Flash Fiction: St. Margaret's Hospital

Micheal handed the half-empty bottle of rum to Elizabeth. Amateurs, eager to make their mark in the paranormal investigator scene sat in their vehicle outside the remnants of St. Margaret's Hospital. A hospital that had been abandoned for over three decades.

The weathered facade loomed like a ghost, its cracked windows resembling hollow eyes watching the world pass by. Its overgrown foliage resembled tentacles from the deep wrapping around the old brick, in the dark rainy night.

Elizabeth had heard local legends that spoke of shadowy figures wandering the halls and inexplicable sounds echoing through the night. Stories of a female ghost touching and chasing all who dared enter. Elizabeth finished putting fresh batteries in the flashlights, voice recorders, face cameras, and thermal imaging cameras before taking another shot of rum.

"You ready?" Asked Micheal

"Yeah," responded Elizabeth after taking a deep breath. "A good video here and our channel will definitely break the top twenty-five."

"Damn! I hope so, come on. We have maybe two hours before a cop gets suspicious."

They stepped through the rusting gate that creaked ominously as they entered. A chill ran down Elizabeth's spine, but she brushed it off as excitement. They’d done their research; they were prepared—or so they thought. The lobby was a scene of decay. Dust motes floated in the beam of Michael’s flashlight, illuminating shattered furniture and crumbling walls. “Ok,” he whispered, his voice barely breaking the tension in the air. They put their equipment down, ready to document evidence of the supernatural.

“Let’s start here then we can go to the old surgical wing,” Elizabeth suggested, glancing at the map of the old layout they found online.

After a few minutes of silence and no readings in their voice recorders and thermals, they decided to make their way through the dark corridors. The silence was overwhelming, interrupted only by their footsteps echoing off the walls. The atmosphere thickened, oppressive, as if the very air had been stained by the memories of suffering and death.

The surgical wing was just as they imagined—rusted gurneys lined the walls, and the scent of mildew hung heavily. They positioned their cameras and other equipment, they called out to any spirits who might be present. “If you’re here, please give us a sign.” Minutes felt like hours, and the only response was the soft whistle of the wind and the thump of raindrops hitting window panes and tile floors. Micheal felt a knot tightening in his stomach. Elizabeth felt like she was being watched but the thermal cameras were not picking up anything. They continued to ask questions like "Is there anyone here with us tonight?" and "Tell us your name?" A few more minutes passed before Michael suggested they move to the adjacent room to explore further.

As they stepped into the next chamber, a loud crash echoed behind them. Heart racing, Elizabeth turned to see a metal door swinging ajar. “Did you hear that?” she gasped, pulling closer to Michael.

“Y-Yeah, let’s ch-check it out,” he replied, his voice wavered slightly. They approached the door, which slightly swayed as if seemingly inviting them in. Cautiously, they stepped through the threshold. The room was cluttered with old medical equipment covered in dust. As Elizabeth scanned the area, a chilling breeze swept past her, and she shivered. “Did you feel that?”

“Must be a draft,” Micheal responded though he sounded unsure wishing it was just the chill from the rainy night. They continued exploring, scrutinizing every shadow and crevice until Elizabeth noticed something strange—a faint outline of something swaying on the ground in the corner of the room. She turned her camera quickly to the corner and hit Micheal on his arm.

"Look!” she whispered, pointing frantically at the corner and her camera. A yellow streak upon a green and magenta canvas of missing heat signatures from the thermal camera showed that something was recently there.

"We got something?" whispered Micheal. Before Elizabeth could respond a light flickered from the hallway and a faint voice echoed through the chamber, "Get out..."

Both investigators stood motionless not second-guessing what they had heard. Elizabeth reached for Micheal's hand grasping it tightly. She slowly mouthed, What was that?

A loud squeak of a rusty unlubricated wheel was heard from the room adjacent to them. Elizabeth pulled on Micheal's arm and they both frantically ran towards the sounds swaying their thermals unsure of what they would glimpse at. Nothing but heavy breathing from the investigators was heard.

"H-Hello?" said Elizabeth her voice cracking. There were a few seconds of silence before Micheal whispered that he could not believe what they had encountered. Elizabeth turned her light toward Micheal, she looked at him and quickly remarked on his breath. Micheal's breath could be seen like mist as if it were the cool night of winter

The sound of wet sticky skin hitting against tile floors was suddenly heard echoing as if someone or something was running toward them. Micheal's flashlight shined on a terrifying figure flinging a pair of metal doors from the end of the hallway crawling on all fours with long black moppy hair against the unplastered crumbling wall, it writhed in agony swaying its head side to side screaming, contorting its body like a scorpion. Multiple legs and arms contorted like a spider carrying its lock-covered form toward the investigators.

Panic surged through them as the lights flickered violently. Micheal shouted, “Run!” He grabbed Elizabeth’s hand, and they bolted from the hallway, the haunting scream trailing behind them.

The hallways twisted and turned like a maze, and as they rushed through the decaying structure, the air grew dense, almost suffocating. Shadows taunted them, creeping along the walls, and the sound of footsteps echoed—close, too close.

They pushed through the old doors into the lobby, panting and seeing the front door loom ahead. The atmosphere shifted abruptly; the air vibrated while the lobby stretched more meters ahead of them. Shadows surged from the corners, gathering like smoke, reaching for them with unseen hands.

“Go, go!” Micheal shouted, their sprinting not fast enough toward the exit. Just as they reached the door, Elizabeth felt something tightening around her ankle, a cold grip that pulled her back.

“Micheal!" she cried, panic rising within her. Silky dirty hair and hot breath pressed behind her neck. Dread filled her eyes and lungs, she felt the grip of Micheal's hands pull heaving to free her from the shadows. An anguished wail was heard when Micheal flashed his light toward the bundle of raven locks.

They ran into the night, only stopping when they reached the safety of their vehicle. Gasping for breath, they locked the doors and drove away quickly. The hospital loomed in the rearview mirror, the broken windows and cracked walls towered like a grin, a silhouette against the moonlit sky. Micheal glanced at Elizabeth, who was trembling uncontrollably. As they drove away, Micheal thought about their narrow escape from the hospital, but its whispers would linger, haunting them for a long time.