The best place to start is at the beginning. Well, Not the beginning beginning.
Not my birth or anything like that. That would be silly, a lot of wasted information, and I’d imagine most of you would stop listening fairly quickly.
High school is tough. Especially if you’re the kind of kid who people deem odd. Once you’re older, you understand that things like that don’t matter but as a kid. It’s all that matters to most people. I was never bullied. But I was definitely an outcast. I did get my fair share of comments, though, especially by Russel Welsh. A guy who went by the self-appointed, mind you, Muscle Russel. He was more bloated than muscular, but if you said that to him, he would definitely punch you in the face. He had zero problems doing that and made sure you knew about it. But if you avoided him, he would generally leave you alone. I made it my job to not have any dealings with this kid. That was until the day of the book. (The beginning I spoke about before.)
It was after Columbus day weekend. We were off from school that Monday, and I drove with my parents to visit my aunt Beth upstate. New York, Upstate New York. Warwick, to be more specific. I must remind myself that not everyone knows what I’m talking about when I say upstate.
I’m getting sidetracked. Sorry, that happens.
That weekend my aunt wanted to show me around Warwick. I was 16 now, and as my aunt now put it. “Fun to hang with now that I’m not sucking my thumb anymore.” whatever that means.
We jumped in her old Volkswagen golf that, by the looks of it, was only running on hopes and prayers. And headed down the way a bit to a small town called Sugarloaf. This was a place where my aunt felt right at home. If she belonged anywhere. It was here.
This hamlet of Hudson Valley was known for its lively artistic community. That was the perfect way to describe Beth. A lively artistic. Her place was full of sculptures and paintings. Whatever gallery nearby was hosting an event, that’s the project she would be working on. My mom said she was the last of the hippies. My dad said she was an idiot. Not within earshot of mom, of course.
The town was loaded with craft stores. Vintage clothes. Herb and candle shops and places that carried homemade soap.
There were also a few places whose signs out front said Curiosity Shoppe, and shop was spelled with a “PPE” at the end, so of course, I had to go in and check it out.
This place offered Tarot card readings, Spiritual guidance, Chakra, and life readings. They also sold various oils, books, and little curated bags of spell kits. Each kit contained a spell candle, star holder, magic potion vial, mojo bag, and spell scroll, complete with directions! For 20 bucks, I grabbed a School Success kit. What the hell. When in Rome.
What really caught my attention was the book with “Lore of Staten Island” written on the spine. A book about weird things from my hometown was something I had to go home with. I packed it away, glanced at it on the way back to Beths, and then that was it until Monday.
I didn’t think about the book until the ride home.
Skimming through it, It was loaded with urban legends that took place on Staten Island. It was the curse of Seaview that took most of my interest. Everyone who grew up on Staten island knew about the Seaview homes and the things that went on there. The rumors about how they killed the patients in the tunnels under the hospital and burnt the bodies down there to try and stop the spread of tuberculosis. The Satanists and devil worshipers made the abandoned hospitals their ritual grounds.
There were also some things that I had never heard before. There was a whole write-up about a demon that was summoned on those grounds. And how it fed on children and dragged them into the shadows, never to be seen again. That’s what I found the most interesting, and I couldn’t wait to bring it to school to show my buddy Eric. He lived for this stuff. Plus, he was crazy enough to go with my idea of going to the hospital to have a little peak for myself.
That Tuesday, Eric and I met at the breezeway for lunch. What we’ve been doing every lunch period since freshman year. I was showing him the book, and we agreed on a time and day to go check some of these things out when Muscle Russel came bursting out of the doors behind us. Now, usually, this wouldn’t mean anything to us. Live and let live ya know. But Russel had just come from the dean’s office for pouring an entire carton of milk down the crack of some poor shmucks ass. The kid didn’t even react. Just kept eating his lunch.
For his act of just plain meanness Russel earned himself a punishment of indefinite detention. As you can imagine, the dolt wasn’t happy.
Eric was getting to the part of the book explaining the details of the curse that loomed over the Seaview hospitals when Russel stormed over to us, ripped the book out of Eric’s hands, and threw it onto the roof of the gym.
Now that would have been it. Neither of us felt like getting punched in the face. But it just so happened that Mr. Russo, the Math teacher, was walking out into the breezeway and witnessed the entire thing.
Russel’s detention turned into a 2-week suspension. His detention would be waiting for him when he got back.
This was something that Russel did not want.
He didn’t have the best home life. And him being home for 2 weeks meant someone had to be home with him.
A minor home alone was all the ammo his downstairs neighbor would need. She wasn’t fond of Russel and his family.
This pissed the boy off and put a target on Eric and me. Luckily for us, it would be 2 weeks before Russel could have his revenge. Or so we thought.
Russel heard more of our conversation than we thought and knew we were planning on checking out Seaview on Saturday afternoon.
That Saturday, Eric and I went over our plan. We met just around the corner from Seaview and couldn’t wait to head in and check stuff out.
We had to be careful. The place was surrounded by a chain link fence topped with razor wire. There was also plywood stuck up in front of the wall to block the view of the buildings from the street which made for perfect cover once you were up and over.
That was part of the trick, though. Getting up and over without being seen. Sure, you could cut a hole in the wood and use bolt cutters, but that would be obvious. Someone would see the fence down and call it in.
The only way to sneak in was down the tiny dead-end street next to the hospital.
There was an old tree whose large branches grew over the fence, with its thickest one lying directly on top. You could climb right up and over with no problem.
If that is you could get past old mister Baker.
People say he worked at the hospital as a groundskeeper before its closing in the 70s.
He has nothing better to do now than watch the old buildings and make sure no kids like us sneak in.
Eric had a plan, though. The Tree across from the Baker’s house sat on the side. His house was on the corner, so the front door was on the main street. He mostly sat at his kitchen or bedroom window on the side of the house watching.
Eric decided to order a pizza at the man’s house. It was brilliant. As soon as he was distracted at the front door, we would be up and over before he had time to close the door and make his way back to the window.
The plan was in motion and went off without a hitch. Or so we thought.
We weren’t planning on Russel following us over the fence and Mister Baker seeing him climb it.
Once we got to the other side, we saw that plywood was lined with graffiti, but it was nonsense. Shapes and symbols. Just jibberish, really.
I took out my phone and took some pictures of the graffiti.
Eric reached into his backpack and took out his flashlight and bolt cutters just in case any doors were chained up or we had to cut the padlock on the fence to make a quick getaway.
We walked up to the first building, supposedly used as housing for the nurses, and climbed into the smashed window on the first floor. The doorway was sealed up with cinder blocks.
We weren’t inside for 5 minutes. Eric just had enough time to set his pack down and lean the bolt cutters against the wall next to the bag when we heard his voice.
It was Russel, and he was calling out to us.
Calling us rats and saying we were dead and gonna get what was coming to us.
That was only some of what I heard, though. I heard whispers. Coming from the halls around us. Barely audible. No words I could clearly make out but definitely something.
We bolted up the steps and headed to the second floor. The building was huge. We planned to go up, double around him, and get over the fence.
He must of saw where we climbed in because he came in the same window and found Eric’s cutters.
We spent the next few minutes ducking into rooms trying not to hyperventilate. Hoping the sound of my heart pounding out of my chest was only loud in my ears, and he couldn’t hear it.
Russel was now screaming about how he would use these cutters to snip off our fingers one by one. My first thought was to call the cops. This kid was clearly insane, but I had zero bars of service in here. Neither did Eric. These walls had to be thick with lead paint.
A weird thing happened then. A taste of things to come.
The sun was still shining in through the windows. We were on the second floor and above most of the overgrowth from the grounds outside. It was starting to go down but still plenty bright. The shadows around us were beginning to stretch in our direction. Slowly at first and then quicker. Russel walked past the room we were hiding in right before the shadows reached us, and we decided to make our move. We were both smaller and definitely quicker than him. We can make it down the stairs, out the window, and over the fence way before him with a head start.
We took the shot.
We were stepping down the first few stairs before he could even turn around and onto the branch over the fence before we were at the window.
We crashed down to the ground right at the feet of Mr. Baker.
He wasn’t happy. We tried to catch our breath and explain that this lunatic was chasing us with bolt cutters.
Before he could let us have it, though, we heard the sound of a snapping bolt and the thud of metal hitting the dirt.
With that, the gate on the corner swung open, and out stepped Russel.
Mr. Bakers’ eyes went wide, and he shouted at Russel! “No, You’ve broken the seal!!” Just as a shadow stretched out from under him and pulled him into the ground. That’s the best way I can describe it. Arms came out of the shadow and pulled Russel directly into the sidewalk.
Mr. Baker grabbed us by our shirt collars and hurried us into his house.
Currently, he is writing on his walls in pen, chalk, and markers. Anything he has around, really. The same markings that were on the fence. He’s repeating over and over to himself. It’s not gonna hold.
The sun is almost down now, and the shadows are getting longer. The house lights are not helping.
Eric went to the bathroom and hasn’t come back yet. It’s really quiet in there.
My phone’s battery is dying.
I’ll probably get cut off soon, so I should end this before it does.
If anyone finds this phone and plays this voice memo, please. The book is on top of the gym building at Tottenville High school. There might be something in there that can get us back.