Growing up in an isolated town surrounded by trees and mountains, I bet you can all figure out on your own that I know a lot of local legends. I have no idea why all these stories I have been told by my relatives and their friends have a tendency to be scary, even down-right disturbing at times, but they do.
My friends and I have all been told stories of deformed children near the old burnt down orphanage, sacrificial Pedophilia cults, serial-killers, mutated rapists, blood thirsty demon like hounds lurking in the woods and ghosts. Most of these stories where often dismissed as both stupid and false as they had no grounding, but not the one I am about to tell you. This one is different.
Over thirty years ago, the "local" Asylum (and I'm using the word "local" incredibly vague as it was placed several miles outside the town and was only connected to it by a gravel road) burnt down for an unexplained reason.
It is said that this was caused by an inmate called "Frank", a pyromaniac, a cannibal and an all-in-all mentally disturbed individual. He supposedly killed a number of people before getting caught in his own basement gnawing on the bones of corpses of which were people he had killed in a pool of their blood. We can only guess how Frank choose his victims, as he never explained why. When questions were asked, he only laughed.
He was locked down in the deepest level of the Asylum and didn't communicate with any individual until the day the Asylum burnt down. Frank somehow managed to get a hold on a lighter and some sort of sharp object, as most of the victims of his insanity had been crudely and violently cut.
My friends and I were fed up by the insecurity that it might be true for years. We had finally decided to travel to that burnt and broken down mental hospital where it all happened. Being told stories of rape, murder and deformation at the age of six, you could probably figure it out on your own that we weren't "normal" kids. This supposed insanity of ours would only boost our cravings to see a place of legend we had been told so much about.
There were four inside the van headed for the Asylum, the comfort of home slowly left our presence as the surrounding of trees embraced us.
The approaching gravel road was clearly seen in the darkening horizon. The van quickly came to the gravel as we all smiled. "We're almost there," said Tom, who was driving while keeping his eyes on the road.
The horizon was now surpassed by the presence of a gigantic bleak building laying a shadow equivalent to its size. We parked the van and we all got out. It felt like it got colder.
We all noticed that the door was barricaded sloppily by burnt furniture. "It's probably Frank!" joked one of my friends in the group. We all nervously laughed, though we all speculated it might be true. We walked around the Asylum a few rounds before Max, which is one of the first individuals I befriended in the city below, saw something.
It was a tiny, broken window. Max didn't hesitate to jump through the square hole with one smooth movement. We followed Max, but did so far from as smoothly, as most of us came in with scars from the broken glass. It was dark. Only one of us - Ian - had actually thought to bring a flashlight. The flashlight was quickly turned on because Ian was terribly afraid of the dark. He directed the flashlight in every corner of the room haphazardly. We found ourselves in a dark and musky room. The paint on the walls was torn off by the heat from flames.
"What are we waiting for? Let's explore!" said Tom with a cartoon-like smile on his face. He walked slowly to the staircase as we followed. I couldn't believe we were finally here; it was like walking in an exact replicated structure of your imagination. It was exactly how I thought it would be. It was like walking within my own head.
Tom had limited vision as he was the leader of our line and not the holder of the flashlight. Tom tripped, and Ian quickly directed his flashlight down where he lay. The skeleton of a cat was lying under him. Tom jumped up on his feet, shocked. He seemed surprised, but that quickly disappeared as he tried to maintain his role as the brave leader.
"What the fuck is that?" asked Tom.
"I think it's a cat," I said.
"How did you come to that conclusion?" Ian asked, and directed the flashlight at my face.
"Its about the same size," I said as I tried to block my eyes from the strong blast of light shooting out from Ian's flashlight. "Its the skull that gives it away."
The skeleton was dirty. This wasn't a natural death, as there were still bits of rotten flesh on its bones and fresh blood that had soaked down in the wooden floor. I decided not to comment on it. We came to the conclusion that it died of old age, though I believe we all speculated something else entirely.
We kept going up the stairs and we entered another floor. All the windows were broken. Suddenly, Tom commented on something we hadn't noticed before. "Why are there no shards?". We kept walking trying not to think about it. We all suddenly stopped again shortly.
"Do you hear that?" asked Ian nervously. I sure did. It was like the sound of mice, but this was different... They sounded like they were in pain.
We slowly walked in the direction of the sound, Ian of course being placed last and Tom first as we approached the core of that horrible sound. We entered the room, it was completely black.
Ian directed the flashlight in the corner of the room, he dropped it. We now knew what happen to the shards, they had all been placed in the corner of this completely dark room, there were dead animals bathing in the shards as well as living ones screaming in agony.
We heard footsteps which got faster over time, they stopped very sudden, we all turned to the direction of the entrance and to our surprise - there stood Frank.
A tall old naked bearded man with long hair, his hands bleeding, his giant eyes staring at us. He suddenly went into a sprint, we all ran but not Ian, he stood completely still staring at the old man. Frank pushed him into the pond of shards as he screamed. We ran as fast as we could but Max got caught by the legs with some sort of sickle Frank now held, he fell while we ran not even looking back as he screamed as Ian and the mice surrounding him in the glass shards.
Me and Tom were the only ones left, we sat sobbing in the corner of a dark room. We had no idea where we were as it was completely dark and impossible to see anything at all though we could see the entrance, we were both waiting for his silhouette to appear. The screams of both Max and Ian were slowly silenced but our fear was nothing but increased for now we once again heard wet, slow foot steps.
Tom silently stood up in a crouching position, without saying a word he slowly walked towards the entrance of which we came from. The slow, crouching soon turned into a full sprint. He turned left and escaped my field of vision. I sat there in the dirt next to a torn up bed with my legs up to my chin, I waited for him. "This is so much more than what we bargained for"Ii said though I am in conflict if that is actually true. I didn't even care if Frank had heard me, he knew exactly where I was.
I lifted my face and opened my eyes and I saw something in the entrance, I stood up as the shade slowly came closer. I have never been so scared in my entire life. A small beam of light had escaped the burnt down walls, it was now early in the morning by the looks of it. The shade came closer and at impact with the beam I saw that it wasn't Frank, it was Tom, but something was terribly wrong. He obviously tried to speak but all that came out of his mouth was waves of blood, his tongue was cut off. His teeth had been torn out for when he lifted his hands to the beam of light, they were in his hands bathing in a pond of his own blood. He didn't even blink, it wasn't shock, his eye lids were cut off. Tom should've fallen to his knees by now as his legs were cut several times creating a pool of blood around him.
"Tom?" I said, now pushed completely up against the wall, he fell. His blood splashed unto the walls as another shade appeared behind him, the shade walked into the beam of light showing that it was a naked, bearded, long haired old man with a blood-dripping shard in his hand, it was Frank.
He didn't hesitate, he ran towards me, grabbed my throat and slammed me on the torn up bed. He lifted his left arm with the shard held high and he rammed it into my torso, the shard stood still as blood escaped my body like a river. Held down by his weight he proceeded to cut me repeatedly with his long, sharp finger nails
as I screamed