ACT V
September 13th 2013, 7:45 am, my apartment
They let me out of the hospital this morning at seven. I was prepared to leave until I was stopped by the police who had a few questions for me.
Apparently even when you are scheduled to die today you still don’t get a day off.
The police had pulled me into a small room that was one of the head doctor’s office and I was seated in a small semi-pink/tan room that had belonged to one of the pediatricians here.
The place reeked of medicine, printed paper, coffee, and rubber gloves.
I sat in a metal chair across form two officers, one male and one female, probably in their thirties and in full uniform. What felt a bit weird was knowing the fact of what really happened back at John’s and having to leave parts of the story out, knowing that they will not believe me if I told them about Joseph or the Five day warning.
While I am sitting down the cops stand up and stare at me while they ask questions and almost never let me out of their vision.
Here’s how the interview went.
The tall bearded officer addressed me first:
“I’m sorry we had to pull you out like that but we have to ask you a few questions.” He stated
I sighed and responded, “Okay, what do you need to know?” I say. “Well-“started the female officer. “What were you doing there just out of curiosity?” She asks. “I came by to ask for some overtime, possibly a raise.” I responded. This did after all start with me asking exactly that.
By the way, fuck overtime.
The woman officer looked over to the male officer and the male officer continued. “So how did you come into contact with the killer? Or even see what happened?” Okay this part I had to lie about.
“Yes there was an escaped patient from the asylum that we worked at…” I start, “I uh, I witnessed him cut John in half from the waist with an antique sword from Stone-Brooke Asylum and-“ I stop and gulp as I remember the scene and just mutter to myself.
There was just so much blood; I could remember the slicing and tearing of flesh as the sword gracefully and quickly slit John’s body in half.
The blood and the tendons and bones just crushing under the pressure of the antique blade that should not have ever been allowed in the asylum. I could even envision the Satan-possessed Joseph/ Gregory attack John’s heart and soon enough his soul.
I snap out of my vision by being shaken up by the female officer. “Hey sir, snap out of it!” She shook both my shoulders and I jolt out of my vision. “W-what?” I stutter.
“What does that mean?” The man asks.
“What do you mean?” I ask in confusion. “What does ‘erit in laqu-‘ something? I don’t know what you said?” Fuck I was saying it aloud now, that goddamn phrase: erit in laqueum diaboli, et in iis, qui sine anima est animae.
I immediately got up and said I wasn’t feeling well and they reluctantly understood, after me rambling about how my head hurt they decided to let me go home.
Before I left they said they wanted to schedule a meeting sometime in the future. I personally don’t think there will be a future. Not saying that I don’t want to be interviewed, I just know that tonight… may be my last night on Earth.
September 13th 2013, 10:00 am, my apartment.
Fuck… I literally have no idea as to how I am gonna face him. Jesus I don’t even know what to do.
I guess I will just think real quick.
Ok, what DO I know about Joseph/Gregory/Satan?
Okay, He is the devil. He is also Joseph Stone-Brook who sold his soul to get rid of the suicidal souls of the asylum to the devil. The souls probably went to hell and the devil took a hold of Joseph’s body as an opportunity to walk the earth.
Then there was John who was elected by a great cult (who were stupid as hell) to keep watch over the devil and place him in the asylum. With holy water covering the walls he managed to keep the devil at bay.
But then John was punished for not obeying Satan and in response the devil branded John with that gigantic burned mark which healed rather quickly. Wait, now that I mention it, it was completely gone when we were at his home.
Wait a minute I remember the phrase still: erit in laqueum diaboli, et in iis, qui sine anima est animae.
The devil will take the souls of those who keep trapped the soulless.
Was Joseph the soulless? But wait then John had said … Holy fucking shit! Joseph is the soulless and he was without a soul after five days. That is what John said.
Okay so the heart is the soul; that is why Joseph- or the Devil- always goes for the heart and that is what that bright light that came from John’s heart was, (and my dream heart apparently).
Once Joseph ate the heart he consumed the soul of a human being… specifically the soul of those that help to keep the devil imprisoned. Which also means something else:
In order to keep the devil from killing me I have to kill him.
Because if the devil is imprisoned and he is after those who keep him concealed inside Joseph, then Josephs body needs to die in order to release him. I know it sounds stupid but it seems like the only way to survive.
Plus if the soul really does reside in the heart then Satan must have made his home inside Joseph’s heart.
That settles it… I will have to pierce Joseph’s heart in order to escape certain death.
I hope this helps.
The last thing I want right now is to die trying.
September 13th 2013, 8:00 pm, Stone-Brooke Asylum –possible final entry-
Ok, I think I may win this one.
I kind of over-prepared myself here.
So immediately after figuring out what to do, I quickly rush to find anything I could use as a weapon against the devil himself.
I even went through my father’s box of things he left in his will. It was located in my hall closet underneath all my high school stuff. After I snuffed it out I set it on the carpet floor of my apartment and rummaged through it while on my knees.
I had found a silver cross that was about the same size as my hand. My father was a pastor and well- I don’t want to write about it but there were some dark day’s that kinda led me to my disbelief in God for a while and I don’t know what to make of this cross other than it being a reminder of my pain.
But I am to shove those memories away and now find new meaning in this silver cross; I was now forced to find my only true salvation from the beast; who oddly enough, hasn’t so much as tried to write in my journal today let alone whisper in my ear. So I grabbed the cross along with my late father’s paperback brown leather bible.
As I walk away from the box of other bad memories of my late father I accidentally hit the box with my foot; then I hear a rattling in the box, almost like a glass bottle. Dad never had any glass objects given to me but I guess I must have missed something
I got back down on my knees and rummaged through it again. Then to my astonishment was a small bottle (not a vial but an actual hand-sized bottle) of holy water. To me it looked like a vial of plain water till I saw an old piece of paper attached
to it by an old piece of tape. It read:
Pastor Donally,
We thank you for your services and if you would so kindly accept this gift from the church as a token of our appreciation we would be most thankful. Here is a bottle of sacred holy water that has been blessed by our priests and was used during ceremonies of blessings performed by the church.
May you find God’s light in times of darkness and never be lost in the shadows.
Sincerely,
The staff of Saint Mary’s Cathedral and Joseph Stone-Brook
My heart sank when I read this.
Saint Mary’s hospital… Saint Mary’s Cathedral… Joseph Stone-Brook even had a charity with the cathedral to build Stone-Brooke Asylum. Shit I should have seen this; we were sponsored by Saint Mary’s… what the hell?
There was obviously more to the story so I checked the internet for more on Stone-Brooke asylum and Joseph Stone-Brooke.
It turns out that before the satanic possession of Joseph he had started a charity in order to build the asylum. The charity was for the mentally ill people of America. Now I take it that my Dad must have been given the bottle during his younger pastor days when he was 20 years old.
After all, my father outlived my mother and he lived to be 98 and died when I was 30 in 2002.
I was born in 1972 and I know that sounds weird but mom and dad were strictly religious and it took them a while to have a kid.
Anyways I guess before Joseph sold his soul he must have been a very well-known member of the church.
But what struck me as strange is that Joseph’s name was specifically on this bottle, had my dad been close to Joseph? I don’t know but I took the holy water anyways and I had found my switch blade that I had since I was 19 and I had dipped the thing in holy water. Hopefully this would have given me an edge when piercing Satan’s heart.
Ok, now I am ready.
I just hope that my faith will take me somewhere.
Because ever since my father died I had felt that God had abandoned me. I guess at some point we all have felt some sort of abandonment from him.
I guess that’s just something that happens in life you know?
Like imagine if you were to lose someone close to you; imagine yourself thrashing and yelling, even swearing at God because you were under the impression that he had took that person away from you.
In all the same time I guess that was what made me a non-believer in the first place. I had thought that God wanted to punish me with the loss of my father. Though he beat me and was cruel he was still my father and I loved him. Once he was gone I had despised religion.
But now that after all that has happened I realize that it was not God who had taken him away.
It was the exact opposite; for the devil took him.
Even somewhere in the bible it states that Satan hates those who are God’s allies and he would often times try to take them and corrupt them. My father must have been on that list and now he was gone.
Tonight I am doing this, not for my life but for my father and for everyone that the devil has claimed as his victim.
Tonight hell will be unleashed unto the world and I am to stop it from roaming the earth any longer.
Tonight I will most likely die.
But If I am to die, let this be a written confession to both God and anyone who gets a hold of this journal:
I believe in God now, I wish I always had but the sad truth is I hadn’t. But after the events that I have been through within the last five days, I can now say I believe.
After spending my whole life searching for meaning and purpose and just overall happiness, I finally realize that I was blind to not see it in God.
I know very well, that after tonight’s events I will either end up in heaven or hell. But either or I will be happy with what I will do tonight. I am going to stop the devil himself from roaming the earth any longer.
It was a mistake made by my boss and others to keep Joseph Stone-Brook in a cell at that Godforsaken asylum. But we all make mistakes and sometimes it is up to others to correct these mistakes.
Let everyone know that my belief will either aid me in my battle or within the afterlife. And I am happy to have gone into battle with my new found belief. And I will not be afraid to face the most imminent death knowing that I will now have God.
Hopefully he didn’t really abandon me… maybe he was just waiting for the right moment to come into my life.
Oh God if you hear me now, I am sorry for what I have said or done. But I will end this evil tonight or die trying.
I know I said before that I don’t want to die trying but now I see that it may be the only way.
After this journal entry I will not write anymore. I will leave you to assume that I have killed Satan’s vessel and he now burns in hell once more. And if not then that is all for you people who are now living to decide what to do about Joseph Stone-Brook.
I will have no will or anything, just this journal of the last five days to become my final testament.
Goodbye.
September 14th 2013, 6:00 am, Joseph’s cell
I don’t know how to explain this, but I did it. I actually got him.
It was incredible it was exhilarating and everything but above all it was haunting and probably the bravest and most stupidest thing I’ll ever do.
I guess I should start explaining.
After I had written my testimony I drove to the asylum. As I was greeted by the orange leaved trees that surrounded the asylum I had felt a chill down my back. I was very uneasy and very nervous. I was all of these things even before the chill but this set of feelings was different. Then as I pulled into the dirt road that led to the usually-guarded gate, I noticed something odd.
There were no guards, the gate was wide open and so were the many gates after that. Hell, one gate was even yanked off its hinges. Shit, I knew this meant trouble.
I continued driving and my headlights shined ahead and onto the asylum. The parking lot had contained at least two or three cars but that was it.
As I parked I glanced at the full moon within the night sky. It was a clear night. Possibly the most beautiful light I will ever lay my eyes upon. So I savored the beauty of it for a bit. After a while I left my car with the knife, my silver cross, and my dad’s bible along with my small bottle of holy water in my pocket. I held the bible and cross together with my left hand (my non-fighting hand) and the knife with my right (Fighting hand)
I slowly walk, feeling fear in every step. I come to the large 8-foot tall front door and find it to be wide open and nothing but darkness had been there. Then that’s when I saw the florescent lights flicker on and reveal the asylum’s lobby.
Within that moment I saw blood and bodies everywhere. Organs and intestines along with ripped-off skin and broken bones had covered the floor. Blood splattered the walls and the ceilings as well. Each body had their chest ripped wide open or punched into… all of their hearts were missing.
To my best guess, I would say Satan had a little feast in here.
The bodies laid there in piles and all of them were still fully clothed. I recognized them as some of my friends and co-workers. Along with few of them I had noticed a couple of patients in a couple of piles. Fuck, I was so sick. I almost threw up but I had contained myself. I then stepped into the asylum and there I was in the dimly lit murder scene.
I continue to walk further into the asylum and toward the elevator within the middle of the room. Along the side of the walls I had noticed that the knight that was wielding a sword in the corner of the lobby was missing a sword… guess that’s where Joseph had obtained a sword, and possibly slaughtered his victims.
I continue toward the elevator. The silver doors were framed by the Victorian stone carved entrance and had a silver panel next to it with two buttons vertical from each other. Left button was up, the right button was down. (Yes this godforsaken place has a basement.)
I was hesitant but I clicked the up button and the elevator dinged open and the silver doors part to let me into the surprisingly clean elevator. Thankfully, there was no blood or guts or half-eaten hearts in this elevator. He must have taken the stairs.
I step in with my arsenal at the ready and under my breath I recite a prayer that my father had taught me when I was little. Oddly enough, I remember it very well.
“The Lord is my shepherd I shall not be in want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures.
He leads me along still waters.
He restores my soul.
He leads me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.
Even though I walk in the valley of the shadow of death I shall fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head in oil; my cup overflows.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me throughout the days of my life.
And I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”
After I rehearsed this to myself I opened my eyes to hear the elevator ding and the doors don’t sling open for at least a whole minute.
“It’s gonna take more than a few bible verses to cast me out, Jason” Whispered Joseph in my ear from behind me. I didn’t turn around, but looked straight at the
silver doors in front of me. I knew he was just a voice; another illusion used just to trick me.
“I know. But I will throw your ass back to hell if I have to.”
“You couldn’t if you tried.” He countered.
“You will be imprisoned once again and this time not by the people of this asylum.”
I then heard him cackle softly. “Why the change of heart Jason?” He started.“You used to hate God, what made you come begging on your knees with your dick tucked between your legs?” He made me angry but I resisted turning around.
“Because I would rather be on his side than yours; now if you would excuse me I have to go and kill you.” I said in a matter of factly tone. He laughed then started again.
“Well then, what are you waiting for? I’m right behind you.” He cackles.
“No you are not; you are just a voice you are still in your cell.” Just then the elevator doors opened to reveal dozens of patients from their cell’s on the hallway floors, screaming and thriving in agony as they are covered on blood and open wounds. Some of them even had missing limbs and few of them lay there dead with their blood spread across the walls, floors and ceiling of the halls. Hell, even the florescent lights had some blood on them.
“What the hell?” I exclaim in horror, my eyes wide with terror. Just then I felt a hand on my shoulder. I froze and then I heard him whisper once more. “No… not yet.” Just then, with my knife at the ready I reach around and slice at Joseph’s chest.
This time he was shirtless and only had pants so I made definite skin contact. The switchblade created a large gash into his terribly pale and black veined skin. He let out a loud screech of pain as the wound had sizzled loudly and released black blood. He was thriving in agony and his dark round eyes turn a blood red as he holds his head in pain.
I take this opportunity to start to stab him, perhaps even weaken him. A few victims of the massacre in the hallway that were still alive were shouting at me to kill him so I continued stabbing him.
Over and over, wound after gruesome wound I kept stabbing him; it didn’t occur to me that my goal was to get his heart but I was too angry to focus on my original plan.
The multiple wounds to his body had sizzled so much I swear they could have started a fire. He continuously shrieked in agony piercing my very eardrums but I didn’t care. I just wanted to see him in pain. Black blood continued to spill on the floor and then suddenly he stopped screeching and falls flat on the floor below me.
Now here I am sitting in the halls with all the patients who surprisingly dropped
dead after I killed Joseph. Lucky I always carry my journal. It was a pocket journal with its own personal pen, so why not?
Now that he’s dead I no longer- wait a minute.
I just noticed that I did stab Joseph’s heart. Like multiple times, looks like I really did go according to my plan.
Huh, you know it’s very strange it all seemed a little too easy; you would think Satan would try a little harder to not be killed or at least have his plan ruine-
Fuck, Joseph’s body is gone.
Holy shit I just heard his cell door from across the hallway slam shut.
I am going to check to see if he really is dying or not. I literally cannot walk out of here assuming I killed him and he is just writhing in pain in that room.
Okay here goes nothing.
–
Oh fuck, oh fuck oh fuck.
No time to write just fucking hide.
–
Oh god, I was wrong, I was so fucking wrong.
If anyone finds this then my plan has failed. Please don’t go looking for me. Don’t go looking for Joseph. Don’t even attempt to investigate this or anything that has to do with Joseph Stone-Brooke.
In fact, if you find this journal, BURN IT.
Don’t even take a second look at it. Just fucking BURN IT. Give me at least that
before I die tonight.
Oh no, I hear him coming, he’s here… he’s
–
erit in laqueum diaboli, et in iis, qui sine anima est animae.
You should have listened Mr. Donally.
Goodbye.
DETECTIVES LOG – STONE-BROOK MASACRE #1
June 26, 2014 1:58 pm
This is the journal of employee and orderly of Stone-Brook Asylum: Jason Dietrich Donally.
His whereabouts are unknown to this day.
The reports say his body was assumed to be one of the many disfigured and massacred victims of those that were found dead within the halls of the asylum. Mr. Donally however, was not found amongst the carnage, yet his journal remained. I have obtained this journal from the evidence locker today and I am one of the only two people who have read it.
This Journal contains entries which describe that last five days that he had been working with an unknown fugitive at Stone-Brook Asylum. This fugitive however was not found within the database in the FBI, CIA, or Homeland Security. It is rather odd that Gregory “The Cannibal” Richards was everything but real.
At least to the database of course.
But I must confess there are certain reports on the grave robbery of Joseph Stone-Brook, which suggests that a cult and its leader by the name of John Duran who was reported dead since 1956 was more than involved with Joseph Stone-Brook’s grave robbery. John’s son however, was the one who was supposedly killed by this Gregory Richards. His name was John Duran Jr. the suffix wasn’t very public so automatically he was assumed Sr. instead.
The phrase: erit in laqueum diaboli, et in iis, qui sine anima est animae.
Which was in the journal is real too but it seems as though everything Jason had mentioned about it being popular had been wiped clean from the internet. We did a mass search and found nothing. No cults, no blogs, nothing.
But these loose ends and strange twists and turns are not what have bothered me.
I have looked into the theory of a human heart containing the soul and it kind of adds up.
And I looked even deeper and found that Jason’s father was in the church missionary at twenty-years old and was an old friend of Joseph Stone-Brook.
The mass suicide did happen as well. For some odd reason half the asylum simultaneously committed suicide by slitting their wrists or their throats. This had led to the deterioration and failing health of Joseph Stone-Brook. Shortly after the suicide there have been reports of paranormal activity and apparitions of the mass suicide patients which were reported to even the police as well.
The craziest thing of them all is that five days prior to the apparition reports were filed; Joseph Stone-Brook had died.
I know it is all probably one big coincidence, and it should probably be disregarded. But I am a detective and it is my job to not believe in coincidence.
Oh, excuse me my cell phone rang.
Sorry that was my partner, Sterling. He told me to examine the journal carefully for some odd reason; I just don’t know what his big deal is with this damn thing.
I know that it was some very important evidence over a year ago but that doesn’t mean he has to get on my ass about it.
Huh, I just looked at the back cover of the journal: there’s something written in Latin or something.
It says: Quinto Dies
Let me look at it real quick online.
Five Days.
THE END.
Hey guys, thanks for reading FIVE DAYS, a little short story series I put together that was inspired by my many hours spent researching insane asylums and cults. No these events are not real and any persons or locations depicted in these stories are fictional and any similarities between this stuff and reality is PURELY a coincidence.
Still its pretty fucking creepy so please like share and follow me and here are the links to the other parts to Five days is your not fully caught on:
All Acts: https://oc950.wordpress.com/?s=Five+days+act+I
Sincerely, Hells Reject. (PS sorry this post was late, I am a busy man.) 😉
Hells Reject 