Chapter Ten: The Sanatorium

(Dread, Part 2)

***

Mateo ran as fast as his exhausted body could take him, panic for his best friend giving him a renewed burst of adrenaline as he ran down a flight of stairs, another corridor of rooms, down another set and through the only entrance and into another room at the end, seeing it was in less disrepair than most of the building.

And, at a blood-stained table, fingers caught in a bear trap and a machete raised over the crushed, bleeding fingers, was Mike.

"Mike!" he yelled, attracting his attention.

"Mateo?!" he yelled back. "How the hell did you—why are you here?"

"Saving your ass, apparently," Mateo returned as he walked over, wincing at what he saw. "No chingues. How the hell did you get your fucking fingers caught in a bear trap?"

"There was a note attached to a fucking dismembered arm and..." Mike reasoned before he lifted the machete again—to pry the jaws loose or slice his caught fingers off, Mateo had no idea. Only that he might injure himself further with it.

Taking the machete out of Mike's hand, Mateo looked at the damage and muttered, "Okay. Jesus, Mike. Okay. We can't pry it open, but..."

Sliding his Bowie knife out, Mateo raised the blade over his friend's caught fingers and, without hesitation, swung down.

The sharp blade severed through flesh and bone like it was warm butter—the bear trap having also dealt a lot of damage—leaving the top half of Mike's ring and little fingers behind and a spray of blood to come gushing out. Mike bellowed in pain as Mateo let the knife clatter to the table and ripped the edge of his shirt off, trying to remember what Jordan said about treating bleeding injuries—put pressure on to stop the bleeding, then clean and disinfect, then bandage. Given Mateo didn't see anything to clean or disinfect, he stuck with putting pressure on the bleeding stumps, grunts of pain coming from Mike until the bleeding slowed and Mateo tore another strip off his flannel, winding it over the stumps and tying it off tightly.

"Thanks," Mike gasped, sweat beading on his forehead from the pain despite the chill. "Where'd you learn that?"

"My fiancé's studying to be a doctor. You pick up a few things," Mateo answered, making sure it was tight before he looked around and asked, "Mike, where's Jess? What the hell happened to you guys?"

Mike's eyes, which were already blown out with pain, widened. "Mateo, did you just call Jordan your fiancé?"

"Yeah, I did. Proposed to her before the shitshow started," Mateo said tersely, giving Mike a look. "Mike, where's Jess?"

Mike's jaw clenched , grief shadowing his face. "Jess, she... she was dragged out of the window. I chased after her, into the mines, but I... I was too late. She was... God Jess looked like..."

Mike couldn't say anymore, like the words were physically painful. At that, Mateo's tense shoulders slumped as he looked at Mike in sympathy. If that had been Jordan... God, Mateo didn't know if he'd even still be breathing if she died, and in such a horrific, terrifying way that seemed to be implied for Jess.

"Fuck, I'm sorry, man," he breathed, knowing that wasn't enough.

Still, Mike accepted it as his jaw clenched tighter and he added, "But I saw the psycho who killed her—followed him through the mines and into here. It's like he... lives there and in here. And he's gonna fucking pay for what he did to her."

Mateo was quiet as he processed that. Could the psycho Mike saw be the same psycho who murdered Josh via a sadistic choice Chris had to make? And yet, how could a human be able to physically drag a person through a window, even as slight as Jess was?

And yet, what other explanation was there?

"Man, this night is all sorts of fucked," Mateo muttered, running a hand through his hand.

"Doesn't sound like it was for you," Mike said pointedly.

Mateo winced, looking at Mike as his best friend asked, "Why didn't you tell me you were going to propose to Jordan?"

"You're terrible at keeping secrets, Mike. You would have let something slip to her about it, otherwise I would have told you—you would have been the first person I'd tell," Mateo explained.

"Okay, that's not..." Mike argued, but at the look Mateo gave him, he sighed and amended, "That's completely fair."

Mike looked at him, a teasing smirk on his face. "Did she say yes?"

Mateo grinned back. "She did. We're officially engaged."

"Man, congrats," Mike congratulated, grinning. "I'm gonna be your best man, right?"

"Dude, that was half the reason I came to find you," Mateo replied, before the good humour died. "The other half is... there's a psycho running around this mountain and I had to find you and Jess. I'm... I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner to help Jess."

"Dude, you're not the fucking Flash or whatever. You got here as fast as you could. At least the twisted maniac who killed her is still around," Mike said, before revenge and anger entered his face, mingling with the shadows of grief and the spark in his eyes that his best friend would be getting married to the love of his life.

"Yeah. So let's go and get some answers from him," Mateo decided, determination filling him.

They walked away from the table, Mike picking up a lantern that cast a faint orange glow over their surroundings, as Mateo realised the room looked like a morgue, doors at the other end that he and Mike went toward. But as they walked, the friends saw a strange, creepy skull embalmed in a glass jar on a shelf, milky eyes staring out from the hollows of its eye sockets.

"That's some fucking nightmare shit," Mateo muttered as he stared at it.

"Yeah. This place just gets better and better," Mike snarked before they walked away and headed toward the doors. Once they did, they both stared in shock and annoyance at the sign saying they needed the key card to access the chapel beyond.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Mateo groaned.

"Are you serious? Now we gotta find a fucking keycard?" Mike questioned in utter disbelief.

"This is fucking ridiculous," Mateo griped as he glared at the door. "Estás pendejo."

Mike gave Mateo a look at him cussing at the door, before he turned to find a keycard, Mateo following after giving one last glare at the door. They headed to the stainless steel cabinets and trays where the bodies were kept in cold storage, some open and some closed. Mike bent down to open one, letting out a gust of cold air as he dragged the tray out with an audible groan, revealing nothing but a dark red stain that could be rust or blood. Mateo didn't know which one he'd prefer.

But as he looked, he noticed some sort of tag left on the tray. Nudging Mike, his friend saw it and picked it up, and in the lantern's light and despite time and age and decay fading it, the bright blue cursive ink read clearly "Nicholas Bowen. Feb 24th 1952. Attack by inmate. Fatal lacerations to throat".

Mateo bit his lip, furrowing his brow at what the tag had said as he and Mike stood up, heading over to the other side where more cold storage units were. This time, Mateo opened one, letting out cold air and a rank smell as he pulled out the steel tray, revealing a piece of paper... and rags that gave off the rank smell.

Mateo wrinkled his nose at the smell as Mike picked the paper up and hissed, "Mateo."

Mateo leaned over and saw it was a death certificate, of a woman called Sarah Smith who must have been a nurse here. Mateo's blood chilled at seeing her cause of death was a homicide, and chilled further as Mike turned it over and in looping cursive, an additional note read, "Body was not discovered until 6-8 hours after death. Sections of the intestine and kidneys were apparently EATEN by the attacker."

"Eaten?" Mateo breathed, shuddering. "What kind of fucking person would attack and eat someone?"

"Something tells me these patients weren't exactly in their right minds," Mike muttered as he put the death certificate down, but even he seemed unnerved at the notion.

Mateo stared at the death certificate and the note on the other side. "Yeah. Maybe rabies?"

"Rabies?"

"I found a medical report on a miner, before finding you," Mateo revealed, and by the recognition in Mike's eyes, he'd found that report as well—maybe he was the one who initially moved it. "It said the patient tried to bite someone, and if it was a miner, then maybe he got bit by a rabid bat and contracted it. But I don't know now. I don't think rabies has you try to eat people."

"Yeah, but... I think that's the most logical explanation for what happened here. Aside from them just... completely losing their minds," Mike muttered, a look in his eyes telling Mateo he'd found something more than just medical files.

The two friends, both looking pensive and disturbed by what they'd found so far, stood up and headed to one last unit, Mike opening it and pulling out the tray—and revealing a half-preserved corpse inside, hair still attached to the skull as skin clung to it, milky eyes staring out.

"Ugh... fuckin' sick," Mike groaned as Mateo suppressed the urge to gag. "That's fucking sick."

It increased when a large rat crawled out of the corpse's mouth and scampered into the darkness with a squeak, Mateo and Mike staring at it in silent horror.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Mateo breathed, turning away as he breathed through his mouth, choking on the horrid sickly stench of decay wafting from the corpse.

"Mateo," Mike murmured, and he turned to see a keycard in Mike's hand—a keycard that must have belonged to the dead body lying on the slab.

"Guess that's one way to find one," Mateo weakly joked, eyeing the dead body.

Mike cracked a weak grin before it faded as he looked at the keycard. "Okay. Let's check this out."

There was no need for Mateo to be told twice, as they left the dead body and headed back to the door. Mike slid the keycard into the old-fashioned scanner and Mateo heard a groaning click as the lock unlocked. Grabbing the handle, Mike swung the now-unlocked door open, darkness awaiting them.

Taking the keycard out, Mike walked through first, Mateo behind him as they saw a room with chairs tilted and then walked through rooms with broken bars in the window panes, and up a flight of stairs, faint creaking filling the air and disturbing the eerie silence.

They were just about to ascend the third set of stairs when loud barking came.

Mateo whirled, eyes wide as he saw a grey wolf there, barking and snapping its jaws at him and Mike, like it was ready to lunge and rip out their throats.

"Oh fuck!" Mateo and Mike yelled as they ran up the stairs, the wolf giving chase.

Mateo's aching muscles burned, but he ignored them as he kept sprinting up the stairs, just behind Mike before they came to a landing, mind screaming a flurry of panicked curses in a mix of English and Spanish as he and Mike bolted through an arched entryway, Mike cursing, "Oh shit, oh shit!", and down the corridor, the wolf growling and barking and still on their heels.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK!" Mateo cursed as they sprinted through an entrance on their left, Mike muttering, "Okay okay okay okay okay,"as they raced down the corridor and through the doorway, the both of them wasting no time in slamming the door closed—and stopping the wolf.

Panting, Mateo caught his breath, wincing at the frigid air, before a loud clang caught his and Mike's attention.

"What?" Mike asked out loud as the pair turned to a broken circle window, most of the glass missing from its steel skeleton as they glimpsed through it into what was either the rest of the Sanatorium or the chapel, debris scattered all over it as light drifted in through the broken ceiling, arches supporting the second floor shadowing entrances leading further into the Sanatorium.

"Okay. Isn't this a quaint little psycho crib?" Mike muttered derisively, staring at it.

Mateo frowned. "No one could live in those conditions down there—fuck, I can't imagine anyone living here at all. It must be for something else."

"Like what?" Mike asked. Mateo just shrugged—he didn't have an answer to that.

Turning away from the window, they walked further away until coming upon a set of stairs—stairs that led to a broken piece of floor.

"Great," Mateo muttered as Mike went down first, landing with a grunt that echoed in the near-quiet, Mateo right behind as he grunted in slight pain, knees not bent enough.

"Careful. Don't want a broken leg before your wedding day," Mike joked. Mateo shot him a glare.

"Says the best man currently missing two fingers," Mateo retorted.

Mike raised a hand as if to accept he'd walked into that one, before he frowned and raised the lantern higher, looking around the room. So did Mateo, before recognition dawned on him—this was the same room he'd crawled out of the basement into, that Mike had crawled out of and into the same room.

"Oh. Right. Back in here," Mike said, also recognising the place.

"Come on. Let's forget the psycho and find a way out of here and back to the others," Mateo said, eyeing his surroundings. "I'm done with this creepy as shit place."

Mike nodded in agreement, and they walked down the path and then to the right, through an entranceway framed by crosses and a plaque that read CHAPEL. A bit plain compared to the church he was forced to go to on every Sunday as part of his Catholic upbringing, but Mateo still felt an air of reverence from it, except there was something else, something that crawled across his skin. 

Like something darker had tainted the air of the holy place and had fouled it.

Eyeing the plaque warily, Mateo followed Mike up to the chapel doors, where he used the keycard to open them. They were about to step foot inside—when the wolf lunged out, barking at them.

Mateo and Mike yelled out in a panic before Mike kicked the wolf reflexively. It let out a whimper and stalked away, and Mike's terror faded.

"Ugh! Get away!" Mike snarled, as the wolf now stood guard in front of a wire-mesh door, growling menacingly.

Mateo stared at the growling wolf as Mike approached it with a hand raised, saying in a nervous voice, "That's a good boy. That's right."

"Mike, it's a wolf, not a dog," Mateo hissed.

"I saw the psycho with them," Mike revealed as he kept approaching the growling wolf, who now backed away from Mike.

"Easy," his idiot of a friend said as the wolf kept growling at him, before snapping its jaws at him.

Mike retreated, holding the hand up placatingly as he said, "Hey. I'm not so bad. Right? Acquired taste."

Mateo rolled his eyes as Mike winced. "Oof. Bad choice of words."

"You think, dumbass?" Mateo asked flatly. Mike shot him a glare before he walked around the room. As he did, Mateo decided to stay and watch the wolf, now growling at him.

"Hey, I'm not an idiot like him. I know to keep my distance," Mateo said, raising his hands. The wolf only growled.

Mateo frowned. "But now you're not chasing us... you seem pretty well-trained, for a wolf. Did that psycho guy Mike saw you with train you?"

The wolf just growled, staring at him.

Mateo looked at the wolf in a new light. "Maybe Mike was on to something. Just not in the best way."

Before Mateo could question his life choices, he moved forward and crouched down in front of the wolf, hand extended out.

The wolf eyed him warily, growling.

"I don't bite. I'm nice and friendly," Mateo said, smiling at the wolf.

The wolf still looked at him, before it slowly padded forward. It looked at Mateo as he slowly extended a hand forward, reaching to pet its head.

A loud clattering noise had both man and wolf startle, the wolf snapping its jaws as Mateo turned to see Mike holding a gun, now wearing a jacket.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. He's not gonna hurt you," Mateo soothed, before amending, "Well, not with the gun at least."

The wolf still growled suspiciously, but didn't move away as Mateo resumed petting it. It soon stopped growling as it kept letting Mateo pet it, looking at him inquisitively as Mateo smiled, sniffing him before deciding to let him continue petting it, trusting him.

Mateo's smile widened a fraction further as he petted the semi-docile wolf, the kid in him screaming in delight—he'd always wanted a wolf as a pet, and despite the chase he was now living out that childhood dream.

He would have kept petting the wolf forever if he didn't hear Mike say behind him, "Huh. When did you become the wolf whisperer?"

"Now," Mateo answered as he turned, seeing Mike also holding a bone as the wolf growled again, snapping its jaws at Mike.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. It's okay," Mateo soothed as he looked at Mike. "What's the bone for?"

"Feeding the wolf," Mike answered.

Mike contemplated it, before saying, "Do it. Might make him want to eat you less."

"Ha ha," Mike said flatly before he whistled and waved the bone.

The growling faded into a curious whimper as the wolf walked away from Mateo and toward the bone Mike now threw at it, murmuring, "Yeah, that's it. Yeah."

The wolf gnawed on the bone before looking up, a whine leaving its throat as Mike crept forward and extended a hand, saying, "Easy boy," and petted it, the wolf now friendly with him as well. "Easy."

As he kept petting the wolf, Mike said, "That's a good boy, that's right."

Mateo joined him, petting the wolf again that was now lying on the ground as Mike petted it and scratched under its chin, saying, "Hey guy, you like that? Yeah. Everyone likes a little lovin' right? Mmm? Yeah! Good boy! Yeah!"

"Very good boy. Yeah. Good protector," Mateo murmured, him and Mike giving the wolf one last pet before they stood up and walked away, looking around what looked to be a place the psycho did live in. Mateo frowned. Why did he live here? 

However, Mike was preoccupied as he lifted a cigar out of a box and said, "Ah, the stogie stash exposed."

"What?" Mateo questioned.

"Me and..." Mike started before he trailed off and his jaw clenched, muttering, "Nothing. It's nothing."

Mateo gave him a sympathetic look—Mike and Jess must have found cigar stubs before going to the cabin. He patted Mike's shoulder in sympathy as Mike put it down and they kept looking around, Mateo just eager to find a way out of here and get back to the others and see if Jordan, Emily and Matt were back with Chris, Ashley and Sam.

Jordan. Was she okay? Did they manage to send out a cry for help in time? He hoped they did, just as much as Mateo hoped he'd see his fiancé again, to hold her and never let go, to dream of a wedding together and stand there at the altar, seeing Jordan look stunning in whatever dress Emily helped her pick as they said their vows and exchanged rings, to call each other husband and wife—to say that she was his wife with the biggest smile on his face—and have a life together where, hopefully, they might have a family.

If they did, Mateo hoped they would have a little girl, who's smile was just like her mother's.

But that beautiful future could only happen once he and Mike got out of here. Once they got off this mountain and away from this psycho.

Finally, a door revealed itself—another wire-mesh door, locked to them.

Mateo sighed, about to say that it was a dead end and they could try searching for another way out when Mike pointed the gun at the lock and fired point-blank.

By some miracle, it opened the door.

"How the hell..." Mateo breathed as Mike just gave him a cocky grin. Mateo rolled his eyes as he walked through the door, Mike right behind him.

They came out through another corridor that had doors opened out and leading to stairs descending down. Mike and Mateo exchanged a look of that being a potential way out before they split ways—Mike going right, Mateo going left. As Mateo walked to the left, he saw a totem.

Holding back an eye-roll, Mateo picked it up and looked into the abyss, made darker by the black painted around it.

***

* DEATH TOTEM *

Mateo held the door open as Mike and the wolf ran through it before closing it just as the monster barrelled across the corridor. He tried in vain to close it, but the monster was too strong and wrenched it open, tackling Mateo to the floor before, with a screech, it decapitated Mateo's head from his body before its fangs tore into his flesh.

***

"You found one of those too, huh?"

Mateo blinked as he stood up, seeing Mike there.

"Yeah. Been finding them all over the place," Mateo confessed as he set it down.

"Same," Mike admitted. "Why do you think they're all over the mountain and in here?"

"I have no fucking clue. Honestly, I just want to get the fuck out of here and get back to the others," Mateo answered.

Mike nodded, agreeing with that, as together they walked back to the staircase and went down it, into the gloom and whatever else waited for them down below. There, they went down another set of stairs before coming out into what looked the basement they first entered in, looking around before they came to another locked door—and a tunnel beyond it.

Mateo groaned at their possible only way out of this eerie place was locked as Mike muttered, "Of course. Locked."

Seeing the oil barrel there, Mike shoved it out of the way, Mateo dodging it before it could collide with him, as Mike pointed the gun at the lock.

"Okay," he muttered, turning away as Mateo looked down and saw oil leaking out of the oil barrel. Very flammable oil.

"Mike," he said, but that was all he got out as Mike shot the lock on the door.

Good news: the door was open.

Bad news: the sparks landed on the oil and lit it up... and heading straight to the other barrels lined up against the wall.

"Oh shit," Mateo breathed as Mike opened the door and more flames raced out and along the barrels. "Oh shit."

"Shit," Mike cursed, realising his mistake. "Shit, shit."

"RUN!" Mateo yelled, and he and Mike sprinted away just as the barrels exploded behind them and they dove to the ground, the explosion blowing them farther across the tunnel, but aside from the force and heat of the flames, Mateo was okay.

"Mateo? Are you okay?" Mike asked.

Mateo turned to Mike and glared at him. "Estás pero si bien pendejo."

Mike winced, because if there was one thing he'd picked up from being best friends with Mateo Delgado, it's understanding what he said when he swore in Spanish or called him an idiot for doing something stupid. Like now.

"Yeah, guess I deserve that," he muttered as he helped Mateo up, his best friend glaring at him for the stupid move he pulled as they looked at the fire, still burning but steadily dying down as, through the flames, Mateo could see a tunnel.

"You think that's our ticket out of here?" Mike asked.

"It better be. I'm done with this place," Mateo muttered.

Mike sent him a grin. "Let's get the groom back to the bride, then."

Mateo rolled his eyes, but accepted what he said as they waited for the fires to die down and become safe enough for them to step through and into the tunnel. Once they were, they took no chances in continuing down and heading away from the Sanatorium.

And hopefully back to the others, back to Jordan if she hadn't already sent a message out with Matt and Emily for help.

Please be safe, querida, Mateo thought as he crept down the tunnel toward God-knows-where. I love you. Stay safe.

Stay safe.

***

Yeah, uh... Jordan's not gonna stay safe for long, Mateo

But the boys have reunited!! And Mike lost his fingers thanks to the trap and Mateo cutting them off before using knowledge he picked up from Jordan to somewhat treat it. And yeah, Mateo knows about Jess being dead from Mike's POV, and Mike knows about Jordan and Mateo being engaged and him being best man. And yeah, they went through the rest of the Sanatorium together before finding a way out (also Mateo 🤝 Dylan: Thinking rabies is behind people turning into literal monsters)

AND WOLFIE!! I love Wolfie!! And Mateo had to give him some love along with Mike 🥰

But yeah, they're heading back to the lodge and gonna find out some... stuff... while Jordan, Emily and Matt try to get help (and then it's the mines for them >:) )

Please read, comment and vote!

GhostWriterGirl out!