The heavy air was thick with dust and smelled of mold and a rancid odor that Violet couldn't pinpoint. Violet opened her eyes to find that she was no longer where she was when she closed them. Why, was she in this new place she had no idea. She frantically looked around at the new settings that surrounded her. She found herself in an old dusty room.

There was a thick coat of dust on every surface including the walls. It seemed like when this place was new the walls would have been a sterile white color. There was a bed with holes in the mattress and rusty metal springs sticking out of the fabric every which way under the single window on the far wall. The window was so dirty and covered in webs that Violet couldn't see out. On one side of the bed was a tall metal stick on wheels with hooks on the top. There was a bag hanging from a hook that had a tube running down to the bed. On the other side of the bed was a metal nightstand with some flowers in a crystal vase. The flowers looked as if they had been dead and wilted for years.
Violet walked over to them on quivering legs. She reached out a shaking hand to touch what she assumed used to be blood red roses. The wilted dark red, almost black, petals disintegrated to dust under her gentle touch. As she turned in a full circle to gather in her surroundings once more, all the little details of the old strange room made sense. She was in a recovery room in an old hospital, and by the looks of it, it had been abandoned for decades.

Violet looked down to find dark splotches under the dust on the floor. She used her foot to brush away the dust over one of the dark spots. It was a dark, crusty red, like old blood. The spots were laid out in a path that led out the door. As Violet slowly walked to the door she heard a high pitched whimper coming from the other side of it. The large cold hand of fear started to claw and grab at her heart. Her heart rate started to go up booming in her ears and her breath caught. She opened the old squeaky door expecting to see an injured bleeding person she could help on the other side. But what she saw and heard was much worse.

As soon as the door opened she was attacked by voices. She covered her ears with her hands hoping to block them out but it was no use. Her head was filled to the breaking point with moans, cries for mercy and pleas. The last moans, cries for mercy, and pleas from those who had long passed. From the souls that violently died and were now stuck in the halls of this old building. Searching for a way to cross over and put an ending to their eternal pain. There were so many voices banging on the inside of her head that she thought it may explode. Her fear raised to another level she never had experienced before. Her heart was pounding so fast she thought it would shatter.

Breathing heavily she lowered her hands and ran out into the hall hoping to escape the voices. She slowed to a quick walk as she absorbed her surroundings, trying to forget about the voices. Most of the lights overhead were not working with some even hanging down by the wires, but every other one was flickering with a loud buzz. The ground was littered with old I.V bags, glass, papers, old hospital gowns, and many other objects. there were hospital beds laying in the hallway in strange positions. It looked as if they had been thrown to the side and trampled. Then Violet made the mistake of looking up at the walls.

There was dried blood all over the walls. There were big long smears going sideways and vertical. Like someone was trying to use the wall to drag their helpless bleeding body to someone who could help them, but kept falling down on the way.The voices got louder reaching their climax. There were hand prints and splatters all over, a little ways down the hallway someone had used their blood and wrote “Help” on the wall. There last cry for help frozen in time, and the only evidence that they had ever been there. Violet realized that the smell that welcomed her to this place was that of old blood, infections, and rotten bodies. Where those were rotten bodies where she did not know and didn't plan on finding out.

As Violet took all this in and trying hard not to give in to her nausea, the voices suddenly stopped.

Violet looked at the wall once more. That’s when she realized that a midst all the old dry blood there was fresh blood. It was in one spot right where an averaged height person’s head would be. It looked as if someone’s head had been taken and smashed into the wall. Then she looked down on the floor. There was a trail of fresh blood leading down the hallway.

Suddenly all the voices came back full force, but this time they were screaming. Violet fell to her hands and knees, cutting them up on the glass that littered the ground. She didn’t feel it. Violet covered her ears with her bloody hands and screamed along with them. The screams filled her head and cracking open her skull. The pain was more than she could bear. Then all the screams stopped, all but one. All the other screams were just in her head, this one was real and was coming from wherever the trail of blood led.

Now all she could hear was the scream of a boy. It was the kind of scream that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. It was the scream of pure pain and utter terror. And what made it worse was that it belonged to Drake.

“Drake!” Violet screamed. She jumped to her feet and ran in the direction of his screams. “I’m coming, just hold on! Please Drake just hold on.” Violet cried out as she ran. She ran through several hallways trying to find him. Her hot tears of fear ran down her face, blurring her vision. Finally the hallway dead ended at a set of doors. There was a dull light shining from under them and through the windows. The screams came from the other side. Drake’s screams of pain came to a sudden stop.

“No!” Violet yelled. She burst through the doors, praying that he didn’t die. She came to a halt at the entryway of the room she had just entered. She found herself in a dimly lit room with a single hospital bed in the center. A hospital bed surrounded by a pool of blood. A person was curled up in fetal position on the bed, and not just any person, it was Drake. And he wasn't moving.

Violet ran to the bed but the harder she ran the father away Drake seemed. She could feel the world around her break apart. Her vision tunneled and darken. She reached out to Drake with a quivering hand hoping to grab him before she was pulled too far away, but missed. Before her vision went black completely she saw Drake turn toward her. His face was covered in wounds. The last thing she saw before being pulled away was Drake whispering her name.

Violet jerked awake in her bed covered in a cold sweat accompanied with a racing heart. Her limbs were tangled up in the blankets. Tears streaming down her face. “that was too real to have been a normal nightmare,” she thought, “it was a message. From whoever took Drake.” She untangled herself from the blankets and shuffled over to the window seat that was in her room. She sat down by the window and cried. She cried from the fear that was still leftover from her nightmare, the relief that her boyfriend, Drake, was alive, and the fear that he wouldn't be by the time she found him.