The Attic Read online

  The Attic

  by

  Sara Bourgeois

  Chapter One

  “Have a seat, Samantha.” Mrs. Lancaster, the Nursing Administrator for Carver Mental Health, said to Sammy as soon as she entered the spacious office. “Thank you for coming in before your shift. I had a conference call that ran over much more than I expected, but we’ve still got a few minutes to talk.”

  “Oh, it’s no trouble at all,” Sammy said in an overly formal voice. The truth was that Mrs. Lancaster frightened her a little, and her attempts at being congenial went a little overboard whenever she had to speak to her superior. “How can I help you? Susan said that you needed to discuss my schedule?”

  “That’s true. I’ll be brief as I’ve got another call in less than ten minutes, but the gist of it is that we’re reopening the south wing of the center. Renovations were completed earlier this week, and Carver is ready to start taking on new patients. Susan won’t be able to cover the evening shift on her own with the additional patients, so we’re going to need a co-charge nurse in addition to several new LPNs and aides. What do you think?” Mrs. Lancaster asked.

  “What will the new wing be used for?” Sammy asked.

  She already knew the answer. The nurses on every shift had talked about nothing but the reopening of the south wing since the announcement had been made that a large donation had come in to renovate it. Rumors were flying that some billionaire whose son, Henrik Amsberg, had been found unfit to stand trial for seventeen murders had donated the money so that the hospital could begin taking in criminally insane patients, and he could hide his serial killer kid at Carver.

  “We’ll be taking on a variety of more challenging cases, Samantha. As you’ve probably heard, the south wing has been restored to be a maximum-security facility. You’d, of course, be working on the evening shift with Susan.”

  Sammy’s heart sank a little. She’d been hoping to be promoted to RN with the opening of the new wing. If she stayed on the evening shift, she’d still be an LPN. Only a move to the day shift would have meant a promotion to registered nurse.

  “I’d love the opportunity to move over to the new wing. It would be a great experience as I work towards an RN position. Will I still be working under Susan? Will she be the charge nurse in the new wing?” Sammy asked hopefully.

  She’d learned a lot working with Susan, and while she’d do her best to be flexible, Sammy didn’t relish the thought of having a new supervisor. She didn’t want to be working with the criminally insane with a new boss either.

  “Samantha, I think there’s been a misunderstanding.” Mrs. Lancaster said and pulled Sammy out of her thoughts. “I’m offering you the charge nurse position. You’ll be the co-supervisor with Susan. I’ve spoken with your professors at the college, and Dr. Henrietta recommended you. She said you had an interest in abnormal psychology and the temperament to handle difficult cases.”

  “You want me to supervise the evening shift in the new wing? But, what about Susan? She has far more experience than I do. Shouldn’t she have the option to take the new position?” Sammy asked as she tried to wrap her head around not only getting an RN job but being offered the opportunity to be charge nurse.

  “I already offered it to her, and she recommended you. You’ll have two LPNs and two aides working under you. We’ve already hired them, and all four of them have extensive experience with these types of populations. They’ve either worked in a similar facility to what we’re opening or have been employed in a prison setting. You’ll also have an orderly and a dedicated security guard working with you as well. So, what do you say, Samantha? I’m sorry to put you on the spot, but if you decline the position, I’ve got to start looking for someone right away. We’re opening the wing ahead of the original schedule and have patients arriving as early as next week.”

  “Yes, I accept. I’ll take the position.”

  Sammy wasn’t sure what she was getting herself into, but she didn’t want to miss the opportunity. There was a tiny voice inside of her that questioned whether she was ready for such a big responsibility, but Sammy reassured herself that Mrs. Lancaster wouldn’t be offering her the position if she wasn’t the right fit for the job.

  “That’s great news. I’ve got a call in two minutes, but if you’ve got some time, Susan can show you around the new wing before shift change. She’ll show you where your desk is going to be and give you a tour of the new patient rooms.”

  Sure enough, Susan waited in the hallway for Sammy. “So, did you take the job?” Susan asked, but she didn’t wait for Sam to answer before she continued. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you what was in the works. They said Mrs. Lancaster wanted to be the first to speak with you about it, and I don’t cross Mrs. Lancaster.”

  “It’s okay. I understand. Thank you for recommending me for the position.” Sam said as they walked toward the south wing. “But, I have to ask. Why didn’t you want the job?”

  “I’m not scared; if that’s what you think.” Susan teased. “I just like my current situation, and I’ve been doing it for so long that I’m comfortable. I’ve been through a lot of changes in my life, and right now, I’m just not up for another one.”

  “I can understand that,” Sammy said. “But, would you think less of me if I was scared?”

  “Honey, if you weren’t a little afraid of what you’re about to undertake, I’d fill out the paperwork and get you settled in room 113 myself.”

  They both chuckled, and it helped Sammy relax a little. “So, now that we’ve established I’m terrified, I feel like I can ask how far away from you I’m going to be. They said we were co-charge nurses, so I’m assuming we’ll have contact during our shift.”

  “Well, there’ll be a door like this between our wings. We’re about to go through the south side entrance closest to the administration offices, but on the other end is a door that is just down a short hallway from our wing.”

  “Yeah, I remember them installing a new security door in that short hallway we never use for anything a while back.”

  “That’s the one,” Susan said. “And this is the door from administration.”

  Sam wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but the security door was less intimidating than she’d thought. She wasn’t sure why she’d anticipated seeing steel bars and super high-tech retina scanners, but the actual door was pretty nondescript.

  “Don’t let it fool you,” Susan said as if she could read minds. “It’s steel reinforced with bulletproof glass. You need a special card to get in and out, and I’ll be the only employee who doesn’t work in the ward to have one. Not even Mrs. Lancaster can get into the south wing without one of the nurses working there to let her in.”

  Once they were inside, Sammy wished she had a sweater. It wasn’t cold outside, but there was a distinctive chill in the still air. “It’s cold in here.”

  “Yeah, I asked about that the other day. Lancaster said it was because the workers left the windows open while they were renovating the place. Once everything was done, they sealed the wing off. Since hardly anyone comes in or out of here, it’s holding the chill in. She said it would warm up once this place came to life. We’ll be needing air conditioning in a few weeks. Take a look around. They delivered your medication dispenser yesterday. Lancaster wanted me to make sure it was up and running before shift today.”

  The wing was laid out just like the others at Carver. It did have fewer patient rooms, though, because there was a security officer and another door that was locked and unmarked. The fact that there would be fewer patients was a relief, especially considering that Sammy would have twice as much staff.

  She wandered down the hall listening to the sound of Susan clicking away at the medicine machine’s keyboard. This was proba
bly the last time she’d see this wing so empty. Sammy took a deep breath and tried to etch the image of the empty south section in her mind. Soon, the hustle and bustle of patient care would replace the stillness. For some reason, she didn’t want to forget what this was like.

  That was the first time she felt it. The newness of this place was nothing more than a façade. Underneath the fresh paint and new drywall was the old south wing. Carver Mental Health Center hadn’t always been on the cutting edge of mental health medicine.

  At one time, this building had been the Carver Hospital for the Insane, and before that, the grounds had been used for the Lake County Poor Farm and Indigent Sanitarium. You couldn’t have grown up within a hundred-mile radius and not heard the stories and urban legends about this place.

  Some of the stories were true, and Sammy had researched them in the archives at the Lake Library. Patient care wasn’t held to as high of a standard in the past as it was currently. In fact, there was a time when it wasn’t held to any kind of standard at all.

  Carver had done its best to make up for the mistakes of the past by treating the current patients with dignity and compassion, but the history could not be erased. That past was still inside the walls, and for a moment, Sammy felt the thrum of it vibrating just below the surface.

  As she neared the security office, a feeling of dread slid down into her stomach like a drink of too icy water. It added to the chill in the air and made her shiver violently.

  Something from beyond seemed to call out to her, but not in words. The images and ideas crept into her mind like someone slipping photos into a slide projector. They were in her head, but the scenes were not her memory. As she tried to focus on them and grab hold of their meaning, the images would evaporate.

  All that she could cling to was that there was a reason why the rooms that were now the security office and mystery room weren’t reused for patient care. Something unfortunate, or perhaps sinister, happened in those places. Sammy could swear she could hear the cries of pain and anguish in the back of her mind.

  Without really thinking about it, Sam turned the knob and let herself into the security office. She assumed that in the future, it would be locked. Right at that moment, it wasn’t. There wasn’t any reason to close it yet she told herself. There were no patients on the wing, and the only thing in the office was a desk and chair.

  Sam traced her fingers along the outside edge of the desk as she walked around it and then sat down in the black leather chair. The crying that hadn’t entirely left her thoughts grew louder. The agony in the voices pulled at her gut until she felt her own eyes grow damp.

  “Sammy, what are you doing?” Susan’s voice made Sam jump half out of her skin. “Guess we’re going to have to have the lock guys take a look at this door. It’s a good thing you found it doesn’t work. I can’t imagine having the security office accessible to patients. That would have been a disaster waiting to happen.”

  “Oh, it just popped right open. I assumed the locks weren’t installed completely yet.” Samantha said and stood up.

  “Nope, you shouldn’t have been able to get that door open. Come on, we’ve still got time to grab a coffee before our shift starts.” Susan said and closed the security office when they were both back out in the hallway.

  “What’s in that room?” Sammy said and pointed at the unmarked door across from security.

  “Not completely sure. I’ve heard rumors that it’s riot gear.” Susan said and quickly continued when she saw Sammy’s face go bleach white. “Don’t worry. It’s just a precaution. I seriously doubt we’ll ever need it.”

  Chapter Two

  John was asleep on the sofa when Samantha got home. He had to be at work at six in the morning but that never stopped him from trying to wait up for her. She would wake him up just enough to let him know that she’d made it home safely and then cover him with a blanket. It was their little ritual. Most of the time, Sammy grabbed two blankets and slept on the sofa adjacent to the one John occupied.

  They’d decided not to share a bed until they were married, but neither one of them really wanted to sleep in separate bedrooms anymore. The couch arrangement seemed as good a compromise as any other. Even on the nights, Sammy didn’t work, they typically fell asleep in the living room watching a movie.

  She wanted to wake him completely and share the news of her promotion but decided in the end that was unreasonable. Even though she had the day off tomorrow, he still had to work. Anyway, he’d be off by two, and they could have a celebratory lunch.

  Sammy wasn’t sure what she was more excited about. The promotion was a great step in her career, but the raise that accompanied it also meant that they could finally begin the renovations on Overwatch House.

  After grabbing a pillow from the hall closet, Sammy settled in on the sofa to sleep. Tut, the cat, jumped up moments later and nestled into the crook behind her legs. She laid on her side watching John sleep and lulled herself by attempting to match her breathing to his.

  In just a few minutes, her eyelids became heavy and started to close. She didn’t fight it. As Sammy drifted off, she heard the sound of agonized wailing in the back of her mind again. It started so softly that she thought it was the sound of the guinea pig making noises in the dining room, but it quickly grew to a deafening roar.

  Before the adrenaline rush could fully take effect, Sammy found herself completely paralyzed. She couldn’t move any part of her body except her eyes, but her heart beat so hard in her chest that she thought it would burst. Tut’s sleepy purring reached her ears, but Sam could no longer feel the cat pressed against the back of her thighs.

  Sleep paralysis.

  She remembered studying the phenomenon in one of her psych classes. Some people had claimed that they saw shadow people stalking them or aliens watching them as they lay helpless. Others had said that it was nothing more than the paralysis and that those claiming demonic or foreign presences were making it up for attention.

  Sammy comforted herself with the thought that those people were attention seeking. She told herself that the paralysis was the worst of it and that if she could just take a few deep breaths, it would pass.

  As she struggled to draw a deep breath against what felt like a boulder sitting on her breastbone, the shadows in the corner of the room caught her eye. At first, they flickered as if candlelight filled the room, but there were no candles. The sole source of light was what made its way into the living room through the dining room and hallway from the kitchen.

  The flickering turned into what appeared to be swirling, but terror seized Sammy’s chest as she realized it was more like dancing. The ragged, jagged shape of a tall, thin man danced its way out of the corner. At first, it just turned and stared at Sam from across the room.

  For what felt like hours he stood there as his gaze bore down into her. What struck her as particularly frightening was that the shadow man had no eyes, but she still knew it glared at her. She could feel the hatred sinking into her skin like acid.

  Then, it slowly moved toward her. Each step took minutes as the thing crept in slow motion without ever looking away from her paralyzed and completely exposed body.

  When it finally had made its way all the way to the sofa, the shadow creature crawled up onto the arm and perched there like a demonic cat lording over prey before going in for the kill. It reached one long, thin arm out toward Sammy’s face, and she could feel the breath being sucked out of her lungs.

  The pain was intense as her lungs shriveled without air. She felt her chest ripping but couldn’t scream. Darkness mercifully closed around her and Sammy’s vision went black as she slipped into complete unconsciousness.

  Sammy sat bolt upright so fast that she sent Tut scurrying off the couch and into the dining room. Morning light flooded through the curtains, and she sighed with relief. There was a note on the coffee table from John, and Sam quickly reached out to grab it. Her arm met resistance as she realized that the blanket covering her was pla
stered to her skin with sweat.

  She shoved the blanket off and felt goosebumps form on her bare arms as the morning chill hit her damp skin. With that, Sam was able to swipe the note off the table. She rubbed one eye with the back of her hand to clear her vision and stretched before bringing the small piece of pink paper back down to eye level.

  Take it easy today. You look like you had a rough night. I’ll bring home something to eat. Love you. – John

  She usually made a late lunch for the two of them when she had a day off, but it was thoughtful of him to offer take-out. Sammy was also thankful for the washer and dryer he’d installed upstairs in the spare room. She’d thought he was nuts at first, but John used the plumbing from the bathroom to turn the extra room into a laundry room. She gathered up the sweat-soaked blanket and cushion covers and hauled them upstairs.

  It wasn’t exactly taking it easy, but the last thing she wanted to do was let the dirty stuff go sour. Since she was home alone, she stripped her clothes off while she stood in front of the washing machine too.

  After grabbing a fresh pair of underwear and bra from the basket of folded laundry she hadn’t put away yet, Sammy went into the bathroom and turned on the shower so it would get hot while she retrieved a pair of jeans and t-shirt.

  The bathroom was full of steam when she got back, and as she closed the bathroom door behind her, Sammy’s heart about stopped. The mirror was already steamed up, and in the center, was a dripping handprint.

  She put her hand to her chest and felt the thunderous beating of her heart while trying to take calming breaths. Sammy chuckled to herself thinking that John had done it as a joke. He’d put his hand on the mirror that morning while he got ready for work so it would show up later when she took a shower.

  But, why would he think that was funny? After everything they’d been through already in this house, why would John believe that a joke like that was okay? It was then that she realized the handprint couldn’t be his. It was too small, and it had to be a woman’s hand.