The Haunted Hospital

Amanda always loved urban exploration, and her latest target was the abandoned St. Mary's Hospital, a place shrouded in grim tales and local lore. The hospital, once a state-of-the-art facility, had been closed for decades after a series of mysterious deaths. Whispers of medical malpractice and ghostly retribution had kept most people away, but Amanda’s curiosity and desire for thrilling content for her YouTube channel drove her to visit.

Armed with a flashlight, a camera, and a backpack full of supplies, Amanda approached the hospital just before dusk. The building loomed ominously, its once pristine façade now cracked and overgrown with ivy. She shivered but dismissed her fear. Ghost stories were just that—stories.

As she stepped inside, the air grew cold, and the smell of mildew and decay assaulted her senses. The entrance hall was vast, with peeling wallpaper and broken tiles littering the floor. She turned on her camera and began recording, narrating her journey. Her voice echoed eerily in the empty corridors.

Amanda made her way to the old reception desk, where a thick layer of dust coated everything. She found a stack of patient records, their pages yellowed and brittle. Curious, she flipped through them and noted that many entries abruptly ended with the word “Deceased.” Chills ran down her spine, but she continued deeper into the hospital.

She reached the surgical ward, its doors hanging askew on rusted hinges. As she entered, the temperature plummeted further. The room was filled with rusty surgical tools and broken gurneys. Amanda imagined the bustling activity that once took place here, now replaced by an eerie silence.

Suddenly, she heard a faint whisper. Her heart pounded as she strained to listen. The whisper grew louder, forming words that echoed through the ward: "Why are you here?" Amanda spun around, her flashlight beam slicing through the darkness, but there was no one there.

Trying to shake off her growing unease, she pressed on. She found a stairwell and decided to explore the upper floors. As she climbed, the whispers followed her, growing more insistent. "Leave now," they hissed. Amanda’s bravado was waning, but she refused to turn back.

On the third floor, she discovered the children’s ward. Faded murals of cheerful animals adorned the walls, a stark contrast to the grim atmosphere. Tiny beds lined the room, each with its own tragic story. Amanda felt a deep sadness wash over her, mingled with an unsettling sense of being watched.

Her camera suddenly flickered and died. She cursed under her breath, fumbling to change the batteries. As she did, she noticed a figure standing at the end of the hallway. It was a woman in a nurse’s uniform, her eyes hollow and filled with sorrow. Amanda froze, unable to look away. The nurse pointed a trembling finger at her, whispering, "You shouldn't have come."

The figure vanished, and Amanda’s flashlight flickered. Panic set in, but she forced herself to move. She had to find a way out. She stumbled through the darkened corridors, the whispers now a cacophony of anguished voices. "Help us," they cried. "Avenge us."

Amanda reached the maternity ward, where rows of cribs lay abandoned. The air grew heavy, and she felt an overwhelming sense of dread. A ghostly figure of a doctor appeared, his eyes cold and unforgiving. He moved towards her, his footsteps echoing ominously. "You don't belong here," he intoned, his voice a deathly rasp.

Terrified, Amanda turned and ran. The hospital seemed to twist and turn, the exits eluding her. She found herself back in the surgical ward, where the whispers reached a fever pitch. "Justice," they demanded.

In a corner, she saw a faded newspaper clipping pinned to the wall. It detailed the scandal that had closed the hospital: a series of botched surgeries, fatal mistakes, and a cover-up that left many dead. The faces of the victims stared back at her, their eyes filled with accusations.

Amanda realized the spirits were seeking retribution for the wrongs done to them. Desperate to escape, she whispered, "I’m sorry. I didn’t know."

The whispers ceased, replaced by an oppressive silence. Amanda felt a cold hand on her shoulder and turned to see the nurse once more. Her expression was softer now, almost pleading. "Tell our story," she whispered, before dissolving into the shadows.

Amanda took a deep breath, her fear giving way to determination. She had to survive to tell the world what happened here. She retraced her steps, finding the stairwell and descending quickly. The hospital seemed to resist her escape, the corridors stretching and twisting, but she pressed on.

Finally, she burst through the entrance doors and into the cool night air. She ran to her car, her heart pounding, and drove away, glancing back to see the hospital recede into the darkness.

Safely at home, Amanda reviewed her footage. The camera had captured everything: the whispers, the ghostly figures, the palpable sense of dread. She uploaded the video, careful to include the names and stories of the victims. The video went viral, and the truth about St. Mary’s Hospital finally came to light.

Amanda never returned to urban exploration, but she felt a sense of peace knowing she had given the spirits of St. Mary’s the justice they sought. The hospital was eventually demolished, but the memory of its haunted past lingered, a cautionary tale of the consequences of unchecked malpractice and the restless spirits left in its wake.