The Deal: Muirmill Asylum Part 2

Friday, 15 January 2016


‘There is one story that actually hinges on being believable.’ He said through a cloud of grey smoke.
   ‘Really?’ My body suddenly became alive again as he got my curiosity. Every bullshit story normally has some small element of truth in it, even if it was just a tiny fragment it could be all that I needed.
   ‘Yeah. This story goes along the lines that the same two doctors started accepting perfectly sane people into the asylum so they could mentally torture them and essentially make them insane.’
   I watched the rain drops hit the window next to where I sat and then turn into rivulets as the speed of the cab increased once again.
   ‘You didn’t believe the story about the loft but you think that one might be true?’ I couldn’t understand his reasoning.
   ‘Well it’s not uncommon for someone to pretend their nuts to get themselves out of trouble. You know, like those idiots that get caught by the cops and pretend to be schizoid. So instead of being sent to jail they would be sent to a place like Muirmill.’
   I actually felt quite stupid once he had explained his thoughts on that story. Stupid because the insanity plea is probably about the only option left on the table for a killer like myself when the law eventually catches up with you. It also wasn’t unheard of for some of the doctors to be more insane than their patients, so I could see now why that story was more believable to the taxi driver.
   Then again, after experiencing what I had, the loft story did not sound all that far-fetched either, but there was no way I could tell that to the cabby.
   ‘Oh, there was one other story.’ Said the driver and he actually chuckled at the thought of it. ‘Someone once told me that while they were inside the building they could see this huge monster with wings. Apparently it was trying to find something and it couldn’t leave until it did.’
   Monster with wings? Images of the Grimoyle’s quickly sprung to the forefront of my mind. It was the vision of those monstrous creatures that solidified my determination to carry on with my quest. If Satan’s winged demons where there searching for something, most likely another artefact I presumed, then I needed to find it first.
   ‘Now that does sound like complete bullshit.’ I said, forcing a laugh that I simply did not feel.
   ‘Jesus Christ, yeah. I get some seriously fucked up individuals in the back of this old tin bucket,’ and with that he returned his attention to the road and silence befell the interior of the cab.
   At some point I understood that I was going to have to stand up to Satan. Whether I would win the fight or not wasn’t something I dwelled on at that point simply because I knew I needed a lot more help in the form of the ancient artefacts that the dark lord himself had been sending me to collect on his behalf.
   Where are you Pertilius? I couldn’t help but think to myself as I continued to watch the rain splatter against my window, which turned the buildings outside into twisted and deformed versions of themselves.
   There was no familiar plume of black smoke or that strange electric buzzing I got in my ear before he would appear. It seemed that I was on my own this time, and despite wanting more information on what I should be looking for, I was actually quite satisfied to be left alone for the time being.
   I looked down at the gold ring on my index finger where my wedding band used to be. It looked dull and lifeless. There was no shimmering glow or any other indication that one of Satan’s hell spawn was getting closer. This made me feel a little bit better too since I wanted a chance to find out what it was I was looking for first before starting a fight with the winged demon.
   Then something occurred to me that I had forgotten to ask the young lady at the archives, but possibly the cabby might be able to answer.
   ‘When they closed the building down, did they remove all the patient records?’
   ‘Nah, they left all that shit where it was. Probably not many of them left now though by the time all the scavengers have been and gone. Although there is a crazy ass story about the records too.’
   ‘Really. How crazy?’ I couldn’t help but ask.
   ‘Seriously crazy.’
   ‘Try me.’
   ‘Well, from what I was told there was two different places where they kept the patient records. The main record room would hold all the records for those who were really insane and then there was a separate room somewhere on the top floor containing all the records of those who were just trying to keep their sorry asses out of prison. As far as I know it’s all bullshit. No one has ever been able to find that room.’ The driver actually sounded quite pleased with himself as he threw the remains of his cigarette out the window and into the rain soaked streets.
   He would never know just how much his unbelievable stories where actually helping me to focus on where I needed to look. If nothing else he had given me two solid locations that I had to check before looking anywhere else in the building.
   How easy it was going to be to get access to these rooms, especially the one on the top floor that no one could seem to locate, was an entirely different matter.

Muirmill asylum was built way back during the early days of New York. As my cab came to a full stop in front of the building where the main gates had once been, I could see why there was so many horror stories about the place.
   Under the depressing grey sky it was a monolithic, gothic style structure build from pure sandstone. The parameter wall which spanned the entire circumference of the building, was impressive. It had to be at least twelve feet tall and during its later years some enlightened soul had decided that razor wire would also be a good deterrent to stop the vandals and thief’s from getting in and the crazies from getting out.
   I slid the old cab driver sixty dollars and stepped back out into the pouring rain. I watched as the cab disappeared back down the long wood lined pathway which would lead him back to civilization, before turning my attention back to the asylum.
   I started walking, slowly, trying to take in everything that I could as I passed through the large gap where the wrought iron gates would have once hung. I noted that those afore mentioned gates had been left lying on the once pristine lawns. Discarded like they were no obstacle at all and I could instantly envision what kind of winged creature had the strength to rip them off their hinges like they were made of paper.
   Yep. The grimoyle’s are definitely here. I thought, as I turned my attention back to the rest of the building. The gravel driveway opened out into a circular court yard where I could see a concrete and colourless fountain was the centre piece.
   The lawns, which at one time would have been mowed on a weekly basis, where now overgrown with weeds and other varieties of wildflowers. As I got closer to the fountain I suddenly began to feel quite small when I glanced up at the building which just seemed to grow larger with every step I took towards it.
   There was at least four floors and all of the small windows which lined the building from the second floor upwards had rusted steel bars criss-crossing them, obviously to stop the patients from escaping.
   After a few minutes of walking I finally reached the fountain which reminded of the one I had seen in hell. It was made of pure concrete and depicted a female nurse holding a cross while her other hand was on the head of a distraught looking man who I assumed was a patient of some kind.
   The fountains basin was coated with a green sludge and only a small puddle of dirty rain water covered the bottom of it. At its far side which faced the main entrance of the building I could see someone had decided to leave their wheelchair to rot in the fountains basin too.
   After a minute or so of investigating the fountain I turned my attention back to the asylum its self. I’m certain any other human being would have took one look at the building and gave some serious thought to even going near its main doors which I noticed where slightly ajar.
   In my case, I was probably the only person to grace the derelict ruins who actually had made a deal with Satan. I was probably the only one who had come with more than a notion to raid it for anything valuable.
   Of course what I was looking for was valuable, but probably only to me and the dark lord himself. And if Pertilius was to be believed even the dark lord of hell did not fully understand the power of the old relics.
   A strange feeling washed over me as I started walking towards the heavy wooden doors which would lead me inside. It was a feeling of knowing that there was something else here for me. Not just the obvious, which would be the artefact, whatever it may be disguised as. No there was more here for me personally. Somewhere inside was information that would help me fill in the blanks about my wife’s past and hopefully help me understand how she came to be under Satan’s control.
   A set of four, wide circular sandstone steps lead the way up to the front doors. I took each one slowly and purposefully, not only trying to be as silent as I possible could be, but also listening for anything coming from inside the asylum, such as a huge winged demon.
   I could hear nothing but the sound of birds chirping and the scuttle of tiny feet which most likely belonged to the rats which had always called the building their home.
   However, as I stepped on to the fourth and last sandstone pad my body suddenly went rigid for a brief second as a wave of electric energy coursed through my body. It was the same sensation I had suffered back in the apartment before I left to come to Muirmill and it was the same sensation I always got when the dark lord or his minions where about to appear in my presence.
   This time I could feel my heart beating that bit faster as the electric zapping sensation subsided. The doors to the building where ajar but not open enough for me to see inside. I tried to listen for life inside and still I could hear nothing. I glanced around in all directions taking in the overgrown lawns and the depressing fountain. Nothing. Not human or otherwise.
   Yet I felt certain that there was something trying to get my attention. As sure as I felt there was something watching me as I left my apartment over an hour ago. Something wasn’t right and whoever it was, did not want to show themselves. If only there was an artefact that could zap the bastards who try to hide from me.
   I’ll need to ask Pertilius if such a thing exists. I thought, turning my back on the world and pulling the two heavy oak doors open.
   What they revealed wasn’t much more than I already expected. Before me was a large foyer which separated into smaller hallways which in turn branched off in various directions on both sides of the building. Hospital gurneys, wheelchairs and various other stainless steel medical instruments lay scattered across the floor.



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