“No don’t go to the Mercy Hospital it’s unsafe, ” said my uncle Robert, but Armando, Diego, and I still decided to go. We had heard many stories about the hospital that it was haunted and that sometimes you could hear noises like chains moving around. While we were on our way over to the hospital we had bloodcurdling, as soon as we got there, we were terrified, but we wanted to explore the hospital. We enter thru a window that was open, at first we didn’t hear anything or see anything Armando said “there is nothing here all the stories are fake” a couple of minutes later we heard a loud ghastly noise. It sounded like the noise was getting closer, then the light started to flicker it was horrifying. Armando still didn’t believe that the
So, in the 30s and 40s they used to send tuberculosis patients to the [Glenn Dale] hospital for treatment. [normal relaxed tone] Eventually it was converted into an insane asylum and it became notorious for its treatment of patients. The staff experimented on the patients and locked them up all day. One day, all the patients revolted and the doctors ran out of the hospital and boarded up all the doors and windows. [talking faster] The patients were left inside to die and the hospital was abandoned. The insane still wander the halls. Today, if you sneak in the hospital you will be chased by the ghosts of the patients and catch tuberculosis. My friend went there and swears he saw a ghost watching him from the shadows, and he won’t go near that place anymore [gestures with hand in horizontal motion]. The cops arrest anyone they catch trespassing, but they say the cops won’t go in the hospital after you if you need help.”
Vollmann’s story concentrates on the private experiences of individuals in a hospital. The commonality of the setting allows the reader to make necessary assumptions about the locale, timing and purpose of these hospital visits, also permitting the author flexibility in selecting events to comprise the plot. The universality of the hospital experience (lingering in the waiting room, a doctor’s examination, and a nurse’s questioning, for example) encourages the reader to relate to these private events in a shared, public manner. In this way, Vollmann relies upon one’s knowledge of hospital procedure to make greater comments about other institutions and society in general.
It was another tough case for Rafael. One he put his heart and soul into to win but lost because of an old photo that resurfaced of the victim in a similar situation. Defence claimed it was a pattern and that the victim was blackmailing a "hero cop". A ONE time photo clearly indicates a pattern. Right. How could the jury be so gullible? It was these cases that always got to him and now a rapist walks free and that “not guilty” verdict ran through his head. Goddammit. Rafael was fuming as he grabs a cup of coffee.
Come with me as I take you inside one of the most haunted locations in the United States today. It is a journey down dark hallways and into rooms painted by both shadow and light where spirits talk and phantoms walk. St. Albans Sanatorium is a destination known by serious paranormal investigators as a place where they can seek answers to the mysteries of what lies beyond death. Some of these investigators were able to find resolutions for themselves to a number of these age old riddles through their experiences at the sanatorium. The frightening and true stories found within the pages of this book are about these inquisitive investigators’ encounters with The Ghosts of St. Albans Sanatorium.
The teller began describing the legend of what she knows as “Hell House” in Old Ellicott City, Maryland. She told me that it was off of River Road and is currently abandoned and rundown. She had heard that it was a female institute or an asylum for crazy women. She gave me two important details about the history during the time that it was a “female institute.” According to legend, one of the girls staying there committed suicide by jumping off the top of the building. It is said that her ghost has haunted the grounds ever since. The other event during that time period was that—accord...
I heard a blood-curdling scream and I jumped. I felt silent tears running down my heavily scarred face, but they weren’t out of sadness. Mostly. They were a mixture of pain and fear. I ran into the eerie, blood-splattered room and screamed as I felt cold fingers grab my neck. Before that night, I didn’t believe in the paranormal. Now I sure as heck do. I had been chased out of my house after a fight with my step-parents because I wasn’t doing well in school (I had dyslexia), and I had taken shelter in what seemed like a normal house. I realized what I had gotten into after the sun set. The doors locked without a sign of anyone going near them. A cold draft filled the room I was in. The house turned into a horrific scene, and I knew I would never get out alive. It was the Asylum. There’s a rumor in our town, a rumor that started when someone made the observation that everyone fit in. No one was considered strange, homeless, an outsider. That doesn’t seem possible, you think. In my town, there are tons of people with no homes, or people that don’t belong, you think. Well, think again. Those homeless people? Think about how many there are. They fit in with each other. Those people that don’t belong? Once again, they fit in with each other. But then, you
"We have lost an outrageous number of Nurses and Drs., and the little town of Ayer is a sight. It takes Special trains to carry away the dead. For several days there were no coffins and the bodies piled up something fierce, we used to go down to the morgue (which is just back of my ward) and look at the boys laid out in long rows .
I went in to the front lounge and sat on the sofa, all of a sudden I was floating in this black void, I was in complete darkness but I could still see my arms and legs, I could here a voice calling, a cold eerie voice but I didn't understand it.
I can see a crack of light coming from under the bathroom door. I keep hearing a strange sound, almost like a hurt puppy. As I walk closer, I see a dark puddle on the floor. Suddenly, I am very afraid. I slowly open the door. “Mommy, Mommy, are you ok?” My mother looked at me and cried, “Dial 911, Darling! Hurry, Honey, Hurry!” There is so much blood—on the floor, on her clothes, and on her hands. I can hear the sirens now. Mommy goes for a ride in the ambulance. My three day old baby brother and I have to stay with the neighbor until Daddy comes and picks us up. What happened to my mother?
and I ask there if they haven’t receive any body hurt there with his descriptions. Days after I went back and he was there, a car hit him. Santiago looked so different; he had long hair, mustache, and beard. I knew it was him because I heard his voice taking to the nurse. When he saw me he ask me to search for Perla in the streets.
As we took our seats, we pulled down the lap bar and anxiously for the ride to start. The ride worker came around the ride to us and pulled up on our lap bar to make sure we would be safe, and then said he said a little creepily “Have a great ride!” We started laughing and then the ride started. We had our hands up and we were having a great time. As the ride was getting faster, Angie and I heard this strange noise coming from our cart and we started getting scared. As it got faster, the noise was getting louder and louder. I started to think what could happen to us and then I got scared. I started screaming really loud with a look of terror on my face. Angie started screaming and she looked scared, too. We both started laughing at each other's appearance. We were both scared and we were laughing so hard that tears were flowing from our faces.
I walked back into the service after circling the building several times. A man in a fitted black suit was about to lock the door as I asked him to let me get one last look before her funeral. As I walked in the darkness engulfed me. Now there was only one single light shining down on my mother and I. I stared down at her face and finally came to terms with the fact that my mom was dead. I tried to convince myself that maybe, just maybe, if I stared at her hard enough then she'll make some type of movement. Then I could prove that she wasn't dead, just asleep. "Please wake up...please." I said to myself
Running through the hospital’s long white halls, he thought that his mom was going to die. The paramedics were right in front of him, but it felt as if they were a mile away. Reaching his hand out, he began to holler: PLEASE STOP! PLEASE the words bristled from his mouth. He fell onto his knees, in front of him the white floor had droplets of blood that came out of his mother. Time passes, the boy lying on the floor, motionless, Just looking at the flickering light above. Footsteps approached, the boy remained motionless--not caring who it was. I’ve found the boy, over. Excellent nurse, bring him to O.R. #3. Gotcha.
It was a Monday night; I remember it like it was yesterday. I had just completed my review of Office Administration in preparation for my final exams. As part of my leisure time, I decided to watch my favorite reality television show, “I love New York,” when the telephone rang. I immediately felt my stomach dropped. The feeling was similar to watching a horror movie reaching its climax. The intensity was swirling in my stomach as if it were the home for the butterflies. My hands began to sweat and I got very nervous. I could not figure out for the life of me why these feelings came around. I lay there on the couch, confused and still, while the rings continued. My dearest mother decided to answer this eerie phone call. As she picked up, I sat straight up. I muted the television in hopes of hearing what the conversation. At approximately three minutes later, the telephone fell from my mother’s hands with her faced drowned in the waves of water coming from her eyes. She cried “Why?” My Grandmother had just died.
As I walked in to their bedroom, I found my mother sitting on the bed, weeping quietly, while my father lay on the bed in a near unconscious state. This sight shocked me, I had seen my father sick before, but by the reaction of my mother and the deathly look on my father’s face I knew that something was seriously wrong.