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Author: Ron Ripley

Category: Horror

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  “Thank you, Isabella,” Ken replied. Behind him, the door opened, and he turned and hurried to it.

  Chapter 31: Running

  Brian got to the street, realized he still had Anne’s hand in his own and let go of it.

  She blushed and quickly put on her gloves before she handed him the book which had hit him.

  “Thanks,” Brian said. Before he could look at the title, the wind slammed into them both and forced them back down the road half a dozen steps.

  “What’s happening?” Anne asked, looking around.

  “The King is coming,” Brian said.

  “Brian! Anne!”

  Brian turned and saw Ken. The older man hurried towards them. His flashlight bobbed and the moon shined brightly upon them.

  “Are you okay?” Ken asked as Brian and Anne went to him.

  “I think so,” Brian said as Anne nodded.

  “What happened to your face?” Ken said. “You look like someone punched you in the eye.”

  Brian frowned and held up the book. “I got hit with this. Someone threw it at me and told me to take it.”

  “Well,” Ken said, “you better listen. I’ll bring you to my place, and you two can hunker down there. Plenty of canned goods if you don’t mind heating them up. Usually, I head into town and grab a meal, but not tonight. I’ve got to go to the head nurse’s house.”

  “What happened?” Brian asked as they all started to walk towards Ken’s house.

  “Eleanor and the Dog,” Ken said.

  “How bad is it?” Anne asked.

  “Don’t know yet,” Ken answered.

  “How do you know it was Eleanor and the dog then?” she said.

  “Isabella told me,” he said. “They’re all getting ready.”

  “Who?” Anne said.

  “The dead,” Brian said.

  Ken nodded.

  “They’re not here,” Brian said, looking around. “I don’t see any of them.”

  “They’re gathering some place. Some place close,” Ken said, and Brian could hear the nervousness in the man’s voice. “I’d love to get you two out right now, but I have to check the head nurse’s house. I need to get the Dog away if she’s there.”

  “She’s not there,” Anne said.

  “What?” Ken asked.

  Anne came to a stop, her face a deathly white.

  Brian and Ken stopped beside her, and Brian followed her line of vision.

  She stared at Ken’s place and the Dog, who sat patiently on the front step.

  And when Brian looked at it, the Dog started to growl.

  Chapter 32: Into Hiding

  Brian knew he couldn’t outrun the Dog.

  No one could.

  “Brian, Anne,” Ken said in a calm voice. “Do you see the small building off to your left?”

  Brian glanced and saw a narrow brick shed. The number ‘7’ was painted on the lintel.

  “Yes,” Brian said.

  “Yeah,” Anne replied.

  “Well,” Ken said, “we’re all going to walk towards the building. If the Dog comes off the stairs, make for the door. It’s unlocked.”

  “What about you?” Anne asked.

  Ken gave a tired chuckle. “I’ll slow the Dog down.”

  “Okay,” Brian said, holding onto the book tightly. “Let’s go.”

  The Dog watched them.

  Half a dozen feet from the shed the Dog leaped off of the stairs.

  The three of them ran for the door. Anne reached it first and opened it so forcefully the door bounced off the wall. Ken’s flashlight danced crazily around the walls as he pulled the door closed.

  A second later, the door shuddered loudly as the Dog slammed into it.

  Ken pointed his flashlight at a small, narrow door set into the far brick wall.

  “Open it,” he said, and Brian did so.

  A set of stairs led down to a cement floor. A pair of heavy-duty, older model flashlights hung from carrying straps just inside of the doorframe.

  “Each of you take a light,” Ken said, raising his voice over the sound of the Dog and cracking wood.

  Brian and Anne hurriedly did so, and Ken gestured to the stairs.

  “Down we go,” he said.

  Brian turned on his flashlight. The beam wide and powerful. Anne did the same, and she followed him as he descended to the sub-level. Once more Ken brought up the rear. He closed and locked the door behind them, and when he reached the floor, they all heard the door to the shed shatter beneath the weight of the Dog.

  The snuffling and sniffing of the Dog raised the hackles on Brian’s neck, and the anxious whine she let out made his heart pound.

  Ken slipped past them and then he turned around.

  “These are the tunnels under Middlebury,” he said, a tight, concerned look on his face. “They connect all of the buildings to one another. Some tunnels lead off into unknown places. There are seven buildings like the one we came through. Emergency exits to the grounds. Once a year I have to patrol through the tunnels, usually with two other guards.

  Ken paused. “There are things down here that are not…particularly fond of people. Stay close to me. None of the doors you find will be locked, but unless I open it, don’t touch it. Middlebury doesn’t allow the doors to be locked down here. Do you understand?”

  Brian nodded.

  “This about the only place left in the world that still scares the Hell out of me.” Ken said.

  “Middlebury doesn’t let the doors be locked?” Anne asked. “Don’t you mean the State of New Hampshire doesn’t?”

  “No,” Ken said grimly, “I mean the Sanitarium. It doesn’t like the doors to be locked. I stopped trying a long time ago. So, just follow me. Don’t stop unless I stop. Don’t run unless I run. And beware of everything.”

  Ken looked at them for a moment longer, and then he turned and led the way into darkness.

  Chapter 33: Ken Goes Under, July 1st, 1977

  When Ken punched in a little before eleven on Friday night, Gus was there at his desk. Ken glanced over at him uncomfortably.

  Gus nodded. “It’s never good when I’m here late, Ken.”

  “Yeah,” Ken said, stepping into Gus’ office. “I’ve noticed. What’s going on?”

  “Well,” Gus said, leaning back in his chair and putting his hands behind his head. “You know how Lenny retired this year?”

  “Yup.”

  “Since he retired,” Gus said with a sigh, “I need another man for the inspection. A solid guy who won’t break, and you’re the only person who’s not currently on the inspection team who fits the bill.”

  Ken frowned. “What inspection are you talking about, boss?”

  “The tunnel inspection. It needs to be done.”

  “I thought no one uses the tunnels. Aren’t they all secured?” Ken asked.

  Gus shook his head. “Not by far. Ernie will be doing the inspection with us. He’s at maintenance right now, getting some of their super-flashlights.”

  “I thought Ernie wasn’t doing third anymore,” Ken said. “Not since his wife got sick.”

  “He’s not,” Gus said. “He’s getting a little bit of overtime and a whole hell of a lot of money to do this with us.”

  “It’s going to be bad?” Ken asked after a moment.

  “The potential for it to go straight to hell is right at the top,” Gus said in a grim voice. “The tunnels are bad, Ken. Officially we stopped using them in nineteen fifty. There was a pretty bad accident in the tunnel connecting Building One to Building Two. To top it off we had a doctor, and a nurse disappear down there, too. But that was in forty-nine.”

  “What?” Ken asked, feeling confused. “How the hell can you disappear in the tunnels?”

  “Some of the tunnels don’t go anywhere, Ken,” Gus said softly. “They aren’t marked on the maps. Any of the maps. These tunnels look like the originals, but they just don’t go anywhere. When we go in, we go together. We walk together. We stay together. If I
can’t touch you, you’re too far away.”

  “If it’s so bad, Gus,” Ken said. “Why are we going in?”

  “To make sure nothing is getting out,” Gus said. “And to make certain none of our missing have ended up in there.”

  Ken started to ask another question, but Ernest came into the room. He was short and stocky, a miniature Atlas. He carried the three large flashlights, each of them nearly the size of a briefcase, in one hand. He nodded to Gus and Ken.

  “How are you doing, Ken?” Ernie asked, extending his free hand.

  “Doing well, Ernie,” Ken said, shaking it. “How’s your wife?”

  Ernie shrugged. “She’s a tough old bird. She’s hanging in there. Don’t know for how much longer, though.”

  “I’m sorry,” Ken said.

  Ernie nodded and turned to Gus. “We ready, boss?”

  “About as ready as we’ll ever be,” Gus said, pushing his chair away from his desk and standing up. “Grab a flashlight, Ken. Let’s get this done with.”

  Ken nodded, picked up one of the lights and waited for Gus to do the same and then to lead them on their way.

  Gus left the office with Ken and Ernie trailing behind him. The older man walked swiftly to the stairwell and went into it. Gus flipped on his own flashlight and illuminated a dark shadow. A slim door was revealed and surprised Ken. He’d been through up and down the stairs before, and he’d never known about the door.

  “Lights, gentlemen,” Gus said, and Ken turned on his own flashlight a moment after Ernie. “Remember what I said, Ken. We stay within touching distance at all times.”

  “You got it, Gus,” Ken said.

  Gus nodded, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

  The smell of stale air, tinged with ancient death, spilled out into the stairwell. Another set of stairs descended into darkness, and Ken felt his stomach tighten, and his testicles retract.

  Jesus, Ken thought. This is bad.

  But he followed Gus as the man went down the stairs. Ernie brought up the rear and closed the door behind them. A sense of hopelessness swept over Ken as the latch caught and clicked.

  “Don’t worry, Ken,” Ernie said in a comforting tone. “Middlebury won’t lock us in. She never locks any of us in.”

  “Always a first time,” Gus said in a warning tone. “So keep awake.”

  “Sleeping is the last thing I would do down here, boss,” Ken said.

  The three men swept the beams of their flashlights over the walls, ceiling and floor. They walked upon a pale gray tile, the walls of smooth cement which rose to an arch a few feet above their heads. The hall was cold and dark sconces with frosted glass shades stood every thirty feet.

  As the beams moved along ahead of them, Ken caught sight of a door set into the right wall. The number ‘27’ was painted in bright white on the wood.

  Ken glanced back at the door, but Ernie tapped him gently on the shoulder.

  “Eyes front, chief,” Ernie said lightly. “We don’t worry about any closed doors.”

  “And there are never any open doors?” Ken asked, coming to a stop.

  Gus and Ernie were both forced to stop. The older men frowned as they looked at him.

  “Yeah, kid,” Gus said, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice. “There aren’t ever any open doors.”

  “Well, what about the one on the left?” Ken asked, and he pointed his beam at a door just at the edge of his light.

  Gus and Ernie turned and brought their flashlights up to join his.

  A door stood slightly ajar. The number 1949 was painted on the wood.

  “What the hell?” Ernie asked.

  “Stay on me,” Gus said tightly. “Both of you.”

  The three of them formed a rough triangle. A half a step too far forward and Ken would walk into Gus. If he hesitated, Ernie would walk into him.

  The room was bad.

  He could feel his blood pound in his veins. He started to sweat despite the chill of the tunnel. Every sound became magnified.

  Soon they were at the door, which swung wide at their approach.

  Together they stopped at the threshold and Gus shined his light into the room beyond.

  The same tile on the floor of the tunnel was carried into the room and up the walls.

  “Do we go in?” Ernie asked.

  Before Gus could answer Ken said, “Yes.”

  Gus glanced over his shoulder at him. “You sure, kid?”

  Something told Ken ‘yes,’ and so he said, “Yeah, I’m sure.”

  “Okay,” Gus whispered, and he stepped into the room.

  The three of them moved quickly, and the room lengthened and widened as they walked in deeper.

  “Gus,” Ernie said.

  “Yeah?”

  “The door.”

  Ken looked behind him and saw the door was directly behind Ernie, even though they walked steadily away from it.

  “Damn,” Gus said. “Guess Middlebury doesn’t want us getting lost in here.”

  “Guess not,” Ernie agreed.

  “Hello?” a voice asked out of the darkness.

  It was a woman. Her voice came from far ahead of them.

  “Holy--,” Ernie whispered.

  “Hello,” Ken said, stepping in front of Gus and taking the lead.

  Footsteps echoed. Slowly at first and then quicker. Gus forced himself to walk cautiously.

  A moment later, a woman ran out of the darkness and into the light.

  Her blonde hair was disheveled, her makeup smeared. Desperately she kept a bloodied doctor’s coat clutched around her naked body. Her blue eyes dashed about wildly.

  “My God,” Gus whispered.

  “Help me!” the woman sobbed. “Oh please, help me!”

  Ken caught her in his arms and pulled her close. The blood was fresh, and the stink of iron filled his nose. She shook in his arms.

  “Watchman,” a small voice sang from the darkness beyond the flashlights. “Watchman.”

  More voices joined the first until it sounded as though dozens of them called out.

  “Who the hell is the watchman?” Ernie asked, a note of worry creeping into his voice.

  “I am,” Ken said. “I’m the watchman.”

  He gently passed the woman to Gus.

  “Come hither, fair and loyal Watchman,” the voices sang.

  Ken took a step forward.

  “Ken,” Gus said.

  Ken glanced back at him and smiled. His heart pounded against his chest as he said, “I have to, Gus. I’ll be right back. Middlebury doesn’t want me down here.”

  Before Gus could say anything else, Ken walked forward.

  The beam of his own flashlight broke free of the others as he stepped further into the curious room. The voices continued to call for him. They remained soft and gentle, playful as they called to him.

  After a few minutes, blood appeared on the floor. Just a few drops, then a pair of women’s shoes, black kitten heels. Torn nylons. A ripped white skirt and a matching blouse. An antique nurse’s cap on its side. Panties and a brassiere.

  The blood thickened.

  Men’s Oxfords. Tweed pants and a pressed shirt. Boxer shorts and a t-shirt.

  Blood was everywhere.

  And then Ken reached the wall, the owners of the voices and the source of the blood.

  Small, vile creatures of pale white, perhaps half a foot high. Skin stretched taut over thin bones. Milky white eyes and toothless mouths. They looked like perverted versions of sprites or fairies. Each finger on their small hands was tipped with a jagged black nail.

  The strange little things crawled over and around a bloody form slumped against the wall. It had been a man, at one time, yet they had skinned him. They fed themselves, and each other bits of the skin, pulled at the muscles and toyed with the tendons.

  And the man was still alive.

  His wide, maddened eyes dashed about, robbed of their eyelids. His mouth, barren of the tongue, tried to scream, but hi
s lips had been severed and devoured.

  “Watchman,” the things cried out as one. “Behold madness and lust in its purest form.”

  Ken turned and ran for the light of his friends.

  Chapter 34: Seeking Shelter

  “The Dog’s not trying to get down here,” Anne said.

  “Of course not,” Ken said. “The Dog’s smarter than we are.”

  Brian felt uncomfortable. The tunnel was wrong. Paul Kenyon had been a choir boy compared to what waited under the earth and between the buildings. Brian could feel it in his gut. It was a strange feeling wishing he was facing that deranged little bast…”

  “You okay, Brian?” Ken asked.

  “Yeah,” Brian said. “Quicker we’re above ground the better, though.”

  “Truer words were never spoken,” Ken said, leading the way.

  “How long until we get to the next door?” Brian asked.

  “The next door to another building?” Ken said.

  “Yeah,” Brian replied.

  “Depends,” Ken said.

  “What do you mean?” Anne asked.

  “I mean it all depends on Middlebury,” Ken said. “Sometimes it might take a few minutes to walk from Building Two to Building One. The next year it might take three hours. It all depends.”

  “How is that even possible?” Anne asked. “It doesn’t make any sense. It’s not natural.”

  “I think you just answered the question,” Brian said gently. He continued to follow Ken. Anne, in turn, stayed close to Brian. The powerful beams of the flashlights swept back and forth in front of them, and the tunnel continued.

  Whispers slipped out of the shadows, fell upon them from the ceiling.

  Brian knew they were far from alone.

  Yet he hadn’t seen any of them.

  The dead hid from them. The dead hid from him.

  Why? he thought. Why are they hiding?

  “What are they saying?” Anne asked softly.

  “You don’t want to know,” Ken said, his voice grim.

  A pair of doors appeared on the left. One was numbered 1899, and the other 1919.

 

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