Theme music:
Shamal yawned as she placed the last of her belongings into her bag, looking forward to a long night of sleep at Hayate's house. She clucked in annoyance as she looked at the clock which emotionlessly read 11:56 PM. It had been an especially hectic day, with the average amount of training injuries in addition with an especially hard day of combat practice by the Forwards, forcing her to stay longer taking care of patients, which resulted in a longer cleanup time. Finally, Shamal locked the door to her office and set out on the lonely journey toward the exit of the hospital, going slower due to most of the lights being shut off due to the time. As Shamal stepped into the hallway that would lead her to the lobby of the hospital and subsequent exit, she was stared aimlessly, thinking only of the cup of hot chocolate she would have before going to bed.
Then she saw it.
Shamal unconsciously stopped as she drew level with a small hallway that branched off the main corridor. She stared down the dark hallway, eyes fixed on the doorway at the end. It would have been inconspicuous, save for a few details. Most of the doors were electronically powered, made of the shiniest new materials, and were freshly painted. This door however, was still graced with a doorknob, and the paint showed obvious wear and peel. As Shamal continued to stare at it, her thoughts drifted back to that afternoon...
"Can I help you?" A voice behind Shamal inquired.
Shamal turned around to see an aging man in a janitor uniform, who was curiously staring at her.
"Um, could you inform me of what room that door leads to?"
A few minutes before, Shamal was walking down the hallway to file some folders when she came up upon the peculiar doorway, and was wondering both what was behind it and how it managed to hold her attention for so long.
The old man wrinkled his brows as he tried to think up the right answer, then something seemed to come to his mind.
"Ah, before this new hospital was built, there used to be an older facility that went a few floors above and below the ground. This part of the hospital that you're standing in was one of the few sections they held over to the new facility. Most of the old wards above ground were demolished to make way for the new ones, but many of the underground wards were left abandoned. I think that door is supposed to lead down to some storage rooms and the abandoned parts of the earlier hospital as well."
Shamal thanked the man, and went on her way, quickly forgetting about the forlorn door. Now however, as the clock struck midnight, she couldn't help but stare at it, wondering what lied beyond its worn frame. Before she knew it, Shamal was standing in front of the door, her hand reaching for the handle. While her mind was convincing her to go home, and to forget about her petty desires for midnight urban exploration, Shamal's body refused to listen, as if she were in a trance. Without pausing, Shamal stepped through the doorway.
That's when the stench hit her.
Shamal slightly recoiled as she recognized the scent of mildew wafting up from what appeared to be a set of corroding stairs. Squinting at the darkness, Shamal bade Klarer Wind to provide her a ball of light, and went down the stairs. Once she reached the lower level, Shamal finally managed to take in her surroundings. She was in what appeared to be a long hallway, with several doors on either side, how long it went was lost to Shamal because the light from Klarer Wind was unable to reach to the end. The first thing she deducted was that NO ONE had been down here in a very long time. What remained of the paint on the walls were peeling off, and the bare walls were darks with water stains and mold. While the floors did hold various bits of trash, none of it seemed recent because most of it were in various states of decay themselves. The roof was lined by several pipes, and insulation hung down from them like icicles. Taking a deep breath, Shamal started walking down the hall. She promised to herself that she would walk to the end, then turn right around. Quickly however, she soon realized that the hallway was longer than she thought, and the stairway quickly vanished from her sight. Shamal kept walking, only pausing to peek inside several doors. Most of them were empty, save a few pieces of trash, but Shamal knew that they were once patient rooms. Shamal contemplated on the rooms as she walked by.
"Who once stayed there, what conversations occurred between the sick, the dying, and their loved on-"
CRUNCH!
Shamal jumped as the sudden sound broke her train of thought. For what seemed like hours, Shamal just stood, and strained with her ears to hear anything else. But it was dead silent. As Shamal moved her foot to begin walking again, she noticed that she had evidently stepped on some type of... sound recorder? Curiously, Shamal bent down and picked up the peculiar device. Indeed! It was some kind of tape recorder, and a VERY old one, since it evidently still used the plastic reels. Her nerves calmed again, Shamal looked forward and noticed a wide open door, and that it was slightly larger and darker than the other ones. Shamal walked up to it, but the paint on the door was too faded to see what the figures said. Shamal walked inside, and the first thing that came to her mind was: Boxes. Boxes upon boxes of files were stacked on top of one another in what now seemed to be a file/AV room of sorts, and numerous papers were scattered all over the floor and walls. Shamal glanced at some of the papers, and noted with a wrench that they were all patient files. Shamal's heart ached as she took in the various papers, x-rays, and other pictures that once represented the memories and lives of people, now lying forgotten and gathering dust, just like some of the actual patients that stayed here.
Shamal exited the room, and kept walking forward, only pausing to take a glance at a room that seemed to be filled with bathtubs, labeled: Hydrotherapy.
On, and on she walked, it seemed like the hallway was stretching onward and onward, and Shamal was seriously contemplating on maybe just turning around, when a cold breeze passed over her left shoulder. Shamal wrenched around and stared back at the empty black hallway behind her, but felt nothing but an increasing sense of nervousness. Shamal chastised herself for being so jumpy, and turned back around. As she started walking, she slowed down again as a sound made its way to her ears.
Drip... Drip... Drip...
Shamal's eyes narrowed as she identified the sound, until now, Shamal had heard absolutely nothing beside her own soft footsteps and nervous breathing. Strangely, Shamal couldn't lock onto where the sound was coming from, it seemed to come from all directions, echoing off the walls, and as Shamal started moving forward again, the sound didn't get louder or softer, it remained at that soft but unmistakably clear volume, just out of reach, but definitely able to be felt. Now with the sound of water to keep her company, Shamal started quickening her pace, seeking to leave as quickly as possible, when she noticed a small object at the very edge of the light Klarer Wind was shining out, laying on the ground. Shamal stopped short as she came up to the item, a small doll, lying face down. The doll was in just a sorry state as the rest of the building, the cloth that made up its clothing stained and some internal stuffing poking out. Shamal picked up the doll and turned it so that the face was staring up at her, and her eyes widened in surprise as she saw its angry expression.
"Hmm... why would a child want a doll that loo--"
Shamal wrenched her head toward the movement at the corner of her eye. The general direction of what seemed like a moving shadow led her vision to settle on a corrugated steel door that was partially hidden in the shadows just past the light provided by Klarer Wind. As Shamal stared at the door, a million thoughts were running through her mind,
"What was that? was I just seeing things? did I cause that motion by moving? WHAT'S INSIDE THE DOOR?"
The last question resonated inside her, and inevitably drew her toward the gaping entrance. As she stared inside, Shamal felt as she was standing at the mouth of some giant monster, that seemed to eagerly await its food. She could feel its breath, a cold breeze that chilled her to the bone that reached out from the depths of the room and wrapped itself around her. Taking a deep breath, Shamal stepped into the void. As soon as Shamal stepped inside the room, she was taken aback with the sudden change in temperature, as it had suddenly gone very cold, almost to the point of where she could see her own breath. While the air had felt damp in the hallway, the air inside the room also seemed heavy, and settled down on her like a blanket, it was depressing. As Shamal looked around the room, her mind raced as she recognized several open refrigerators, several oven-like compartments, and an operating table.
Shamal was in the morgue.
Shamal was silent as she stared at the compartments that once held frozen corpses, although most of the compartments were shut, enclosing their contents, several were open, giving Shamal access to their thankfully barren interiors. Her inspection of the refrigerators did not go as lucky, as Shamal clearly saw the labels on several jars that remained on the shelves,
BRAIN SLICE, LIVER SAMPLE, KIDNEY SAMPLE, BLOOD SAMPLE: Biohazard.
All of the seals on the jars looked unbroken.
Shamal quickly removed herself from the area of the refrigerators and moved on to the exam table. Shamal curiously took note of the materials that were haphazardly strewn on the surface. While the majority of the knick-knacks seemed to be materials you would find on any sort of exam room such as needles, scissors, and pliers, there were also screws, electric paddles, a lobotomy pick.
Seeing nothing more of interest, Shamal decided she had had enough, and headed back down toward the exit. As Shamal started encountering doors and various items she identified near the stairway she had originally entered through, she started walking at a faster pace, looking forward to finally leaving this accursed place.
Shamal ground to a halt.
Resting in the middle of the hall, pointed at an angle, was a chair. It wasn't a special or unique chair by any means, just an ordinary patient wheel chair sitting in the middle of the hall.
What was disturbing though, was that Shamal did not recall seeing ANY chairs during her entire time down in the lower ward. As Shamal ran her underground journey through her head, she did not remember any obstacles lying in her path. Shamal's neck hairs pricked up as she stared at the innocent looking object, wondering where it had come from, for all the rooms around it were empty when she checked them before. Now becoming more nervous, Shamal scooted around the chair, and made her way to the foot of the stairs that would lead her out.
"SQUEAK!"
Freezing, Shamal turned around and looked back at the chair.
It hadn't moved, at least, it didn't look like it had.
Shaking her head, Shamal rushed up the stairs, and finally made her way back to the hallway that separated the new hospital from the abandoned section. Shamal sighed in relief and turned around to close the door.
For undisclosed reasons, Shamal took the next day off.