"Could they make this place any creepier?"

Nicholas pulled into the parking space at Fithian Memorial at three minutes after nine. There were smatterings of cars and hospital vehicles parked in small clusters, but other than he and Clara, the entire visible area was devoid of activity.

"I can't imagine how," Clara said, pulling the strap from Aunt Maureen's bag over her shoulder.

"I mean, it's totally deserted," said Nicholas. "Visiting hours just ended a few minutes ago – you'd think we'd at least see some people leaving."

Clara opened the car door and stepped out. "True – but I've probably got a better chance of getting in since it's so empty."

Nicholas looked at her as she stepped into the dim glow of the parking lot lighting. A few roaming fireflies were the only other light source in the area.

"Hey – you sure you don't want me to come in with you?" he said.

"No, I'm good," Clara said, taking a long look at the old hospital. "I'm sure she'll be asleep by now. Hopefully I can get to her room and just drop this off." She tapped the bag. "I'll try to be fast."

She walked off toward the hospital's main entrance. The sunlight earlier had made its weathered facade look elegant in a shabby way – but now it looked like an abandoned mental asylum. Nicholas had really called it. It was truly creepy.

Clara reached the front door and pulled the handle. It was locked. Through the next set of doors she could see the nurse's station she'd passed earlier, which now stood unmanned. No staff roamed the dark hallways either. Weren't hospitals supposed to be filled with nurses sticking needles in patients throughout the night? But Clara did see something that gave her hope – on the opposite side of a glass walkway stood a door leading to a central courtyard. And it had been propped open with a bulky ashtray.

Clara stalked her way around the building's exterior to the courtyard. "The place must have the most open beds of any hospital," Clara thought as she looked inside the dark rooms. "And the strictest visitor's policy." She reached the propped-open door and stepped inside.

Clara looked around – first left, then right. Nothing. Then a nurse crossed the hallway, far enough down where there was no chance he'd have noticed Clara. She turned right and headed toward Aunt Maureen's room, feeling relieved that there was at least one person on duty in this place.

She passed a room and saw a nurse drawing blood from a sleeping man. Clara wouldn't have even known that anything was going on if she hadn't been looking so carefully – the nurse was practically silent. She continued walking with her head down and rounded the corner to Aunt Maureen's wing.

Clara kept moving. She could see a couple more patients in beds, but those rooms were in the minority. Breach Point must not have many sick people. She hoped Aunt Maureen would be leaving behind an empty bed soon enough.

She approached Aunt Maureen's room, reaching for the strap to pull the bag from her shoulder. When she finally looked up, what she saw in the room froze her in place.

Inside the room lay Aunt Maureen – still unconscious.

Surrounding Aunt Maureen – two on one side of her bed and the third on the other – stood figures in dark hooded outfits. Clara couldn't see any of their faces. They didn't speak. The only sound was the breeze blowing in through the open window behind them.

Clara tried to move but her limbs wouldn't cooperate. She watched as the short figure closest to Aunt Maureen leaned forward. Slowly, he caressed her hands – and began glowing. The orange light started in his chest, pushing through his clothes. It flowed down his arms, working its way through his hands and into Aunt Maureen. Her body seemed to raise up under the sheet – but her eyes remained closed.

Breach Point (Haunted)Read this story for FREE!