Patient No. 3160-File by Josephine Dunn

1st Place, 6-9 Grade Fiction

9/4/24

Note: Rough translation after disorderly discussion with the subject. 

Events not confirmed to be true. 

"MISSING PERSON IN OHIOPYLE, PENNSYLVANIA," our rusted old radio sounded. The third report that week. The faint whistle of police cars melted into a harmony with the high pitched birdsong. I drilled the last screw into place, finally completing the window renovations in our new home. We'd moved to this little town out in the countryside. If one could call it a town. It was a quarter mile in each direction until the next neighbor's house, along a winding, dusty road riddled with potholes. There wasn't much around. It was simply...quiet.

My mother had been skeptical of our decision. "Stay here till the wedding," she would say. I wish I'd listened to her. But the lure of the wide open fields and massive brick and pine wood house was irresistible. Alejandro and I didn't think about the sudden sale of the building. How the decision hadn't been signed off by the actual owners. How the price was too good for such a massive house. There were no moving vans when we got here. In fact, no sign that anyone had been moving at all. Oh, why didn't we pay attention? 

"Marie, love?" Alejandro's deep voice pulled me out of my thoughts. I turned to see him inspecting a tall glass of crystalline water that he'd pulled from the sink tap in our kitchen. "Have you tried the water?" he asked, taking another sip. 

"No," I reply. "How is it?" 

He ran his tongue along his lips, a thoughtful look in his eyes. "It tastes funny." 

I pushed myself to my feet, my knees aching from kneeling for hours. Walking over, I lifted the glass from his hands, and downed a few sips. The water had a slightly sweet flavor to it. It was a pleasant thing, but there was an almost imperceptible rotting bitterness hidden underneath. 

"Huh," I exclaimed, gingerly moving the cup from my lips. "I don't hate it. Maybe they've just got a thing with the pipes?" 

"Probably." Alejandro replied. 

We were so stupid. So stupid! We should have known, why couldn't I see? What, what, what's wrong with--? 

As the sun set along our acres of grassy fields, the oranges and reds melding with the autumnal leaves adorning the trees, Alejandro and I sipped cocktails on the front porch. The chill deepened, and we wrapped ourselves in thick, wool blankets. 

"We should get animals," Alejandro said. "Start a farm." 

"I love you, you know." I leaned across the table and kissed him softly on the mouth. 

"I get to name our doooooog," He said in a sing-song voice, punching me lightly in the shoulder. I giggled and shoved him against the back of his chair. "Not if I have anything to say about it!" 

The night rolled on, and before long we were crashed on the soft, squishy mattress. 

I don't know what woke me. All I know is my eyes lifted open to an empty bed, Alejandro gone. My first thought was he had gone to the kitchen for water. But something told me that it wasn't so. Maybe it was the fact that the sheets were cold. Or I couldn't hear Alejandro's constant humming. My heartbeat quickened. Had he sleepwalked? No, he couldn't have. I tried to settle on the thought that he'd just gone out for some fresh air. 

I slowly lifted myself from the bed, my breaths quick and shallow. The darkness was heavy, a thick, dark film that blocked my vision in every direction. I was usually not someone to get scared and skittish of things that weren't there. But something felt different. Something felt...off. 

I hurried my way downstairs, panic beginning to set in. I felt like I could hear things that weren't there. The usually incessant crickets in the trees had silenced. The world was holding its breath. Beneath the silence, I could hear something. An almost imperceptible throbbing sound, like a steadily pounding, never ending drumbeat. 

I made my way outside and began to search the wrap-around porch. As I searched and searched, I began to get frantic. I sprinted out into our fields, tripping over my grass stained nightgown. I couldn't find him anywhere! He was gone. 

I snatched my phone from our nightstand. My hands were shaking so much that I could barely type in 911. I answered their questions in a panic, choking back sobs. 

After about ten or so minutes, the police arrived. They calmed me down, talking sense into my frantic ramblings. We began to search for Alejandro, the group of police splitting up to scan the property for him. They at first wanted me to stay home, but my insistence had them bringing me along. 

Sometimes, I wonder how things might have worked out if I'd stayed in the house, safe and sound. 

I traveled with a handful of them to the far left corner of the fields. Nestled on the edge of the dark woods, we had a little toolshed. It was a small thing, a simple wooden structure with an unstable planked roof that listed ever so slightly to the right, like the entire roof was reaching towards the woods. 

As I stepped into the shed to search the thing, I smelled something...strange. An undertone of a thick, rotting stench, like something had curled up in the shed and died. Something about the smell was familiar, like I had tasted it somewhere. I wrinkled my nose, heart beginning to pump faster as I began to wonder where the stink came from. 

I traveled deeper into the cold, dark, empty shed. The stink became stronger, so strong that I could taste it in my throat. I could just barely make out that same steady, quiet thumping noise that I'd heard while looking for Alejandro. It began to sound less like a drum...and more like a heartbeat. I felt like a doctor's stethoscope, pressed to the chest of a sickly patient. I gulped, goosebumps rising on my arms and legs, feeling fear drag its icy claws down the nape of my neck. 

I wandered into the back of the shed. It seemed to stretch on forever. As the darkness became heavier, I began to regret leaving my flashlight at home, perched on the kitchen counter. I wandered forward, the walls shrinking closer and closer, until I could feel it pressing against my shoulders. The tunnel soon began to slope downward. The outside sound faded away. All I could hear was that throbbing, pounding heartbeat. 

I began to see a faint, grayish light illuminating the oddly smooth walls of the tunnel. It became so strong that I had to shield my eyes as they adjusted to the sudden brightness. I felt the tunnel widen into a massive chamber. The heartbeat noise was almost deafening at this point. That awful stench was so strong that I gagged, my stomach churning. The cave floor was soft and squishy, like the flesh of a living creature. The roof of the space was lined with gray and black semi-translucent tubes that pumped with a strange liquid. 

The true oddity and horror sat in the center of the room. A massive, throbbing, pale gray heart hung from the ceiling. I could just barely see three vaguely humanoid figures suspended in the gelatinous fluid in the heart. They were completely still. 

And then there was Alejandro. Or...I think it was him. He was crouched at the base of the heart, his hands pressed to the fleshy exterior. His once broad, muscular shoulders were shriveled and thin, his arms and legs skin and bone. He was dressed only in a tank top and boxers. His hair was matted and patchy, as if he'd been tearing at it. He turned, revealing his face. It was hidden by a white mask, marred by a crudely drawn black smile. As he rose to his feet, I suddenly realized how tall he had become. 

I don't know what it was, but something drew me forward, into Alejandro's outstretched arms. As he closed himself around me, the world fell still. It was just the two of us. I felt his hands grab my arms, and long, rough nails sank into my skin. 

A fiery pain raced through my veins, snapping me back to reality. I screamed in fear and pain, stumbling backwards from Alejandro, and sprinting towards the exit. I'd never run so fast in my life, and I didn't stop until I stumbled out into the cold night air. I broke down into tears, screaming my heart out to the startled and concerned police officers. The rest of the night was a blur. I suppose they guided me to the car. And now I'm here.

INTERVIEW LOG CLOSED 

9/15/24 - Patient activity has become erratic. Frantic pounding on walls and floor. Screaming of a "heart" and "bodies". 

FILE CLOSED: PATIENT DEAD