I wake to a tapping sound coming from all around. I look to the windows and see rain pouring down, soaking everything. It's dark in the room, still early. I lay back down, hoping to fall sleep again.
When I know sleep isn't going to come to me I get up and head towards the library. I open the door and walk to the shelfs, skimming the books. I pull one titled Grimm's Fairy Tales and sit at the desk.
A tall candle in a holder rests on the desk. I dig around in the drawers, and find matches. I pray they still work, and thankfully they do. I light the candle and begin to read. The room is quiet, blocking out the rain. A dripping sound is still loud, but it is raining. After a minute I realize it's in front of me. I look towards the dripping sound, following it to the puddle. The ground is stained red in the middle of the room. I slowly look up, fearing the worst.
My screams fill the mostly silent house, and I run back into the foyer and see the sitting figures of George and Chloe. George jumps up and comforts me.
"What is it?" He brushed the hair out of my face. I can't say anything, the words coming out as air. Instead I just point towards the library. George rushes in, a gasp is all I hear. Chloe follows him, and I try to grab her but I'm too late. She looks up at Tony's body hanging from the chandelier. He's crudely stabbed with needles attached to IV tubes. Blood drips from a tube, into the puddle. An inexplicable marigold flower sits in the puddle. Chloe sobs and throws herself on me.
"We need to get out of here." I say. I have to be strong enough for the both of us. George leads us to the trap door, guiding Chloe into the tunnel. I follow and shut the it. I pull out my phone and shine it down the tunnel.
George and I start walking but Chloe doesn't move. She stands petrified with her eyes shut.
"Let's go Chloe." I take her hand and pull her. She doesn't move, instead she sits and tugs on the sleeves of the sweat shirt she's wearing. I realize it was the one Tony was wearing. I guess he gave it to her last night.
She sobs silently, her shoulders shaking. George and I exchange glances, unsure of what to do. She wraps herself in his hoodie, breathing in and out deeply.
"Why. Why did it have to be him?" It takes her a minute to get all her words out. She mumbles something else I can't make out.
"Chloe, we need to get out of here. And we can't do that if you won't move." I feel like I'm addressing a five year old. She stays still.
"I loved him. Who would do that to him?" I want to laugh at the fact she chose to say love. It would be insensitive though. Love, a stupid thing really. There is never "love" like people want, the fairytale kind. There is a time when people do believe there is fairytale love, I call it blind love. It's better known as the "honeymoon phase" though.
"I know. I know you loved him. We still need to get out of here, Chlo. We aren't safe." I tug gently on her arm.
"I don't want to go on without him. I loved him." What do I say to that?
"Chloe. We need to get out of here. We need to get away from him. He's gone, and I'm sorry, but staying here won't help us. Tony would have wanted you to get out." I don't know what I'm saying, I'm just hoping the over emotional wreck she is believes it. She nods, wiping her eyes. She struggles to her feet, holding extremely tight to my hand. We make our way down the tunnel, keeping our eyes peeled for the ladder. I see it and pull Chloe towards it. George climbs up, pulling Chloe up behind him. She just stands in the asylum, pulling at the hoodie.
I look for another door, hoping to find somewhere we haven't been. I find a metal one, leading to some metal stairs. I motion for them to follow me, Chloe dragging along. Up the stairs leads to another flight, and another metal door. I open the door, looking down a hall with gurneys and carts cluttering it.
I make my way through them, towards the open doors along the wall. I peak inside, the same basic layouts, a bed and ceiling light. Must be where they kept the patients.
"I heard the Maynor's believed that if they had the patients work in the church it would save them. Also, from my in depth research of this place, I've learned the reason they shut it down was one of the higher risk patients had attacked and killed mrs. Maynor. Her husband soon followed, dying of broken heart. The name of the patient was hard to find, all I could find was his last name, Chaise. Maybe it was Humberd Chaise. I want to check in the book." George talks over Chloe's sobs. "Chloe, do you want to come check with me?" He asks. She shakes her head and follows me.
"I'm going to go check, if you don't mind." He says. I nod and continue to look in the rooms.
"Just come back when you're done." I say.
"Be safe." He stands in front of me for a minute, before wrapping his hand around my waist and pulling me against him. He puts his mouth to mine. He lets go of me and begins to walk away. I hear the metal door shut as he leaves.
"Chloe. Please stop crying. Be strong, we will get through this. It may not seem worth it, but I swear we will make it out alive. It may seem like nothing matters, but I need you." I keep talking till she stops crying.
"Sorry. I just-"
"Don't think about it. Everything will be fine." I cut her off. She nods and wipes her eyes. I'm glad she finally stopped. I turn and walk back towards the stairs, making sure Chloe is near.
I climb up another floor, instead of a metal door though, it's a wooden one. It leads to a cafeteria, much like the other one. This one actually smells like food. The tables have chairs set on top of them. One table has 3 chairs on the floor, and food set on the table. I cautiously walk over, looking at the styrofoam plates.
"The food looks fresh, and the plates are new. I'm also hungry." I laugh at the last part. Humor is what keeps me sane. I sit down, followed by Chloe.
"I mean, if it's poisoned it won't be worse than trying to escape right, and if it's safe we won't be hungry." Chloe says, justifying our decision.
I grab the fork and twist the pasta and shovel it in. It tastes so good, just like how my mom makes it. The sauce tangy, and the pasta soft and flavorful. I don't think I stopped to breathe, but I know I ate all of it quicker than anything else I've done. The rolls were also like my moms, extremely fluffy. Strange, both were family recipes. Maybe Harley made them. Wow I'm going crazy, thinking my dead sister made dinner.
