Suzanne thrust the knocker into the door weakly, the poorly kept trail had taken most of her energy. Two people exited the door next to her, one was a very well dressed man and the other a woman in a nurse’s uniform.

“Oh, hello there!” The man said, his eyes bright and cheerful. “I am Jan-Douwe Louwes and, this is Joan Pettwoode.”

“I am Suzanne Koval. Delighted to make your acquaintance.”

“Ahah! So you are the new recruit. Joan is in charge of affairs while I am away, so do please seek her out for any assistance you might need.”

Joan nodded and Jan-Douwe departed. His car was rather extravagant, much better looking than the ones in the tiny town. He waved to them as he disappeared behind the trees. Suzanne was disappointed as she watched him leave, she had been hoping to ask him about his medical studies. Joan cleared her throat, obviously dissatisfied with her lollygagging.

“Oh dear, pardon me!” She exclaimed as she scrambled to enter the building.

The building’s exterior had been gigantic, taking up most of the expansive land it was built upon, but the entrance hall was just as humongous. It was a large empty room with two grand staircases on either side of the long hallway in between. Joan lead her down the hall at a brisk pace, making her welts and bruises scream in protest. They passed by the kitchen as other nurses bustled out with carts overflowing with clay bowls full of an unappealing off yellow mush. The room next to it was stuffed with white sheets, one woman held a sheet stained with something that looked like blood out from her in disgust. Idle chatter filled the stone hall with its pleasant nature, adding an inviting tone to the otherwise ominous feeling the asylum emanated.

At the very end of the hall was a very large ironclad door. Joan produced a large keyring from somewhere in the endless expanse of her apron and unlocked the door. It sounded like a vault, the turning mechanisms’ clattering absorbed the noise of the other nurses, forcing a near silence around its grand opening. A small breeze of flower scented air brushed past her as the seal around the door released. A small room full of cupboards brimming with bottles was the first of many rooms in the long corridor. A woman that resembled Suzanne lay on a cot with the side of her face bandaged, her brows knit tightly in pain. The woman’s breath was shallow, practically in a hyperventilating fashion, each exhale accompanied by a whimper. Suzanne brushed her own cheek absentmindedly, her eyes growing wider the longer she stared. She balled her hand into a fist to hide her horror, looking away as she was unable to bare the disturbing images flooding her mind.

Joan stopped in front of an empty room, “This will be your home.” She said, gesturing to the simple bed and dresser. The small window above the dresser was barred, although it appeared to still be operational.

“Thank you.” Suzanne said gratefully.

Joan pointed to the clothing that had been neatly placed on the bed. “Be ready in one hour.”

“Yes Ma’am.”