From “Where Old Acquaintances Be Forgot”–a New Year’s Eve in Bryce Mental Hospital (Tuscaloosa, AL) short story

With his ears ringing and his pulse pounding, Mike ran at a pace which would make the running backs a few miles away over at the University of Alabama jealous. He had no clue we could move this fast. If Nick Saban could see me now I’d get that scholarship I always wanted.

His little joke wasn’t helping with his anxiety. He was feeling every nerve in his body scream at him to get out, to just get the fuck out but there was no exit in sight. A thousand thoughts ran through his mind as he entered a giant room full of machinery that he didn’t recognize. Oh fuck me running! Is this the boiler room?! Yea, Mike, let’s run into the boiler room! It’s not like there’s ever been a horror movie set in a boiler room or anything! Oh shit! What is this place’s address? This isn’t on Elm Street is it?!

He didn’t have long to ponder the question before the soft echo of sobbing caught his attention. The sound of it made his skin crawl. Oh fuck! What is that?!

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