Desolate

Chapter 2

Chapter 2“Westley?”

Nicolaj Zinca jumped at the unexpected reaction of his partner, his hand slipping from Westley’s shoulder as he spun around. A split second later, however, he grabbed Westley by the wrist, spurred into action by the worrisome groan of the floor. Another piece gave ‘way, driving home the instability of the structure at this point. Nicolaj tugged Westley to him, catching his beloved and looping an arm around Westley’s waist. When he’d come up the stairs looking for his boyfriend, having been calling his name a good four or five minutes, he was bothered by the sight before him. And then, just now, the look in Westley’s eyes, it was enough to confirm that something was afoot.

A lost soul unable to flee the place of its demise had reached out.

And Nicolaj got the feeling it wasn’t looking to make friends.

So he held Westley close, chest to chest, standing a hair taller than his beloved, using the familiarity of his touch to bring Westley back. They stood in their loving embrace, Westley resting his forehead on Nicolaj’s shoulder while Nicolaj gazed down to the far end of the hall. As he did, he wondered what Westley had seen, second guessing this little adventure of theirs. Urban exploring, the act of poking around abandoned places, was one of their shared hobbies, and when he stumbled upon this place, Nicolaj knew it was a must visit.

Mainly because it was so close to home.

But he should have known better or at least have done some decent research on the place, having never heard of it before, traveling out here on the suggestion of a customer who saw some of his photos from past explorations. Nicolaj tried to brush away the touch of guilt that settled in his stomach, disappointed in himself for failing Westley. He was here now, that mattered more than anything.

“Come back to me, West,” he muttered, eyes closed, putting a dose of intention behind the words. “Come back. I will keep you safe.”

He slipped his free hand into Westley’s, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Then hooked a finger under Westley’s chin and prompted him to look up. Those cerulean blue eyes gazed back at Nicolaj and with a touch of relief he noticed they were clear, the fog of a far away stare having dissipated. Whatever had been trying to reach Westley was gone, its hold lost, interrupted by his presence. What if I arrived a moment later? Would it have led him over the edge? Nicolaj swiftly banished the thought, unwilling to entertain such horror.

Nicolaj smiled. “Ah, there we go. I was worried about you for a minute.”

Westley still seemed off.

“Come on, it is getting late and you have a class soon. We should be getting back,” said Nicolaj, turning to the staircase. When he ushered Westley out the door, breakfast in hand, this secret on his lips, he hoped for a morning spent bonding with his boyfriend. They arrived shortly after the sun crossed the horizon, yet the bordering trees left them in the coolness of night’s last touches. The delight as Westley practically jumped out of his seat had long since vanished, replaced with an almost zombie-like quality.

He’d seen this state a time or two in the past and understood the best way to bring his Westley back to him.

Nicolaj maintained his hold on Westley’s hand as much for his own comfort as to make sure Westley remained with him. He backtracked through the asylum, bypassing the office in which he’d been poking around when Westley wandered off. Captivated by what appeared to be the log of a former doctor he failed to notice Westley leave.

That was one of their rules, staying together for safety reasons, and he wanted very much to remind Westley of it, somewhat irked when he turned around to find him gone, but now wasn’t the right time. Perhaps once they were back on the road, some distance between them and this place.

Next time a client sees one of my photos and suggests a place I am going to do my research. No more spur of the moment trips. Even if this building is mesmerizing in its own way.

Back outside, the morning sun greeted them, chasing away the chill that permeated the building. For Nicolaj it was like stepping back into the world of the living, the difference between the overgrown parking lot and the foyer jarringly stark. Literally stepping from the dark into the light. His SUV was a yard away amongst the thigh high grass and encroaching trees. As they strolled toward it, Nicolaj cast a look back at the asylum.

Rose Hill State Hospital must have been a sight in its heyday, he figured, as even now in its degraded state it still captivated. The way it sat upon the rise, a hulking mass of intricate brick the likes of which wasn’t seen anymore, and its cupolas jutting into the soft blue sky dotted with puffy clouds. Nicolaj knew nothing about the place, only what his client wrote on the slip of paper and that happened to be the directions to its grounds. She mentioned something about a dazzling pond and a creepy little cemetery, but that was it.

Neither of which he was going to see.

Ever.

They stopped by the front bumper. He planted a kiss on Westley’s forehead, leaving his lips to linger a heartbeat. “I do not think we should be coming back here. This place gives me the, how do you say, heebie jeebies, is that right? And I must admit, you had me worried.” He pulled back. Nicolaj studied Westley’s face. “What did you see in there?”

Westley shook his head. “Nothing, just the shifting shadows.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, just shadows, and I thought maybe I saw a squirrel or something.”

Nicolaj didn’t buy it for a second, already thinking ahead to ways he could cleanse Westley of the asylum’s touch without his beloved knowing it was happening. Surely there was something in one of the books he sold at his shop or perhaps in his own private collection. Either way, he’d find it, even if he wound up having to ask someone in the pagan community or make a call home.

“Well, if you are sure…”

Westley smiled, his face lighting up, and he looked for all the world like his usual self. “I’m okay. Famished, but okay.” He moved around to the passenger door, yanking it open. “Any chance I can get some of your fabulous French toast for breakfast?”

Eager to put the incident behind them, at least for now, or maybe I am making a mountain out of a mole hill, Nicolaj chuckled faintly. “I think you will have to settle for something else. Your students will be waiting. But, I promise all the French toast you can eat for dinner, how is that?”

“Oh, I might just have to skip lunch.” He rubbed his stomach.

The two climbed into the car and Nicolaj slipped the key into the ignition, turning over the engine. Westley let out a snort of disapproval at the song on the radio and went in search of something more his taste. Nicolaj turned the Explorer around and began the slow drive down the barely discernible driveway, Mother Nature all too happy to reclaim what had once belonged to her. Rose Hill appeared in the rearview mirror, getting smaller with every minute, yet managing to loom larger than ever. The guilt Nicolaj felt twisted and churned until it formed a cold lump in his gut, settling heavily.

The next thought to slip across his mind could have come straight from the moldering building.

I have not seen the last of you, of this I am certain.

You will not win.