

Elsewhere in the asylum, Marcus discovered he was alone.

He stood inside an elevator.

There were no doors.

Only four concrete walls.

“Guys?”

His voice echoed.

“Very funny.”

Nothing.

He pressed the emergency button.

It didn't move.

Then he heard Jenna screaming.

“Marcus!”

He spun around.

“Jenna?”

Her voice came from above him.

“HELP ME!”

Marcus pounded against the wall.

“Where are you?”

“I'M DYING!”

He froze.

A second voice screamed.

Lena.

Then Owen.

Then Derek.

One by one.

“Marcus!”

“HELP!”

“PLEASE!”

Marcus covered his ears.

“Stop!”

The voices became louder.

Then silence.

Marcus slowly lowered his hands.

A metal door appeared in front of him.

He opened it.

He stepped into a hallway.

His friends were standing there.

All four.

Their throats had been cut.

Their eyes were open.

Their heads hung at impossible angles.

Marcus backed away.

“No.”

Jenna's corpse looked at him.

“You were supposed to save us.”

Marcus shook his head.

“No.”

Lena's corpse smiled.

“You always leave people behind.”

Marcus ran.

The hallway stretched endlessly.

Every door he passed contained another version of his friends.

Dead.

Dying.

Begging.

Until finally Marcus stopped.

At the end of the hallway stood himself.

Older.

Gray-haired.

Alone.

He stared at Marcus.

Then whispered:

“That's how you die.”

Marcus screamed.

Lena's flashlight went out.

She smacked it.

Nothing.

“Come on.”

She changed the batteries.

Still nothing.

She raised the flashlight again.

Darkness.

Absolute darkness.

Lena froze.

She had hated the dark since childhood.

Not ordinary darkness.

The kind that swallowed everything.

The kind where you couldn't see your own hands.

She remembered hiding beneath her bed when she was eight years old, convinced something was standing in the hallway.

Her mother had told her monsters weren't real.

Lena had believed her.

Until now.

Something breathed behind her.

She spun around.

Nothing.

Her flashlight flickered.

For half a second, she saw a figure standing behind her.

Tall.

Thin.

Head tilted.

The light died again.

Lena stopped breathing.

The figure whispered:

“Don't turn around.”

Lena's eyes filled with tears.

“Who are you?”

“Turn around.”

She didn't.

The voice moved closer.

“Turn around.”

A breath touched her ear.

Lena closed her eyes.

When she opened them, her flashlight worked.

She was alone.

She looked down.

There were wet footprints around her.

Bare feet.

They surrounded her.

But none led away.

Owen found himself in a security room.

Monitors covered the walls.

He stared at them.

Every screen showed the asylum.

Hallways.

Rooms.

Staircases.

Then one screen showed Jenna.

Another showed Marcus.

Another showed Lena.

Another showed Derek.

Owen reached for the monitor.

“Guys?”

The screens changed.

Now they all showed Owen.

From different angles.

Owen walking down the hallway.

Owen entering the building.

Owen standing in the children's ward.

Owen sleeping.

Owen sitting alone in his bedroom at home.

His blood ran cold.

“No.”

The screens changed again.

One showed him standing in this room.

Another showed him standing behind himself.

Owen slowly turned.

Nobody was there.

He looked back at the monitor.

The figure was closer.

He turned again.

Nothing.

Back to the screen.

Closer.

Closer.

Closer.

Until its face filled the monitor.

It looked exactly like Owen.

Except its eyes were black.

Its mouth opened.

Owen heard his own voice behind him.

“You've been watching everyone.”

Owen slowly turned.

His double stood inches away.

“Now it's your turn.”

Jenna found the hallway again.

She was alone.

At least she thought she was.

“Guys?”

No answer.

She walked forward.

The hallway changed.

The wallpaper became cleaner.

The lights brighter.

The hospital disappeared.

She was standing in her childhood home.

Jenna stared.

“No.”

Her mother's voice called from upstairs.

“Jenna?”

She froze.

Her mother had been dead for eleven years.

“Mom?”

“Come upstairs.”

Jenna began crying.

“No.”

“Please.”

Jenna covered her ears.

“This isn't real.”

Her mother's voice changed.

“Are you sure?”

Jenna looked down.

Her hands were covered in blood.

She screamed.

The house disappeared.

She was back inside Blackwood.

Marcus stood in front of her.

“Where have you been?”

“I...”

“You've been gone for three hours.”

Jenna stared.

“What?”

Marcus frowned.

“Three hours.”

“No.”

She looked around.

The hallway was different.

The walls were covered in writing.

Thousands of names.

She recognized some.

Others didn't.

Marcus pointed at the wall.

“Look.”

At the very bottom was her name.

JENNA VALE... PATIENT 6.

Jenna stared.

“No.”

Marcus took her hand.

“Come on.”

“Marcus, what is this?”

“We have to find the others.”

They walked.

Then Jenna stopped.

“Marcus.”

He turned.

“What?”

“I don't remember entering this hallway.”

Marcus smiled.

“You don't remember a lot of things.”

Her stomach dropped.

“What does that mean?”

Marcus stepped closer.

“You've been getting worse.”

“What?”

“You keep forgetting.”

His face changed.

His skin stretched.

His eyes darkened.

“You're losing your mind, Jenna.”

She stumbled backward.

“No.”

“You always knew this would happen.”

“No.”

“That's why you came here.”

“No!”

“You wanted to know if you were broken.”

Jenna screamed.

And the hallway screamed with her.

They found one another in the main corridor.

Or what was left of them.

Derek was covered in blood.

Lena was shaking violently.

Owen had abandoned his camera.

Marcus looked exhausted.

Jenna couldn't stop crying.

They stared at one another.

Nobody spoke.

Then Derek whispered:

“We need to leave.”

They ran.

The front entrance appeared ahead.

Freedom.

Marcus reached the doors first.

He shoved them open.

Sunlight flooded the hallway.

They stumbled outside.

Grass.

Trees.

Blue sky.

They collapsed.

For several seconds, nobody moved.

Then Jenna laughed.

“We made it.”

Marcus looked at the others.

Derek.

Lena.

Owen.

Everyone was there.

Everyone was alive.

“We made it,” Marcus whispered.

A police cruiser approached from the road.

An officer stepped out.

“You folks okay?”

Jenna nodded.

“Where are our friends?”

The officer frowned.

“What friends?”

Jenna's smile disappeared.

“There were five of us.”

The officer looked at the asylum.

Then back at her.

“You were alone when we found you.”

Marcus stood.

“No.”

The officer glanced at his watch.

“We received a call about a disturbance forty minutes ago.”

Marcus shook his head.

“We've been inside for hours.”

The officer's expression changed.

He stared at the asylum.

“That's impossible.”

“Why?”

The officer swallowed.

“Blackwood hasn't been occupied in thirty-seven years.”

Silence.

Jenna looked at the second-floor windows.

Five figures stood behind the glass.

Derek.

Lena.

Owen.

Marcus.

And Jenna.

All five were staring down at them.

Jenna slowly turned toward Marcus.

He was still standing beside her.

She looked back at the window.

The Marcus inside smiled.

The Marcus beside her did not.

“Who are you?” she whispered.

He didn't answer.

His eyes were black.

Jenna stepped away.

The thing wearing Marcus's face smiled.

“Oh.”

His voice was no longer his own.

“I guess they found us.”

The asylum doors slammed shut.

Behind the windows, the five figures pressed their hands against the glass.

And something beneath the hospital began counting.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Jenna backed away.

The thing beside her tilted its head.

Then a sixth voice whispered from somewhere underneath the ground.

“Six.”

Jenna looked at the asylum.

The windows were empty.

The five figures were gone.

But the thing beside her was still smiling.

And suddenly Jenna understood.

The asylum hadn't been trying to kill them.

It had been feeding on their fear.

It had taken their worst memories, their deepest anxieties, the things they had spent their entire lives hiding...

and made them real.

It didn't want dead bodies.

It wanted frightened minds.

Because frightened minds were easier to keep.

The thing wearing Marcus's face leaned toward her.

“Don't worry.”

Jenna began screaming.

“You'll get used to the dark.”

Behind them, the dead road stretched endlessly into the trees.

And somewhere beneath Blackwood Psychiatric Hospital, six beds waited.

Five had already been occupied.

The sixth was still warm.