** A young woman sees a walking dead in the open streets of Whitby. A train full of corpses crashes into Kings Cross. In an Asylum, a gruesome nightmare becomes horrible reality.
All this should have been a warning to Kyle and his partner Benjamin...
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The key ring, attached to the nun's belt with a chain, clinked while she strode quickly ahead of the two seekers. The black fabric of her ankle-length habit, the religious robe she wore like all the sisters of St. Hilda's Hospital, swung around her feet with every step, occasionally revealing the tips of her black, obviously worn shoes. "And this is the entrance to our hospital's mental ward." The aforementioned door opened with a metallic groaning of the hinges as if to ensure everyone knew when someone entered or left this part of the hospital.
The mental hospital corridors were painted entirely white, and the windows were large enough to let in plenty of light. Everything was arranged to give a bright, friendly impression. Some room doors were open, allowing a view into the spartanly furnished rooms. There was only a bed, a small side table, and perhaps a shelf. Some walls were decorated with a few self-painted pictures, while others were plain, sterile, and empty.
"Do you have many patients here in the sanatorium?" Dr. Archer asked, expertly letting his gaze wander in all directions.
Sister Enid shook her head slightly. "Our institution is comparatively small, and thankfully, most of the rooms are empty. This also allows us to divide up our patients and treat them according to their personal needs," said the young woman, whose mere presence made the hairs on the back of Kaylee's neck bristle.
The presence of priests, nuns, or clergy generally grated on her nerves like fingernails on a blackboard. Clergy and a doctor? It was a terrible combination. Such people could help and look down disapprovingly on their patients simultaneously.
In most areas, medically trained staff had replaced the sisters of all sorts of orders, as had been the custom in the past. But she could have expected to find clergymen here in this hospital with this name, which was located near an old monastery. Inwardly, she shook her head at herself. She might have let Dr. Archer do this alone if she hadn't been so curious and far too suspicious.
The nuns on duty at the hospital talked to the patients in a calm tone of voice. Others led or accompanied the mentally disturbed on a short walk through the halls, as the weather was too bad to go outside.
Meanwhile, Nurse Enid led the two guests to a staircase that ended in a small anteroom. Next to a barred window overlooking the front courtyard of the hospital, a young attendant in a leather apron sat on a wooden stool in front of a heavy, obviously closed door. He lifted his eyes from his newspaper, which he studied extensively, when he heard footsteps approaching. His brown hair was cropped short - presumably so that none of the inmates could grab him in a fit of panic or aggression.
"Nurse Enid." The guard, probably no older than his early twenties, jumped up from his chair as they approached. His eyes fell on the visitors, and he immediately became more alert.
"Good afternoon, Jonathan. This here is Dr. Thurgood and his assistant, Mr. Eltingham," the nurse introduced the guests, pointing first to Benjamin and then to Kaylee and smiling in a friendly manner. "Dr. Thurgood is here to prepare a report for teaching purposes on Miss Clarence's case for St. Bartes Hospital in London." Dr. Archer's heart beat nervously faster at these words, and his smile was perhaps a little wry. His story was plausible and, given his medical knowledge, hard to refute. Nevertheless, he hated lying and never felt comfortable with it.
