Death Ward 13

By Todd Nunes

It's 1973, and deep within the secluded, treacherous mountains, amidst a relentless storm, the infamous Stephens Sanitarium for the Criminally Insane stands on the cusp of being shuttered forever. Lured into working a night shift, four rookie nursing students are charged with supervising the remaining inm

• Language: English
• Publisher: Slash-Back Books
• Release date: Feb 1, 2024
• ISBN: 9798868953453

Todd Nunes

Originally from the San Francisco Bay Area, TODD NUNES began writing and directing at an early age. While still in high school, Todd produced and directed his own horror-related stage and video productions, and immediately after graduating, founded the theatrical production company Benicia Stage Productions. In Los Angeles, Todd studied screenwriting at UCLA's Writers' Program and produced an original two-act play at UCLA's Theater Underground. After graduating with honors from The Los Angeles Film School, his thesis film Two Brothers was accepted by The Short Film Festival of Los Angeles and chosen to be the festival's Official Selection. An avid and lifelong fan of horror films, Todd's impressive collection of films and knowledge of the genre inspired him to write more than six feature-length horror screenplays. For the past six years, Todd wrote a Halloween Haunted House attraction in the Los Angeles area, and in 2013, he completed his first horror feature, Scary Larry, as writer, director, and editor. In 2015, Todd wrote and directed the award-winning Santa slasher All Through the House. The film received 19 festival nominations and six awards, including Best Director (Hardcore Horror Fest, Chicago, IL); Audience Choice Award, Best Editing, and Best Slasher (RIP Film Festival, Hollywood, CA); and Best Local Feature (Another Hole in the Head Film Festival, San Francisco, CA.

Book preview

1

CHARLOTTE AND TESS

A vintage, sky-blue 1962 Ford Falcon moved gracefully through the meandering, damp dirt roads of the Montana mountains. The scent of wet earth filled the air of the car, seeping in from the never-ending rain-drenched forests.

The previous night's ruthless downpour momentarily relented, leaving a temporary calm in its wake. The car rounded a bend and glided past an unsettling sight—the mangled roadkill of some wild animal.

As Charlotte Beale drove, the pungent stench of decay filled the car. A window was slightly ajar, and before she could contemplate closing it, a brisk gust of wind swept in, dispersing the foul odor. Clad in a crisp white nurse's uniform, Charlotte scanned the winding road ahead with keen, bright eyes. Her sleek, straight blonde hair cascaded around her shoulders like a pristine curtain.

Beside her, Tess Fulton lounged in the passenger seat, her dark hair cascading down. With a bored sigh, she took the final drag of her cigarette, leaving a faint imprint of red lipstick on the bud, and then flicked it out the window.

Tess stretched her arms, her voice tinged with apprehension. I got a bad feeling about this gig.

This is what you get for failing your midterms. Meanwhile, I passed everything with flying colors. She playfully chided her friend, You've been a bad girl.

Tess feigned a pout, her eyes sparkling with humor. I thought for sure Dr. Hayes would count all my blowjobs as extra credit.

Please tell me you’re joking, Charlotte urged.

Tess flashed a mischievous grin, holding the pause longer than necessary, then burst out laughing as the facade melted away.

Charlotte couldn't help but smile back, fully aware that Tess's 'bad girl' act was all for show. Beneath the playful exterior, her friend was as dedicated as they came.

Mary Tyler Moore would be so disappointed in you, Charlotte scolded jokingly.

Charlotte's eyes caught the gentle sway of an old smiley face necklace hanging from the rearview mirror—a rusted yellow memento she and Tess had discovered together in a second-grade sandbox, symbolizing their long friendship.

Tess sighed deeply. What am I doing? I'm a horrible nurse. Hell, I barely like people as it is, and sometimes, I don't even like you.

You can do this, Tess.

My cousin's girlfriend is a stewardess; she gets to fly around the world wearing short, sexy skirts. She doesn't have to deal with changing adult diapers. Tess paused, taking a moment to choose her words. I'm…I'm having second thoughts, she admitted after a beat. And I'm pretty sure you are, too.

Charlotte jerked, her eyes widening as Tess's words hit a nerve. Me? Are you kidding? I feel great. Wonderful, in fact.

Don't get so insulted, Tess said. I'm just saying that you have nothing to prove.

Where is all this coming from? Charlotte asked. I thought we agreed to be strong, independent women.

I'd rather just marry a rich man with a big dick and be done with it.

Ok, enough with the act. I’m serious.

Charlotte took a sharp turn, causing the small plastic Halloween pumpkin on the dashboard to wobble, threatening to roll off.

We're doing something important with our lives, Tess, Charlotte said. Helping to give a voice to the mentally ill—making a real difference in the world. Wasn't that our dream?

It's your dream. My dream? My dreams ain't nothing but wet, Tess replied.

Charlotte attempted to maintain her composure, but Tess was in a playful mood. Given the immense stress of the job they were headed to, Charlotte was certain Tess was merely trying to help her relax. Unable to resist the infectious spirit, Charlotte found herself succumbing to the moment, and the two friends burst into laughter.

As the giggles subsided, Tess leaned back, giving Charlotte a fond smile. Well, if we're going to make a difference, we better make it count, right?

Absolutely, Charlotte affirmed. She renewed her focus on the road, her grip on the steering wheel easing.

The car pressed on, navigating the untamed landscape. Off to the side, a rundown gas station and its adjacent store materialized from the fog. Their dilapidated state suggested abandonment, but the sight of an old man sitting in a rocking chair out front, watching them intently, suggested otherwise.

Though the rain had stopped, a heavy mountain mist persisted, compelling Charlotte to frequently activate her squeaky windshield wipers. As they traveled further into the wilderness, the remnants of civilization grew scarce, deepening their sense of isolation.

Then, a weathered billboard materialized through the thick haze. The words on the sign gripped their hearts: Insane Asylum Entrance Only. No Exit.

Drawing a deep, calming breath, Charlotte murmured, Here we go.

Past the sign, towering iron gates dominated the scene. A dark shadow engulfed the car as it ventured into the sprawling asylum grounds. The hospital—a Gothic monstrosity—loomed over them.

Charlotte took another deep breath, exchanged a glance with Tess, and tried to keep up her brave façade.

Tess narrowed her eyes at the building. Not quite like the brochure, huh?

The car rolled onto a patch of damp, yellowing grass, slowing to a stop. They grabbed their satchels and emerged, a cold gust brushing against their skin. Charlotte looked up at the time-worn hospital, a shiver running down her spine despite her best efforts to suppress it. It's not...that bad, she said, her voice lacking conviction. I'm sure it looks much nicer inside.

Together, they swung their satchels over their shoulders and headed out. As the asylum's intimidating facade grew before them, Charlotte could feel the tightening grip of apprehension, a cold hand around her heart.

She sensed Tess's eyes on her, prompting her to attempt a smile—but her facial muscles felt stiff, uncooperative.

You sure you're alright? Tess asked as they walked. You seem a bit...on edge.

Charlotte hesitated, her thoughts swirling in a whirlpool of uncertainty. She finally spoke, her voice laced with vulnerability, Tess—I need you to be honest with me. Tell me the truth. Am I really in over my head? She waited, holding her breath for Tess's reassurance, but was met with heavy silence. Not the old me; forget about that. I'm talking about me today—right now.

Tess came to an abrupt halt, her expression hardened as she tried her best not to give a direct answer. Are you seriously getting cold feet now? After all your talk? Come on, Charlotte. If you're not sure about this...

Charlotte grappled with a whirlwind of thoughts, searching for the right words. ...Geez. You're starting to sound just like my parents.

Tess persisted. Well, maybe they have good reason to be concerned.

Oh, so now you're taking their side? Charlotte countered. "What happened to 'I wish your parents had raised you like mine did'?"

Tess's smile waned. Clearly, the only thing my parents successfully raised was their blood alcohol level.

Charlotte, turning her gaze aside, was met with a burst of color—vibrant yellow buttercup flowers winding alongside the asylum, resembling a road of enchantment leading to the unknown, a stark contrast to the shadowy facade.

A smile tugged at Charlotte's lips. Beauty finds a way, even here. After a moment, she added, If this isn't a good sign, then I don't know what is.

With newfound determination, she shook off her doubts and led the way.

With a steadying breath, Charlotte climbed the ancient stone steps and rapped firmly on the towering front doors.

2

SISSY AND ROSIE

Next to the asylum’s heavy wooden doors, Tess pressed a button on the old-fashioned intercom box, causing the metal contraption to nearly fall apart.

They weren't lying when they said this place was about to collapse, Tess remarked sarcastically.

As Tess and Charlotte shared a nervous giggle, they were both startled by a sudden horn blaring behind them.

AHOOGA! With a sound reminiscent of a strangled, sick goose, the 1955 Ford Thunderbird Convertible raced onto the landscape, carrying two more nurses. The driver waved at them as she parked the car.

Tess snarled, Thank God we're not the only one's stupid enough to sign up for this.

In the car, Sissy, the passenger, raised her hand threateningly at the driver. Stop that! Are you high? What in God's name has gotten into you? We are representatives of the church. Sissy stared at Rosie like a mother scolding her child. We can't be honking our horns like a couple of crazy protesting hippies.

Sitting straight, Sissy was the very picture of authority, her broad shoulders accentuating her formidable presence. Her golden hair was pulled back. A large cross necklace, which dangled between her ample breasts, drew attention to her unwavering faith. Get it together.

Rosie sank in her seat as she turned off the car. I'm… sorry. My brother had that horn installed, and I was excited to use it. Rosie was a dainty and fragile young woman with fiery red hair in loose curls. Her emerald eyes were anxious with anticipation. She reached for her bible and held it against her chest, seeking solace and protection.

Sissy exhaled a frustrated sigh, recalling the tiresome two hours of Rosie's chatter about how much cuter the Beatles were than The Monkees. If she had to hear 'but Ringo has the cutest nose' one more time, she was going to start reciting Hail Marys. She cursed under her breath, wishing she had insisted on driving. She always felt so out of control when she wasn't the one behind the wheel.

You know, Sissy, my friend Jenny said this asylum is cursed. She said patients are raped, beaten, and dragged screaming into operating rooms.

Sissy snatched her satchel and flung the door open. Rosie, do not cloud your judgment with such ungodly thoughts.

Rosie hopped out of the car, shutting the door with a soft thud, her voice eager. But Jenny said, years ago, a horde of filthy lunatics raped a nurse and…

Sissy angerly whispered back, Jenny is going to hell. She pivoted away from the car, her gaze now fixed on Charlotte and Tess at the entrance.

Rosie noticed the disapproving look on Sissy's face. Her narrowed gaze and the tight press of her lips left no doubt—she had formed an opinion of them.

Sissy warned, Be polite, but keep your distance from them. We aren't here to make friends with city girls.

City girls? You really think so?

I'm warning you, stay away from them. I'm sure they're nothing but a couple of feminist, pot-smoking floozies.

Rosie blinked. And that's a bad thing?

Sissy marched forward like she was going to war, as Rosie hurried after her. The church had tasked Sissy to be Rosie's Spiritual Guide and Youth Leader to help her back on the road to righteousness. She took this nursing assignment to immerse Rosie in responsibilities. She’d meant it to be a punishment of sorts, but to her surprise, Rosie's eyes had widened in curiosity and intrigue about working in an old lunatic asylum.

As Rosie and Sissy approached the entrance, Charlotte and Tess greeted them with expectant faces. Sissy flashed a forced smile, making no secret of her attempt to unsettle the other nurses.

No one's answering, Tess murmured, her fingers lightly brushing the old wooden door. Looks like they must all be on lunch break.

Oh, rubbish, Sissy said, marching up the steps between Charlotte and Tess and knocking loudly with a gloved hand.

Sometimes you have to be aggressive in these places. A little 'ladies' knock' isn't going to get anyone's attention.

Charlotte expected Tess to explode at the snide remark, but instead, Tess just rolled her eyes. It was obvious Tess knew this wasn’t the time or place.

Taking advantage of a brief pause in Sissy's knocking, Charlotte inched forward, placing her ear delicately against the ancient wood of the door. Faintly, as if coming from a great distance or perhaps another world, she believed she heard the soft, mournful sound of a man crying. But before she could truly identify what she was hearing, the door violently swung open. Its rusted hinges shrieked in protest, and Charlotte, surprised, leaped back, rejoining the startled group of nurses.

Out of the darkness an orderly emerged.

As he stepped into the light, the nurses' eyes were captivated by his striking features. His chiseled jaw and windswept hair would have fit perfectly on a James Dean movie poster. He leaned back against the door frame in a relaxed posture. Upon seeing the four junior nurses, the lines around his eyes softened, and his gaze lingered on them, like a cat discovering a wounded mouse.

He wore a pristine white uniform, a ring of keys attached to his belt jingling with his every move, and his name tag read Edgar.

Oh, thank goodness you heard my knock, Sissy said.

Edgar's gaze traveled over Sissy in a shameless sweep before he diverted his attention to a clipboard in his hands.

Sissy ignored the inappropriate gaze; she was no stranger to lingering male attention. We've been assigned here to assist the patients while they're being transferred to the new hospital. And I also hope to bless this place with the light of God's righteous glory.

Well then, by all means. Edgar smirked, opening the door wider. Welcome to Crazyville.

Sissy and Rosie hurried inside, but as Charlotte investigated the dark entrance, her forced confidence vanished. Sensing Charlotte's hesitation, Tess murmured reassuringly, If you can't do this…

A rising sense of dread seeped through Charlotte's veins. Echoes of her parents' warnings drifted through her mind, their words twisting into images of doubt. Were they right? Was she not ready for something like this yet?

Shaking her head, she pushed aside the unsettling thoughts and gathered her courage. Don't be silly, Charlotte said. Squaring her shoulders and pulling in a lungful of stale asylum air, she stepped after the other nurses, determination sparking her eyes.

Tess trailed behind Charlotte. Seconds later, the door crashed shut with a thunderous boom.

3

NO RETREAT

Inside the asylum's entrance room, the nurses stood like silent statues, watching intently as Edgar secured the door's heavy locks. Each click and clank resonated, as if invisible chains were wrapping around them.

In the dim confines of the room, an imposing rusted iron gate loomed ahead of the nurses. The corridor beyond stretched out endlessly, with forgotten relics and mysterious boxes pressed against its walls, leading into an impenetrable void of darkness. Charlotte's heart raced, knowing they would soon be heading in that direction.

She turned her attention to the display case along the wall. Inside was an assortment of chilling devices: restraints, mouthpieces, maces, tranquilizer guns, and cattle prods. The lock hung unattached.

Edgar turned to the anxious nurses. A sly smile slithered across his face, and his eyes glinted with a hint of mischief.

Charlotte, initially swayed by his good looks, grew uncomfortable in his presence. Despite his charm, she became wary of his true intentions, sensing a disturbing aura she couldn't pinpoint.

Edgar approached the wall, where an old, dilapidated phone hung by a thread of wires. He spoke into the phone. Hey, I got me four strippers down here. What should I do with 'em?

Sissy and Rosie exchanged uneasy glances.

Edgar laughed. Now, now, get your greedy little pecker back in your pants. It's just a bunch of nurses, he said into the phone. After a brief pause, he asked, You guys got work orders?

Sissy handed over a yellow slip of paper. We're from the Angels of Mercy Fellowship, she explained.

Charlotte presented her own papers. And we're interns from Green Park Nursing School. We're scheduled to work here until early tomorrow morning.

Edgar nodded, his eyes shifting between the papers and the nurses. He spoke back into the phone. Did you get that? After another pause, Okey-dokey, I'll send them right up.

Edgar ended the call and pressed a large red button on the wall. The sudden, jarring buzz of the intercom startled the nurses as the heavy, barred doors swung open with a loud click.

Let's get a move on, Lassies. We're off to see the warden. He gestured for his nervous companions to follow him through the foreboding gates.

Charlotte and the nurses stepped into the shadowy corridor.

We're short-staffed, so once these gates close, they don't open again until check-out time, Edgar said, facing the nurses. We clear?

The nurses nodded.

A word of advice? You better learn to laugh around here, or you'll go insane, he said before slamming the prison door shut.

Beyond the gates, they were drawn deeper into the asylum's heart. Following Edgar, Charlotte felt her apprehension grow. When she dared to glance back, the tight, nervous expressions of the other nurses mirrored her own anxiety. Edgar, seemingly unbothered, navigated through the oppressive corridors, around dark turns, and under looming staircases that threatened to collapse. The walls, marked by neglect, featured peeling paint and indefinable stains. In the gloom, patches of mold assumed the unsettling likeness of twisted faces.

Creaking floorboards accompanied their every step, and boarded-up rooms with CONDEMNED signs served as chilling warnings of the horrors that might lay beyond.

Edgar's voice boomed within the hallway. It's about time they closed this godforsaken place down. Too many deaths if you ask me. And not all were suicides, you know? His voice dripped with disdain for the establishment. Animals in zoos get better care.

I've heard rumors about patients dying out of sight and not being discovered until days afterward, Rosie said, her voice quivering.

This place ain't nothin' but a bunch of terrible memories.

As they continued, each twist and turn seemed identical to the last, making the entrance feel like a distant memory. Doubt gnawed at Charlotte, the seemingly endless journey through the asylum weighing heavily on her.

Before the confines of the asylum could get the better of Charlotte, they finally came to a halt before a massive oak door, its wood darkened with age. Edgar knocked.

A voice called from inside, Come in.

They followed Edgar into the room. The flickering flames of a crackling fireplace cast eerie shadows. The fire illuminated the room, showcasing the many plaques and degrees lining the walls. On the desk, a model of a brain with a missing piece mocked the staff's attempts to understand the human mind.

Warden Masters stepped out from behind her polished desk. With a sturdy frame and a gaze that could pierce through walls, she effortlessly commanded the room. She exuded a sense of strength and vitality that belied her age of fifty-plus years. Her dark hair was pulled back into a strict bun; a hint of a smile played at the corners of her mouth.

Welcome to Stephens Sanitarium. I'm Warden Masters. She gestured towards the chairs. Please, have a seat.

As they took seats before the desk, Charlotte's attention was drawn to a young nurse by a cart and bookshelf. She couldn't have been more than twenty, her petite frame making the prominent baby bump even more noticeable. Engrossed in her task, she efficiently moved books from the cart to the shelf. The nurse's gaunt appearance was striking; it was clear she carried more than just the physical weight of her pregnancy. Each precise, quick movement seemed fueled by quiet desperation.

The warden rifled through the clutter on her desk, seeking something elusive, when the pregnant nurse suddenly leapt forward. With a swift motion, the nurse gathered a stack of papers from her cart and handed them over.

Thank you, Nurse Virginia. Always coming to my rescue, the warden expressed her gratitude with a relieved smile.

Accepting the papers, Warden Masters promptly distributed the night's schedules. For tonight, here's what we're looking at. Straightforward tasks, really. Think of it as…well, upscale babysitting, she advised, her tone light. But a tinge of hardness crept into her expression as she sighed. Perfect timing on your part. Just last night, one of our long-time nurses called it quits. Five years on the graveyard shift will do that. Heck, some can't even push past the five-month mark.

The uneasy laughter of the nurses filled the air as they watched Nurse Virginia wheel her book cart away. The pregnant nurse moved with a sense of urgency, as if fleeing from an unseen threat.

Raising her voice to recapture the nurses' attention, the warden asserted, You know, you can just tell by looking at the patients—there's this spark in their eyes, something different. They're all practically buzzing. Word's gotten around about the new hospital move, and you can just feel the excitement in the air. A flash of seriousness passed through her eyes. However, in the meantime, this asylum must continue to function securely and maintain its integrity. To achieve that, I'll require your help. She hesitated for a moment. I applaud your bravery. It's not every day we find nurses willing to dive into this unique challenge.

Well… there are quite a few horror stories, Rosie said.

I assure you, the warden responded with conviction, it's utter nonsense. Those vile rumors were created by disgusting reporters looking to profit from this species of human misery.

Sissy chimed in, Of course. We wouldn't dare believe in such gossip.

Charlotte knit her brows together. It's so unfortunate that these patients are being incarcerated for simply having a disability.

That comment caused a shadow of concern to cross the warden's face. However, be aware that during your stay, you may witness some…disturbing events. Her gaze swept over the group. Some patients here might make you feel concerned or even afraid. But please keep an open mind and look at these individuals as you would a very young child, one who desperately needs your understanding.

Charlotte