In 1992 I began working as a custodian at the Wilmshire Home for the Criminally Insane. It already doesn't sound appealing I'm sure, but when you need the money you don't really ask to much out of your job criteria.
The job was relatively normal for a custodial position. I worked the grave yard shift with two other guys. Red and Jake. Red had worked the asylum for years. Super sketchy guy, always had an "I've seen some shit" look in his eye. Kind of like a war vet who didn't really ever leave the battlefield. But his quietness was about as close to friendly as you could get.
Jake was.. well, the opposite. A talker, twenty I think. Relatable sure, but you could hear the lack of life experience in his conversation. Always talking about his dad's boat and his "gnarley weekend on lake tinnime bro."
I just kept my headphones full blast around my neck and clicked down the play button with a hard "CLACK" right around the time he'd start one of his persistent little weekend warrior tales. If that didn't get his attention the steppinwolfe MAGIC CARPET RIDE that blared out of my Walkman headphones usually cut him off. But most of time he caught the hint that I just wanted to mop my floor and go the fuck home.
And that's how most of the shifts went. We'd sweep, mop and if need be wax the equipment scuffs out of the floors. We'd empty trash bins, wipe down desk tops and then pack up and move to the next building; and the grounds housed 3 buildings in total. 4 if you count reception. However they have their own cleaning service. So the buildings, Blocks A,B and C. Were used to separate patients by severity of mental illness or committed crime.
The first building of the Night; (A) housed the base offenders. Some people were medically admitted; suicide watch type stuff. A scitzophrenic or two on routine admission after a public assault or domestic violence incident. The building was relatively peaceful.
Block B was a little more intense..
Seriously violent people were housed here.. the rooms were locked at night. No call lights above doors, no house keeping or nurses were ever around.. just a lone security officer who'd buzz us in when we'd swipe our cards in front of the reader at block B's main entrance.
The wailing was muffled sure. The cells were thick of "self harm negating foam". Is what Red called it. Even still I kept my Walkman full blast.
My first two weeks on the job Red would send me home right before we'd gear up for block C.
"Listen kid, you ain't ready for what goes on in C. Just deal with A and B for now."
I'd protest, slam Red about cutting my house and shit but he was adamant that I hold off.
"Look, I'll clock you out in the morning until you're ready. You won't lose a minute; but God damn it.. you ain't ready for C."
So I did what I was told. Two weeks turned into four amd before I knew it it had been almost a year and I had never actually stayed the full shit. Fuck I even forgot about C and it wasn't just me. Red wouldn't let Jake help in the final Block either. Jake didn't mind, gave him more time to rest up for his "crazy weekend clubbin with my boy Richard."
So it went like this for awhile. Until the night Red about didn't show up to work.. We were a little confused because he was already out on the floor by the time us younger folk clocked in but we managed through block A in am awkward silence. Missing the direction of our shift lead I guess. When we checked into Block B the guard handed me a note. It read.
"Red's wife called.
In hospital.
Stroke."
"Oh man.." I remember just leaning against the counter a little upset. He wasn't the nicest guy but he was covering two guys work load every night. I felt a little guilty.
Jake had been reading over my shoulder and my thought process was cut short with his irritated "Ah man this fucking sucks, now we gotta do Block C what the fuck man."
I turned toward him and clacked the stop button on my cassette.
"Speaking of.. have you ever been in C? Not sure of the layout.."
Jake rolled his shoulders, "Nah, Red never let me go. Can't be much different than the first two."
The security guard snorted and flipped the page on his magazine.
" What? You ever been there?"
He thumbed another page without looking up from his story.
" Nope, had to track down an escaped patient once though. Found him after about 4 hours."
Jake and I exchanged glances. A few moments of awkward silence clearly stated he didn't wanna keep going; but I pressed anyway.
"And what? What happened?"
The guard looked up from his paper, after a few moments he sat it down on the desk and leaned toward us. In a low hum of a voice. He started.
"What happened was that the fuckin guy had burn marks and surgical scars on his wrists and guts. He had like 4 teeth and was only, I don't know.. 60 pounds? Real fucked up. Begged me not to send him back. But we all got a job to do. Ya know?"
Sweat beaded my forehead. Jake scoffed nervously behind me.
"Yeah pfft, so what right? Dude probably was fucked up like that when he got checked in."
The guard cocked an eyebrow and leaned back in his seat.
"Maybe, cept I remember when this cat got checked in. Made a big scene and tried to cut an aide. He was damn near 340 back then. And I'm definitely positive after he bit me when I pulled him off the girl that he had all his teeth."
Jake swallowed hard and I cleared my throat, not really knowing what to say. I just turned my tape back on and started my sweep of block B, that was the fastest time had ever moved in that fucking building too..
Before I knew it.. we were quietly packing our buckets and heading across the grounds to the almost hidden block C that protruded from the wood-line.
Block C looked vastly different from the modernized building near the front of the property. Even in the dark, the bricks were in need of a hard power washing. Vines grew in every direction up the front face and door had dust caked across the glass with the smudges of fingers across it. This was the closest we had ever been to the building and in all honesty I wasn't thrilled.
Jake pulled nervously at his collar "Hey man, I've got this big trip out to Utica tomorrow for an um.. ATV tourney . You mind if I sit this one out? I'll totally make it up sometime."
I groaned. "It's two hours and then we clock out. Just a quick sweep and emptying some bins." I reached out and pulled the door and it popped open with a loud echo. The automated light clicked on in the entrance to show an interior door with a card lock and a guard at his desk. As I stepped through I looked back at Jake who still wasn't moving and taunted him. "Pussy."
This snapped him back into full douche mode "pfft I'm not a pussy! You are." As he started behind me into the building.
Entering block C was awkward... The guard met us at the door with suspicion. "Who the fuck are you? Where's Red?" He eyed us like we were imposters, rounding the asylum in janitorial gear looking for some prized trash bag. "Erm.. Red's in the hospital, stroke I think.. we clean blocks A and B with him. Just us tonight."
The sleep deprived guard snarled a bit more and mumbled under his breathe. Then he stepped toward me. "Give me the cassette player."
"Excuse me?" I asked, not sure if I heard him correctly.
"The fuckin thing around your next boy, contraband. You'll get it back when you're done."
I sighed and pulled the headphones from my neck. The guard snatched it quickly from my hand and straightened himself and addressed us officially.
"Listen up cause I ain't got all night. Block C sole purpose is to test new and unorthodox therapies on patients under extreme stress and affliction. Cleaning this block is not your priority while you're here. Your priority is to shut the fuck up and keep your head down. You will sweep and mop the lobby floor. Take out the trash and restock the sheet closets as we do not allow house keeping in this building, like you they are underqualified. After this is done, you will pack your buckets. Head back to block A and wait for your clock out time."
Jake and I exchanged an odd glance.
"What about the other 4 floors?"
The guard squinted.
"We have people for that while Red's gone. Like I said boys, first floor only."
Jake snickered, "aye, what if we do go to the second floor though? Like, what if we need to find a shitter?"
The guard slammed his hand on his desk.
"The first god damned floor, you do NOT; go upstairs."
So we started.. went this way for two nights. Turning in my Walkman, dealing with Jake testing the guard. Keeping our "heads down".
The third night I was running my last hall. In the far left wing of floor one. Jake was giving the guard an aneurysm with the waxer right next to the desk but the guard knew it had to be done so he just scowled.
Had he not taken my Walkman? That would've been the end of the shift. However without that old worn out cassette plugging the world of annoyances away from my ears..
I heard it..
I was just at the back end of the hallway. Around the corner and out of sight from Jake and the guard. The only thing that was prominent beyond a laundry room was the stairwell to floor two at the end. As I put my mop in it's bucket for the last time of the night, I heard something I didn't expect from beyond the backdoor.
I heard a woman's voice, raspy, kind of like she'd been yelling. It was faint and I was just walking away but I heard her.
"H-help?"
I turned surprised. Jake and the guard were still way out of site. I out my ear against the door and listened closely.
I heard it again.
"H-help me?"
I asked quietly, "What do you need ma'am? Maybe I can get someone for you?"
"N-no you, please help me?"
I was totally creeped out. I glanced back one more time to make sure nobody would see me and I popped the door open just wide enough to slip in and latched it behind me.
The stairwell was pitch black. It was locked up at night and the only lighting was a row of windows that allowed daylight to illuminate the hall.
Which made it even more odd that someone was inside, which is also what worried me.
It was dead silent in the darkness.
After a moment of holding my breath I managed a very quiet. "Hello?"
From further up the stairwell I immediately received a response. This time alot more panicked.
"Help, help, help, help"
The woman's voice was strained and she sounded like she was just around the bend on the stair incline to floor 2. I took a few steps up and tried to peer up over the next flights railing but couldn't get a good look. I could hear her breathing though.
Heavy and fast, like an anxiety attack. Or like she had been sprinting I could hear her pattering or pacing or something. Barefooted for sure.
I hesitated but finally spoke, "Ma'am I have to let someone know you're in here. Is everything okay?"
Her heavy breathing stopped abruptly. A terrifying moment of silence screeched on. And then from two more floors up I heard her scream "they'll kill you all!" And the fucking woman jumped. I didn't even see her until her face zoomed passed mine and she smashed the floor with a loud thud.
I screamed and lost my footing, tumbling down the first flight and landing next to her. Her neck snapped into a twisted V shape. I scrambled to my feet and ran out of the stairwell screaming like a banshee. Jake and the guard came running around the corner toward me.
I was flabbergasted, the guard was screaming "what?! What the fuck is going on?!" I couldn't speak I just kept pointing a shaky finger at the door.
"Sh-she just fucking.. she jumped!"
The guards confused look turned to shock when he looked through the window and saw the twisted mess of a woman on the floor.
"Jesus Christ!" He tried the door but I had locked it so I shakily tossed him my keys and he fumbled the lock open. As he ran into the darkness trying to illicit a response Jake out his hand on my shoulder.
"Fuck bro relax, what's going on?"
I heard the guard.
"Holy shit, miss are you okay? Miss, if you can hear me. Holy fuck man she's dead, she's fucking dead."
We both watched through the door window as he approached the halls rim of light inside the stairwell shaken.
We were dead silent for seconds that ticked by like hours.
"Should I call someone?" I said through the window.
The guard wiped sweat from his brow and started.
"Uhm yeah, there's an info sheet by the-"
Out of the darkness the woman that'd just been on the floor leaped on the guards back and with the sharpest teeth that I had ever seen unhinged her jaw and bit down. Ripping the side of his neck and his throat clean out. Blood sprayed the window and we lost sight of her.
My jaw hit the floor and Jake yelled, "Fuck this man!"
At that we both sprinted as fast as we could toward the exit. As we reached the turn in the hall that sent us left and out of the main entrance I glanced back in time to see the door fly off the hinges and a screech echo from the stairwell.
I have no clue what happened next but I made it out of Block C and lost Jake in the sprint. I made it to my car and crammed my key into the ignition and didn't bother looking back. I was fucking gone.
I never heard from Jake again..
In 1995 the Wilmshire Home for the Criminally Insane burnt to the ground. In total 126 died in the blaze. Which started in Block C.
The day of the fire there was a knock at my door, when I answered it the only thing that was there was a package on my stoop. Inside was an old charred Walkman with a steppinwolfe Cassette inside.
The card read,
"I won't tell if you won't,
Red."
I should've just quit..