Ser Procrastinazione
- Group
- Veterano
- Posts
- 14,730
- Creepy Score
- +425
- Location
- Da qualche parte in Italia
- Status
- Anonymous
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The Sixth Day
I had fallen asleep with my artwork again. Doodling on the GIMP program was a pastime of mine, and I used it to calm down. This night was no exception, only when I woke up… there sat an image in my art style that I had no recollection in drawing whatsoever:
It was him. Marx.
It was noon by the time I decided I had to go back. Whether he was planning to hurt Faith or not, I wasn’t going to take any chances. Both she and the innocents at the asylum were in danger. And I loved Faith. I would do anything to make sure she was safe. I knew in the pit of my gut that she was still there. She had mentioned Marx loved her very much, something I knew was only half true. What he really loved, I know, was the attention she got him. Almost like an incubus. The more people she got to play the game, the more people would know the name Marx, a name he adopted. But I had to hurry. I’m not sure how many of the nurses actually saw his ghastly image. Every one that did was in danger. I wasn’t sure what I was planning to do, but I had to do it fast. Either he had hid himself to this point on purpose, or he had grown in strength since I arrived.
When I reached the asylum merely an hour later, clouds had rolled in and blocked the sun. I was really hoping that coming this time of day meant more daylight, being the wuss I was. I liked to convince myself it gave me an advantage, when really it gave me a shred of peace of mind.
I entered the asylum. My worst fears were realized right when I stepped through the door, which I noticed was ajar in the first place. There was no man behind the front counter. The bars that once protected the Men’s Wing was ripped from place, and the message still bled at the end of the hall. It was like walking straight into Mount Massive Asylum itself. I wanted to turn back. Every fiber in my being wanted me to turn back, but I couldn’t. I had to get Faith and get out.
The hospital wasn’t in as bad as a condition as you thought it would, with a bloodthirsty entity roaming its halls. It just seemed… barren. It was though the nurses had just abandoned ship. When I made it to the Violent section of the wing, some of the patients weren’t even scathed, just quiet. Before I entered the nursery, I turned to check on the medium’s sister. When I poked my head through the bars, I braced myself in case she made a lunge toward me again. I pulled out for a completely different reason. There she sat, in the corner… her throat slit.
Fearing for Faith’s life, I rushed into the nursery. My eyes immediately went to where they did the day before, and they weren’t disappointed: though the body of the boy was gone, the wall was still dyed a deep crimson red. The children were gone. The nurses were gone. I had to search around frantically before I heard the little voice:
“Ms. Jacobson!”
Thank the gods! I turned around as Faith met me, curled around my legs in a hug. I scooped her up in my arms. I hugged her and cried. But it wasn’t over yet. I pulled back and told her we needed to leave, NOW. She asked me if her friend could come. I told her no, he couldn’t. She was upset, as I hobbled down the hall towards the front door. She was confused. She began to threaten that she wouldn’t go with me if her friend couldn’t come. I told her no again. I told her we were going on a little trip, and we would be right back. I told her to leave her friend here until we got back. I stopped. I turned around. I swear to god I heard a light bulb short-circuit down the hall. I began running. Faith looked over my shoulder. Her friend was following us. He wasn’t going to let her leave.
When we got outside, out to the parking lot, I quickly strapped her into the back seat. The moment I clicked her seat belt, however, was the moment my heart stopped. There, grasped in her little claws, was the Nintendo DS. Despite the horror that I knew was at my heels, I hesitated. Marx didn’t manifest out of nowhere. This demon had to be attached to something, I thought. It was 50/50. He could be attached to Faith… or he could be attached-…
“Faith, honey,” I begged, “I need to see your Gameboy.”
As I reached for it, she snatched it away. “No!”
“Faith, please! I need your Gameboy!”
“NO!”
I turned around as I felt a quick gust of wind. The front doors were open. Though I couldn’t see him, I felt his eyes boring into mine. I felt his anger as the air grew thick. I could sense his ghastly image hovering over my shoulder. I only had one shot. Mustering every bit of strength I had left, I relaxed. “Faith, can I play the game again?”
I could see she was prepared to deny me again. But she didn’t. I knew she couldn’t deny me, and she wouldn’t. Because that’s what her friend wanted: to play the game. She slowly handed it to me. When I took it, it only took me two seconds to lock and close the car door. I heard her screaming behind me, banging on the window, but I didn’t listen. I needed to face this. So, in a quick move less than graceful, I flung the DS at the asylum wall. I didn’t stay long to watch it shatter, breaking apart into two separate screens. He hadn’t got to me. Not yet. He was as bewildered as she was, I know. I leaped into the driver’s seat, and tried to start up my car.
“Marxie!” Faith’s voice cracked between tears.
The car sputtered. It roared to life, but not without effort. Before I even had a chance to put it in drive, I heard the deafening screech of scraping metal. I didn’t let it faze me. I punched the gas harder than I ever have before. And so… with Faith squealing in the back seat… I left the campus of Spring Grove Asylum forever.
I wasn’t sure where I was going at first. I decided ten minutes into the drive to just head home. There was really no where else to go. Besides, my family was away this week, on a trip to the Great Wolf Lodge. I’d have a day to rest before taking off again. I remembered Marx’s warning. He wasn’t going to stop. We had to keep running for now.
I tried speaking to Faith on the way. It took minutes for Faith’s voice to grow weak from her wails. It took hours for her to stop crying. She hates me, I thought. After all that’s just come to light, I still felt bad for ripping her away from the one being that gave her love before anyone else dared, even if that love was fake. I tried speaking to her, trying to explain that I couldn’t let her friend hurt anyone else. She wouldn’t listen. I eventually put on some music, and tried to forget. It didn’t feel like it was over, but I was going to pretend it was. It took nearly two hours to get home.
When we made it home, I was unsure whether or not to let her out. She had been so calm up until now; it was a bit unsettling. I got out of the car, first taking note of the huge scrape across my left front wheel, as though something dug into it with his massive claws. I disregarded it. When I reached her window, she didn’t look at me. I opened her door. Thank god, she was still strapped in. I almost expected her to make a charging leap out of the car. We just… stood there a moment. I wasn’t sure what to do at this point, but thankfully, I didn’t need to. She looked up at me, and began crying. I knelt down and unbuckled her for her to throw her arms around me. I carried her inside, and tucked her into my bed.
Then I sat down and began typing. Even though my inner instinct screamed to keep moving, I just sat here, and typed.
As I sit here, pouring out my heart in as much detail as I can, I realize how absurd this all sounds. I mean, wouldn’t something like this make some kind of news? It’s been nearly two days now since Marx killed that boy, and I’ve checked Spring Grove website. Nothing. In big red letters on their front page, it reads: “AS OF APRIL 18th, 2014, SPRING GROVE HOSPITAL CENTER IS CLOSED FOR MAINTENANCE”. Bull. I checked the staff roster. There was no Doctor Denise Waters to speak of; looks like someone’s in trouble. The damn hospital didn’t waste a moment’s notice in covering their tracks. I wouldn’t be surprised if this isn’t the first time they had an incident like this.
But there’s something else… something I didn’t really consider until a few moments ago. If Marx had the freedom he did, then why was I still here? It didn’t take the drop of a pin for him to murder those children, those nurses, those patients. The moment they knew his image, his name, they were as good as dead. What made me so special? Why keep me alive? Why hold back, when I was the one closest to his precious cargo? Why was I, the one who was digging, also the one who was spared? WHY ME?
… Well, maybe it’s because I’m his goddamn puppet. Maybe I heard a sound in the other room. Maybe I went to check on Faith. Maybe she was standing there, her eyes lit up like stars, a smile on her face, as she held a perfectly functional DS in her hands. Maybe, for the past hour, I’ve been forced to type every single word as a knife I cannot see digs into my neck. Maybe, as his claws pierce my bloody shoulder blades, I’ve begged him not to let this document see the light of day. WHY? Maybe it’s becau
mAyBE He waNtS tHeM to bEliEvE. MaYbe He wAntS THem tO plAy tHe gAme.
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