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

With no time to mend to his wounds, he leaped to his feet and was running down the corridor at full speed. Every shadow seemed to hide a face. Every noise had a sinister tint about it.

Stopping at the end of the hall to catch his breath, he tried to get his bearings. Looking left and right, he tried to find something familiar without any luck. He faced the fact that he was completely lost. God damn it! Why does everything in this place have to look the fucking same! Okay, Mikey, think… think. You’re on the second floor so you need to go down. We need a staircase… a staircase. My fucking kingdom for a staircase!

So left or right? Satanists are supposed to walk the left-handed path so let’s try right.  Yea, right sounds good.  Turning to his right, his flashlight illuminated what looked like a curly haired female in a hospital gown. As the girl started staggering towards him and moaning, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Oh fuck, left it is!

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