5:00 pm. Screaming echoed through the neighborhood like nails screeching as they get dragged across a chalkboard. Lisa was at the front door crying hysterically as she peered into the partially covered bay window in the front of the house. The gory scene included her neighbor Callie lying on the pine hardwood floor in a pool of blood, still as a statue with a pale complexion. In a stunned yet alert manner, Lisa looked around the yard for anything she could use to get inside. After a couple minutes she noticed a large and heavy rock which she used to break off the door knob. She rushed to Callie’s side kneeling on the floor, lifting her head up, and cradling it in her lap with tears streaming down her cheeks. “Oh my god, oh my god, okay, okay, 911.” Lisa dials 911.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“Yes hi! Hello! I need an ambulance!”

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“I don’t know! I went to my neighbors house and saw her lying on the floor in a pool of blood so I broke in and called you!”

“What’s the address?”

“5279 N Clements Dr, Krest, 72937!”

“Okay ma’am an ambulance is on its way. Can you tell me your name?”

“Yes my name is Lisa Andrews. My friend is Callie Martins! She’s bleeding out fast!”

“Okay, just apply pressure to the wound and the ambulance will be there shortly.”

“Okay.”

The front of the house went from light brown, beige almost, to flashing cherry red as the ambulance lights were cast upon it. The ambulance pulled into the driveway and two police cars pulled up in front of the house parking on the street. First was an officer running up to the off-white door opening it for the paramedics as they rushed a gurney inside. An officer walked up to Lisa grabbing her by the shoulders to escort her outside and ask her some questions. She stepped over the doors threshold as the cop followed behind her. He walked over to his patrol car and took out a soft, velvety navy blue blanket from the trunk. He wrapped the blanket around her and pulled out a small black notebook.

“Are you okay miss?”

“Uh, ya, um what? Yes I think so.” Lisa said as she craned her neck to try and see inside.

“What’s your name?”

“Um, Lisa Andrews.”

“What’s your friends name?”

“Callie Martins.”

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“Yes, I was going over to her house to ask if she would be willing to watch Wessley, my son, tomorrow. I walked over here and knocked on the door, there wasn’t an answer so I knocked again and tried the doorbell. Still no answer so I looked through the front window and I saw her on the floor not moving, surrounded by blood. That’s when I grabbed a rock and broke the door knob to get in and I called 911.”

“Where do you live?”

“Right there.” She pointed directly next door to the blue house on the right.   

“And how well do you know Mrs. Martins?”

“It’s just Ms. Martins. Her husband passed away from thyroid cancer two … and a half? years ago now. But her and I have been close friends for around 14 years. We went to college together. I can’t believe this happened to her. She didn’t deserve this.”

Lisa took a quick glance at the officers name sewn onto the front of his uniform. Clayton. Officer Clayton. The sound of wheels hitting the bottom ridge of the door frame caught Lisa’s attention. She whipped her head around and ran up to the gurney walking quickly along side it as the paramedics rushed it to the ambulance.

“Oh my god! Callie! Is she gonna be okay? Can i come with her?”

“Miss, we’re gonna do everything we can but we need you to stay here. We’re taking her to Prontine Hospital.”

There Lisa stood, alone in the middle of Callie’s front yard, surrounded by flashing lights and people with shiny gold badges pinned on their uniforms. She remembered a time when the neighborhood used to be sunny and colorful as the vibrant chalk filled the sidewalks from young children running around playing tag and blowing bubbles. Over time, the kids grew up and left home, the chalk vanished with the pouring rain that left the sun to say goodbye for awhile as dark clouds were swept above leaving the sky to look like a swirl of deep blues and greys. Such darkness reminded her of the phrase ‘a bull in a china shop’, it just rolls in and destroys all the priceless beauty around it with one fell swoop.

The ambulance is long gone but several policemen are still floating in and out of the house blocking it off with the golden yellow tape that says, ‘CRIME SCENE - DO NOT ENTER’ repeatedly. Lisa dropped her head in disbelief and slowly strolled on home to what she thought was the “comfort” of her own home; that was no longer the case.

After Lisa shut her front door, she leaned her back against it and slid down to the floor in a crouching position with her hands combing through and clutching her hair. She closed her eyes and sat there for a bit. Her long, wavy blonde locks were now a deep shade of red. With a look of horror spreading across Lisa’s face, she frantically ran to her master bathroom and immediately turned the shower on. She stared into the large rectangular mirror fastened to the wall, noticing the unrealistic amount of blood that had stained her clothes as the steam from the hot water filled the room. They were immediately disposed of and she bolted straight for the shower and began vigorously scrubbing her skin and hair to hopefully not only rid herself of Callie’s blood, but the memory of what had happened that night.

The ambulance was shaking as it sped down the street, weaving through traffic on its way to Prontine Hospital. The bright white light in the back of the rig lit up the surrounding medical equipment enclosed in cabinets and drawers. Two of the paramedics were sitting on each side of Callie who was lying on the gurney with a tube sticking out of her arm measuring her vitals.

“There’s a stab wound located on the chest. Just missed the superior vena cava.”

“Okay; keep applying pressure.”

Caught up in the heat of the moment trying to stop the excessive bleeding, the last thing the paramedics noticed was the blueish purple ligature mark wrapping around her neck like a snake. She was wearing a black ribbed turtleneck that conveniently covered it up. Two miles left to go and her breathing had now become shallow. The monitor showing Callie’s blood pressure, breathing, and heart rate got calmer as the lines became more and more linear. One mile left and the sound of a continuous beep drowns out the sound of the sirens.

“Damn it! Starting compressions!”

“Stay with us Callie!”

The sign reads, “Prontine Hospital Emergency Room”. Within seconds the back doors are flung open. It’s too late, she’s lost too much blood. A trauma doctor appears from behind one of the doors, looks at the paramedics just nodding their heads, looking at the floor, covered in blood as it drips from the sides of the gurney.

“Time of death, 5:47.”

Lisa had just walked into her kitchen and set her phone on the white marble countertop when it rang.

“Hello is this Lisa Andrews?”

“Um yes it is, who is this?”

“I’m Emily, a nurse at Prontine Hospital; you are listed as the emergency contact for Callie Martins. I am calling to tell you that Callie unfortunately didn’t make it. She bled out on the way to the hospital. I am so sorry for your loss.”

On the surface of the kitchen floor, a small puddle appeared, getting bigger and bigger as it spread across the hardwood, soaking into her charcoal colored socks. Lisa felt dizzy and lightheaded almost dropping her phone when she heard the news. Her knees got shaky and were just barely able to keep her on her feet.

“Okay. Thank you for calling.” She stuttered in between loud yet short breaths.

Lisa hung up the phone with unsteady hands, fumbling it back onto the counter. Alone she stood in the dimly lit kitchen unable to process what she just heard. Tears gushed from her eyes and streamed down her cheeks until the teardrops fell from her chin to the floor like a torrential rain. The loss of Callie Martins was an unfathomable thought that Lisa didn’t want to acknowledge.

The next day Lisa was woken up by the loud pounding coming from the other side of her front door. At this point Lisa was paranoid by even the slightest of sounds considering she had been alone in her house all night. She did not want her son anywhere near the harsh realities of the world at such a young age, giving his five year old brain negative views of what life could entail. Lisa took her time walking to the door, making sure to make as little noise as possible since she didn’t know who was behind it. Looking through the peephole she recognized one out of the two men in uniform. The faint sound of the lock clicking sideways and the door knob turning made Lisa’s heart rate skyrocket.

“Officer Clayton. What’s going on?”

“Hello Ms. Andrews. We need to bring you down to the station to answer a few questions and give a formal statement of what happened.”

“Oh. Okay. Sure. Uh, let me just change and grab my purse and I’ll be right out.”

On the way to the station Lisa sat in the back of the squad car twiddling her thumbs and staring out the window. The only sound was the occasional report from the policemen’s radios and the faint sound of traffic as cars whizzed by.

“Right this way miss.” Officer Clayton says as he opens the back door of the car and motions towards the building.

“Thank you.”

As soon as Lisa stepped foot in the station her nose crinkled up making the lines in her forehead more apparent and her eyes look smaller as they squint to make her facial expression more dramatic. The smell was far from pleasant, putrid more like it. Lisa looked down at the white tiled floor as she walked behind the officers, noticing that the tiles looked more off-white now and scuffed up from years of continuous foot traffic. To the left she saw officers working behind a main desk staring at ridiculously large computer monitors while talking on the phone, feet swung up and resting on top. To the right was the wall of the city’s most wanted. Pictures, names, descriptions, crimes, some of which sounded familiar from hearing about them on the news. The wall behind the pictures of criminals was grey which didn’t help brighten the place up as it absorbed most of the yellow fluorescent light into its darkness. The texture was that of a popcorn ceiling; doesn’t feel good to touch and isn’t nice to look at.

“You can have a seat right in here Ms. Andrews and detective Molly will be right in.” The second officer said as he opened the door to a conference room.

She looked around the room and took note that there were no pictures or anything on the walls. Just plain old white paint. Lisa took a seat in a black mesh wheeling chair and set her purse down on the rich mahogany conference room table.

“Hello there. I’m detective Molly and I would just like to gather a little information.”

“Anything I can do to help.”

“Can you start off by telling me the sequence of events last night including full details?”

Lisa recounted what happened once more.

“Thank you. Now I have some information for you as well, but I can only tell you this; The autopsy report showed that the cause of death was a stab wound to the chest. A ligature mark was also found around the nape of her neck. It’s believed that Ms. Martins was strangled with some sort of rope determined by a small twisted like pattern that was found upon closer inspection.”

“Do you have any idea who did this?” Lisa asked in a baffled manner. Unable to grasp the details of the abstruse situation.

“I am not inclined to release that privy information to you at this time. But we are doing everything that we can to figure out what happened.”

“Alright.”

Detective Molly wheeled her chair out, got up, and walked out of the room heading back towards the main desk carrying in one hand a manila colored folder. Lisa was given a ride home from officer Clayton after questioning.

“Thank you officer for driving me home.”

“You’re welcome Ms. Andrews. Have a nice day.”

Lisa walked down the little walkway to her front door and up the three small, cold, cement steps to get inside.

Over the course of the next few weeks Lisa went about her life and daily routine very paranoid and absent minded. She hardly got any sleep; only when she was beyond exhausted and her body would give out on her would she get some sleep and even that didn’t last very long. She was given a week off from work at the photography studio so she could try to process everything and then go back a little more mentally prepared as her boss understood the trauma Lisa had been through. However, what was supposed to be her first week back to work, she only made it about three out of the seven days she was scheduled. Her boss figured that a whole week off was reasonable and even let the days missed slide, but if it happened again the third week, she would have to consider letting Lisa go.

One night, Lisa was sitting on her couch covered in blankets watching the news with all of the lights on, blinds shut, and doors and windows locked, when the news anchor said, “A second woman this month in her mid 30’s was found dead in her home Thursday night with a stab wound to the chest and a ligature mark around her neck. The ligature mark had been conveniently covered up with a turtleneck exactly like the one the first victim was wearing when she was found. The first victim has been identified as Callie Martins who was found in her house by her neighbor just three weeks prior to the vicious murder of April Sinclair. DNA found at the first crime scene is still being processed as it was reported inconclusive the first time.”

Now a month after Callie’s death, Lisa had been getting back to “normal” with the exception of consistent thoughts and nightmares about that night. So mentally, she might never get back to normal, but her life, eventually. She wanted and needed to know more about what Callie had gotten herself into that this would have happened to her. Lisa grabbed her spare key to Callie’s house that she was given when they both moved into that neighborhood in case someone was out of town or in the event of an emergency. All of the policemen and detectives were long gone at this point taking their crime scene tape with them. The house looked so normal and cookie cutter just as it did before it had been tainted with tragedy. She walked through her front yard and into Callie’s next door. Lisa took her time shuffling up to the house. When she finally made it to the door, her heart rate rapidly increased as visions of Callie lying on the floor in a pool of blood flooded her memories. She couldn’t see what was directly in front of her, it was like she was back in that horrific moment seeing it all for the first time. With deep hesitation Lisa pushed the door open but stood completely still, not yet walking through the door.

“Come on Lisa. You can do this. Just step through the door.” She said to herself.

After what seemed like an eternity, Lisa entered the house. An array of scents wafted towards her as she walked in that were strong enough to knock someone out. It was apparent that bleach and other strong chemicals were used to clean up the blood stain that was now ingrained in the hardwood floor. Lisa could see one area on the floor that didn’t leave a mark. It was where she was sitting next to Callie that night. She walked further into the house with each step making the floorboards creak, the next one louder than the one before. Except for this one floorboard that neither Callie nor Lisa could figure out why it was the only one that didn’t creak from the minute Callie moved into the house. The air felt extremely cold. Everything Lisa touched was freezing so she walked to the thermostat. 74 degrees.

“74 degrees? What the hell? Then why is it so cold in here?”

She stepped back from the thermostat with immense confusion but she still wanted to continue walking through the house. Next stop, the kitchen. Immediately as Lisa crossed that living room threshold into the kitchen she felt the room heat up at least 10 degrees from what the living room temperature was. A light bulb lit up in her head for a split second and she bolted straight for the spot only Callie and herself knew about. It was used to keep or hide things for each other in case one was out of town and wanted to leave the other something important. There was one specific tile in the subway backsplash that was rigged to pop open when you push back one side of it. As soon as Lisa opened it, she saw a post it note stuck to the screen of Callie’s phone that said ‘It’s on my phone’. But what made Lisa worried is that it was written almost to the point of being illegible. Callie had perfect pendmenship. Lisa was speechless, her breathing became shallow, and when she looked up from the note and looked out the window, her reflection revealed a ghastly complexion. Lisa took the note off the screen and placed it on the counter so she could unlock the phone and see what Callie left for her.

Messages, cleared. Pictures, cleared. Emails, cleared. The only thing Lisa found on Callie’s phone was a note that said voice memo. As she opened the app, Lisa was very apprehensive about what she was going to hear. There it was, the only thing left on this phone, a single recording. Play.

“You made them come after me! You told them! Now they know everything! Oh my god! Ahh! Don’t hurt me! I’m sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry!”

“John, who’s after you?”

“They’re after me! Ahh! How did they find me? They’re here! Oh no oh no oh no no no no no I can’t.”

“John, who found you?”

“LEAVE ME ALONE! GET OUT! I”LL KILL YOU! GET OUT!”

*Muffled noises*

*Door slam*

End of recording.

At this point Lisa was petrified and shaking ever so slightly with tears welling up in her eyes by what she just heard. Lisa ripped the note off the counter, gripped the phone in her hand, and sprinted to the door letting it slam shut behind her. She whipped through her front door, took her keys and rushed to her car.

Directly in front of the police station, Lisa sped her car to an abrupt stop almost jumping out of the car before it stopped moving. Leaving the car running and the door open Lisa raced up the front steps of the station and right up to the front desk.

“Officer Clayton! I need officer Clayton! It’s urgent!”

“Alright Ma’am. Your name?”

“Lisa Andrews! Please! It’s about my friend Callie Martins! Please!”

“Oh! Okay, yes I’ll get him right away!”

The lady at the front desk turned to the police radio she had on her uniform.

“Officer Clayton to 1. 603. 603. Officer Clayton to 1.”

Down the stairs jogs officer Clayton.

“Ms. Andrews, what happened?”

“Callie left me something. I brought it straight here after I heard it! It’s a recording of her talking to someone named John. I don’t know his last name.”

“Okay Ms. Andrews follow me and i’ll take a listen.”

Lisa was led back into the conference room she was questioned in. She unlocked the phone and handed it over to officer Clayton.

“Where did you get this?”

“I wanted to go back into Callie’s house and see if anything was out of the ordinary because I know how everything is in her house and where everything is. It was the same for her and my house. I also wanted to try and face everything head on and see if I could process anything cause I can’t stop thinking about what happened, what I saw. I was walking through the house when I remembered this specific spot that only her and I knew about to leave each other stuff. I wasn’t expecting there to be anything but still thought I should look. That’s where I found her phone and a note that said ‘It’s on my phone’ so I opened it but everything was erased except for a note that said voice memos so I went into the app and heard that.”

They listened to the memo about two times over.

“Ms. Andrews, do you know if Callie had any friends or family named John?”

“Uhh, not that I can recall. Wait, I know she did some work at St. Clements Hospital for a while. I think I remember her mentioning someone whose name started with J but I don’t know if it was John or not.”

“Did she ever mention anyone who was troublesome there, or anyone she didn’t get along with?”

“Yes. She talked about a patient worrying her quite a bit but wasn’t allowed to mention any names because of the whole, uh, what’s it called? Doctor patient confidentiality thing.”

“Okay, well thank you for coming in and bring the phone. We’re going to process and analyze this further.”

“Thank you! Thank you! You’ve been so kind and helpful.”

“You’re welcome. Are you okay? Do you need a ride home?”

“No, thank you though.”

Slowly Lisa drove home, but still making sure to take all of the shortcuts she knows. After she pulled into her driveway and put the car in park, she pulled out her phone. 2837. Open voice memos. Play. Lisa recorded the voice memo from Callie’s phone. She wasn’t dumb enough to turn in the phone without keeping a copy for herself. She was more curious than anything. Determined to figure out what happened to her best friend.

Lisa studied that recording. She listened to it at least 50 times a day, taking notes, researching. Needless to say this took up a lot of her time. She became obsessed. Day in and day out Lisa was trying to connect the dots.

Three weeks later Lisa heard something new in the recording that she hadn’t heard before. She listened to the door shut at the end before the recording cut off. All this time Lisa was hung up on the conversation between Callie and John that once she heard the muffled sounds, she stopped listening closely and would just go back to the beginning and start over. The slam of the door was too loud to be a regular wood door. As soon as the door shut behind Callie as she ran out of the room, there was a loud double thud followed by three clicks. Judging by the volume of the door closing, Lisa thought it has to be a large door, heavy. Metal most likely. The double thud stumped her.

“Doors don’t make that much noise when they close.”

Lisa stood up from the couch and walked to the closest door in her house. She opened it and then slowly closed it trying to figure out the whole double thud thing. She opened and closed the door a few times but it only made one thud sound. Finally after about five times of opening and closing the door she became overwhelmed with fury that she wasn’t getting anywhere so she whipped the door closed as she turned around to go back to the couch. However the door didn’t shut completely, it bounced back. Lisa turned around and watched as the door slowly came to a stop. She was too blinded by anger to think through how that happened in a logically. A few steps back towards the door she grabbed the side of it and gently pushed it towards the wall. She noticed the silver mechanism that sticks out the side of the door had hit the trim on the wall preventing it from closing. You have to turn the doorknob to push the mechanism in so when you close the door, it goes into a hole in the wall keeping it shut. The only way she could get the door to make a double thud sound was when she pushed the door shut, the mechanism hit the trim, and then she turned the knob to fully close the door. Breakthrough. But what were the three clicks?

The day following this miraculous discovery, Lisa went back to the police station to see if she could get any more information at all about the case. She knew it wasn’t likely considering it was an ongoing investigation, but she thought maybe there was a chance because she was part of it.

“Hi, may I speak to officer Clayton please?”

“Regarding…?”

“Callie Martins.”

The lady at the front desk turned to her radio and called for officer Clayton.”

A few minutes go by and Lisa feels a tap on her shoulder.

“Ms. Andrews. What can I do for you?”

“I was wondering if there was anything you could tell me about what was on the phone?”

“Unfortunately not at this time. The phone and the recording are still both being thoroughly processed.”

“Okay thanks anyway.”

This time on the way back home from the station Lisa was thinking about the three clicks. It has to be a large and heavy door, so it couldn’t have been in a house.

“Heavy metal doors are usually used in factories, warehouses … holy shit. Hospitals.”

Lisa wanted to check to see if that was completely accurate so she started picking up speed as she drove down Casing Ave. She pulled into the St. Clements Hospital parking lot, parked, and then headed for the revolving door that everyone loves so dearly. In the ever so slow revolving door, she was so pumped up with adrenaline from possibly figuring out another piece of the puzzle that when there was enough space for her to slip through, she busted out of there like a horse bolting out of the gate at the start of a race. She walked up and down every hallway in the hospital, working her way up to the final floor she was allowed to be on. Every door, was either wood or sliding glass doors. However, there were still two more floors she hadn’t been on.

RESTRICTED AREA. AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.

They were the two floors that were home to, eh, maybe about 50 mental patients. It was the infamous St. Clements Hospital psych ward. At that moment a nurse was walking past her so she stopped him to ask a simple question.

“Hi. Uh, my name is Lisa Andrews, my friend Callie Martins used to work here. Did you know her?”

“Yes. Callie was such a sweet girl, always smiling, always making people laugh. Why do you ask?”

“Well I’m trying to figure something out and was wondering if I could ask you some questions. Would that be okay?”

“Yes. Yeah, that would be fine.”

“Thank you! Okay, let’s start off easy. Are there heavy metal doors used upstairs in the psych ward?”

“Yes there are. It’s a law that we have them as protection for the doctors and nurses that work up there.”

“I knew it! Okay second. Do you know if Callie ever worked with someone named John?”

“Uhm, I think there actually was one guy named John. There aren’t any doctors or nurses that work here with that name. But I do remember Callie being nervous to work with this one patient, and she was never nervous to work with anyone, but this guy, absolutely terrified. Especially after the incident.”

“What incident?”

“Now that, I’m not allowed to say.”

“Fair enough. Moving on. What ever happened to John?”

“He was moved to a mental hospital last year after said incident but that’s all I know about it.”

“Then that’s all the questions I have for you. Thank you so much! I’ll get out of your hair now. Bye.”

“No problem.”

Lisa had just found out more information in the five minutes she spent talking to the nurse than she had in the last month.

Using that information she researched every mental hospital within a 50 mile radius. Only seven popped up. The first one was the Alstead Institute for the Mentally Insane. Lisa searched the internet inside and out looking for anything that might have happened within the last year that could provide more information or even direction as to what to do next. But there was nothing. Next up on the roster was Trinity Mental Institute. Same thing, Lisa viciously scoured the internet but came up with nothing but some of the treatments they offer and how big the grounds are. Third was the Pelton Insane Asylum. It was the smallest of the three she had looked at as well as the farthest out in the middle of nowhere. A second after she typed the name of the hospital into google, every headline was an outrageous story of one violent patient after the other. However as Lisa was scrolling through the different articles, she found one that was written about eight months earlier titled ‘Mental Patient Escapes After Assaulting Three Nurses Leaving Them in Critical Condition’. That headline really caught Lisa’s attention. She couldn’t have clicked on the link fast enough. In the beginning of the article it briefly went through the incident that occurred and how the patient got out.

“Blah blah blah … patient escaped after beating three nurses who are now in critical condition. Be on the lookout for a guy of blah blah blah hair color, blah blah blah height, blah blah blah John Shrichter, blah blah woah hold on! John Shrichter.”

Immediately she opened another tab and looked up the name John Shrichter. What she found had her beyond words. John Shricter, CEO of ClueRight Enterprise, has mental breakdown and is checked into St. Clements Hospital for psychiatric evaluation. Time stamp of the article, one year ago. Lisa went back and started really reading it from the beginning, taking in every single word making sure not to miss anything. As it recounted the incident, the part that stood out to Lisa was that the hospital was reviewing the patient tapes for their own investigation as they have to report all incidents to the Board of the hospital for legal purposes.

She didn’t want to go down to the station again so she decided to call officer Clayton instead.

“Officer Clayton, I bet you can already guess who this is by now.”

“Lisa Andrews? Is that you?”

“Yes. Now I was doing some research and well, could you talk to Pelton Insane Asylum?”

“Why?”

“Well there was a patient there that escaped about eight months ago named John Shrichter. The article said they were analyzing his patient tape. Would you be able to compare that audio to the one in the voice memo to see if they are even similar?”

“I guess we could.”

“Great. Thanks.”

After officer Clayton hung up the phone he looked at another officer in the room with a look of disbelief, confusion, and a little bit of annoyance as Lisa Andrews continued to call and come into the station with information and her thoughts on the case. She just can’t let the police do their job to catch the now dubbed ‘Krest Killer’. But after all, for some reason he just can’t say no to Lisa.

The next day officer Clayton drove to Pelton Insane Asylum to investigate what Lisa was talking about with their patient tapes. It wasn’t too difficult to find the place considering it was the only enormously ancient looking building standing off of a single road in the middle of nowhere. As he cautiously drove up to the building he was hunched over the steering wheel of his black ford explorer police car to get a better look at the mental institute in its entirety. He noticed the solid beige speckled brick that surrounded the exterior gave him a cold and haunting feeling. Sticking out from the brick were the windows with large sturdy metal bars cemented on the inside leaving space in between so the patients can’t reach the glass, even though it’s plexiglass, they take every precaution. Clayton parked the car and walked up to the front door. He stopped for a second to take a moment and look straight up and all around the front of the building before going in. Obviously it’s a mental hospital so you can’t just walk right in, you have to stop at a window off to the side and check in to which they decide if you get in.

“Uh hi. I’m officer Clayton. I was wondering if I could talk to someone that works with the patient tapes? I’m following up on a lead for the case I’m working on.”

“Here, fill out your information first.”

“Alright.”

The woman looked over the paperwork and entered it all into the computer and slid a hospital badge through the small sliver of a cutout they call the passthrough at the bottom of the window.

“I called Will. He will meet you inside in a minute, he’s on his way up.”

“Thank you.”

The door buzzed then clicked and he was in. Officer Clayton began walking slowly through the doors listening to the sounds of patients crying, screaming, banging on doors, singing, and talking to themselves. To his left appears a guy, maybe 5’ 5”, that might be pushing it, short blonde hair, wearing blue jeans, a Pelton Hospital shirt, a badge dangling from a lanyard around his neck, and white Nike sneakers.

“Hi! You must be officer Clayton, I’m Will. I understand you want to talk about patient tapes? Is that correct?”

“Hi. Yes. I know that there was an incident with a patient named John Shrichter and wanted to take a look at his tape.”

“Sure. No problem, follow me.”

As they walked through the halls of Pelton, officer Clayton was terrified, jumping at every loud bang that echoed through his ears while Will never even flinched. They approached an elevator at the dead end of the hallway and stepped inside.

*Elevator going down* says the robotic elevator voice.

When the doors opened officer Clayton was surprised that there was only a short hallway that went out like 5 feet from the elevator with one door on the left wall and one yellow recessed light to poorly illuminate the space. Will leaned forward and pushed his badge against a small charcoal colored box. The light flashed green and the door clicked, unlocking, as Will turned the knob and walked into the surprisingly large room lit by tons of fluorescent lights dangling from the ceiling. The room looked like the Eiffel Tower at night with the amount of small blinking lights that reflected off of the numerous computer monitors all over the room. The perimeter of the room was lined with 20 monitors on each side and a large island in the center of the room serving as a desk for about another 10 monitors. 90 employees, 90 computers.

“Woah.”

“I know, there’s a lot. Over here.”

Will sits at his computer and pulls up the tape for John.

“Here it is. Take a seat.”

Will pressed play and officer Clayton watched carefully.

“Can I get a copy of that tape?”

“Yes but it will take a few minutes for me to download the file to a different software, change the file type so you get audio and video, then put it on a different flash drive protected by a secure password. So if you want you can take a seat over there til it’s done.”

15 minutes later Will hands over the new flash drive to officer Clayton and back to the station he goes. He got in the car and sped away from the mental hospital. When he watched the tape, he heard something that could possibly blow this case wide open. He pulled up to the station and jumped out of the car. Inside he shot up the stairs and to the station tech guys running so fast he could match up with Usain Bolt.

Out of breath, officer Clayton busted through the door dropping the flash drive on the desk in front of Chris.

“Play this. Analyze this voice. Tell me, does it match up with the one from the voice memo?”

Chris pulled up the voice memo and plugged in the flash drive running them both through their audio recognition system to see if it was a hit. The screen lit up bright green like a Christmas tree. MATCH FOUND. The bright light from the screen lit up their faces, reflecting them back on the monitor revealing a look a of both surprise and joy. Officer Clayton was beyond impressed and even more so curious as to how Lisa discovered this. He went back to his desk and wrote up a report and sent out a BOLO. Next up, he gave Lisa a call.

“Hello?”

“Lisa, hi it’s officer Clayton. I have some good news. I reviewed the tape from Pelton Insane Asylum and had it analyzed back at the station. It was a match.”

“Oh my god I knew it! Alright so now what?”

“I sent out a BOLO so now you have to let us do our job and catch the guy. Can you do that?”

“Yes. I mean I guess I could.”

“Great okay I’ll be in touch.”

“Wait! Hey, um, after you catch him, would you want to get coffee with me?”

“You know what? Yes. After all this is done, I would love to. I thought you’d never ask. Have a good one.” He said with a smile.

“Alright! Yeah you too!”

Shortly after officer Clayton hung up the phone with Lisa, his computer screen at his desk went completely black. One minute he was looking up information in the suspect database, and the next he was looking at his puzzled reflection that was backlit from the tiny window behind him.

“What the hell?” He mumbled to himself.

Clayton tapped the top of the monitor because, you know, that fixes everything, but nothing happened. He bent down to try unplugging and plugging it back in, which he did, however, when he sat back up in his chair, there was a message on the screen.

‘Officer Clayton, Lisa is a very beautiful girl. Would be a shame if something happened to her. Let’s play a game. I’ll hide first. Come find me.’

“Oh my god.” He said with severe alarm and fury.

He pushed his desk chair back leaving it to slam into the brick wall and flew back up the stairs, again to the tech room.

“Chris, John has Lisa, he just hacked my computer. Can you trace the message?”

“I should be able to trace it back to the IP address that it was sent from. Give me a minute.”

About five minutes passed of Chris violently typing and Clayton pacing back and forth behind Chris with his arms crossed and one hand up by his mouth. Clayton’s eyes never left the screen.

“This guy must be a genius. I’ve had to hack through six firewalls but I was able to obtain an address.”

Chris grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled down the address. Clayton took the paper and left. He called for backup to the address listed while he grabbed his gear.

The dangerous red, the serene white, the ocean blue lights, and the eardrum damaging sirens whizzed up and down the streets until they stopped at 284 Halcren Dr. All the officers whipped open their car doors and pulled out their guns pointing them directly at the house as they inched closer. Officer Clayton was leading and motioned for a few officers to spread out across the yard while a few went to the sides and back of the house to have every exit covered. Clayton pounded on the door.

“Police! Open up!”

Nothing.

Officer Clayton stepped back and kicked open the door. He slowly walked in and spanned the entire living room with more officers following suit. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw a scarf slung over the arm of a navy wingback chair and whipped his head up when he heard a subtle clinking noise coming from somewhere in the house. Next he stepped foot in the hallway and began walking towards the kitchen while the other officers checked upstairs. It was officer Jensen that remained with officer Clayton looking around the first floor. Jensen put a hand on Clayton’s shoulder stopping him right there.

“Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“A clinking sound. Like metal.”

They stood silent for a second until they heard it sound off again.

“I think it’s coming from the basement.”

Clayton opened the door directly in front of them very slowly and flipped the light switch. Clayton stood behind the door while Jensen stood off to the side, each ever so slightly peering down the stairs to make sure it was clear. It was, so they continued on down. They each took a side and met up at the back of the stairs. The clinking was tremendously louder now but they didn’t see anything or anyone down there. Clayton looked more closely as he took another lap around the cold cement basement. He saw a slight crack in the wall behind a garden hose reel and a few gardening tools.

“Hey look at this. Help me move these.”

“What is this?”

“Looks like a trap door. There are small flat hinges that are painted to blend in with the wall.”

“Let’s open it.”

Clayton grabbed one of the gardening tools so he could slip it into the tiny crack between the door and the wall since there wasn’t a handle for obvious reasons. He pushed the tool handle towards the wall so it would hopefully pop the door open. It did. Inside was a tunnel with an extremely dim light at the end of it revealing a small room and a vent covering the other side of the tunnel.

“Hello?” Officer Clayton shouted.

“Officer Clayton! Help me! Please!” Lisa said as her face appeared through the vent cover which was illuminated by Clayton’s flashlight.

“Lisa! I’m gonna get you out!”

“Please! Get me away from him!”

“Is he in there with you?”

“Yes! I was able to knock him out with this pipe! He came in here with it and said he was gonna kill me!”

Clayton held his flashlight in one hand and his gun in the other as he crawled through the tunnel. When he reached the vent cover he tried pushing it open but that didn’t work. He tried it a couple more times without success so he finally set his flashlight down and punched the vent cover as hard as he could and managed to break it right off the wall. Officer Clayton crawled into the room and saw John lying down on the floor, unconscious. From all the trauma she had endured, Lisa at this point was crying hysterically and cowering behind officer Clayton yet unable to look away from John to make sure he stayed down. A few seconds went by as officer Clayton was talking to Lisa when a look of terror flooded her face and a scream so loud it could break glass erupted from her mouth. Clayton turned around and saw John sitting up, staring at them, smirking.

“You found me. Guess I’m it now.” John said laughing.

John abruptly stopped laughing and his face went straight as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife. He lunged for officer Clayton with a little success but was at a slight disadvantage from the floor.

“God Dammit!” Clayton Shouted.

Officer Clayton kicked the knife out of John’s hand and knee’d him right in the face knocking him out once more. Clayton moved Lisa towards the tunnel and hurried her through while he stayed behind to cuff John. After he removed the knife from the room, he went back through the tunnel and gave it to Jensen as evidence, then went to check on Lisa. He walked up the basement steps as several officers were rushing down, turning sideways against the rail to let them pass. Officer Clayton walked through the house holding his right black and blue swollen hand against his stomach and his other hand holding his left thigh which was spitting out blood from the cut made by the knife, which was extremely sharp by the way. Did you know that knives were sharp? Who knew. The front door to the house was wide open as people were rushing in and out. Clayton went straight outside and looked around until he spotted Lisa sitting in the back of an ambulance talking to a paramedic as she made sure Lisa was alright.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. I’m just shaken up and I want to leave. Oh my god you’re bleeding!”

The paramedic turned to Clayton and made him sit in the ambulance too so she could stop the bleeding.

The two of them were taken to St. Clements Hospital to be treated for minor injuries as Clayton’s cut wasn’t too deep so he didn’t need surgery. When they arrived at the hospital and the ambulance doors opened, there were two nurses with wheelchairs waiting to take them inside. They were both admitted and placed in separate rooms to be monitored overnight. Lisa got settled in and hooked up to machines, lying in her hospital bed trying to calm herself down from the events that transpired that night. Officer Clayton got stitches and a cast and sling for his hand, then got settled into his room. Lisa turned on the tiny tv in her room and was looking for something to watch, but couldn’t comprehend how anyone could see what the guide said since it was so small, she could barely read it; especially if they’re hopped up on pain pills, then it would be nearly impossible.

“And here at St. Clements Hospital they offer a lovely game of tv roulette. You never know what show you’re gonna get.” Lisa whispered to herself in a sarcastic and her best infomercial voice.

Next thing she sees is officer Clayton being wheeled into her room smiling. He’s holding coffee. The nurse stops him next to her bed and leaves the room.

“This is for you. How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay. I will be okay. I’m just glad you guys caught him. Now I can be at peace that he won’t hurt anyone else and Callie can rest in peace. I really miss her. You know, there was this one time in college, it was our junior year spring break and everyone was gone, except for us. We rented movies, ate a ton of junk food, tried staying up for as long as we could to see who could stay up longer. She won. She never let me hear the end of it. Everytime she beat me at something she would bring it up and we would both laugh because it was so stupid. We were stupid but we were always together, we were best friends. Now she’s gone. I’ll never hear her tell me she can stay up longer again. I know that probably sounds really dumb.” Lisa said with a few tears sliding down her cheek.

“No it doesn’t. It’s sweet. You lost a friend. It’s not dumb, and I’m here for you.”

Clayton locks his wheelchair and pushes off of the left arm so he could stand up.

“What are you doing? Sit down! Does it hurt to stand?” She says laughing.

“No because I can’t kiss you if I’m sitting.”

Officer Clayton stayed with Lisa the rest of the night. A nurse wheeled in another bed and stopped it next to Lisa’s. About two hours later officer Jensen came into the hospital room and told them that John was taken to Risen Insane Asylum which was a heavily secured mental hospital that was even farther away than Pelton. There was no way John was getting out of there. Judge Bucsh sentenced John Shrichter to the death penalty. He’s to wait out his time at Risen until then.

“Good. Thanks Jensen. See ya buddy.”

“Feel better dude. You too Lisa, I hope you feel better soon.” Jensen said as he smirked looking back and forth between the two then left the room.

Lisa and Clayton looked at each other and laughed as Clayton reached his hand over his bed railing to hold hers. Together they laid there taking turns switching between channels playing tv roulette all night. Lisa managed to stay up longer than Clayton before falling asleep herself. Was it the pain meds kicking in? Or was it just exhaustion? Eh, maybe a little bit of both. When she woke up the following morning Clayton was already up and watching the Golden Girls but somehow had it in Spanish. She turned over and looked at him and he smiled at her.

“Good morning! How are you?”

“I’m good. How are you?”

“In pain but I can’t complain. I’m happy.”

“Hey, guess what?”

“What?”

“I stayed up longer than you.”

Clayton busts out laughing.

“That’s perfectly fine. I hope I never hear the end of it.”

When it was finally the day for John to be executed, a nurse went up to his room, which was guarded by two very large and muscular security guards, and opened the door so she could wheel his bed down to the room with the electric chair, John’s choice of execution. His hands and feet were cuffed to the bed so he could do no harm like he did at Pelton, which left the nurses and doctors feeling an immense amount of added security. He was talking to himself and nodding his head, saying, “Are you proud of me? The job is done.” As he was pushed down the hall to his final destination, he was actually singing. Why you may ask? Who the hell knows. This man is a dangerous schizophrenic work of hell. For some reason, the song he was singing was confusing the nurses in the hall as he passed them. What song was it that was so puzzling?

“Thank you for being a friend. Traveled down the road and back again…. “ John continued but you get the idea.

John’s bed was stopped next to the chair and the security guards in the room unlocked the cuffs from his feet so he could stand up and walk a foot away to sit down, but left his hands cuffed together. As the executioners got everything ready, John was still singing the Golden Girls theme song and laughing until the proctor flipped the lever and the electricity coursed through his entire body. John jumped and shook intensely for two minutes until they flipped the lever back off and made sure John was no longer alive. No heartbeat. Not breathing. Time of death, 11:42.