Horror Books: The Lodge - (Adults, Paranormal, Ghost, Scary, Short Stories)

  The Lodge

  by

  Travis Burrows

  Copyright©2016 by Bad Intentions Publishing. All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organization, places, events, and incidents are either product’s of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  “He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life. I will raise him up at the last day.”Father Adrian said. We lowered our heads,“Amen.”His old hands shook as he packed his things.

  They tell you not to get close to your patients. It makes it harder when they pass; especially in this industry. Charge Nurse Gretchen and Dr. Tobias stressed that advice even more when they hired me.‘This isn’t your normal Home’, Dr. Tobias told me.‘Our residents are very special to us.’ Gretchen finished his sentiment. They could’ve told me I had to eat fire to work there and I would’ve taken the job. I was a newly-single mother and I needed the money.

  I fell in love with The Lodge right away. It was a more than century old, sprawling log-house-turned-rest home tucked away in the forest at the edge of Harlen County. If you didn’t have a relative to visit or a job to perform, you had no reason to be out there. I think the quiet helped our patients and I know it helped me. The place was huge and when I started, only a half-dozen of the thirty rooms were occupied. Now it’s even less. That couldn’t pay the bills, I thought. Dr. Tobias didn’t seem overly concerned with the revenue, though. He cared deeply for his patients and we knew that he would do whatever it would take to make them happy and comfortable until their end.

  Mr. Cardwell’s death that morning had been a surprise. Unlike other patient deaths, there wasn’t much of an indication it was coming. Well, it was a surprise to the rest of the staff, I should say. I had been seeing Him again; more frequently, too. It was only recently that I decided to stop trying to convince everyone else that he was real and that he was tormenting our residents. They refused to believe me and I refused to keep trying.

  “You’ve seen him too?” Sandra - Mrs. McCarthy to the rest of the staff - asked me during one of my first shifts. Those words, above everything else that happened, still scare me. It was confirmation that what I was seeing was real and the fear I had was justified.

  It was the middle of that same night and Gretchen and I were sprinting down the hallway to Sandra, but by the time I stopped her from repeatedly smashing her head against a hanging picture, the glass had shattered. Her forehead was pouring blood down her face, staining her flowery robe inky red. With every thud, she was mumbling,“We’re sorry.”

  I forced myself in between her and the wall. Gretchen was behind her in an instant with a gurney. I pulled out as much glass from her forehead as I could before she was strapped down and rolled away for cleaning, stitches and sedation. I had never seen her like that before; not even close.

  Shaken, I finished the rest of my rounds that night without further excitement. I peeked in on Mrs. McCarthy, occasionally, as she slept. She was in pretty bad shape. Her dementia settled in a few years before but had been advancing terribly and I had a feeling I knew why. He would come to her room at night, she would tell me. He gave her nightmares and forced her to do things.

  I hadn’t known her long, but I felt like I knew her my entire life. She was the first patient that really paid me any sort of respect or attention. She treated me like a friend. She was my friend and I was watching her slip away.

  It was well past midnight and Sandra was on her 2nd day of sleeping off the heavy sedatives. A breeze blew in through an open window as I stood in her doorway, holding her uneaten dinner and hoping she would wake up and talk to me. I was lonely and I missed our late-night gossips. The night air dropped a sudden chill and our breaths became visible. I set the tray on her nightstand, closed my eyes and stuck my face out the window to enjoy a moment of crisp autumn air.

  “Don’t let me go.”Sandra whined. I jumped, banging the back of my head on the window. She was still asleep and must’ve been dreaming. She had kicked her blankets off at some point, so I pulled them up around her shoulders to guard her against the chill.

  “Wake up soon.”I said, brushing hair from her face.“Gretch and Doc are at it again.”I giggled.

  The blankets were torn from my hands and ripped off the bed. Sandra flipped on to her back, her muscles went rigid and her fingers contorted. Her faced drained of color and was frozen in mouth-gaping pain. I jumped back, afraid for only a moment before my nurse instincts took over.

  “Gretchen!”I yelled.“Gretchen, I need you!”

  Sandra’s whole body began to shake and she was hissing softly. The legs of the bed rose and slammed to the floor.

  “Gretchen!”

  “Don’t let him take me”her hiss turned into words.“Tell him it wasn’t me.”

  “You’re not going anywhere, Sandra. Look at me. Hold on!”

  She started thrashing; I was so scared. Her body bounced and twisted with each jerking motion. I ran to the doorway.

  “Gretchen! Doctor!”I started to cry.

  I turned back to the room and there He was. Inky shadows swirled around his cancerous, gnome-like body. He was fading in and out of transparency and was holding his spindly hands over Sandra as she convulsed. His raspy laughter mimicked her hissing. He was killing her.

  “Get away from her!”I screamed.

  I lunged at him, only to fly through his immateriality, tumbled over Sandra and slammed to the floor.

  “Get away from her!”I jumped to my feet, but he was gone. Sandra was quiet again. Gretchen and Dr. Tobias finally got to the room, breathing heavily and half-dressed.

  I struggled for my own breath. I dropped on my ass next to the bed and put my arms over Sandra. Tobias and Gretchen only stared at me, confused. I didn’t leave her side that night.

  Dr. Tobias had me take a few days off after that and I was excited to get back to work even though I had been switched to first-shift; breakfasts instead of dinners and morning showers instead of quiet, sleepy time. But I was excited to see my buddy again.

  Right off, I noticed that Ms. Koplinski’s room was empty. We must have lost another patient while I was off. I noticed Dr. T. hadn’t replaced the picture Sandra smashed, either. He had replaced Gretchen with Stephanie, though; younger, bubblier Stephanie. She greeted me from the front desk when I walked in.

  I made my way down the hall to Sandra’s room and just stood at her open door for a moment, watching her rock in her favourite chair while she admired the wildlife through her window. The bandages on her head had been replaced by a couple small Band-Aids. The room was very chilly and her nightgown was very sheer.

  “It’s colder than a witch’s tit in here!”I demanded.“Who are you trying to impress showing that much skin?”

  She giggled as I kissed the top of her head and gave her shoulders a quick hug.

  “My friend”she responded with a small hug on my arms.

  I inspected her Band-Aids, she leaned her head into my hands and I hadn’t noticed until then that she was clutching the picture from the hallway.

  “I’m sure Doc is looking for this.”I drew it slowly away from her.

  “I know why he’s doing this”, she whispered.

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s our fault, you know.”She said.

  “Sandra?”

  “You were in my room the other night. You saved my life.”

  My blood turned to electric ice. I had tried not to think much about that night, but the fear stuck with me. Before it could take control of me, she change
d the mood.

  “You see the Doctor’s new‘head nurse’?”she chuckled, making air-quotes with her sickly fingers.

  “Mrs. McCarthy, do I detect a hint of jealousy?”I winked at her.

  “He likes them young,”she flipped her silver hair,“he couldn’t handle me.”She laughed so hard it turned into a painful coughing fit.

  The reality of my friend’s situation snapped me back. I got her a drink of water and wrapped a blanket around her cold shoulders.

  I hugged her again and made my way into the hall to re-hang the picture. I stared at it for a moment: a group of four nurses, two male and two female, standing in front of The Lodge. If I had to guess, I’d say it was taken fifty or sixty years ago. I had only been there for a few months, but I could tell that years of neglect were weighing heavy on the place. All the nurses in the picture looked a little familiar, but I shrugged it off and headed to the security station.

  Security Officer Johnson wasn’t working. He was really only scheduled on major holidays when there were a flood of visitors and family crowding the building. The security cameras were always rolling, though, and we all had access to the station.

  I had plenty of time until my next round and it didn’t take long to find the tapes from my days off. I poured a coffee, sat back and fast-forwarded through hours of uneventful down-time; meal-time, bath-time, game-time and maintenance.

  I found the feed from Ms. Koplinski’s room the night she died. It started rather normally with Gretchen cleaning up dinner, covering her up and straightening the room a bit before shutting off the lights and leaving for the night. I sipped my coffee and watched the screen intently; I would’ve watched every second of it if I needed to, but it didn’t take that long.

  About a half hour after Gretchen left Ms. Kop’s room, her door cracked open. The light from the hallway streaked across the floor. I scooted to the edge of my seat, inching my face to the screen. A shadowy hand with long, ugly fingers, grabbed the door and swung it open. Hunched over and grotesque, Heslid into the room. He was crackling in and out of sight and as soon as he entered the room, Ms. Koplinski started to kick and grab at her covers. The ghastly man merged with the darkness of the room and slowly shut the door. I couldn’t see him anymore; only wispy tendrils of his dark form manifested as he approached her bed. The bed started to shake and her body went rigid and contorted. She was trying to scream, but, thankfully, the cameras do not record sound.

  His black form slid under the foot of her bed and was out of sight. For a moment, Ms. Kop seemed to relax and fall back into a comfortable sleep. The room went quiet; maybe this wasn’t the night Diana Kopslinki died.

  I reached for the power button on the monitor when I saw something. From under the head of the bed, long–inhumanly long–arms and legs started to crawl onto the bed like a spider climbing up and over the edge of a table. I dropped my coffee into my lap and didn’t even notice the burn. Diana’s body violently twisted, slamming her against the bed; again and again she slammed against the bed. I screamed at that monster to let her go, knowing, but not caring, that it was too late.

  His disgusting shadow-body engulfed her; her face swallowed by blackness. I hit the monitor and screamed again. The entity stopped for a split second. It’s swirling, black head formed into an almost-human head and face. He looked right at the camera; right into my eyes. I jumped out of my chair and slammed against the wall. He grinned at the camera–at ME–with a mouthful of broken, yellow teeth. As quick as it appeared, his face returned to its shadowy cloud. Diana was thrashing hard underneath him. Inch by inch, his black mass enveloped her until she was no longer visible. I was crying hard but still watching.

  All activity on the screen stopped. He slithered away and evaporated underneath the door, leaving a pale, cold and dead Ms. Koplinski lying in her bed. The feed played on, second by second, with her dead body just lying there alone. I covered my mouth trying to muffle my heavy sobs.

  My hands were shaking, almost uncontrollably, as I dialled the phone. I couldn’t believe I was actually making that phone call, but there I was.

  “Hello.” He answered.

  “Father Adrian?”I had to push those words out of my mouth.

  “You can say one thing for this place…”Father Adrian said as we walked through the cramped cellar of The Lodge.“…they’ve kept good records on everything. Everyone.”

  Like a small grocery store, categorized rows lined the place: holiday decorations, decades of lost and found items boxed and waiting to be remembered, old clothes, tools and extra bedding too deteriorated to be good anymore.

  “It sure seems like it.”I almost smacked my head on a rusty water pipe.

  “The oldrecords are just up here at the end of the row.”He said.

  “How do you know that?”

  “I’ve been here a long time and not always in these clothes.”He brushed away thick cobwebs.“Their files should be right up here.”

  “Whose files? Ms. Koplinski’s? Cardwell’s?”I asked.

  “And others.”

  “Why? I mean, Diana was never my patient, but why would her file be down here?”

  He moved a dusty office box off the bottom shelf of the last row and, from behind it, he dragged out a small, fairly new file box. It kicked up a thick cloud of dust.

  “Not just hers, dear.”He pulled a small photo from the box and wiped off dust that settled on it. I recognized it instantly as the original print of the larger picture hanging above our heads. He started to hand it over, but paused. Looking deep into my eyes, he seemed reluctant to give it up. Maybe he was looking for something in me; maybe trust or honesty, I really don’t know.

  “Gerald Wilkerson was our first patient…”

  I inspected the photo closer with my flashlight. Everything was basically the same except for a small difference; through a window at the far edge of the frame, a sickly man stared out. His pale face, blank of emotion, looked through the window at the group of smiling nurses. That ghastly face was a more human version of the one grinning at me through the security camera not long ago.

  “That’s him.”I said, more to myself than him.

  “We were all so young.”He said.

  “Father?”I couldn’t form a better question.

  His hands were filthy, but he wiped his sweaty forehead, leaving streaks of wet dust across his brow. He struggled to make eye contact with me; he would only look at the floor.

  “We didn’t even have a real boss yet. We were just kids.”He pulled a box to the floor and sat down on it. I did the same.“I didn’t think the stories were real. I didn’t want to believe them, I guess. Until you called...”

  “Father, what is going on? Who is Gerald?”

  “It was the night this picture was taken…”

  I looked at the picture again and finally recognized the man I hadn’t before; it was Father Adrian. My eyes went wide.

  “You worked here?”

  He only nodded.

  “They decided it would be a good idea to celebrate for our first anniversary. Stewart got into the prescription drugs.”

  “Caldwell?”

  He nodded and continued.

  “We were all drinking and Diana assured us that she checked on Gerald. She said he was down for the night.”

  “Tell me what happened, Father?”

  “Mr. Wilkerson…”his eyes filled with tears.“Damn it, Stewart. If we had just stuck to the alcohol.”

  “It’s not your fault, Father.”I didn’t know what else to say, but it wasn’t true.“It’s not any of your faults.”

  “He died that night! And it isour fault!”he wiped his eyes.“We forgot about him and he died!”

  “What can we do, Father?”

  He slid a thin dagger from his belt; ornate carvings layered its hilt. He kissed it.

  I looked at the photo again: Stewart, Diana, Father Adrian and the last female must be…

  “Sandra!”I shoved the photo into my pocket.“We’ve got to save h
er, Father.”

  We hurried to the main floor and down the hall. I had never run so fast, Father Adrian struggled to keep up with me.

  “Sandra!”sweat was pouring into my eyes.“Sandra! Answer me!”

  I skid to a stop at her door.

  “Sandra. Sandra, please!”

  No answer. I fumbled with my large key ring.

  “Come out here, Gerald!”Father Adrian spit out.“This is not her fault! It’s time for this to end.”He wiped his face clean of sweat and took many deep breaths. Steadying his hands, he grabbed a rosary and crucifix from his pocket and started praying.

  I slammed the door open and saw Sandra. She was trying to scream, but her voice was gone. Gerald–or some monstrosity that used to be Gerald–was behind her, in her bed, holding her motionless and stifling her voice. The swampy, black tendrils of his fingers snaked around her face and throat.

  “Let her go! Gerald!”I took a step toward them and he gripped her neck tightly. Her eyes bulged and I felt sick. Father Adrian stormed into the room.

  “Minion of Satan, let that woman go!”he held the cross in front of him.“Gerald, let her go.”He inched closer to the bed.

  Gerald’s face wringed and stretched like black putty. He growled so deep and loud that the windows shattered and the door fell off its hinges.

  “I command you!”Father Adrian yelled.“Take me! Take me, Gerald.”

  “You’re next!”the monster bellowed at him.

  Father Adrian picked up a sliver of glass from the floor and slid it across his palm; thick blood ran down his arm and dripped to the floor.

  “I command you, beast of hell! Let her be!”smearing blood down his clothes and all over the cross, he continued,“Unhand her, vile creature! Almighty God commands you!”

  I didn’t know what to do. A powerful wind started blowing around the room, kicking up all the debris and slamming door and windows. I was screaming for Sandra, Adrian was yelling at Gerald. Sandra had true terror in her eyes as she looked from me to the Father.

  The monster that was Gerald grew in depth and anger. He swelled to twice its size.