I aimed my phone torch to the large gap in the fence. ‘Over here,’ I whispered to my friends, ‘There’s a way in.’
We took turns squeezing through the narrow opening in the metal gate and began walking silently to the derelict building. From there, we managed to slip in through a broken window which previous explorers had gained access through. The inside was pitch black, with an expected damp, musty fragrance.
Englesfield hospital had been abandoned for over twenty years, and the building had certainly seen better days. The three of us continued down the hallway, with only the lights from our phones illuminating our way. We explored every room we came across, finding lot of satanic and lewd graffiti decorating the shedding walls. Millie didn’t like that, but Harry assured her it was just other explorers messing around and to not be a wimp.
Moving quickly and quietly, we found ourselves in a large room which appeared to be a ward. Some of the beds were overturned, and there were some filthy gowns strewn across the floor. I began walking around, stepping over fallen cubicle curtains when something caught my eye. A brown, leathery object slightly peaking out from under the mattress of one of the beds. I walk over to retrieve it, almost tripping on the curtain as I do so. It was a book. I go to open it, but Harry impatiently hurries us on to the next room. I place the book down on the bed and turn away, but I’m instantly drawn back to it, as if an invisible hand is guiding me to it, willing me to take it. I slip the book into my coat pocket, cursing my fucking curiosity.
We soon found ourselves in some sort of office. Millie came across a dusty file cabinet filled with patient records. We began to curiously flick through them when Harry called out from a room down the corridor, forcing us to abandon our snooping.
We reunite with Harry, who’s stood in front of an open fridge. ‘Look at this,’ he beckons, ‘What do you reckons in here?’
Millie held her nose as she approached. ‘Ugh, it stinks!’
I had to agree, an occupied sealed fridge that hasn’t had power for decades certainly holds an odour.
We shone our lights over the multiple opaque jars which inhabited the fridge, unable to see what, if anything, was in them.
‘Oh Harry, just close it, it’s disgusting.’ Millie whined.
‘I just want to see what’s in here,’ Harry replied, ‘Maybe there’s something at the back.’
Harry unexpectedly reached his hand in, causing Millie to squeal.
‘Are you insane, that’s disgusting now stop it!’ She poked Harry sharply in the ribs, causing him to recoil back and send a jar tumbling out of the fridge and onto the floor with a smash, a dark liquid splashed over him.
We all aimed our torches down in unison, but before anyone could say a word, the smell hit us.
Harry heaved, Millie screamed and I began making a run for the exit, the others following not far behind. We dove out the broken window at inhuman speeds and began gulping the fresh air.
‘What was that, was that a fucking brain?’ Millie asked through breaths.
‘I don’t know, but it stank. Why did you make me do that you twat! That shit went in my mouth and eye and everywhere!’ Harry hissed at her, doubled over and looking rather pale.
In the distance, we heard dogs barking.
‘Right, let’s go!’ I announce, as we all hastily retreat.
It took about an hour for us all to get home. I quietly snuck straight to my room, not wanting to draw attention from my parents who were already in bed. I slipped off my clothes and slid into bed, exhausted.
Two days passed without much excitement, and I decided to walk to the shop to get some snacks just to get out of the house for a bit. I pull on a pair of jeans and a shirt and begin looking for my coat within the mess on the floor. I find it by the side of my bed and begin to put it on when my hand hits against something firm in the pocket.
‘The book!’ I whisper out loud as I remove it from my pocket, the curiosity reigniting inside me. I threw my coat back on the floor, sat at my desk and opened it. It was a hand written journal, with the words “Robert Palmer, 1987’ scribbled on the inside cover in black ink.
17th February 1987, Day 1 of 5
You’ll have to excuse my rushed handwriting, I was informed when signing up for this trial that all outside communications are prohibited, so I’m discreetly jotting down in here to relieve some boredom and savour this oh so thrilling memory.
I’ve put myself forward for a medical trial, I’m told it involves an injection today and four days of progress monitoring. Sounds dull, but I’m being given £2000 just to lay in a hospital bed for a week so I will grin and bare it. I’m on a shared ward with two other men and three ladies. It’s peculiar for us to be mixed in the same ward, but we’re all separated by curtains so can’t complain. The hospital have fed us a hearty lunch and we’re gradually being called to have our injections.
18th February 1987, Day 2 of 5
The trial did not tell us the injection site was going to be in the eye. I protested, but I’d already signed a contract along with everyone else. We’re now all sat in the ward with fucking eyepatches on and feeling deceived. But I remind myself of the £2000 and try to stay positive.
I briefly interacted with the other participants in this shitty trial. The woman opposite me is called Lynda and the man next to me is Wendel. I have not yet caught the names of the others.
19th February 1987, Day 3 of 5
I was woken at six in the morning to the woman in the first bed screaming. I heard nurses run in and moments later it was silent with the sounds of a bed being wheeled away. Lynda and the woman next to her said they think she was sedated and taken away, perhaps she had a mental breakdown? I still couldn’t
I had to stop writing abruptly earlier as a nurse unexpectedly walked in. The man next to Wendel had pressed his emergency call button and explained to the nurse he felt hot and unwell. The nurse suddenly restrained the man to his bed hurriedly. The man began letting out an abnormal growl and I heard the bed violently shaking as he was being wheeled away. What the fuck is this?
20th February 1987, Day 4 of 5
My writing will be scribbles. I’m shaking very hard. Myself, Wendel and Lynda are the only ones left on the ward. In the night, the woman next to Lynda got out of bed and fled into the corridor to, what sounded like, primitively attack a nurse. She did not return. A man in a whitecoat came in to talk to us. He looked disappointed. He told us that the drugs trial has failed, and any negative effects are irreversible. He acted more like a stroppy toddler who didn’t get his own way than a medical professional.
Lynda asked what this means for us. The bastard looked at her and shrugged. He told us the three other patients did not survive and one nurse has also had to be destroyed due to contamination but some of their organs will be transported to another facility for further testing. He then apologised and left.
The three of us have been restrained to our beds. I have very limited movement in my hands. Englesfield is not a hospital, it’s a fucking experiment facility. There is no money. We are just lab rats. Our kin will receive news that we passed from a reaction to the medicine, and there can be no lawsuit as we signed away our rights. I doubt anyone will read this, I regret this.
21st February 1987, Day 5 of 5
We lost Wendel in the early hours of last night. He told me he felt like he was burning, before growling and shaking violently. We were left in the room with him for nearly twenty minutes, terrified he was going to break free of his restraints and harm us. Wendel managed to pull the curtain between us down. His eyes were fully black and his mouth was wider than possible, and the demonic sounds he was emitting was haunting.
The nurses ignored our pleas. If this is my fate, I’d rather just be put down now than go through that. But we were ignored, as if we’d been given up on now.
It’s getting late now, I’m feeling very hot. I don’t know what to do.
I closed the diary with wide eyes. Surely this must be a prank? But the book looked so aged that it was hard to convince myself it was a hoax.
I opened my laptop and searched up Englesfield hospital. There were hardly any results, just that it suddenly closed due to unknown circumstances.
I grabbed my phone and called Millie. She answered, and before she could finish her greeting, I told her everything I’d just read.
Millie sounded genuinely concerned, and reminded me of what we’d found in the fridge. She told me to call Harry. I obeyed, briefly hanging up on her to dial Harry’s number. No answer. I try again. Nothing. I try several more times before calling Millie.
‘Oh, let’s just go over to his,’ Millie insisted, ‘I’ll meet you on his road in ten.’
Millie eventually jogged up to Harry’s road to meet me. ‘He’s probably just still asleep, but you’ve scared me now.’ Millie scolded me. ‘All this talk of brains and demon zombie shit.’
We got to Harry’s house and knocked on the door. No answer. We knock again, louder. Nothing.
‘Maybe they’re out?’ I suggest, but Millie was already heading around the house to the back gate. I followed her.
‘All the cars are here,’ Millie told me. ‘Plus they know us well enough, they never mind when we let ourselves-‘
Millie stopped in her tracks after turning the corner. I caught up to her and followed her gaze. The glass back door was completely smashed, and a large blood trail led off beyond the garden.
I slowly walked closer to the door, Millie still frozen in fear. Just inside the door, I saw the faceless remains of Harry’s mother. My jaw dropped, and I let out an audible gasp. This caused his mother to slowly distort her head to look at me. She weakly began to crawl towards me, her eyeless face searching for me but her body barely able to move from being heavily stripped of flesh.
I ran. I grabbed Millie firmly by the arm and ran. I didn’t stop running until we were at mine. Without hesitation, I called the police and told them everything, Millie staring at me with unspoken horror.
By the time investigators got to Englesfield hospital, it was ablaze. The amber flames dancing around everything that was left of the hospital
Harry’s mothers’ remains were dealt with and cremated, along with his younger brother, who was found in a similar condition upstairs.
Harry, his father and sister were never found.