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Darkness engulfed Joseph, who felt his feet leave the ground. The scene of Harry falling continued to play through his mind, like an infinite loop. Winona's laughter rang in his ears. He just wanted this nightmare to end soon and be nothing more than this: a nightmare.'I must be very tired and I'm just hallucinating. That's it. None of this is real!' he repeated to himself, eyes closed and covering his ears to try to stifle that hideous laugh.As soon as his feet touched the ground again, Joseph opened his eyes. He looked around and, once again, he was in that cursed cabin. He got up, staggering, and headed for the door. Incredibly, it opened without objection, allowing him to leave.Joseph ran back to the road, where the car was parked on the side of the road. The snow wasn't as fluffy as before and he didn't get stuck like he thought he would.He took the key out of his pocket, and his trembling fingers had a hard time getting the small metal object and inserting it into the lock o
Candace was outside the room 647, unable to mutter a word. Her eyes were focussed on the white wall in front of her. A little red stain was there. Almost invisible. ‘Is it blood?’, Candace asked herself. Mildred was taking care of all the arrangements, including having to talk to Joseph's family and, of course, dealing with the police. "Darling, take it." The smoke from the hot coffee made Candace look at the small Styrofoam cup, filled with the steaming liquid, and then at the woman holding it. The blue eyes behind the glasses expressed both empathy and concern. Candace didn't say anything, just held the cup, while Mildred smiled at her and walked away. She had a lot to do. When Mildred returned, the cup was still in Candace's hand, and the coffee was very cold. Mildred took a deep breath. She had been working at the hospital for some time and was used to the occasional patient passing away, especially since most of them were elderly. Many of them with some illness, not only ment
"Mr Staton, look what I brought you!" Candace entered the room, almost singing. Mr. Staton was a resident of the Rest and Care Asylum long before her arrival. Apparently, he was one of the oldest in the institution. Candace had been working there for at least 5 months. Working with the elderly was something she enjoyed and was already used to. After all, she was practically raised by her maternal grandmother, as her mother worked too much and her father was not a very reliable person. When her grandmother began to show signs of dementia, Candace was the one who took care of her. Candace opened the door and poked her head into room 647. The bed was empty, so she went in and placed the tray of food on top of the dresser. "Mr. Staton?" She called and, as she there was no answer, she continued to look for him. She headed to the bathroom. The door was open ajar and he was sitting on the toilet, still wearing his pajama pants. Candace took a step back, looking away to give himsome privac
Candace decided not to retort about the man's lack of kindness, just paid for her ticket and headed for the available seat closest to the exit door. Looking out the bus window, she didn't see anyone nearby. She really was exhausted. She must have been impressed by what happened in Room 647, to continue hearing the phrase Mr. Staton had spoken. The drive to her house was smooth. After about half an hour, she arrived at her destination and motioned for the bus to stop. She saw the smirk still on the driver's face as he glanced in the rearview mirror. She shook her head, disapproving of his behavior and got out of the vehicle. She lived in an apartment two blocks from the bus stop. The day had been reasonably hot, but it had cooled off at night. All she wanted was to get home, take a nice shower and get something to eat. The grocery store around the corner was open, so she went in, bought some sausages, macaroni and cheese. She was definitely in no condition to cook anything fancy. Sh
With that thought circling her mind, Candace more than quickly looked around for something she could use as a weapon. She picked up the umbrella lying next to the wall and held it like an axe. She went to the kitchen, shivering. She looked under the small bench she used as a table and there was no one there. The bathroom. On tiptoe, she made her way over to it, facing the door and breathing hard, plucking up the courage to step inside. She gripped the doorknob, sucked in a deep breath, and yanked it open, ending with a kick. There was no one there, but the tub was full and she hadn't used it to bathe after getting home from work. She showered, instead. She dropped the umbrella on the floor and opened the bathtub drain to let the water out. She sat on the toilet with the lid down and let out a sigh. In the stillness of the morning, the phone rang, causing Candace to jump, scared. Was it from work? It was too early for anyone to call if it wasn't an emergency. She ran into the living
Malcolm opted for a nice chocolate pancake, with caramel syrup and chocolate chips on top. Candace, on the other hand, stayed with the traditional dough and cookie syrup. "You have chosen very well. I've never seen this syrup, and although I love cookies, I was afraid I wouldn't like it. I hate choosing the wrong food." He commented, which made Candace's eyes light up, as this was something she herself used to talk about all the time. "So you did well. Even so it tastes special, it is a bit too sweet. I may think it's wonderful and you, sir, don't. If you want to try it..." She said. "Please, 'sir', no! I'm past thirty, but I still don't look that old. Do I?" Candace's mouth dropped open. She didn't mean to be rude! "I swore you were younger." She commented. "For real? I'm thirty-one years old now. And you must be kidding me. You even called me 'sir'." He said, lifting his chin and pretending to be offended. "Why, si-" she stopped and corrected herself, "you, even at thirty, are
After shopping, Malcoln took Candace back to her apartment. There, they bump into Karen, who greeted them. Karen didn't like Malcoln very much. Something about him seemed a bit false. She was hardly wrong when she had these hunches, and that's why she was worried about Candace. Back at the apartment, Candace looked around herself, scanning everything she could find there to see if there was anything odd. But apparently, everything was in its place. She took the bag with the new phone and went to plug it in. As soon as she was done, she went to the bathroom. On her way out, while drying her hair, she heard the phone ringing. She took a deep breath and took the phone off the hook. "Hello?" She said, with some trepidation. "Candace? Thank God! We've been calling you for at least two hours!" Mildred Summers. The reception and administration nurse. "Oh, it's just that I didn't have a phone. I got a little sick and ended up just going out to buy another one in the afternoon." Candace exp
Candace dropped the tray of medications on the floor, scattering the pills across the everywhere. She opened her mouth to scream, but no matter how hard she tried, no sound came out. Joseph continued to stare at her with only one eye in place, and a lunatic laugh escaped his mouth, getting louder and louder. When her legs finally came back to life, she rushed to the door and desperately opened it. "Help! Help!" She screamed and, quickly, Scott appeared there, startled. She was running, looking back, towards Staton's room and ended up being hugged by Scott, after she bumped into him, who stopped and toke her by the shoulders. "What happened??" He asked and, seeing that she didn't say anything coherent, he shook her and she finally mumbled something. "His eye is no longer there. B-bleeding." Scott let go of Candace and ran to Room 647. He saw both the tray and the medicine on the floor, but Joseph Staton was in bed, sleeping peacefuly. How the old man didn't wake up to all that scream