The Redwood Asylum: A Paranormal Horror by L.A. Detwiler (recommended reading txt) 📕

Jack was convinced that pig’s blood was a cure for the ailment the boy encountered. The staff member who found him, a long-time nurse from floor five, claimed that Jack thought the antibodies in the pig’s blood would eliminate the wicked, demonic possession in the boy. He was hoping to cure him so he could escape from the walls of the asylum.

Investigations occurred. Charges were filed. But as do many things in the town of Oakwood, the paperwork disappeared in favor of a stay at the asylum for Jack himself.

Jack, the janitor on floor two, spent the first few weeks banging on the door wildly, accusing the asylum of keeping him hostage. Luckily, after a visit from Anna and an assurance by a few doctors that their shock therapy would rid him of his newly developed mental instability, Jack quieted. As many of us know, despair is a wonderous cure for the spirit to survive.

Jack melted into himself, a fixture on floor two. Perhaps worst of all, though, was the fact that Jack, in his limited time in the asylum, had uncovered a few dark secrets that should have been a warning. He had not heeded them, nevertheless, wrapped up in the romanticized notion that Redwood needed him and that he could not leave it.

Now, it is far too late for Jack, like so many of us in Redwood. Trapped by the stone walls, powerless and alone, he spends his time on floor two trying to convince the world he isn’t crazy; nonetheless, the world does not want to listen.

The world never listens to madness, as history and time prove. It shuts it out instead, haughtily believing they are above it and that modern medicine seeks to cure and not to profit.

They say the world changes a lot—but since the founding of Redwood, I have determined that such a notion is, resolutely, false. For at Redwood, extraordinarily little has changed. The hunger for power and money has simply passed down from hand to generational hand.

Chapter Twenty-One

Coffees in hand, I approached the desk on floor five resolutely. I needed to smooth things over with Anna. I’d been behaving unpredictably; no wonder she was leery of me. I’d let the craziness with 5B and my past get in the way of our working relationship.

Ready to extend the peace offering to her, she turned and studied me. Her face wore a weak smile, one that said she pitied me but was also suspicious.

“I’m so sorry about yesterday. I brought you a coffee,” I said like a sad child extending some picked weeds from the flower garden after misbehaving.

“Thank you, Jessica,” she replied. The formality in her voice resonated between us. I’d worked in the medical field long enough to know something serious was coming my way.

“We have decided to move you. Congratulations, you’re headed to the easier floor. Floor two.” She proclaimed it with a lightness that I knew didn’t exist. I blinked, staring at her.

“Why?”

She turned and busied her hands with paperwork. “We often move the newbies to another floor after a period of time. And with all of 5B’s obsessions, we thought it would be best for you to get some distance.”

Shock and dismay bubbled within me. It felt like a demotion, like I’d failed. I didn’t like failing. I put the coffees down on the desk and steadied myself by leaning on the decrepit wooden ledge. It felt like last time. I breathed in and out to calm myself, choosing my words wisely.

“But I like working up here.”

“Well, it isn’t always about what we like in this field, is it? It’s about what’s best. And we feel it’s best for you to get some space, and it’s perhaps best for the residents of floor five.”

She turned to face me again, this time wiping her hands together as if she were wiping her hands of me. In some ways, she was.

I stared and studied her for a long moment. I wanted to argue, to fight for my spot on the fifth floor. I knew I should be ecstatic, but besides the fact that it felt like I’d failed, I knew it would be harder to interact with 5B now. Next to impossible. But the look on Anna’s face said it was over. To fight would be to stir more suspicion. I nodded gently as she gave me some instructions. Roxy would be my go-to tonight until I figured it out, although she assured me the patients on floor two were much simpler to handle.

I walked away slowly, trying to keep my shoulders straight and my head high in a feeble attempt to hold it together. I willed myself not to turn and look down the hallway toward his room, to think about what drawings he might be creating.

Ambling down the staircase, I knew it would be harder now. But I couldn’t give up, not like last time. I’d bowed out last time because I didn’t have a choice. Now, I did have a decision to make. I wouldn’t be the one who crawled away, tail between her legs and fear suffocating her heart and mind. I’d be the strong one to crack the case. And then they’d see. I’d be the one deciding on shifts and floors. I’d be the one Redwood turned to for leadership.

As I beeped my badge to enter floor two, a thought struck me.

We. Anna had said We.

Who were the powers of we? And even though Anna had been in the asylum as a nurse for a long while, why was she one of the deciding factors? It felt sometimes like Anna saw the asylum as her own sanctuary, as her own place. She touted an air of ownership as she walked about, I realized. It was peculiar, her attachment. Apparently, Redwood had its claws deep in her as well, perhaps deeper than she’d ever admit.

I sighed, looking for Roxy. I found her at the center desk, a smile and