Chapter 3

" You're fucking nuts," Mary hissed, trying to grab my arm and stop me in my tracks. I danced away from her hand.

"You just realized that?" I asked with a laugh. Her concern was palatable—shining along with the moonlight in her eyes.

"What if they have big guards and those big guards have big guns," she said, looking to the others for help. I'd dragged a few work friends with me to go check out Verfallen. Mary was nervous but the other two were excited while telling her to calm down. They traded stories about Verfallen.

"Apparently everyone here is a serial killer," Thomas said in excitement.

"They say you can hear howling on full moons," Emma said with a wide smile. We all looked up at the sky and saw a round, white moon.

"Is it full?" Mary asked, attempting to sound excited instead of terrified. Before any of us could answer a noise came from behind the trees. It started low and slow so I couldn't be sure what it was until it reached its crescendo. Goosebumps popped up on the back of my neck as the howling continued. It didn't sound like a wolf, it sounded like a man—a maniac who was howling at the moon.

Mary, the scaredy-cat, remained silent.

"Fuckkk," Thomas said.

"Freaky," Sara commented. They looked at each other with big giddy smiles even though you could see fear shining behind the elation. We walked into the tree line, it was only five feet of bushes and trees but it was thick. Branches snagged my stockings, creating pale lines in the black fabric. When we spilled out the other side there was a moment of silence. It was one thing to see this place in pictures and an entirely different experience to have it looming in the dark right in front of you.

My hands slipped around the bars of the cast iron fence. Verfallen Asylum was old, with Victorian architectural flourishes, whatever that meant. It was gothic-looking to me. The place was huge and old and looked more like a museum than a hospital.

Not a hospital , I reminded myself. I'd been to a mental hospital and this definitely wasn't that. This was a prison with doors that always stayed locked. The people here didn't get rehabilitation plans and they didn't get weekend visits home. There were movies about this place, books, fucking franchises. It was a thing of mystery and terror.

The scent of the iron fence in my hands reminded me of blood. I took my hands off and looked up at the sharp spikes at the top. Was that really all we had to deal with? It seemed too easy. Shouldn't there be barbed wire? An electric fence? A swooping spotlight and barking German Shepherds?

We started to climb. Our words had dried up the moment we saw the place with our actual eyes. I don't know whether it was fear, awe, or some combination of the two but I didn't mind the silence. I was giddy with anticipation. Doctor Orson worked here. There had been one small article online talking about the new hire. Of course, that article didn't offer much else other than that. How could they when Doctor Orson was a mystery?

My arms and legs shook and my lungs burned as I scaled the fence. I wasn't sure I had the energy to do it but I was motivated. After a few minutes of gasping and sweating, I finally found myself on the other side with the others. We stood there, waiting for something to happen now that our feet were officially on Verfallen soil.

The howl came again, much louder than before. It seemed to grow from the ground and I eyed the bottom of the building, trying to see evidence of a basement. There were no windows though. Not for the basement and not for any other floor. No, that wasn't right. There were windows but they'd all been covered with thick sheets of metal. All the windows except for one. I stared at the light but saw no sign of movement.

"This feels like a trap," Mary commented, craning her neck like she could see around corners.

"It was almost too easy," Thomas agreed.

"I think the hard part is getting inside the building, not climbing the fence," I said.

"Shouldn't the hard part be getting back out?" Thomas asked. That made everyone go silent while we considered for the first time that maybe we wouldn't be able to get out after getting in.

"Come on," I groaned, stomping forward. "It's not like they'll lock us up here if we get caught."

"No, the howling man will just kill us," Mary grumbled. We spent the half hour wearing ourselves out by walking around the building. There was no obvious way in or out. I wasn't even sure if they used the front door anymore, it was boarded up with metal. We decided to split up and I was currently standing in front of a small metal door that had a flashing red light above it.

This had to be it but now that I'd found the door I realized how dumb this entire venture had been. How was I going to see Orson or find out anything about him here? I considered finding the others and telling them it was time to go.

This was weird, right? I kept telling myself I'd come here as an adventure, not because of the obsession with my therapist. The truth was I would have never come here if I didn't hope to learn something about Doctor Orson. While staring at this stupid impenetrable door I realized I was on a precipice. This single situation could be explained away by my interest in Orson getting the better of me, along with curiosity about the infamous Verfallen Asylum. I could brush this off and shut myself down from trying to find out more about Orson.

If I didn't brush it off and accepted this wasn't going away—that I didn't want it to, that I wanted to indulge in it… then I wouldn't stop trying to find things out about him. I wouldn't limit myself to the one-hour, weekly visits. I'd keep texting him, keep googling him, and keep showing up places where I thought he might be.

Thinking about giving him up made my stomach twist in knots. It felt wrong.

Guess I'm a stalker now. I blew out a breath and wondered if stalking was an official diagnosis in the DSM-5.

Just then I heard a beep on the other side of the door and some type of bolt moving inside it. Then it creaked as it began to open. I stood there watching with wide eyes as the man in question stood in front of me. If this wasn't fate, I didn't know what was.

Doctor Orson stilled in shock when he realized I was standing in front of him. I only just decided to stalk him and literally got caught thirty seconds later. I really wasn't made for a life of crime. I kept fucking it up gloriously.

His purple eyes swept left and right then he reached out, gripped my arm, and roughly tugged me into the building. The door slammed back shut and he glared at me. Looked like I Was finally going to hear his angry voice. I pressed my thighs together and tried not to look excited.