Hell’s Hospital

Sure, it hurt. It always did, but the louder you screamed the more blood they would take. If you let out even one tiny whisper, they would make it worth their while. Some say, if they take all your blood, they would use you as their own unemotional slaves to perfect torture methods and decide the most painful way to kill you. I always thought that was a myth until I watched someone get all their blood drained out.

They looked pale with popping red veins in their eyes, but those veins slowly mutated to white as they lost their sight. Their pupils lost their sight to see color and envision the world as it used to be. That day I knew to hold it inside until they threw me back into the pit I called home.

I know I may look like a bunch of guys pummeled me, but it's just what they do here, what they do to us, to weaken our skin.

The first time I arrived there I didn't know where I was. The only thing I knew was that before I got there I was walking on the street. I had just left the grocery store and had a bag on me. I bought a loaf of bread, some cheese, eggs, water, and a piece of chocolate for a snack.

I remembered that I was heading home and it was around nine-thirty at night. I lived about thirty minutes away and I didn't want to walk that far in the dark. There was a short-cut to get to my house faster than taking the normal way but it was through a long alleyway. It always smelt like garbage and alcohol.

Sometimes people were in the alleyways too. They were mostly doing drugs and playing with guns but they always came at different times of the day. It was a risk to go through the short-cut but it was a risk I was willing to take. The short-cut cut my walking time by more than a half, at least 10 minutes. I didn't have to walk all around the block and risk being run over because most of the people that drove here were drunks.

I went down the alleyway and the people who normally took drugs and played with guns were there. I decided to have my head looking at the ground and to not make eye contact with them. I did see three people there with a dumpster fire lit and I just wanted to get out of there alive. They were near the middle of the alley way and I was almost up to them. I wanted to walk fast but then I thought that would draw way too much attention to me.

I wanted to look up and see what they looked like. I didn't know if that would've drawn attention to me either but my curiosity got the best of me. I looked up and over at them: they wore raggidy clothing and had old shoes on their feet and they wore a beanie on their heads, their hair was grey and dark, two had a beard and one didn't. I kept looking at them while I was walking up to them but I think I stared too long.

"Hey! What are you looking at?" one guy bellowed.

"Nothing, nothing. I'm sorry." I said as I picked up my pace. I started to go past them but one got in my way and I stopped.

"Where do you think you're going young man?" another guy asked me. He held his arm out and placed his hand on my chest.

"Home." I said. I tried to stay as calm as I could but his hand turned from a palm into a grasp. He held my shirt tightly so I couldn't get away.

"What's in the bag?" the third guy said.

"Just, just some food and water." I said. The third guy ripped the bag out of my hand and I couldn't go and get more food, I used up all my money for that.

"Let's see what we should take." one said.

The third guy opened the bag and saw everything that was in there.

"We're just gonna take it all." the third guy said.

The guy who was grabbing my shirt pushed me down to the ground. He turned me on my stomach and stepped on my back, almost breaking it.

"Get off of me!" I yelled, hoping someone would hear.

"Shut up. No one's gonna hear you." one demanded.

The weight he put on my back hurt so badly that it was hard to move, all I could do was wince in pain.

"Come on, be quiet. It'll be easier for both of us." the same guy ordered.

I didn't want to just stay quiet, I wanted to get up and run home but I couldn't. It felt like I was paralyzed.

"Let's put him in the dumpster, he won't be able to leave." the same guy said.

The three of them picked me up and threw me into the garbage. They shut the lid and then I heard a thud. I bet they sat on it so I couldn't get away. I went in face first and I hit my head on a garbage bag. It smelt atrocious but I needed to get out.

I tried to push the lid open but it was no use, all I got in return was laughs.

"Let me out! Please!" I yelled.

The three men laughed, but then opened the lid.

"We'll let you go if you play Russian roulette with us." one guy said.

"What? No." I screamed.

“Then you ain’t leaving.” the same guy said as he began to closet the dumpster lid again.

“Wait wait wait. Fine," I said. “I just wanna go home.”

"Alright. Get out of the dumpster." the same guy demanded.

I got out, but then I hesitated. I wanted to run but I didn't want to get shot in the back if I tried. I tried to run but one guy grabbed my arm.

"Oh, where do you think you're going?" the guy said, pulling me over to him. His hand clenched onto my arm like a claw machine does to a toy in the arcade.

"You're going first and I'm pulling the trigger for you." one guy said.

"Please. Don't." I pleaded, crying.

"Be a real man! Get ready." the guy said, pointing the gun at my head.

I focused on his hand, not trembling like how my entire body was. I could see his finger getting ready to pull the trigger and in a flash he did.

My life flashed before my eyes and when I opened them, light shot through my cranium like I was being shot to death. Did I die? If I did, why am I in a hospital, still breathing?

I asked someone for the name of the hospital and they gave it to me. They gave it to me as I looked up. I was alive.

I thought it was a normal hospital and I would've left the same day, but I couldn't have been any more wrong. One step inside and something felt off. I should've guessed it from the stained blood on all the "doctors" and weird tubes coming out of the ceiling with a button right underneath it. From the beginning, it was a mistake to have gone alone, let alone kept going inside, but I signed myself in and took a seat.

Twenty minutes passed and I got called down, but what I didn't realize was the masks on the 'doctors' faces, even the receptionists had them on. I shrugged it off and followed the doctor down the hall. The entrance was tucked in the farthest corner of the waiting room.

As we continued, multiple screams emerged from all around me. Was this hospital always in constant pain? I had to check behind me, and unfortunately I did, for as I turned and saw too much. Off-white gas flew into the halls and waiting area from the giant pipes in the ceiling. I tried to cover my mouth so I didn't inhale the fumes, but the doctor pulled my hands down and pushed me into a room.

He forced me to the ground, and I tried to get up but he stared at me. It made me uncomfortable and even more terrified than I already was. Before he put on his gas mask, I could see what he looked like, so I examined him: his face was flushed with color, pupils were missing from his eyes and they’re bloodshot, veins pure as white were shown on his neck and wrists, bones popping out of his arms; and that was all I could see before I had to breathe in the gas and he covered his face with a gas mask.

The gas seeped under the door and I tried my best not to breathe it in but I soon had to, I couldn't survive holding my breath forever or what seemed like forever. I had to breathe in the gas eventually, and it smelt like chemicals. Not like the ones in a normal doctor's office; they smelt like something was being burned or like acid was added to the mix.

I would've rather been suffocated than be drugged but my vision went blurry and my head felt weary. It was only a few seconds after I started to breathe in the gas. I soon felt my head land on the cold floor of the room and I suddenly lost consciousness.

It only felt like a couple of seconds when I gained consciousness again, and I heard an uneasy voice begin to speak.

“Well, it looks like you’ve finally decided to wake up.” After he said that sentence I couldn’t understand a word he was saying. It sounded like gibberish to me and I kept looking at his hands. He made motions with them as if he was angry with me. I looked at his face next, only able to see his eyes because his gas mask was still on. His eyes stared straight through me like I was a ghost in this world.

I refrained from looking at his face any longer, it made me uncomfortable. I thought this was supposed to be one of the best hospitals in the state, I mean that’s what it said on the website. I guess you shouldn’t always trust what you see on the internet.

I never would’ve guessed this is what they do here, knock their patients out with gas and, well I don’t know the rest yet. I’ll find out soon since I’m one of their victims.

I decided in my best interest to look back up towards the man, but before I could he grabbed my arms on either side. I took a gulp when he made contact with me, I couldn’t move at all. My arms felt as stiff as rocks and my eyes were frozen by fear.

He looked at me like I was a fool, his bloodshot eyes stared right into mine. Chills ran down my spine and my mouth went numb. I couldn’t understand anything that was going on or where I was. It felt like I'd lost all memory up until after I got knocked out, except for knowing this was a hospital and what happened moments before I woke up here. Was it something in the gas that made me lose my memory or was it something they did to my brain while I was knocked out? I wish I could’ve seen myself in a mirror to see if there were any noticeable scars on my forehead or somewhere on my head but there weren’t any present and even if there were I probably wouldn’t be able to look at myself. I don’t even remember what I look like or sound like because of being knocked out.

I tried to gather my thoughts but they were all over the place. I couldn’t put the pieces together, everything looked blurry. All I could understand was that I was inside a hospital with an older guy dressed in a doctor’s outfit, but more gory. I didn’t understand what was going on and why he was holding me like this.

Before I could notice or have more time to think and try to piece the puzzle together, the doctor blindfolded me with an old rag, duct taped my mouth closed, and tied my wrists and ankles together with some sort of stained rope. It looked like the stain was a red color, maybe blood? If it was, I thought I knew what would happen to me.

A second later I felt his hands wrap around my wrists and his hands were freezing. They felt like dry ice was touching my skin and my wrists started hurting. Was he clenching onto my wrists like he was trying to break them or just irritate them? As he clenched onto my wrists I started moving, not in a normal way though. It felt as if I was being dragged across the floor and my body slammed into the walls and other objects in the rooms and hallways. I still had the blindfold on so I couldn’t see where I was going, who or what I was passing, but I did know this wasn’t going to end well. I heard screams and felt something wet land on my skin in multiple areas. Just from it landing on my skin some felt sticky, some felt liquefied, and some felt like they were solid but disappeared soon after. I didn’t know what it was but I had an idea of what it could be.

I could smell all sorts of things: from different gases, to blood and bodily smells. I wanted to throw up but I couldn’t make myself do it. I didn’t want the throw up to land back on myself and make me more gross than I already was. I definitely didn’t want to add any more smells to the mix so I swallowed my throw up and it was disgusting but worth it.

After the screams everything went quiet and my body went numb. I felt a sharp pain go into my right arm near my wrists and I couldn’t feel my body slamming into walls and various objects anymore. I couldn't feel myself sliding across the floor either. It felt like I was hovering above the floor and the air moved me around but I knew that wasn’t true. My arms and legs were no longer my own anymore, my body was theirs.

They hoisted me up to god knows where but maybe it was heaven, but it was most likely hell. If this was heaven why would I feel scared? Wouldn’t I feel safe rising up to God’s welcoming arms?

All I could imagine was seeing the Devil’s face, smiling after seeing corpses line up at his doorstep. His eyes were hungry for more people to torture, and his fingernails were sharpened to slice clean through skin, muscle, and bone. His smile said a thousand words, but the words were screams coming from inside his soul. It felt like I could hear the screams, and they sounded like they were coming from children. I thought they were screaming for help and I couldn’t go and help them, I felt useless. I was trapped alongside them and I didn’t know a way to escape but the only thing I could remember was his smile.

His smile was impeccable though. No wonder why so many turned to him, he flashed his smile all throughout heaven, hell, and the place where I live, earth. It seemed to be a smile of good, mischievous times, but it also whispered regret. His smile made me feel like I was getting stabbed with a thousand knives coming from all around me, acid pouring over my head, revealing nothing but my skull. Damn, I wished I was being lifted up to heaven to see the eyes of God and not the eyes of Satan.

This may not even be Satan at all, he might just be a soul trapped by Satan. He might’ve been given temptations and opportunities to sin and fell into Satan's trap but I don’t know. He could be Satan though, but I wished that I hadn’t shown up here. I had to deal with my own satanic doctor, maybe Satan himself. I didn’t want him to have control over my body but he lifted me up to heaven. I knew he wouldn’t keep me there for long and he’d soon drag me down into hell. I could feel his breath landing on my bare skin and I could hear the words he engraved into my skull. I didn’t know what to do but what I do know is that I wished I’d never shown up here. Having to deal with my own satanic doctor, maybe Satan himself.

He lifted me up to heaven, but I knew he would drag me down into hell. I could feel his arms wrap around my waist and my head. I felt one hand touch my pants and the other touch my neck. I felt like he was grabbing my thighs and squeezing them to the point where it hurts. I felt his fingernails penetrate my skin but I didn’t know if it was that or a knife he carried on himself. I felt him grasp around my throat, holding tightly but where I could still breathe. It felt like I was drowning or being choked. He used my neck and my thighs to lift my body up and I felt uncomfortable. Why was he doing this to me? What did I ever do to deserve this?

What felt like a second later, I felt my back being slammed into what feels like an operating chair, but more rough. When he slammed my body down onto it, it felt like some sort of concrete with fabric over it. It felt like the depths of hell clenching onto my back, ripping it apart with its claws. I could feel my spine shock and I heard a crack but I didn’t know where it came from. All I could feel was the concrete touching my body and hearing cracks emerge from it. Lucily, it barely touched my neck and head. After my body suffered from all the pain I could tell that my head was slightly lifted up then the rest of my body.

Before I could count to three, I got blinded by the light. The doctor laid the old rag on my forehead and untied my wrists and ankles but I couldn’t move a muscle to get up and escape. Maybe the sharp pain I felt was a needle with some sort of drug that made my body stiff to make sure I wouldn’t try to escape this hellhole. It felt like I was stuck in an ongoing nightmare and I couldn’t leave and go back to being normal. I felt like I’ve lost my mind, torturing my own body with images I’ve heard and seen before but could never remember.

Before I could let out a tiny whisper, he clasped my wrists, waist, and ankles tightly with a belt. He clasped my neck to the point where I needed to gasp for air. He didn't give me any mercy and pushed the belt down as far as he could so I could still breathe but be tortured at the same time, and then someone else walked in.

I heard a metal door open and immediately knew that someone walked in but my neck was being pushed down so much that I couldn't lift my head to see who it was. I was able to hear their footsteps so I knew it was only one person who walked in, I didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing but after their footsteps emerged I heard the metal door slam shut. I didn’t know if they slammed it shut or if the weight of the door slammed it. Either way, I was scared out of my mind. I didn’t know what was going on. Was this person going to torture me at the same time this guy was? Was this new person going to torture me worse then the other guy already did?

As the footsteps got closer I heard the other person start to talk. I still couldn't see their face, I could only see a little bit of their hair because I couldn't turn my head to the side to see what they looked like. I did hear the footsteps walk all around me but that was it.

The only other thing I heard from them was,

“This is Patient eight hundred and twenty-seven right?”

“Yes, he hasn’t put up a fight yet, so I think he’s a good candidate.”

“Alright. To get this straight, patient eight hundred and twenty-seven is male, five feet and eleven inches, one hundred and fifty pounds, has green eyes, platinum blonde hair, is tan, has one prosthetic leg on the right side, and is sixteen years old. He has one mother and no father. Does that all sound correct?”

“Yes, I think that’s all the information we have of him.”

“Perfect, right now he should start feeling some pain shock through his body from the drug you gave him. You did give it to him right?”

“Oh, I didn’t know I had to give it to him yet. I’ll get right on it.”

“This better be done by the time I get back.”

That was all I heard before their footsteps quickly faded and the slam of a metal door followed. From what I heard, the other person who entered sounded like a man but he was annoyed. He sounded like something went wrong or the guy who was first in the room with me messed up. I know the guy who was in here with me before was supposed to give me some sort of medication, I didn't know what it was though or what it does. I also heard the other man describe what I looked like, he said that I was sixteen years old but if that was true, why would I come to this hospital alone? I didn't think that I would've come here alone, did my mom drop me off here or was she still in the waiting area? Did she become a victim like me? And why didn't I have a father? Did something go wrong in my parents marriage or did he die? I wanted to know what happened with my father but I knew I couldn’t worry about that right now. I needed to figure out what happened to my mom and see if I could find her.

I knew that I had to say something and ask questions that I should get answers to but I tried my best to talk. The belt holding my neck down was too tight to where if I tried to talk it felt like I was being strangled and I couldn't breathe while talking either. I had to choose to either talk and suffer, or breathe and try to stay alive. I knew my best bet was to not talk but to glance around the room with my eyes to try to see if I can get some answers. My whereabouts were limited though because I could only move my eyes around to see what was going on. I couldn't see the floor up to my face and it felt like the chair I was on was higher than it actually was. I looked to my left and I saw some bookcases filled with syringes, glass bottles, and glass jars filled with different substances. I looked to my right and saw the doctor who was filling up a syringe with a weird liquid. Was that the drug he was supposed to give me? Why did it look that color? It was disgusting, it looked like he just filled that syringe with throw up. I started to freak out more than I already was. Am I even going to survive this torture?

“Don’t worry this won’t hurt a bit,” the doctor said with a crooked smile.

I could tell that he was lying, why would he want to keep me out of harm's way and not hurt me? He most likely already gave me bruises from when he slammed my body into the cement chair and dragged me through what seemed like hallways and slammed my body into the objects that consumed the space they were in. I knew I most likely wouldn’t survive this place but from what I've seen so far, they knock their patients out, tie them up and drag them through hallways making sure their victims get bruised and hurt, and they give them some sort of drug or poison. I hoped that this was the worst of it but it probably was going to get worse from here on out. My thoughts were getting interrupted by the doctor rusting through what seemed like a metal drawer filled with various objects of only God knows what.

I looked right, again, with my eyes to see him at his desk, but he turned around slowly and I tried to look straight into his hands. It was hard for me to focus on his hands but I tried my best. I saw two syringes filled with that weird liquid. He walked closer and closer towards me and I tried to kick myself free but every move I made put my whole body in pain. I wanted to escape, I wanted to get out of this hellhole but I knew that no matter how hard I tried I would still be stuck here getting tortured for the rest of my life. I kept trying to kick myself free but it was wearing my body out quicker than normal. I even tried to block out all the noises and tried to concentrate on escaping but it was no use. The doctor's voice penetrated my focus and I was now focused on his voice.

“Stop moving right now or this dose doubles!”

I didn’t know what to do, I knew that if I got the double dose, it was most likely going to be lethal or very close to it. I knew that I wouldn’t be here to see life again if I made it close to escaping this hellhole. I didn’t know if it was better to sit still and take the dose or keep trying to break free from these chains.

I tried to calm my body down as much as I could but it was no use. The doctor filled up two more syringes and came over to me as fast as possible. I tried to hold my breath and calm down but my legs stopped shaking, arms stopped trying to get free. My heartbeat raced faster per second and all I could hear was pumping in my own chest and the footsteps of that doctor.

I looked at his hands with the four syringes, two were filled with that weird liquid and the others looked white. Was he giving me two different drugs at one time? I stopped looking at him and then in one second he was standing above me with the syringes.

My heartbeat raced more than it already was. With another crooked smile the doctor said, “Bloods filling up my glasses, and I think I need a refill!”

What does that even mean? ‘Bloods filling up my glasses and I think I need a refill,’ was that a metaphor for something? I was so confused, what was he talking about? I looked at his face and his smile was more crooked than it was before, showing his bloodied teeth and withering gums. His breath was atrocious. Reeking of smoke, alcohol, and a little bit of blood. It was like he didn’t know what dental hygiene was. I don’t know what else his breath could smell like. All I knew was that I couldn’t breathe it in because it would’ve made me throw up and have even more pain in my neck from the belt pushing down my throat. I wanted to ask questions and get the answers that I deserved, but there was nothing that I could do. I couldn’t move or speak. I was trapped until they knocked me out again or the rare possibility that I found a way to escape.

I closed my eyes to try to block this place out, but it was no use. Even in complete darkness this place decided to haunt me. It felt like the intense darkness was suffocating me with shapeless hands that belonged to a murderer, who showed their victims no mercy. It was worse than I could even imagine though, I was being silenced out, but I had so many words I wanted to say. I just couldn’t form the sentences. I wanted to run away from this place and tell everyone what I went through, what I felt, and what I've heard but I couldn’t. I couldn’t run, I couldn’t hide from this place. It was already imprinted in my brain. I couldn’t speak and tell the world how I felt. I couldn’t cry and let myself become even more vulnerable than I already was.

I couldn’t let off any emotion that would make me weak. I wanted to shed a tear but I knew if I did, he would do something that I couldn’t explain. I didn't know what he would do to me but what I did know was that it wouldn’t be good. I had to make sure to not let out any emotion. I have to make sure to not let out a whimper of pain or let a tear run down my face. I didn't think I could even hide from him. I wanted to run off and find a place where he couldn’t find me but I knew that was impossible. I felt like I was hiding from the devil for a little while but I knew he could still see me. I knew he was staring right at me, right through me. I didn't know what I could do, what I could do. I felt like I couldn't breathe, I couldn't run away anymore because I knew I wasn’t set free and I was never going to be set free.

I was bound to this chair like how a puppet was bound to its strings, forced to listen to its masters. Like a ragdoll they threw on the street to get run over, ripped apart, and sewn back together to do the same thing and worse things over and over again. Being forced to take drugs I didn't want to take and being forced to say things I didn't want to say or I had to stay silent even though I had a whole speech I wanted to say. Being forced to stay still like a statue even though I wanted to run away from this place but I couldn’t. Being forced to be someone that I wasn’t. All I could do was wait for them, wait for them to do whatever they wanted with me. I wasn’t able to do anything except wait. I was useless and couldn't do anything for myself. I was being treated as their own little puppet and there was nothing I could do except open and close my eyes. I thought that nothing would happen if I kept them shut for as long as possible, and at the same time, I wanted to control my own thoughts before I opened them. To keep my eyes open would allow more scars, physical and emotional, and they had done enough to me so far.

Wait, it wasn’t just me who had to go through this. It was everybody I could and could not see. To be honest, I could imagine many people falling from the sky. I’m guessing that everyone somehow ends up here in the end. What can we do to escape it, to escape this new reality actually? I kept asking myself if this was the worst of it? I wanted to keep telling myself that it was, but it probably wasn’t. Why wouldn’t they want to make my life a living hell? They were probaly going to put me in more torture and do things to me that I couldn’t even imagine.

I wanted to open my eyes before I got even more freaked out then I already was, and it didn't feel like I had them closed for a long time. But before I could make a decision for myself, my stomach caved in and crushed my organs. It felt like I was winded after running a track race but at the end someone decided to throw a brick at me. My lungs weren't there anymore, as if they disappeared without leaving a trace. It had sent a nerve into my eyes to open them up immediately, and when I did open my eyes everything was blurry. I couldn't see straight, and it was hard to keep them open. The only thing I could see was a silhouette of a man standing in front of me.

All the noises were blocked out from God knows what but it came back slowly but also in a flash. I was first able to hear white noise, then it went to the noise of the heater on the other side of the room. I was able to hear water droplets from the sink next to me, then it went to some mumbling, but before I could regain my thoughts it turned into words. Words that a calm person wouldn't use, words that an angry person would use. Words that would break someone's innocence. I could tell immediately that those words came from the doctor who was 'treating' me.

He said, "Why did you pass out! You fucking little brat thinking you could be unconscious for a while and think you could escape? An iv's in you! Why did you pass out on me?"

He kept rambling on and on, and then silence happened. Why was he angry with me? I didn't pass out on purpose, but now a thought conjured up. How did I pass out? Was it from the drug he gave to me before or was it something completely different? Was it dehydration? Heat? Severe pain or a sudden drop in my blood pressure? Was it a seizure or from trauma? I didn't know what else it could be but I wanted to keep thinking of what made me pass out. But I couldn’t, I overheard the doctor yelling at me again.

He said, "Listen when I'm talking to you! I had to wait hours for you to decide to wake up again, but then I got bored and just did it myself. I already gave you your first dose but now you're getting the second one as well. Say hello to hell for me, oh wait you don't have to. We're already here!"

What did he mean by "Say hello to hell for me, oh wait you don’t have to. We're already here." That put my mind in a maze unable to escape. Was this some sort of mind trick or was it something that's incoherent to me? I looked at him to see how much time I would have left before he gave me the second dose, but I guess I was too late.

He said, "Say hello to your parents for me, why don't ya."

My parents? Why did he want me to say hi to them? And plural? My dad, as far as I know, was dead, gone forever,  and my mom was trapped here somewhere. I was never going to be able to see her again, or in that case anyone again. I was never going to be able to hear their voices again, or let alone get a hug from them again. I wanted to ask him if I could see my mom one last time before I take this second dose, but he probably wouldn't let me. The pain from knowing that I would never see them again got to me. I let out a single tear but then a spark hit and a stream ran down my face. As the droplets fell off my face it landed on the floor little by little, soon going to create a pond full of tears and memories.

Memories of when I was younger and carefree, not having a single care in the world. Not having to worry about anything that would happen that day or in the future. All of those memories were flooding into my brain making me dizzy, I couldn't think straight.

I kept remembering my childhood, and I wanted to try to get up and scream for help but that would make me even more vulnerable than I already was. But how could someone who is strapped to a chair, unable to move, be any more vulnerable? Oh I know, I would probably get drugged again, get tortured even more and have to feel it for hours and hours every single day. I most likely wouldn't know what they would do to me because I would probably be blindfolded and have a rope in my mouth to keep it open and to not break my teeth. I didn’t want to feel anymore pain then I was already in but I knew that wasn’t going to happen as long as I was here. I didn't think that any part of me would be able to handle any of that. I didn't even know how long I've been trapped here. Have I been here for a week? A few days? I didn't know. I was probably not even going to be able to know it any time soon and with that all the memories start to flood my mind again.