Sal's face turns into a deep frown. If Brewer's dead, then maybe nobody'll come around to shut her up after all. Won't be able to sleep through with this screaming.
"Calm down, Carla. Can you tell me who's supposed to give you your meds? And/or why you didn't take them?" His bedside manner is less than pleasant, especially as he continues to scrunch is face up disdainfully at the thought of having to retrieve her file and possibly bungle around to find where they kept the medicine in this hellhole.
You recall that Brewer's office had an attached, locked storage room, which seems precisely the place that you would find these drugs.
Carla is completely unable to fathom what you're saying to her. "Why aren't you stopping them?" she sobs heartbrokenly, looking at you beseechingly.
Sal sighs heavily, and adopts a slightly mocking tone. "I'll stop them, but what I need is in another room. I'll be right back, OK?"
Standing up, he looks at Bobby and says, "Keep an eye on her. I'm gonna go back to Brewer's room and get her something to shut... calm her down."
He moves to the doorframe, turns, looks at Bobby's gun and adds, "And don't go waving that thing around everywhere. You'll embarrass yourself."
He makes his way back to the office, trying to avoid getting another eyeful of the mutilated doctor, and pulls the supply closet's door behind him. He looks around for any appropriate looking sedative.
Pharmacy vs 45%
Sal grabs a promising box and heads back downstairs, skirting around the former Dr. Brewer.
The place is eerily quiet right now - you half expect to see a pair of creepy twin girls blocking your way down the hallway, but you don't see anyone else in the hall, or even hear another sound in the building beyond the muffled screaming and crying of Carla.
Walking back into the room, Bobby has leaned against the door, looking more than just a little unnerved. "No change, doc," he says, somewhat unhelpfully - you could clearly hear her upstairs.
The medication takes effect quickly, soothing her. Her eyes go out of focus and she calmly climbs into her bed. Faster than you would have thought possible, she is asleep.
"Thank you, Nurse Robert," Sal says mockingly in response to Bobby.
With things under control (for some very skewed definitions of under control), Sal sighs. "Back to bed, then? Gotta get some rest in case we get in a Scooby Doo chase with the psychos tomorrow."
Bobby gives a nervous, humorless laugh at Sal's joke as the two of them head back towards their rooms. Bobby has gotten more and more quiet as the day's events continue to unfold, the strain clearly showing on his face. When he reaches the rooms, he turns toward his without a word, locking the door audibly behind him.
It is now about 11:30 at night - Sal decides that he probably has enough time to read at least some of Blanche's file before turning in. Her history takes up the lion's share of her report.
Apparently, years back, Blanche killed all three of her children in a "Christmas Eve Massacre" in a fit of paranoid delusions. She doesn't usually acknowledge this fact, still being convinced that they are the ones keeping her here in order to get their hands on her money; in reality, after being found legally insane, a trust fund set up by the family's attorneys keeps her here.
The report goes on to say that Blanche has shown to be extremely helpful to the staff and has proven more than capable in cooking, cleaning, and taking care of a number of chores around the place. Brewer never saw any worrying indications in all Blanche's time in the place, enough that she was trusted with a number of tasks and responsibilities. In fact -
That is as far as you read before the lights cut out and plunge your room into darkness. You hear, as though off in the distance, the sound of panicked screaming coming from outside.
"Never ends in the nuthouse, does it." Sal sits in the dark for a moment, listening to see if Bobby's mucking about and letting his eyes adjust. After a moment he'll bump about until he gets to the detective's stuff and try and find something that feels like a flashlight.
He'll wait a little longer then, assuming Bobby's not there already, knock and ask Robert if he's up for another adventure.
Digging through Baker's things, your hand grips around a small, heavy flashlight, that clicks on when you press the button. As you feel the weight in your hand, the door slams open, but the beam reveals Bobby's ashen face. Wordlessly, he looks at you with large, panicked eyes. "Th-those screams aren't coming from inside," he says quietly, almost as though he were commenting on the weather. With a moment's listening, you realize he's right.
"Great, glad Brewer's running - well, was running - such a tight ship," Sal remarks. "Let's see if we've got murder number - what's this, three? - going on here." Figuring it's better to be a crazy cowboy than a dead one, he'll take the gun he got from Brewer as well.
Sal will take a roundabout route towards any exit he's seen that heads toward the screams, stopping to look out any windows that face that way as well. He'll try to observe from as far away as possible.
Sal moves through the upstairs of the sanatorium, looking for a way to look out upon the screaming, or an exit. Retracing his steps towards the upstairs offices, he pauses outside Brewer's office. Another door down the hall would also likely have the second-floor view of the northern part of the island and hopefully be body-free, but the room hasn't been investigated yet.
"Well, let's just see what's behind door number two, shall we?" Sal says, grabbing the handle and jerking it open. "Hope we've got a nice view of whatever horrible murder's going on."
The room is dark and smells as though it hasn't been used in a while. Though it's too dark to clearly see, it isn't hard to imagine the veneer of dust that must be lying on everything in the musty room.
Sal, you recognize the equipment in here as old electro-shock therapy equipment that has apparently been locked in here to rust away. The screaming echoing from the grounds juxtaposed with these poster children of ethically dubious medical science paint a much more chilling picture of the old sanatorium.
The window to the side does show the rest of the island.
"Surprised Mad Doc Brewer didn't have anybody hooked up to these," Sal says, forcing the snark past a lump in his throat. He considers turning on the detective's flashlight, but figures he's already seen enough of what's in here without any light. He makes his way toward the window, resisting the urge to rest his hand on any of the equipment to help guide him.
Sal looks over the dark island, seeing only the soft lights of the mainland...
Except you're not looking west, this window faces north. And this light is red. And pulsing.
Something is definitely glowing faintly on the north side of the island.
"Huh," Sal grunts, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand a little straighter even as his curiosity is piqued. "Any clue what that is, Robert?" he asks even as he racks his own brain. Maybe some sort of boat light? Nah...
Know vs 60
You have no ideas as to what the light could be. Robert simply shakes his head in a terrified sort of way.
"Ah, man up a little," Sal says, clapping Bobby on the back. "We're just in a home for psychos, by psychos, listening to the soundtrack of a thousand screams, and basking in the red light of... uh, whatever that thing is." Doing his best not to shudder at what's likely to be found, he makes his way back to the door.
"Let's just get out there and have a look-see at the goings on." He runs his thumb along the grip of his pistol, hoping he won't have to use it. If it gets to hot, we'll just find Captain Ahab's dinghy and let the police handle it.
You leave the old electroshock room and head down the stairs, back into the patient wing. The occasional sounds of sleepy movements are the only signs that the 'natives' are even there - apparently the sounds of screaming isn't so abnormal that they're upset by it.
To head outside, you can either head down the patient hallway to your left, or try the singular door to your right. Based on the upstairs, the room to the right should be the end of the wing, maybe with a door outside.
"This should be the end of the building," Sal murmurs to himself as much as to Bobby. "Can't wait to have a nice stroll in the dark."
Sal opens the door to the wing, ready to click on his flashlight and have a look around.
Your light passes over a large commercial washer and dryer, a large cabinet, and a doorway devoid of a door - it lies off it's hinges, visible outside. You've found your way out.
As you step into the room, you stumble over something, propped against the washer. Sitting, staring dead ahead, mouth frozen unmoving in a silent scream, is a middle-aged woman in a maid's outfit. He upper body is in fine health, but her feet and legs are withered brown sticks - dried dead limbs split open like old and rotting leather to expose the bones within. There is no blood from these horrific injuries - your medical eye can identify some sort of cauterization.
The worst part of the scene is that you can see her still breathing.
Whatever happened, she survived.
SAN vs 79
Sal swallows hard and takes a moment to breathe deeply. "Bobby, don't look- don't look," he says as he sticks an arm out to try to prevent his companion from coming around.
Compartmentalizing everything, one part of his mind wonders just what the hell happened to the door even as the other commands his legs to click the light off and kneel down. "Ma'am," he says, putting a hand on her shoulder and trying not to look down. "Can you speak? What happened?" More questions echo through his mind - How long have you been here? What the f~~& was Brewer doing to his patients? - but he focuses on checking for signs of shock.
Medicine vs 65
Sal's intervening arm is a moment too late for Bobby to be spared - he makes a small, sad sound, but seems at this point resigned to the horrors that seem to be commonplace in the place tonight.
Maybe it's nerves, maybe it's working in the dark, or maybe it's just one more piece of the bad luck that seems to be following you - but your attempts to treat the poor maid have no effect. In your medical opinion, she will probably die by morning.
Faced with predictable silence, Sal stands up. He runs his thumb over the hammer of the late Brewer's revolver, his attempt to repress an incredulous laugh at the juxtaposition of his Hippocratic oath and what he'd want someone to do if the situation was reversed coming out as a snort.
"C'mon, Robert," he says quietly. "Nothing we can do here." Sal steps over the woman and makes his way out of the door, keeping his light low and looking around the outside. Assuming there's nothing of interest, he'll make his way towards the light.
Psychoanalysis roll
It's dark tonight - the clouds sit, blocking the stars and adding a suffocating pressure to the evening's menacing atmosphere. As you step out the broken door, your light strays across a shocking sight - a second tanned and dessicated body, this one feline in nature. Most of the fur has been scorched off of it, but it is still almost recognizable as a cat.
The flashlight also reveals a few small buildings clustered near the sanatorium, and a path that passes nearby, heading to the north of the island and curving away to the southeast. The screams are coming almost dead east of your position, separated from you by thick forest, while the light you saw from the upstairs window is to the north.
Sal starts a little at the new body, and as he recovers from the mild shock he starts to realize that the screams have almost become a background noise by now. He takes a few steps toward the path, shining a light and trying to guess if there's a better route to the screaming than crashing through the forest.
If so, he'll try and take that; if not, he starts to push his way through the brush. Either way, he says as much to himself as to Bobby, "I hope that's not a fresh victim of... whatever happened to her." He cringes a little at the thought of what kind of person would torture someone like that.
How long has this been a complete nuthouse?
Bobby swallows as though keeping himself from getting sick and nods at your words.
The forest ends a little ways south-east of the sanatorium, so the path around the southern edge of the forest seems to be the easiest way. The path climbs higher up the island, circling around and always keeping the forest on your left. The sound of the waves crashing against the tall sheer sea-cliffs adds a soothing complement to the continuing screams.
About ten minutes into your walk, the screams are coming from directly north of you. Just as suddenly as they began, however, they end.
Bobby's SP = 60
SAN vs 78
Sal creeps along the way, convincing himself to delay just a little longer, just a few more yards, just until the screams get directly north, until eventually it dawns on him that later is now never.
"F$!! this, this is way more than Brewer ever worth. His crazies can fend for themselves." He takes a few steps back the way they came. "I don't know what that light is but I'm hoping it's some sort of beacon. Let's check it out."
Sal will take the path back to where the exited the sanitorium and continue heading north.
With the screams faded away, your walk is accompanied by the natural night sounds of the island - the wind rustling the trees, the persistent beating of the waves against the cliffs, the little sounds of the local fauna. Your walk would be idyllic if it weren't for the night's events.
The road north of the sanatorium dips lower towards the see than the other side of the island, and the crashing waves get louder as you go. Eventually, the path reaches a second, smaller patch of trees, dark in the moonless night. Behind it, rising up over the trees, is the top of what appears to be a lighthouse.
You could head through the dark patch of trees, or try to go around them to the east. To the west lies cliffs and water - a foolish route.
You do notice that the light you'd seen before has gone.
Maybe that's what that light was, Sal says as he looks up at the lighthouse, not quite sure if he's just rationalizing it or if it's true.
"Wonder why that thing isn't running," Sal mutters. "Maybe turning it on'll attract some coast guard or something. And if nothing else we'll have a little more light out here."
Sal will head straight through the trees towards the lighthouse.
The lighthouse is indeed dark, rising out of the darkness with the crashing of waves behind it. Entering the empty lighthouse, all that is visible in the narrow beam of the flashlight is a stair leading up to a trap door.
Sal turns to Bobby, staring for a moment before shrugging non-commitally.
He ascends the stairs, carefully testing each one before putting his full weight on it. When he gets to the top, he fiddles with the trap door's latch for a moment before opening it. Assuming nothing falls (or jumps) out, he'll shine his flashlight through and then poke his head up to look around before entering the room.
The stairs accept your weight without any protest, but the door presents a greater issue. The initial tug doesn't open the door, and even putting his full weight on it, the door doesn't open.
"Here Doc, want me to give it a try?" Bobby asks tremulously from below Sal.
"Sure, give it a try. Age before beauty didn't work," he mumbles.
If Bobby isn't able to get it, Sal will try and give him a hand (if they can position themselves as such.)
Bobby takes Sal's place on the ladder and gives a heave-ho to try to move the door. With a solid shove, the trap door swings grudgingly up. Bobby shines his flashlight into the dark space, pausing to open his mouth. "What the -" he begins, but is interrupted by a mass of gray... something striking towards his face. With a scream that is rapidly muffled, Bobby is dragged through the aperture, kicking and screaming. The second floor begins to glow the same eerie red glow you'd seen in the distance before.
San:
Dodge:
Jump:
Attack:
SAN vs 78
"Robert!" Sal chokes out after he realizes what's happened. He takes a few careful steps backward, raising the revolver and drawing the hammer back. "Robert?"
He remains, stiff as a board, facing the gaping chasm. Assuming nothing bursts out, he'll take a few cautious steps up and try to get a view of what's inside the room. He specifically avoids standing directly underneath the ladder, even though he knows he can only get a very narrow view of the room from that vantage point.
All you are able to see is darkness and the occasional flash of what looks like red lightning in miniature. Robert does not respond.
Sal's perception seems to slow for a moment. Another flash of red jerks him out of a state of numbed disbelief. His presence of mind holds out long enough to thumb the hammer of the revolver back down before breaking into a jog down the stairs and then a sprint out of the lighthouse.
He stops before he reaches the trees, almost involuntarily turning to look at what he's left behind despite his memory babbling something about pillars of salt.
A recap, to get us both back to speed with this game:
Our protagonists arrive on North Island expecting to spend a relaxing time visiting with old friends, or taking care of fairly boiler-plate jobs. Instead, you've walked into a nightmare. You have found no one but the insane convicts alive on the island. Gruesome images of the past few hours fill your head - your friend Dr. Brewer splayed out in his office, a nurse stabbed in the living room, a maid half-burnt in the kitchen, one travel companion having his neck snapped by an attack from a patient and the other dragged kicking and screaming through a trap door by whatever has been living in the lighthouse. As far as you know, you are the only person left untouched by whatever is plaguing this island.
Things you've uncovered so far:
- Excerpt of Doctor Brewer's recent article
- A large bloody handprint in the living room
- An unfinished letter in Dr. Brewer's handwriting, a response to scathing criticism his original article received
- The most recent entry in Brewer's personal journal
- The keys to the place
- Brewer's .38 revolver
- Leonard Hawkins' (Detective Baker's murderer) messianic delusions
- Blanche Richmond's file, half-read, detailing the murder of her three grown children.
- The thing living in the light house
Patients met:
- Leonard Hawkins. Messianic delusions, violent tendencies. Killed Detective John Baker in an attack.
- Blanche Goddard. Matronly figure of the house. Highly paranoid. Killed all three of her children.
- Henry Barber III. Suicidal cross-dressing heir to a paper company's fortune.
- Colonel Billings. Incredibly old. Occasionally yells about 'the Krauts.'
- Carla Randolph. Alcohol-induced hallucinator. Sedated after paranoid hallucinatory episode.
- Darlene. Quiet. Intense.
Still here! Summer's not all too peaceful here, either, so no worries.
Sal pinches himself. The whole thing night like a manic dream, an all too realistic nightmare. He makes his way slowly back to the house, his weariness starting to overcome him. At least I can fight back against the crazies.
As Sal collapses, dark dreams overcome him, filled with screams and crackling red light. The night passes uneventfully in his locked room.
Morning dawns on the asylum to reveal a hazy day, humid and uncomfortable. The night's dreams prove difficult to shake off, and the images of crackling red light and the screams of the doomed flash through Sal's mind throughout the morning.
The room is dim, the sun facing another end of the house and your window facing north - but flicking the light switch reveals that whatever thwarted your electricity a few days ago hasn't gone yet.
Re-reading Blanche's file in the scant light...
Apparently, years back, Blanche killed all three of her children in a "Christmas Eve Massacre" in a fit of paranoid delusions. She doesn't usually acknowledge this fact, still being convinced that they are the ones keeping her here in order to get their hands on her money; in reality, after being found legally insane, a trust fund set up by the family's attorneys keeps her here.
The report goes on to say that Blanche has shown to be extremely helpful to the staff and has proven more than capable in cooking, cleaning, and taking care of a number of chores around the place. Brewer never saw any worrying indications in all Blanche's time in the place, enough that she was trusted with a number of tasks and responsibilities. In fact -
...she has been given a full set of keys to the place, as a reward for her constant reliability and to aid in her daily duties.
Blanche's file finished, you leave your room on the second floor. The beautiful foyer is especially radiant in the morning light, though the stillness of the place remains eerie. Without Bobby's footsteps following behind you, the sound of your feet upon the curving stairs sounds even louder.
Walking through the double doors in the east wall of the foyer, you arrive at what appears to be a quiet study spot of some kind. A wooden desk and chair sit, occupied by a younger male in nursing scrubs. He slumps in the chair, head twisted around to face backwards, hanging at an unnatural angle. Your trained medical eye recognizes that no one could live with a neck broken like that.
SAN (vs 77)
Sal grimaces, hoping that wandering around unarmed wasn't as bad a plan as it looked to be.
He approaches the desk, looking around to see if there are any clues - bloody handprints, perhaps? - or any other patients tottering about.
Spot Hidden (vs 60)
The desk has papers, pens, a reference book or two - but nothing incriminating. You do recognize that it would take an incredible amount of strength to turn a human head like that - much more strength than you would expect from any of the inmates you've seen.
Sal grimaces as it dawns on him just how unusual the man's injury is. He swallows hard, but after one last cursory glance he continues along the wing.
Won't be long until I belong here.
The walk down the hallway is uneventful. You pass a labeled storage closet and bathroom, and 5 bedrooms.
The first on your left shows signs of being lived in and well kept, but no one is in it at the moment. The second has Colonel Billings quietly sitting in his wheelchair, staring at a point past the wall and drooling slightly. The third appears vacant and unused.
On your right side, you pass young Henry Barber taking a nap on his bed, and Mrs. Randolph's room. She sits quietly watching the sanatorium grounds out her window, and barely bats an eye at your passing - presumably your late-night sedation remains effective.
Walking through the laundry room where the dessicated and now-deceased body of the maid still lies and heading down into the basement, you lose the natural light of the upstairs hallway and are forced to turn on the flashlight - the lights have still not been restored. Investigating doors, one by one, you find a supply closet filled with tools and paint on the east end of the hallway; a pair of boilers facing each other on the north and south walls; a cobwebbed and disused restraint room on the north side, next to another vacant patient room; and a bathroom on the south side.
Finally you come across a room with a lived-in look on the south side - but no one is in at the moment. Quiet, subdued woman's clothing hangs neatly on the wall hooks, but nothing reveals exactly who the owner is.
The adjacent room is locked, and you can hear the muttering of a voice you recognize as Leonard - the man who accidentally killed Detective Baker.
Across the hall from Leonard's room, your flashlight reveals a hellish scene. A man lies huddled in the corner, streaked with blood. The room smells sharply of blood - it is spread on the man and across the wall. Smeared and smudged, the blood on the wall clearly was put there purposefully - at least at first.
The stink and horror of the room clouds your mind, rendering what you should or may know unable to be brought to mind right now.