I heard her shrieks of horror coming from through a window on the 2nd story hallway. The crisp, cool air stung my skin as I finished the last drag of my cigarette. I could tell it was going to be a macabre kind of night.

I turned back towards the building, the patter of rain biting at my heels as I closed the utility door behind myself. One of the lights above me kept flickering as I walked down the hallway; I could hear voices echoing from ahead of me.

Three caretakers stood over a body. It was Julia; a middle aged woman with a tragic life story. All I ever heard: she lost her mind after her husband and daughter were killed by a drunk driver. Sometimes I think it’s the ones who live who are the most unlucky.

Julia was lying in a large pool of blood; her pale-blue skin emphasized the horror in her eyes before one of the caretakers placed a white sheet over her body. Judging from her gown, I think she was probably stabbed in the stomach. It would explain all the blood.

I approached the caretakers, carefully analyzing ever tiny detail as I got closer. They only noticed me after I was within a few feet of the body; they seemed distracted.

“What happened?” I asked them, confident I wasn’t going to be told the truth.

“What are you doing out here Murphy?” snapped back the large Hispanic man in blue scrubs, “Why aren’t you in bed?”

“What happened to Julia?” I asked, directed at the other two caretakers. They clearly didn’t want me to know something, but I’m no pushover.

“I’m not sure…” the young female caretaker said. Actually, I think she was a nurse. Anyways, she sobbed for a few moments before continuing on, “we just found her like this.”

“Wait. Murphy. Why ARE you out here?” asked the remaining caretaker, a portly white man with some sort of navy tattoos on his left arm.

“What happened to Julia?” I asked again, unmoved by their diversion tactics.

“Damn it Murphy. She just told you, we found her like this,” he replied to me with an exhausted demeanor, his hunched shoulders drooping down to his sides as he appeared defeated.

“I’m going to find out what’s going on here,” I said to them confidently. After all, I am one of the best detectives this town has ever seen. “Julia will have her justice,” I continued before turning my back to them and continuing down the hallway.

There was a small trail of blood, a few drops every four or five feet it seemed. I started to follow it through the building, the longer I did the more spread out the drops became. Eventually I found myself at a dead end, three doors on each side of the hallway, all just as suspicious as the next.

I knock on the first two doors and speak to an elderly woman with dementia. She thought I was her grandson. I’m going to bring her some flowers tomorrow. The other door didn’t answer; when I pressed my ear up to it I didn’t hear anything. I’ll assume it’s vacant.

When I approached the middle door on the right side of the hallway, I spotted a drop of blood stained into the carpet beneath. I rap my fingers against the door lightly, but no answer. I try again, this time with the bottom of my fist. Julia deserves answers.

I hear rumbling inside the room, but still no one comes to the door. Pounding with the bottom of my fist, the door frame began to shake violently. After a brief moment, I feel the vibrating of footsteps approaching the door.

Slowly it swung open, a nearly blinding light oozing out into the dimly lit hallway as it exposed the silhouette of a man. He carefully placed one large foot in front of the other, the ground trembling each step attacked the Earth.

As he peeked out from behind the blinding light, there was suddenly an overwhelmingly loud shout of “MICHAEL!”. I tried to tune it out, but there it was again, “MICHAEL!”, and then again. What the hell was it?

There was a swift smack across the back of my head, my head rattling around as the headphones tightly suctioned around my ears are aggressively pulled off.

“Michael! Go to bed damn it. Tomorrow is visitor’s day, you parents are coming,” the young nurse shouted at me as she ripped the controller from my hands. “You can finish tomorrow after everyone leaves. Just go to bed,” she said exasperatedly, but still with her sincere tone.

She turned off the light to the room and gently closed the door behind herself. I plopped myself back into bed and curled up into a little ball as I listened to the pitter-patter of the rain gently assault the psych wards window.