Make a wish when a Blackbird flies

He wondered through the halls looking for his room. He had to get back there, he had some things he had to retrieve that he had purposely chosen to forget when he first ran out. There were a lot more people walking around now, patients and nurses, he supposed it must have been after dinner since everyone was being escorted back to their rooms.

Though there were more people around, he found it easy to avoid being seen, much easier than when the halls where empty; because this time he had a guide. Throughout the years all the ghosts had been left, unseen, to wonder around the halls and tunnels; in all that time one would be able to memorize the route of the whole place, thus being able to lead Frank where he needed to be.

He had to take the long way to avoid being seen by anyone, but soon he was walking through his door, which had been left open. There was nobody in there but a large, smeared stain of blood, obviously from when he mutilated that doctor. He walked over to the bed and lifted the greasy pillow.

Underneath it was a pillow case that was surprisingly clean, he had managed to steal it from the laundry room on the way back from one of his rare shower visits – it got to the point where even the worst of them couldn't stand his smell.

Inside it he had stuffed the few possessions he had acquired throughout his stay at the hospital; the small nail file he stole to free his arms from the straight jacket, the rose he had found himself holding that dreary day, and something else, something much heavier.

He grabbed these things and ran back out being careful to look around him while following his invisible helpers. Everyone would think he was still in the laboratory getting operated, so it was safe to assume that no one would be looking for him.

”This way.” Said someone from around the corner, then, once Frank turned, disappeared.
”Keep going.” Said another further up, and Frank followed. It went on like this, following the quickest, safest route to get out; unfortunately Frank had already predicted what happened next.

He was so close, a few more turns and he would be out, but when he turned the next corner he ran into someone he never wanted to see again. Mackenzie. They both froze facing each other; the doctor surveyed the boy in front of him, covered in blood on his face and torn clothes; except he was no longer a boy, too much had happened and too much time had passed.

“Frank, what have you done?” He asked in a low voice. Frank stood in silence, his hands behind his back, hiding what he had taken with him. “We can make you better, Frank; you just have to let us. Come back with me, I'll give you something to relax.” He said coming closer.

It was in this moment that Frank pulled his hands away from behind his back and pointed a gun at Mackenzie. The man froze in his steps, his face a perfectly hilarious mix of surprise and horror.
“Where did you get that?” He asked.

“She forgave you, you know.” Frank said, his hand shaking with fear and the weight of the weapon. “Your sister, she forgave you for what you did to her. But she doesn't forgive you for what you did to me. And neither do I.” He said the last part with gritted teeth. Then he pulled the trigger.

It went easily, there was a loud bang that echoed through the whole building, then Mackenzie was on the ground, a large bleeding hole in the centre of his chest. Frank dropped the gun back in his pillowcase and started walking again; just as he was about to pass the body the doctor let out a breath of air. He was still alive, if anyone found him he would tell, and then he would never get out.

Thinking quickly he grabbed the doctor's coat by the shoulders and started dragging him, with difficulty, towards the first door he could find. Coincidentally it was a broom closet and Frank propped him up against the wall furthest from the door.

“You're going straight to hell.” Said Mackenzie, so quietly that Frank barely heard him.
“You'll get there first,” He said kneeling by his side. “But don't worry about that. Your sister will be there waiting for you.” He continued, then paused, looked at the ground then back at the doctor.

“You knew, about everything that was happening to me. And you let it happen. I just want to know why.” Frank asked. The doctor had been staring at him while he spoke, but right at the end he had stopped breathing. So Frank never got his answers. He searched the doctor's pockets and pulled out a wallet, then stood back up and exited the broom closet, closing the door behind him.

He looked around at the faces of the people that, like him, would never get the answers for everything that had happened to them; he didn't pity the dead though, he envied them. But he had more important things to concentrate on now, so once again he walked on in the direction he had been going, following the people who were leading him to freedom.

Sooner then he thought he found the stairs and practically ran down them two at a time. He got to the bottom and found himself in the main entrance, just like the first day he had been brought here. There was the reception desk, where a nurse would usually sit, waiting to check in more patients.

And there were all the seats that would be filled with non existent visitors; and there was the door, the penultimate obstacle towards him and his freedom. He was so happy that he had finally found it that he ran to it, thinking he could just walk through and leave his nightmares behind.

Unfortunately when he turned the handle and pushed, he smacked right into the wood. He tried pushing again but it wouldn't budge. Then he tried pulling, because maybe it opened the other way; but again nothing.
“NO, come on. Please.” Frank begged, shaking the door on its frame and crying.

He stopped and leaned against it and just cried. He was so close, he couldn't believe that after everything that had happened to him, he was going to be stopped by a simple door. Thinking quickly he moved again – more like jumped – behind the desk and started rifling through its drawers, thinking that they must keep the keys close, just in case. He couldn't find anything.

[i]”They're coming.”[/i] Someone said and Frank froze, listening; sure enough he could hear voices, footsteps, probably alerted by that gunshot. He hid underneath the desk, trembling, he was sure they were going to find him and this time they would make sure he wouldn't be able to leave his bed.

From where he was crouched down he could clearly see the staircase, and therefore anyone who would come down them. But then he saw something else, a second staircase, going down. Those must lead to the underground tunnels he had read about, tunnels that lead to the other buildings. He was sure he could find a way out from there, so he shot out from his hiding spot and down those stairs.

After going through a – miraculously unlocked – door he found himself in complete darkness. He had no problem with darkness, he wasn't scared of it, there was very little that could scare him now; so he ran on, in the dark tunnel, completely blind; even if there were ghosts around he wouldn't be able to see them, but for some reason they didn't like coming down here.

So for now he was alone. It was a few minutes of running until he came up to a wall, more like ran into it face first. He walked along it, keeping his hand on it and soon felt a small indentation, like that of a closed door, but it was tiny, about half his size. He managed to get it open and crawled inside closing it again behind him.

He sat in there a few moments, just to catch his breath; for now he was sure he'd be safe. The air inside smelled and tasted kind of smoky, or like ashes; as he looked around he slowly became aware of the shape of what looked to be a body beside him, and upon realizing there was a completely decomposed corpse beside him he started screaming.

When he finally calmed down he looked at it properly, the body couldn't be any bigger than that of a child, and that's when he realized who it could be.
“Beatrice?” He whispered. So that's where she had gotten herself into. “I found you.” He said smiling sadly.

He saw something else then, on Beatrice's other side; it was a metal grate, like what you would find on an air vent, the air was coming in through there. He shuffled towards it and looked through the gaps; there was another room on the other side, he couldn't make out what it was for, but he could probably find another door to lead him out.

Leaning on the grate he found that it was quite loose, so he started applying pressure, pushing and kicking until it gave and he fell, landing on his face. He got up with a groan and found that that smoky, ashy smell was more powerful, and looking around he saw why.

The room had a very large hole in the opposite wall, it extended from the floor to well above Frank's head; it was closed off by an equally large metal door that had been left ajar. Looking inside was a mound of coals and half burnt wood, and right on top was a long long tunnel, that from the outside was probably seen as a chimney, and any smoke that escaped the heavy door would travel to the air vent, in which a little girl had hid one day.

The whole thing was a large oven, the room was a furnace. He looked back into the coals and with horror he could see here and there fragments of bone sticking out, human bone. They were burning people in here! All the patients that would for some reason die, their bodies would be taken down here to be disposed of completely. To be forgotten.

That could have happened to him, tonight even, if they had caught him. A white paper stuck out from the black of the coals, distracting him momentarily from his macabre thoughts. He pulled it out, it was a photo, all crumpled up and torn in half; someone obviously wanted to destroy it, perhaps it belonged to one of the poor souls who had been consumed by this fiery inferno.

He uncrumpled the paper and it took him a while to recognize who was in it, but when he did he almost cried again. In the picture was himself, smiling like he didn't have a care in the world. I he looked at himself now, he wouldn't recognize the similarities at all. He had a life before coming here, a family. Where did that all go?

They had burned all his stuff it seemed, so they obviously weren't planning on releasing him any time soon, if at all. That's why he needed to get out, if they found him now, when he was unknowingly just steps away from his freedom, everyone elses death would really be for nothing. If he succeeded in getting away he would be giving their after life a purpose.

So he dropped the crumpled photograph in his pillowcase, he searched the room and in no time he found a set of high stone stairs going up towards a door. He stumbled up them, tripping a few times and almost breaking his teeth, only to find out that this door was also locked.
“NO!” Frank wailed and started slamming his hands against it, crying.

He was getting nowhere with this attitude so he forced himself to calm down and breath in deeply, but still silently crying.
“Please.” He whispered. “Please, just one more. Please.” He begged. And it worked; there was a loud metallic click and the door swung open and Frank threw himself out, praying to anyone that there wouldn't be a doctor or nurse waiting on the other side.

What he go instead was rain. Cold, refreshing rain falling down on his face. He hadn't felt rain on his skin in forever and he couldn't help but stop and lift his head to the sky, his eyes closed, welcoming the storm. And the air, he had never breathed in anything so sweet in his life; but as he thought this he knew it was a lie.

Once he decided that rain was his new favourite thing in the world, he looked around at where he was. A vast amount of woodland stood before him. He took a few steps forward then turned around. Behind him he saw the back wall of Septon hospital, and a few dozen dark figures standing before it. He was out, he couldn't believe it.

He looked at the dark figures, each one a trapped soul, each one had helped him in some way to escape.
“Thank you.” He said to them. “I will always remember this. I'll always remember you.” And he would.

With those last words he turned on his heel again and ran, ran as fast as he could, away from Septon hospital and towards wherever his freedom took him.

Notes

Here we go with the second part. I hope you like it, I had to write through a migraine.
As always please comment, I love reading what you think.

I hope you all had a happy Easter by the way.