The Night Ward

  I work as the night ward at my local haven for troubled children. From would be suicides to early blooming schizophrenics it is my task to keep these unfortunate kids safe from the dangers they pose to themselves and others as the medical staff tries to find some form of balanced chemical formula to bring them back to rights from the psychoses that disable them. Syringes, popped pills, and even medicated food in some cases are employed to try and improve the healthy functioning of their brains and bodies so they could be released into the outside world once again.  There's another reason I'm working at this hospital in particular, and it isn't something I can put on any resume for future job prospects.

  The mass of human emotion and discord that emanates from an entire ward chocked full of troubled youngsters in the midst of puberty is a thing that tends to draw more trouble than the simple grey hairs and rankled dispositions that some health care professionals can be seen sporting in abundance. Believe it or not, humanity is a focal center for not a small number of entities that could be described as, 'disturbing.' This classification of course doesn't go nearly far enough to describe the things I've seen over the course of my time moonlighting in mental wards across the nation.

  No, suffice to say there have been times when my own mind has been stretched to capacity and perhaps beyond by the otherworldly atrocities that come to prey upon the minds of the young and innocent at their darkest hours.  Suffice to say, it is not simply the night that I work to ward.  In fact, my shift just began and already I can feel the hairs at the back of my neck standing on end.

  It's currently 11:15 on a cool October evening, walking the halls of my ward I can hear bunk mates whispering past lights out or the soft murmur of snores past closed doors. It brings a smile to my face when all is well in my ward, but I can't help shake the feeling that something might get lively about this night in particular.

  Finishing up my rounds I make my way back to the orderly station to check in and see that all is well, my sneakers scuffing softly as I pass an orderly heading the other direction, a middle aged woman I recognize to be one of the day crew. I nod at her in passing, but she keeps her eyes dead ahead, and I note a tight cast to her lips. Stressful day perhaps?  I put it to the back of my mind and proceed on to where the security check in sheet is posted and mark out the letters after the time I clock to let whichever supervisor know that nothing amiss happened in that time period.

  As I'm putting down my chart I hear the quickly repeated tap of a pen dropping around the corner from me in the area where the medical staff keeps their medications and patient dosage files. Wondering if the old woman Donna decided to take an extra moment to finish up I venture up the hall a ways so I can see back into the medical bay where I notice some files open on the table behind view of the public.

  Drawing up the divide in the counter I venture back into the depths of the medical bay where I see first the pen then Ms. Donna Sumners out cold on the ground. I rush to her side and check for a pulse and to see if she's breathing, thinking perhaps she may have fainted, but as I turn her to check her breathing I notice two red marks across the middle aged woman's left temple, where it doesn't look like she was struck so much as...burned.  I take a moment to note the regular interval of her breaths while laying her out straight on the ground only to, once I've fully lowered her, have her spring upright screaming at the top of her lungs in a pitch and in such frenzied patches of gibberish that I'm unable to think of anything but to clap my hand over her mouth lest she frighten the sleeping children just down the hall.

  "Ms. Sumners! Please, calm down! Get a hold of yourself! Ms. Sumners! What happened!? Can you hear me Ms. Sumners?" My talking to her seems to help her come to grips a little bit, as she eventually calms down enough to quit screaming past my hand and turns to face me with shaken, red rimmed eyes. "Ms. Sumners, I'm going to remove my hand, please don't scream. I don't want you to scare the children, okay?"

  The woman hesitates a moment then shakes her head in affirmation. I slowly let go of her face, but keep a hand on the woman's shoulder, trying to reassure her. I expect her to immediately start telling me what happened to get her in such a state, but instead the woman clutches me in a death grip of a hug, as if I were the only thing keeping her rooted to the world.  I can hear footsteps coming down the hall and look up to see the head practitioner Dr. Abram arriving from his office down the hall.

  He's a tall and uptight looking man, but with a kind cast about his steely eyes, and I know well of his care and ardor for helping those in his ward to acclimate themselves to the outside world. At this late hour, he looks as if he hasn't slept for a day or so, but that could well be from the long hours and little sleep that seem to go hand in hand with his professional position.

  "What is the meaning of this!? What was that unearthly howling and why are you two huddled in the corner over there?"

  I return his harsh gaze with a bemused shrug, knowing about as much as him as to what caused this generally composed professional to flip her lid and turn into the quivering heap now sobbing into my shoulder. An uneasiness settles in my core as Dr. Abram softens his look of reprimand. Though I don't have any idea what reduced Ms. Sumners to a state of shock, I get the growing feeling that the night ahead is going to be filled with more than just the usual late night sneaking about by the young patients.

  The doctor is the first to speak, regaining his professional composure. "Mr. Stron, I think it would be best if you returned to your regular rounds. I'll alert our outside security to be on the lookout while trying to ascertain what it is that happened to Ms. Sumners here." He steps forward and places a hand on her back, making her jump at the soft touch. "Diana, it's me, Dr. Abrams. Come now dear, let's get you cleaned up. We can't have the children seeing you in such a state."

  She seems to come to her senses a bit at that, and nods her head in affirmation as she slowly releases her vice grip on my orderly uniform and turns to take the doctor's hand and follow him to the private facilities of the hospital staff.

  As soon as the two of them are out of sight I make my way back to the adolescent wing of the hospital, the feeling of apprehension twisting in my stomach as every shadow of the corridor becomes alive with dark promise and presence. Settling to a stop in a well lighted portion of the hall I halt and close my eyes, opening my senses to the atmosphere and sounds around and throughout the rooms.

  I've spent years preparing and dealing with just this sort of moment. When I could defend innocents from the metaphysical nightmares that so love to prey on the minds of those without the defenses to guard against their invasion. Satisfied at the lack of sound in the hallway I commence to checking each patient's room by taking a quick peek through each door in turn. Those rooms that still have wakeful tenants I tell to hush themselves and get to sleep. In the rooms where everyone is asleep I take a moment to feel around the room with my second sight for any untoward spiritual manifestation that may be making a hiding place of the shadows in the corners.

  It isn't until I draw up to the room of a younger schizophrenic patient that I really feel the hairs on my arms standing on end. Just as I'm about to open the door the same older woman I first saw passing me in the corridor on the way to my regular check in comes around the corner from further rooms. I halt in mid reach toward the door handle and exchange a glance with her which she quickly looks away from. Seeing her now it seems there's a bit more of a tattered feel to her appearance, stray hairs are flying free of her tight bun, her clothing seems a bit ruffled, and in the brief look I exchanged with her there seemed to be a troubled cast to her eyes.

  "Excuse me, I don't believe we've met. My name is Joshua, I've been working nights around here for the past couple weeks. What's your name?" The woman stops walking, but is slow to turn around.  When she does I can see a tremble to her hands although she has them clasped in front of her with white knuckled strength.

  "H-hello Joshua, m-my name is Rebecca. I'm in charge of seeing to the e-evening rounds of medication for those that need them. I've just had a bit of a r-rough night of it in dealing with some of my last patients."

    Something about the haunted look in her eyes tells me she's seen what it is I'm looking for, and is having trouble coming to terms with the unreality of the situation. I smile in an attempt to put on a brave face before confronting her.

  "Which patients were giving you trouble? I'll be sure to keep an eye out and make sure they don't get into to much mischief."

  "No, don't!" she almost yells at me, but immediately regains some composure. "I mean, they're asleep now. I don't think they'll be any trouble at all. Don't put yourself to too much trouble. Really, you don't need to bother yourself with them."

  It sounds as if she's trying to protect me from what already no doubt frazzled her own mind in the viewing, but I have a duty to fulfill, for the sake of my personal peace of mind and the perseverance of balance in our own physical world.

  "I can assure you Rebecca, it would be no bother. I just want to make sure everyone stays safe while I'm on my rounds. Now, which patients were giving you the trouble. Did you notice anything strange about these wards?" I say my last in reference to the door we're standing in front of to which she nods negatively, a short curt motion.

  "No, it was," her gaze trails from me down the dark hallway, and I can see remembered fear playing across her face.

  "It was?"

  She comes back to herself with a shake of her head. "It was Melody Stenson, in room twenty seven. Something seemed...not right with her."

  My curiosity is piqued by her vague terms, but I try hard not to show it. "Alright Rebecca, I'll try and keep an eye out for her. If you see anything else amiss, please don't hesitate to give me a holler. I'll be around."

  She smiles weakly at me then. "Yes, I'll do that. Please do be careful. These children can be...a bit of a handful."

  "Don't I know it," I say with a conspiratorial grin as she carries on down the hall, head down and arms hugging her clipboard to her fiercely.

  I take a deep breath, waiting till she's around the corner to open the door we were conversing in front of, taking in the sight of the room with the view of my eyes and mind. I thank myself immediately that I didn't open the door when the orderly was with me.

    To my normal sight there appears only a young boy of approximately twelve sleeping fitfully, but on the layer of reality overlapping our own the atmosphere is tainted darkly and hovering in the corner of the room I bear witness to a presence of malignant darkness that swirls through and in on itself, looking like nothing so much as a condensation of palpable black smoke. Tendrils seep away from the entity and into the boy's aura, suffusing him with its own tainted being as it draws away the vital energies responsible for maintaining the normal good health and homeostasis of a healthy adult. I take a step forward and conjure up inner light from the depths of my being to the point that I am causing otherworldly radiance to permeate the room in a sphere around myself. In response and realization of my presence and ability the smoky entity puts out more coils of itself to pour into the boy's aura space in an attempt to glut itself before I have the chance to do anything.

  Not willing to wait a moment longer I lunge forward and cross my boundaries of light with the boys own tainted aura and use the brilliance of my soul to banish the encroaching darkness from his being. The entity recoils at the scorching touch of my aura and as I'm moving forward tries to recoil for self preservation, but still I come. Using skills honed from years of practice I reach out tendrils of my spirit and seize hold on the fabric of the creature's essence, scorching the black creature with my touch, and draw it towards myself.

  I will it to come closer to the light I suffuse the room with, now standing over the boy on the bed so that none of the creature may survive within his thinly spread aura, and blaze brighter yet, fueling myself with righteous anger at this creature that would prey upon a weakened soul. At first it tries to escape me, smoking in every direction it can think to elude my grasp, but I continue to send out more tendrils of my being to grab hold of its bulk wherever it seeks to concentrate itself. As it dwindles and is scorched away it turns to more desperate measures and flings itself at me as a concentrated mass of malignant being so that it can try to permeate my aura and use my strength against me.

  My knees give a moment at the buckling pull the creature takes from my reserves of strength, and the creature regains some its former leaching power which it uses to spread around and encompass my aural sphere, trying to bore in with twisting tendrils. Instead of fight its tug-of-war battle I draw my aura back upon myself to leave it without the energy it could use to further strengthen itself and drain me. Thinking itself already victorious the creature moves to surround my physical being and drain me to a lifeless husk, but as it draws close and fully commits itself to impending victory I re-expand my aural shell, and burn the creature to nothing. The fire of my being illuminates the area, and where before the atmosphere was dark and muddled there is only clear radiance showing through to each of the room's corners. All in the space of several minutes I fight this psychic battle of wills, but it feels like more than an hour has gone by for the drain it puts on my physical energy.

  I close off my second sight after being sure none of the creature remains to regain its strength inside of the boy's energy field and clamber off the bed, the exertion of my battle forcing me to breath heavily. As I make my way to the door I hear the boy shuffle in his bed and turn to see him staring after me.

  "What was that just now?"

  "What?"

  "I was having a bad dream, and there was this pressure in my head, but then it was suddenly gone."

  "It was just a dream. You were making noises in your sleep so I came in to check on you. It's alright now, just go back to sleep and rest easy."

  The boy stares at me a long moment in thought. "Do you believe in angels?"

  I stare back at him before answering. "I'm not sure. I suppose there could be such a thing."

  "Then are there also demons?"

  I'm almost at a loss for words for the candid clarity of the statement. "If there is one, then I guess there would be the other."

  "What happens if demons notice you then?"

  Still breathing heavy I can't help but smile. "I suppose an angel would hopefully notice them and have to make sure they couldn't do anything to hurt you. Were you having a dream about a demon?"

  The boy pauses and looks away, then shakes his head almost in confusion. "No, but it just felt so...wrong. I can't remember what the dream was now, but I was so scared, and then suddenly, it went away."

  I suppress a satisfied smile and turn back to the door. "You have nothing to worry about then, an angel must be watching over you. Sleep well, and remember to do your best to get well again. You have your whole life ahead of you, don't let this speed bump hold you back."

  Saying nothing more, and satisfied the child was answered sufficiently I leave the room, shutting the door quietly behind me.

  I continue on down the ward, slightly chagrined at the boys comparison of me to an angel, but satisfied at my job of handling his problems all the same. I keep 'listening' for  disturbances in the air around me and inside of the rooms I venture past. Even so, I am caught almost wholly off guard by a sudden surge of malignant force as I round the corner to the next set of doors.

  The hair on my arms and at the back of my neck rise as I put up my second sight, and I can see a dark and crimson eminence coming from a room at the end of the hall. Had this been what had put Rebecca so on edge? It must have been for the strength of the being creating it for it to have shocked the psychically insensitive nurse into knowing something was wrong. I shut out my second sight, not wanting to alert whatever was causing this disturbance in the air to my presence and continue on down the hall, still checking the rooms as I pass them with my normal sight, but now making sure to physically visualize each patient I pass for signs of tension or unrest.

  More than a couple of the young patients are sleeping fitfully, though in truth I can't blame them. As I get nearer to the epicenter of the atmospheric disturbance I begin to notice a sickening feeling twisting in my gut, as if wreaking carrion and not psychic disturbances are wafting in the wind. I have a sudden vision of myself, drained and twisted on the ground, dead before I know what's coming to me, and it makes my blood run cold. I stop and shake my head to clear my thoughts, looking around the hallway to see if there is anyone there. There's a sudden gust of wind that flows past my ear, beckoning the sensation of an arrow's missed flight, and I whirl to see the source of the blow to be greeted only with open air.

  I turn back around to see a little girl standing in the hallway, head down and hair covering her face. The fact that I didn't hear a door so much as creak is enough to make me set my jaw in fear, but what's more is the fact that I can see a haze of red mist swirling at the girl's feet even with my naked eye. I take a step back before the thought of retreat even crosses my brain, but reprimand my self preserving reaction and take a brazen step toward the young girl.

  There is a soft but high pitched sound coming from the girl, and at first I think she's whimpering, but as I take another step towards the patient I can hear it's not a whimper, but a soft and sinister laugh repeated again and again in a way that I can only describe as frenetic, if not downright maniacal. I stop my advance and hold stock still, as if in stillness I can evade notice, but the girl simply continues her same repetitive whispering laugh. Every ounce of sense I have is telling me to flee, to get in my car and not stop driving till the horizon and then some, but I remain facing this patient. Hoping there is something I can do to stop this wrongness from taking place.

  Steeling myself against an inner certainty that it's the worst possible mistake of my life I conjure up my second sight and realize my situation is worse than I could have possibly feared. I keep my eyes on the physical undertones of the young girl, but see rising up behind her, not some shadowy maelstrom of wrath, but a towering giant of red and twisting malice that looks like nothing so much as a demon of ancient pantheons. This metaphysical creature is the source of the red mist that transcends into our physical plane, and as it literally breathes it is as if billows of tainted smoke seethe more corruption into the air. A tear comes to my eye unbidden at this girl's horrible plight as I see how strongly this being is tethered to the girl's being. The red giant has literally interwoven itself throughout her, and inundates her inside and out.

  Never in my time of facing down creatures of predatory malice have I seen the likes of this demon, and it looks as if the creature is intent on devouring the girl's very soul. Even as I bear witness to this the girl continues her same sick laugh, grating on my nerves and reflexes as I force myself to not turn tail and escape in rational panic.

  "Melody? Are you Melody?" I speak with a quavering voice, unable to keep my tone firm in spite of myself. Her laugh ceases with such abruptness it makes me wince, as if expecting an attack.

  "Yesss, that is my name. Melody," The girl's voice is harsh and oddly pitched, as if unaccustomed to her own vocal chords. She looks up then in a jerking series of motions and stares blankly at me through a snarl of hair and twisted features. "Have you come to help poor Melody? Make the dreams go away? Have you come to help poor Melody through the tainted storm of night? Hmm? Hmm?"

  Her manner of speaking takes on a mocking sing song, not so much requesting as avowing to the utter hopelessness of any attempt at salvation. The girl starts twirling and cavorting madly around the hallway as she resumes her tirade.

  "No, this one doesn't want to help poor Melody. Cracking in his quaking bones as he sees into her depths. Melody beyond the reach of song can't hear the least request. Once did shine, once did fly, once did see into the night, but here she stands seething with the hated one's best jest." The girl stops abruptly then, and she and the red giant towering in and over her regard me with eyes full of sparking cores of utter loathing hatred. "What can the little man do here? What can the pitiful savior hope to accomplish for poor lost Melody?"

  The giant and the girl now speak as one, and rather than hear the creature's voice on waves of sound it's as if there is a bass storm speaking directly to the core of my brain, rattling my teeth with its resonance inside my head. Every doubt imaginable crosses my mind in a flash, every consequence of failure, every spiteful hated notion of self perseverance over a will to act, and still I hold my ground. I gather my will, shrug off the growing feel of unease and look up to stare the demon giant straight in the raging pits of its being.

  "Leave here now," I growl it as an utterance, my only response to the fiend's mockery. Seeing that I notice it for what it is the creature swells to fill the hallway with its form and tilts its head back while bidding the girl to do the same, barking out a thunderous laughter as the girl's vocal chords crack and shriek like the accompanying lightning.

  "It tells me to leave? To run away when there is so much time to play?" The girl is dancing like a fool as the demon swirls around her, before stopping abruptly to face me once more, spitting out its words like venomed arrows. "Try and make me."

  I feel a snarl crossing my face, the heat of my anger rising to the core, coaxing out my aura with the brash reaction of my emotions. I reign back my energy and stagger visibly under the relent of that coaxing power. The demon wreaks of it, crimson energy swirls in a cloying mist visible to my second sight. That dark cloud inundates the rooms of the sleeping children, no doubt snaking negative emotions from dreams in turmoil to bolster its own strength. Looking around now the creature's being is spread everywhere through out the halls. The creature has set up a whole network of energy sources with the most powerful medium among them as it's main source of fuel and power in this plain of existence. I can't fight it here.

  The realization doesn't help me to think of a way out of the situation at hand, so I calm myself, and bide time.  I take another approach.

  "I'm sorry oh great beast, obviously this is your domain, and no mere mortal can shuck you of the foothold you've created for yourself. Pardon this fool's anger that's taken my head completely over. I bid you be at peace, or at what you call peace at the very least. We will speak on this matter another night, when I can make such bargain as would be agreeable to a great and powerful demon such as yourself."