50 year old lawyer just playing with a bit of writing for fun.
The old patient rang his bedside emergency buzzer. Each buzzer was identifiable in the orderly's station. Because he was old, Darren relied on just one orderly coming to investigate.
The day dragged on without incident. Darren was told he would begin his treatment with Dr Peterson tomorrow and that he should just relax until then.
"it came out of his nose and mouth" the old patient continued. "it's pure fuckin evil" he said. Darren just stared at the Prince's new host in disbelief. "was there no end to this shit" he thought.
A large orderly removed Darren's handcuffs at 7.30 the following morning. He didn't speak to Darren other than to say "Be Nice!". Darren sat up in his bed and stared at his surroundings.
When he opened his eyes, Darren sensed he was in hospital but there was a lot of noise, some screaming, some yelling and some loud gibberish sounds coming from other patients on the ward.
Darren felt his jaws being forced open but as he reached out to stop it, he realised that there was nothing physical causing it.
His search narrowed it down to 5 possibles.
The police told Darren that nobody had been found in his mothers house, no remains of anybody. The house had been burnt to a cinder. The fire just wouldn't go out no matter what the fire brigade did.
Smoke entered Darren's throat and nostrils as he coughed himself awake. Every movement hurt like hell from his hips upwards. His head felt like it would explode or had exploded.
Darren's mum sat with trembling hands, her tea spilling into to flowery saucer as she tried desperately to steady herself.
Stuart James Arthur Thomkins was 34 years old. He had spent most of his childhood in borstal homes and most of his adult years in prison.
Nothing happened. No strange noises, no movements and no hallucinations. Darren was getting frustrated. "its got to have something to do with this place" he thought.
The final straw for Darren came on a stormy August morning in 2011. It was strange from the moment he opened his eyes. The weather forecast was for glorious sunshine with temperatures of 30 degrees.
Darren had called his Mum twice a week since he'd moved in to his own house. It was never a great relationship, his dad had died when he was very young.
Life was fairly normal for a while after that and Darren put the whole thing down to food poisoning and hallucinations. That was until about 4 months later. Darren had met a girl, Samantha.
Darren lay there unbelievably calm considering the terror what had passed before him.
It hit him like a rock, there was nothing he could do, nowhere he could run, no one to hear him if he screamed. He knew it and so did the entity inside his room.
It had been almost a year since Darren had last seen it. In August 2011, Darren had decided that the only way to escape was to leave his home and start his life again somewhere else.
Alex's sister stood there like a wild animal. Her hair was stuck up in the air as if she had been struck by lightening. Her right hand held a long black knife which Alex recognised from the kitchen.
The cat (or what used to be her cat) was pinned to the ceiling by its ears. It's stomach dangled all the way to the bath. Blood dripped and dripped and dripped into the bath.
She came awake slowly, in a daze, wondering what that sound was in her dream. Slowly she realised the sound was still there. " What the hell is that" she thought. Drip, drip drip.