The key ring, attached to the nun's belt with a chain, clinked while she strode quickly ahead of the two seekers. The black fabric of her ankle-length habit, the religious robe she wore like all the sisters of St. Hilda's Hospital, swung around her feet with every step, occasionally revealing the tips of her black, obviously worn shoes. "And this is the entrance to our hospital's mental ward." The aforementioned door opened with a metallic groaning of the hinges as if to ensure everyone knew when someone entered or left this part of the hospital.

The mental hospital corridors were painted entirely white, and the windows were large enough to let in plenty of light. Everything was arranged to give a bright, friendly impression. Some room doors were open, allowing a view into the spartanly furnished rooms. There was only a bed, a small side table, and perhaps a shelf. Some walls were decorated with a few self-painted pictures, while others were plain, sterile, and empty.

"Do you have many patients here in the sanatorium?" Dr. Archer asked, expertly letting his gaze wander in all directions.

Sister Enid shook her head slightly. "Our institution is comparatively small, and thankfully, most of the rooms are empty. This also allows us to divide up our patients and treat them according to their personal needs," said the young woman, whose mere presence made the hairs on the back of Kaylee's neck bristle.

The presence of priests, nuns, or clergy generally grated on her nerves like fingernails on a blackboard. Clergy and a doctor? It was a terrible combination. Such people could help and look down disapprovingly on their patients simultaneously.

In most areas, medically trained staff had replaced the sisters of all sorts of orders, as had been the custom in the past. But she could have expected to find clergymen here in this hospital with this name, which was located near an old monastery. Inwardly, she shook her head at herself. She might have let Dr. Archer do this alone if she hadn't been so curious and far too suspicious.

The nuns on duty at the hospital talked to the patients in a calm tone of voice. Others led or accompanied the mentally disturbed on a short walk through the halls, as the weather was too bad to go outside.

Meanwhile, Nurse Enid led the two guests to a staircase that ended in a small anteroom. Next to a barred window overlooking the front courtyard of the hospital, a young attendant in a leather apron sat on a wooden stool in front of a heavy, obviously closed door. He lifted his eyes from his newspaper, which he studied extensively, when he heard footsteps approaching. His brown hair was cropped short - presumably so that none of the inmates could grab him in a fit of panic or aggression.

"Nurse Enid." The guard, probably no older than his early twenties, jumped up from his chair as they approached. His eyes fell on the visitors, and he immediately became more alert.

"Good afternoon, Jonathan. This here is Dr. Thurgood and his assistant, Mr. Eltingham," the nurse introduced the guests, pointing first to Benjamin and then to Kaylee and smiling in a friendly manner. "Dr. Thurgood is here to prepare a report for teaching purposes on Miss Clarence's case for St. Bartes Hospital in London."
Dr. Archer's heart beat nervously faster at these words, and his smile was perhaps a little wry. His story was plausible and, given his medical knowledge, hard to refute. Nevertheless, he hated lying and never felt comfortable with it.

Kaylee was no better. Usually, they had no problem assuming other people's identities. However, if they were discovered, it would be much harder to escape from this building complex. The doctor's lie was risky, and so far, the young woman could count herself lucky that Dr. Archer, her supposed superior, had answered the medical questions. If there was one thing Kyle had no knowledge of or interest in, it was medicine.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen." The young attendant, Jonathan, didn't look entirely convinced. His gaze lingered a few moments longer on the supposed assistant, Mr. Eltingam, and then it settled on Dr. Thurgood. "So, Gentlemen from London? Here in our little hospital?"

Kaylee's muscles immediately tensed. Had she just broken out in a sweat? What other spells would she have had if this all went wrong? Would these people be open to bribery?

"Miss Clarence's case sounded very interesting," Dr. Archer explained calmly and dryly - and didn't seem willing to explain himself any further. A typical and fitting demeanor for doctors who were used to looking down on nurses and ordering them around.

Kaylee wanted to let out a sigh of relief when the nurse seemed to be satisfied with that. So far, no one has asked for proof of their identities. Whether it was because this hospital was so small and insignificant, or because Dr. Archer was compelling in selling himself according to his profession? In the end, it didn't matter.

Instead, they watched as Jonathan opened a large lock to give them access to the restricted area of the institution. There, the bright, whitewashed idyll of the hospital ended and gave way to a different, downright oppressive atmosphere. In this area, thumb-thick iron bars were in front of and behind every window, which would not have provided enough space for even the smallest bodies to squeeze through.

"This is to prevent patients from smashing the windows and using broken glass as weapons," explained Nurse Enid, who noticed Kaylee's disgruntled look at the windows.

"Do the patients often resort to such methods?" Kaylee asked, and Nurse Enid smiled good-naturedly.
"We're only a small clinic here. We only have a few really dangerous patients, and most are more dangerous to themselves than others."
Those explanations didn't make it any better for Kaylee. She wasn't really in the mood to, at worst, wrestle with a manic patient. Besides, this place alone was enough to make her stomach queasy.

The nurse sighed pitifully and continued undisturbed: "The devil twists the minds of these pitiful creatures; their demons haunt some until they sleep. They are all confused beings and don't know what they are doing. I pray for their salvation and deliverance every day."

"And your prayers will surely save them." This time, Kaylee couldn't stop herself from making the snarky comment. Ironically, she was now praying that the usual sarcastic undertone hadn't been heard in her voice. In any case, she received a puzzled look from the nurse and a sharp, condemning one from Benjamin Archer.

Their eyes crossed for a moment.
"We hope the best for your patients," Dr. Archer said quickly to cover up his partner's misstep.

Even though Kaylle knew that her comment could get her into hot water, she stood behind what she had thoughtlessly said. Neither God nor one of his angels would come along on a white horse or with a fiery sword to help these people. Everyone was on their own and had to fight the battles independently. The Seekers - and Kaylee, in particular - knew this better than anyone else.

Despite Dr. Archer's attempt at mediation, an uncomfortable silence fell over the small group as they walked down the corridor. Other sounds reached their ears clearly: Soft whimpers and murmurs could be heard from the rooms that opened to their right and left. A nurse with a serious expression on his face pushed a wheelchair with a woman in it past them. The woman was dressed in a leather strappy jacket and constantly swayed her body back and forth while babbling gibberish to herself.

Door after door passed, most of them locked, but one was ajar. Kaylee couldn't help but take a quick peek inside. She couldn't see much but could hear a strange, almost desperate gasp. Carefully, she took another step back.

"They're coming!"

A man suddenly shot out from behind the door like an arrow and grabbed her roughly by the collar. The poor lunatic's eyes widened in panic, his face pale and frightened into a grimace.
"What the...!" Kaylee's heart gave a stumbling leap, and immediately, her right hand gripped the silver handle of her walking stick while her other shot forward to push the man off her.
A scuffle broke out.

Dr. Archer immediately grabbed the man. An attendant from the corridor also rushed over, and the nun let out a startled shriek.

"Mr. Hadley! Let go!"

Kaylee instinctively stumbled backward to get some distance from the attacker. However, the man with messy gray hair and a prominent hooked nose followed at her heels, refusing to loosen his grip. Kaylee could hear the seams of her fine coat groan under the man's long, skinny fingers as he tugged at her like he was out of his mind.

"Hands off!" Kaylee hissed angrily and tried to loosen the madman's cramped fingers by hitting his arms with her walking stick.

But the maniac neither relented nor let go of her. Instead, he dragged Kaylee closer to his horribly contorted face until the tips of their noses almost touched. A disgusting mixture of sweat and foul breath reached Kaylee's nostrils and nearly made her vomit. The maniac's brown eyes were wide open, the pupils dilated, and his eyeballs bulged out of their sockets as if they were about to pop out.

"They're coming! They are coming! Their whispering, their singing! Can't you hear it? They've tasted blood! Flee, run! Before the sun goes down!" he screeched, and his voice echoed through the corridor. "Food for the worms! Food for the worms!"

Strong fingers finally released his grip on Kaylee's lapel, pulling the man away. Once again brilliant in his role as protector, Dr. Archer immediately stepped in front of Kaylee, almost like a brick wall that had appeared out of nowhere. It still took two more nurses rushing over to get the man under control, who now, seemingly in complete delirium, burst into hysterical laughter.

Kaylee stood there gasping, unable to believe what had just happened. Her eyes only glanced briefly into the room and caught sight of the insane chaos behind it. The floor, even the walls, were lined with countless pages written with distorted words and jumbled scribbles that looked like a toddler had tried to put something on paper without knowing what he was doing. Everywhere, on these crazy notes, a large cross had been drawn manic.

Meanwhile, the attendants dragged the man to the bed, onto which they pushed him down roughly and secured him with leather straps. Kaylee saw a hypodermic needle blink and shortly afterward sink into soft flesh. The laughter and screams, a gruesome and bizarre mixture, echoed throughout the hallway like the warning rumble of the thunderstorm outside the windows.

"They're coming! They're coming! You're all going to die! All of you! All dead, all dead, all dead! Hahaha! The walls soaked in bloody red! All dead, all dead, all red!"

¹ Habit - The Latin word habit means posture and form, but also clothing. The habit is also called the habit of the order, the robe (for Franciscans), or the habit of the order.