Clink

“The Clinker” we called it. Not because it once held Euripides Clank, the mad mechanic of Pentigurdle. Not because it had fallen into disrepair over the years and now the entire building rattled as the wind went through it. It was because they said that when there was a moment of silence you could hear a distant rattle of chains from within the old mental hospital.

Gazing up at the smoke blackened walls of the abandoned building, Kyle Evans pondered over the reasoning behind him doing this. In the end he settled for the fact he got hundred and fifty pound for spending a single night in here. He stared at the decrepit door for a second before walking calmly up to it; his exterior looked as cool as a cucumber but inside his nerves with jangling as if someone was playing chopsticks on them.

He’d been told that Clank had started the fire using an electric toothbrush and a pint of water. He’d also been told that the chains that people swore they heard were the sounds of Clank’s new mechanical body. No one was even sure why Clank had been locked up here; though several rumours had circulated about him being the reason no one could walk down Everstone Street for three weeks. These and half a million other things that could go wrong raced through Kyle’s mind as his hand gripped onto the rusted knocker. The door stuck after a few inches, but with a couple of good yanks the charred wood splintered and the door opened.

He peered inside; dim light filtering through smashed grubby windows illuminated the main hall. Half a stairway led to the upper floors and several corridors led off to different wings, all in different states of fricassee. No one could say that it wasn’t creepy, the sheer sight of the hall sent chills up Kyle’s spine. The bet was to stay deep inside the hospital though, so he couldn’t freeze up in the foyer. Glass crunched under his feet as he trod across the entrance hall, rubbing his hands together nervously. Looking down a dark corridor he grabbed his torch from his belt, shining it down into the broken halls.

The smell of charcoal long forgotten and the un-scorched wood that had gotten damp over the years filled Kyle’s nose, almost choking him. He must be getting near the original source of the fire, he could tell because the further he went the blacker the walls got. He shone the torch over the walls, breathing the laden air and his heart going fifty beats a second.

A shadow flickered in the corner of his eyes and he spun with the sound of crunching brickwork. What he saw sent a blast of terror through him. A ghastly frieze burnt against the wall, nothing more than a white shadow among the black now. He knew people had died, but he hadn’t expected to meet such a horrible sight. A face caught in a scream of pain as it was burnt into the wall itself.

Finally managing to tear his eyes away from the horrible sight, Kyle took off down the hallway quickly. It was getting dark now; orange light was spilling through the sparse windows that he passed. Soon he reached the room he would be spending the night in; the black room. It was one of the smallest rooms, the room they kept Clank in all those years ago. The once sturdy iron door lay half melted on its side, the drops of molten metal that had run down the door as it melted away had set soon afterwards, leaving them held in place. The door looked as if it was still melting. Kyle shuffled into the room and slumped down against the wall opposite the door. He reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a packet of pills. He popped open his water bottle that had been dangling from his waist and drank down two pills with a loud gulp; well he didn’t want to stay awake all night did he? Leaning back he stared up at the ceiling. Frowning he cocked his head “what’s that on the ceiling?” he thought to himself. “It looks like...” the blackness descended like a black iron curtain, crashing down onto him.

There was no dream; there was not a single sound until Kyle bolted up from his seat on the floor. He screamed and clawed at his face, feeling as if flames were flickering up over his body. After a few seconds of sheer panic he just sat there, staring at the ceiling unseeingly. He flicked on his light, checked his watch and saw that it was quarter past seven. He was still staring at his watch when he heard a loud and definite clink!

Kyle’s eyes frosted over with icy terror. His face turned to the doorway without him urging it to do so. Standing beyond the half liquid door stood a haggard, soot blackened, and rancid figure. Something dripped slowly from one of its long appendages. It wasn’t blood; blood would have at least created a small bare mark in the sooty floor. Getting up cautiously, Kyle moved out of the slim doorway. It seemed the creature wasn’t looking his way. As soon as he was in the corridor he spun around to run, but he spun too fast. He hit the floor hard, his foot slipping out from underneath him on the mysterious liquid that had been dripping from the figure. Kyle’s eyes opened wide as the thing behind him spun round with a rusty groan and a metallic hiss. Light bathed him for a second, a light ten times more powerful than his feeble torch.

He scrambled up, pure adrenaline giving him energy. There was a screech from behind him; a screech that Kyle had never thought was possible out of the movies. He was away though, his feet pounding across the floor was nothing to his heart beat right now. He let out a scream of surprise as his foot caught on a piece of fallen ceiling. He covered his face and rolled. The world spun, making Kyle feel sick. Then the world stopped suddenly, filling Kyle with sudden pain and making him wish the world was spinning again. He shook as he peeled himself away from the wall, shaking his head slightly. He stared at the wall, terrified. The burnt on face screamed up at Kyle, seemingly staring into his soul.

Kyle was woken from his stupor as the light shone onto him, the unearthly shriek filling his ears as he took off again. He breathed hard, the thick air filling his lungs and trying to suffocate him as the deafening clanks, hisses and whirrs behind him filled his ears. His torch flickered as he ran, barely lighting his way. Deafened, breathless and basically blind, Kyle was starting to lose hope of ever escaping this wretched place. He could hear the great beast getting closer and closer as he neared the main hall. He skidded into the room, jumping slightly and pushing against a fallen stair rail with one foot. He stumbled forward just in time as whatever it was that was chasing him crashed headlong into the stairwell, breaking what little there was left standing and bringing it down upon its head. Kyle didn’t leave unscathed however, flying rubble glanced his body and a rather large step caught the back of his arm and he started to bleed. He let out a yell of pain and made his way towards the door, limping slightly as his body ached from the exertion he’d put it through.

The doorway was in sight, the door he had broken to get in had been closed over the night. Kyle reached out a shaky hand and gripped onto the handle tightly, breathing in air not so laced with charcoal deeply. A deep shiver ran down his back as there was another loud, determined clank! He gripped hard to the door as the pile of rubble exploded outwards, slamming him forward out of the door and taking it with him. He gazed back in fear as the clanking, creaking creature emerged from the rubble. He crawled backwards as fast as he could, the blazing eye turning to him. The creature reached forward towards Kyle, the young man’s eyes wide in terror. He saw the limb in the half light of the rising sun, twisted piping and metal fused messily to create a massive arm. Kyle stared as it shadowed him, closing his eyes and gulping hard. He was expecting a short, sharp squelchy death and was surprised as the beast lifted the door out from under him and slammed it back into place. Grabbing his bleeding arm, Kyle got to his feet, visibly shaking. Turning slowly he head towards the nearest occupied hospital; his clothes dirty and torn and his trousers soaked in thick oil.