Emerald Mystery - Part Two

Part Two
The hospital felt empty a shadow of once a great and valuable institution of a small country town.
“So” the almost ancient male doctor looked at my wound “explain to me again”
“There was a girl on the side of the highway” I began to explain “she looked so sad like she needed help I pulled over and then-“
“Yes” he snarled “I thought I got it. I do hope you don’t make a habit of pulling over for strangers.”
“No” I replied puzzled at his reaction “I just felt compelled, as though she was my responsibility”
He laughed “Leave that to the men” before I could tell him my full opinion of this statement he changed the subject “Anyway no one should be travelling along that road-not at night. I tried campaigning to have hat dam thing closed no one listened all said I was crazy. Three nurses left not long after said this hospital was nothing but an ancient conspiracy club. Well now these old things have mostly died off anyway so have several of the staff. Doesn’t help much you know the young ones all want to go to the city.”
He at last paused long enough for me to speak “The wound will it need stitches”
For a moment he seemed confused then took a breath and spoke again “No, no, no, or maybe. Wait I haven’t had a proper look. It’s stopped bleeding.”
“Yes” I said “it did so in the car”
“You drove yourself?” He asked before answering his own question “Yes you said so earlier. Well I suppose the pressure from the towel helped. Well I’ll right you a prescription and you can be off. Now don’t go down that road again”
“Well I’ll have to” I said “I live at river road”
He looked up at me from his notebook “You live at the old Lake Motel?”
“Yeah” I replied curious how he knew that.
“No wonder she was calling for you”
“What? Who?”
“You don’t know” a slight arrogance shone through his smile “The girl you saw on the road she called for you. I’ve never known anyone to survive her before.”
“What?” This seemed to confuse me even more
“Follow me”
Under any normal situation I would not pick up a hitchhiker from the side of the road. I would also not drive with large holes in my legs. I would also not follow a stranger into a deserted hospital basement especially if it meant I had to limp.
I held onto the wall as we proceeded down the squeaking, rotting stairs. The smell of mildew hung about in the air of the dimly lit stairs. I could feel where the wallpaper had been torn and where the wall had been scratched. The doctor stood at the bottom of the staircase for a good few minutes until he found the key.
“Welcome” he said turning on a light switch “to the Emerald Falls asylum”