Merry Go Round

The Annual Hospital

 Every town and every city has a place, where when near it people increase their pace. They run past the place as if they were in a race. These people from anxious baseless worries flee, they feel the childhood fears from which they thought they were free. They run because they feel the place is strange, that something lurks there out of the human world's range.

 For Mornington City that place is the old hospital. People run past the ancient building when they are near. And every single year, for one night they are reminded why they fear. Because for one night the hospital comes alive, from it a low murmur of voices arise, a buzz of energy like that of a wasp's hive. But the loudest of them all are the wailing cries, of a dead young woman whose vengeful spirit survive.

Timmy walked upon the road, upon his back his corpse brother rode, Next to him hovered his cloud now small, still too weak to bare the weight of them all, Timmy and his merry band. The cackling turnip Timmy carried in his free hand, And besides him the cat walked discontent upon the land. But as they walked Timmy began to feel faint, the earth beneath him his blood did taint. As it trickled from the open gash, created by an enemy's slash.

 The Apothecary, a former friend turned foe. Timmy had shot him and buried him in the ground below. Yet before his death the enemy had dealt one final blow. The open wound on Timmy's side, the burning agony he could no longer hide. As he walked for many a long mile, Timmy had tried to conceal the pain with a smile. But now his strained grimace did little to beguile.

"Are you okay? Do you want to rest a while?" asked the Cat concerned.

"Don't die on us my boy, we already have one corpse to us annoy." wheezed the Turnip.

BURY ME, screamed Jimmy, the corpse in question, carried on Timmy's back.

"I don't care whether its big, ugly or pretty. How much further till the next village, town or city? What I want is a place to rest, a quiet and relaxing silk nest, would be the thing I consider best. But currently I do not mind, I'd rest on any haystack we may find. For to my friends I cannot lie, I really feel like I may die." groaned Timmy, feeling the blood slowly draining from his body frail. Behind them he'd left a bloody trail.

"Well don't die here for it'll be a great pity, especially seeing as we're not far away from Mornington City. If you were to look just over that hill, your tired blood shot eyes surely will, have the most brilliant thrill, of knowing there's only one more mile until, you can rest your body tired and ill, in a hospital bed calm and still, where they'd give you everything from plasters to pill, as long as you will pay the bill." cackled the Turnip.

The moon was high and the hour was late, when Timmy finally staggered through the city gate. It was by cruel fate, or very bad luck at any rate, that lead him to that hospital which was open upon that single date. As Timmy walked blindly face creased in pain, and felt blood from his wounds slowly drain, as he walked each step a strain and felt his conscience begin to wain. By his feet his Cat with fur an obsidian black, his talking corse brother Jimmy upon his back, the Turnip hanging from his  hand like a sack and his pet cloud hovering after him in his track. Timmy saw the bright and welcome light of a building large and old, its aged sign announced in bold, "All Saints Hospital"

 They entered the hospital through its creaking double door which shrieked in aged protest as Timmy pushed it. They walked into the well lit entrance room, Timmy's shoes clicked on the polished tile floor, the walls were a pristine white. But there was not a single person in sight. Timmy, looking around at the whitewashed surroundings, wondering where everybody was. As he looked around his vision seemed to flicker for a moment, as if a breeze had blown on the candle and made its bright light dance, in that moment he saw that the walls were stained with grime and plant life climbed up its surface, crawling playfully in and out of its numerous cracks. He saw that the tiled floor was cracked and muddied where it could be seen but was for the most part obscured by leaves blown in by the wind.