What Was Left Behind

Chapter 2: Hollow Places

The wind howled through the broken windows of the old Hillstone Psychiatric Facility, a sound like whispers carried on the air. Maia stood at the edge of the road, staring at the crumbling building as it loomed in the distance, half-hidden by the fog that clung to the trees. She hadn't been here in years, not since her father died, and yet every detail was still familiar—the faded brick walls, the vines that had crept up the sides, reclaiming the structure inch by inch.

It felt like the past was breathing down her neck, pulling her back into memories she didn't want to face. But Camilla was somewhere out there, and Maia knew this place held the key. It had to.

She glanced at the sagging fence that surrounded the property, the "No Trespassing" sign barely legible under years of weather and neglect. It wasn't going to stop her. Nothing was going to stop her now. The police had dismissed this place, called it irrelevant, but Maia wasn't ready to let it go. Not when her instincts screamed that this was where everything had started. And maybe, where everything had ended.

Pulling her jacket tighter around herself, Maia made her way down the gravel path that led to the facility, her steps muffled by the damp earth. The silence here was thick, broken only by the occasional rustle of wind through the overgrown grass. Every step felt heavier, like she was walking into something she couldn't see, something waiting just out of reach.

The past hung in the air, a weight Maia could feel pressing against her chest, tightening with every step she took toward the building. She hadn't been back here since her father's death, and even though her mother had always spoken about him with a kind of hushed reverence, Maia had never understood why. The man had been a mystery. He had kept his work life separate, his late-night meetings behind closed doors, and when he wasn't working, he had been distant, always just out of reach. And then, just like that, he was gone.

Now, years later, standing in front of the place that had swallowed so much of his time, Maia couldn't shake the feeling that he'd known more than he'd ever let on. Secrets were buried here. Secrets that had followed her family even after his death.

She reached the front door, which hung loosely on rusted hinges, and pushed it open with a creak that echoed through the empty hall beyond. The air inside was thick with dust, the faint smell of mildew clinging to everything. The hallway stretched out before her, lined with old, peeling wallpaper and doors that led to forgotten rooms. It was as if time had stopped here, frozen in place, leaving the building to decay in silence.

Her breath caught in her throat as she stepped inside, the weight of the place settling over her like a shroud. The walls seemed to close in, and for a moment, she hesitated, wondering if this was a mistake. But then she thought of Camilla, of her smile, her laugh, the way she always seemed so alive. That was enough to push Maia forward.

The floor creaked beneath her feet as she moved deeper into the building, her eyes scanning the hall for any sign of life. But there was nothing—no sound, no movement, just the steady beat of her own heart pounding in her chest.

What am I even looking for? The thought crossed her mind more than once as she moved from room to room. Dusty furniture, broken windows, empty spaces. The whole place felt like a tomb. She hadn't expected to find Camilla here, not really, but she had hoped for something—a clue, a sign, anything that would tell her she was on the right track.

But the building seemed to swallow her up, offering nothing in return.

She reached what must have been the main lobby, a large, open room with a high ceiling and a cracked chandelier that hung precariously above. The place was falling apart, yet there was still something... off about it. Something that made Maia's skin crawl.

Her fingers brushed the edge of a rusted filing cabinet that had been tipped over, its contents scattered across the floor. She crouched down, her eyes catching on an old, yellowed piece of paper peeking out from under a pile of debris. Carefully, she pulled it free, her heart skipping a beat when she saw the name at the top of the page.

"Lockhart, Dr. James—Patient Records".

Maia's breath hitched. Her father's name.

The paper was brittle, the edges crumbling as she unfolded it carefully. The text was faded, but she could still make out the words—patient reports, meeting notes, dates. It was a record of his time here at the facility, back when he had been one of the lead doctors. Maia's hands trembled as she read the notes, her eyes narrowing at the mention of experimental treatments and clinical trials.

She flipped through the rest of the papers, each one more disturbing than the last. Names of patients she didn't recognize, cryptic references to something called "Project Mend," and detailed observations about their conditions. Her father had been involved in something big—something he had never talked about. And it wasn't the kind of medical practice that you bragged about.

Her chest tightened as she read through the notes. Had her father been part of something darker? Something that had gone wrong? It made sense now—the closed-door meetings, the secrecy, the way her mother never spoke of his work. And all this time, Maia had thought he was just a distant, busy man. But what if it was more than that?

What if this place, this crumbling ruin of a facility, held more than just the past?

Maia's heart raced as her mind connected the dots. What if Camilla's disappearance wasn't random? What if her father's work and the disappearances were somehow connected? The idea seemed absurd at first, but the more she thought about it, the more it felt like the pieces were falling into place.

She stood, clutching the papers in her hands, and glanced around the room. The building was too quiet, too still. Something about this place had always felt wrong, but now, it felt like she was standing on the edge of something much bigger than she had realized.

A soft sound broke the silence—a creak, like the sound of footsteps. Maia froze, her heart pounding in her ears. She hadn't seen anyone else in the building when she arrived, but now, she wasn't so sure. Slowly, she turned toward the hallway, her eyes narrowing as she listened for the sound again.

Nothing.

She took a cautious step forward, her grip tightening on the papers. Was someone else here? Or was her mind just playing tricks on her, the weight of the past too much for her to bear?

The silence stretched on, thick and oppressive, but no more sounds followed. Maia forced herself to breathe, to calm the frantic beat of her heart. She was alone. She had to be.

But something had shifted. The air felt different now, charged with an energy she couldn't explain. Whatever secrets this place held, Maia knew she was getting closer to the truth. And that truth, whatever it was, had the power to change everything.

She pocketed the papers, her mind spinning with questions, and made her way toward the exit. The building seemed to watch her as she left, its hollow windows like eyes, following her every step. Maia didn't stop until she was outside, the fog closing in around her as she stood at the edge of the property.

The cold air hit her face, and she inhaled deeply, trying to shake the feeling of being watched. But it lingered, clinging to her like the mist that wrapped around the trees. Something wasn't right here, and it wasn't just the crumbling walls and broken windows. There was a presence in that building—something unseen, something waiting.

As she made her way back to the main road, Maia's thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion and suspicion. Her father's records, the experiments, Camilla's disappearance—it was all connected somehow. She just needed to figure out how.

She glanced over her shoulder one last time at the facility, barely visible now through the thick fog. The past was catching up, faster than she had anticipated. And if she wasn't careful, it would swallow her whole.

But she couldn't stop. Not now. Not when she was this close to finding out the truth.