Inside the small employee lounge and safely out of the storm, Jason Row sat at a small table, a cup of steaming coffee set in front of him. Dressed in an orderly outfit that was two sizes too big for him, the wide eyed rookie changed from a pale to green complexion with each roll of thunder. Jason moved a shaky hand toward the coffee mug, nearly knocking it over when Mack gave him a rough pat on the shoulder.
“Easy there kid. Everyone has a tough first night here so don’t feel too bad.”
Jason forces a smile and nod as Mack sat down across from him. Leaning back in his chair, Mac lets out a contented sigh before bringing his own mug to his lips. The coffee went down like hot sludge but at least it kept a man awake and warm on these long night shifts. Lowering his mug again, Mack looked across the table at Jason and offered a light smile.
“Ya know, it’s always the same story. People answer the ad in the paper because they think this here is some easy money. That they can get paid for simply sitting around here all night watching the late shows and midnight movies. Then again, that’s what the people running the office want you to think. Would you have taken this job if you knew the truth about it? Of course not. That’s why they don’t tell you what to really expect. They just shake your hand and send you on over. Hell, I bet they didn’t even bother to tell you about the history of this place, did they?”
Jason listened in silence, looking down into the deep dark tar like coffee in the mug before him. He could almost feel as if it were trying to pull him down and drown him beneath the murky surface. A bolt of lightning lit up the windows as Mack asked him a question, ripping his gaze from the mug of death, he simply shook his head no.
“Ah well of course they didn’t. Well the first thing you got to realize is that many, many years ago the Sacred Heart was a home for unwanted children. Yes this place was just full of them too. Kids of all ages were forced to live here and the clergy that ran the place were tasked with taking care of them till they could find permanent homes for all the boys and girls. It wasn’t such a bad place to grow up in the beginning, but then one night, a night such as this, there came a pounding at the doors. When the old head priest got there he found a child on the steps. Now as the story goes this was no simple ordinary child. It had long matted unruly hair, torn out in place by god knew what. It was dirty and disheveled and looked as if it had been left in the deepest darkest places in the woods for most of its life. And yet the priest brought it in, mistaking it for one of God’s children.”
Mack paused a moment, taking a sip of his coffee as he watches Jason sit rigid across from him, eyes watering as he had yet to blink them since the start of this history lesson.
“The kid seemed harmless enough. For the first year he spent his days and nights in his room, wouldn’t even come out to eat. When they came to feed him they would always find him sitting in the darkest corner of the room, rocking back and forth, muttering to himself and slowly ripping out clumps of hair. Once that first year was up the priest decided that it was time to give him a roommate, thinking that perhaps a kid his own age could bring him back around. It started to work at first, the kid was emerging from his room every now and then. The two boys became friends and soon were inseparable. But of course all things come to an end and it came with the kid’s friend was adopted.”
Jason had hung his head as Mack told the story. He had closed his eyes, watching the story come to life within his own head as Mack provided the words of narration.
“The kid withdrew more and more with each passing day. Three years after his breakdown the Sacred Heart had its funding pulled. All of those kids were being sent out to other orphanages that would take them but no one would take the boy. When it came down to the day that everyone had to vacate the building, the old priest returned for the boy but he never came back out. Nobody knows exactly what the boy did to the priest, but the fire he set destroyed the evidence as well as gutted this building. They caught the boy a week later but they couldn’t determine what to do with him. Finally it was decided that he was not mentally stable to withstand trial and after Sacred Heart reopened as the nut house it is today, they threw him in here and tossed away the key. He’s been here ever since, locked up down in the basement. No longer a kid, he is a sick and twisted man that should never be released into this world.”
Jason didn’t want to believe it, there was no way that this was a true story. It was local legend, an urban myth, something to tell kids around the campfire. The storm outside was passing them by, the lightning fading into the distance. Jason jumped out of his chair, knocking it back and it clatters to the floor, the harsh old fashioned ring of the rotary phone mounted to the wall catches him by surprise. Looking around, Mack is no where to be seen. Then again why would he be? He was just the figment of Jason’s over active imagination. Taking a deep breath, Jason takes two steps to the wall, answering the phone. Beneath his feet, in the basement of the old building, a figure sits in a dark corner, rocking back and forth, fingers gripping and pulling handfuls of hair as the man mutters to himself.
“E…B…W…F…E…B…W…F.”