I screamed.
Her lifeless blue eyes stared back at me, unblinking.
Someone had dressed Ashlea in the older woman’s sundress, hat, and gloves and swapped the older woman’s body for hers, practically hiding her death in plain sight.
But where was the older woman?
Dane came running, followed by Ashton, Stacey, Kelsey, and Bobby, and was tailed by Dylan.
I had pushed Ashlea’s body off me, so she now lay on the floor staring up at the ceiling frozen with her hands in front of her in a demure pose. Her legs were bent as if she was still sitting in the chair.
“Oh, my fucking God!” exclaimed Kelsey.
“Oh shit. Ashlea!” cried Dylan, running over to crouch beside her. He shook her, then pulled her into his lap. They had only recently begun to date too.
“Darcie, are you okay? What happened?” asked Dane, pulling me into him. I was on my feet now but still staring down at Ashlea’s lifeless body at my feet. He held me while stroking my back.
“I… I don’t know. I was just walking by, but I tripped on an empty bottle and then I fell on her. I thought it was the old woman, but then Ashlea was staring back at me from the old woman’s body…” I was shaking now.
“It’s okay. Guys, I think we need to call the cops and leave,” said Dane.
“I’ll call my dad,” Bobby said.
Everyone almost forgot Bobby’s dad was the sheriff in town. We all nodded, and Bobby walked out of the room to call his father.
While we waited, I tugged Dane aside to speak to him quietly.
“She’s missing,” I told him.
“Who?”
“Wendy. She wasn’t in the room we put her in. And the old woman in place of Ashlea’s body is gone too.”
Dane looked around with fear and concern on his face.
“O…kay. That’s bad. And creepy.”
Bobby came running back in.
“Guys, my dad’s coming, and he’s bringing backup. He told us not to touch anything else and wait outside.”
Kelsey had been standing beside Dylan near Ashlea’s body. She stood up and walked over to us.
“What are we going to tell them? They’re gonna think we killed Ashlea,” she said.
“Don’t worry,” said Bobby. “We say we got drunk, and we were making out and dancing, among other stuff. You know, partying. And we didn’t see or hear anything. I think our parents finding out we snuck into the insane asylum to have a party is the least of our problems right now. But it’s the truth.”
While the others headed outside to wait for the police to arrive, I ran through the hospital in search of the real reason I came here tonight. I had told Dane I was coming, but seeing as he was distracted, helping Kelsey and Dylan, and consoling them, I snuck back inside and away from the group.
I made my way to the opposite side of the hospital, away from where we had thrown our little illegal soiree and headed into one of the treatment rooms.
I had a gut feeling I would find my answer in one of the three treatment rooms.
And I was right.
In the second one, strapped to one of the tables by her arms and legs, was Wendy.
She was alive and looking around the room with a frightened expression on her face.
When she saw me, her eyes widened, and she began to laugh like before—the way she always did with me.
I stood before her and crossed my arms over my chest.
“Well, isn’t this poetic,” I said. “The abuser becomes the victim.”
“Hello, you little witch. I always knew you’d show your face again soon. You can’t help yourself, can you?”
“Just like you. But it seems you received your just desserts at last. The same punishment you used to dish out to the children under your so-called care.”
She cackled.
I glanced over at the wall of shiny metal surgical instruments and grabbed a scalpel blade.
I walked toward her, holding it in front of me.
“Who did this to you and the others?”
“Darcie, Darcie, Darcie. Little Witch.” She sneered. I hated how she used to say my name, hated how she said it even now. It was like dirt in her mouth. She practically spat it out like poison. “You know. You’re a smart girl, too smart for your own liking. That’s why I had to do what I did.”
“Shut up!” I told her. “You choked me, whipped me, abused me. Beat me. Tied me to the bed. Starved me, as you did to all the other children. You don’t belong here. You belong in hell.”
She cackled again, but this time louder.
“It’s better than being out there.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“With the killers.”
“Killers?” Darcie gasped. “As in more than one?”
There was a loud bang, and then several voices shouted in the distance, followed by footsteps.
“Get out of here while you still can, Darcie.”
I looked at her, dropped the scalpel on the floor, and ran out of the room.
I didn’t know whether she meant out of this place or out of this town.