The Asylum

     We had been called here, by a citizen.  He reported seeing lights, here.  This tall structure had been closed for years.  It was an asylum, before that the ghallows were in front the building. Thunder lashed our ears, lightning lit the sky.  A storm was a brewing, it had been brewing for days.  

    The full moon was, up. But we did not see it. The lightning crashed and roared. We saw a body hanging by its neck, it was 3.15.  From the hangs man's noose.  This was not possible. How could there be a body here. 

    The place had walls about it, forty stories high, with bobbed wire at the top. The gate was closed when we arrived here.  The ghallows were closed for 100 years. There was no longer the portion for a hangsman to secure his rope.  The wooden structure was no longer there.

   The body with a noose about its neck was hanging its head covered in a burlap bag. The wooden structure we knew as gone long ago.  Yet it was here.

As I approached the structure, my partner looked at the building and saw lights in the third story window.  She drew my attention to it.  My hands fell upon the wood, it splintered and burst beneath my hands.  I cautiously walked up the stairs to arrive at where the body was hanging.

     The wood felt as if it was not as solid as ut should be, Pieces were recuded to wood chips and dust. I was afraid, I was going to fall through the floor.  The noose was just that, a noose. It was made by a hang man.  

     I touched the rope, felt the body's weight dangling from the rope, it smelled as though he had just soiled himself.  that was what a body would do. I drew the body to face me. The burlap bag was a coarse fabric. It cut my hands as did the rope that held it there.  

A lightning bolt burst as I drew off the bag. To see John BUrgess's face in the hanged man's noose. His eyes hung by threads to his skull.  His tongue protruded from his mouth.

Tom Burgess died by hanging at the last public hanging. It happened at 3:15 in the morning, I was looking at him.

My partner walked towards the building, there should have been no lights here as there was no power here for the lights. He walked inside, he looked noisely about, He saw small animals scurry and run from him. However that would not deter him, he was of Irish stock, He was always telling us,that he was afraid of nothing.

The walls were covered in spider's webs, they were as thick as cotton. The threads were like silk, he got covered in them. Drawing his flashlight around to see, what he could see.   Seeing what was gas lanterns protruding from the walls at twenty feet off the floor.  He had tried the light switch, but they did not come on.  This he would have to rely on his flash light.

Through the dark chasm that he walked  down.  The walls were covered in torn wall paper that clung to them like wet nylons would stick to a woman's leg in a rain storm and the graffitti and the marks that told you, whose truff you are on,

The floor was covered in rodent droppings, and insects were here in a multitude.  The floor was covered in linoneluim.  The wall way was large enough for three gurneys to roll in side by side.

He arrived at the stair case, he screamed,"Put your hands on up.  Stay where you are."

The banister was dry as kindling, his flash light played across the floor, to see only dust, insect run from him as though he was the plague and mouse droppings.  

Having gotten to third floor, he headed towards the room, where he saw the lights  had come from. There should have been light under its bottom of the door, but there was none. He eased the door open, but found it was locked, and there were no foot prints to this door.

There was no way whoever was here, had come out of or to that room.  He pressed his shoulders to open the door. The door opened.

As soon as the door was open, he looked around the room to see a person in a white blood covered apron, holding a scaple in his hands  he looks up to see who has opened the door. There is a body on a bed, that he is operating on.  Seeing bottles of whisky beside the body on the bed. Blood is pouring and running from his patients body.

A lightning bolt burst.

We woke up in our squad car.  Driving to the asylum

The End

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