Salem Hill Rest Home: Retirement for Unusual Beings- Part Two

If you are wondering, I haven’t received any information on room 305. I guess that I’ll continue posting my experiences until someone reaches out.

I have now worked at Salem Hill Rest Home for a week. It isn’t as bad as I thought it would be, but I have certainly considered quitting. Thankfully, I have become more accustomed to the rest home now, numbed to the teeth, claws, and numerous eyes of the residents. If you hear guttural screams from room 101, you don’t check on it. If a weird goo drips down from the ceiling at 4:22 pm, you don’t touch it. It dissolves on its own. And if, for any reason, the call light for room 305 goes off, you ignore it. I still hadn’t asked Jaylen about room 305, but curiosity was starting to creep into me. I pushed it down as much as I could, but it was getting stronger.

On my third day on the job, Connie was out sick, so I had to cover both wings of the rest home. That meant I switched to the other side at lunch time. I had also forgotten my lunch, so I’d starve for the rest of the day. I was too scared to even steal a pack of chips from the supply room. Something lives in the refrigerator, and I think it watches me a little too closely.

As I walked to the East Wing, I found the rehab room. It was bright and colorful, unlike the rehabs I had always seen. The walls were riddled with macaroni art, finger paintings, and strings of beads. I stopped to stare inside, mesmerized by the vibrant pops of color.

“You like it?” a girl asked from across the rehab room.

She approached me with a wide smile. She appeared to be normal, but that didn’t mean anything around here. Her hair was short, curly, and blonde, and her eyes were honey brown.

“It’s beautiful,” I said in awe.

She giggled. “We work on it a little more every day. My name is Lauren. I’m the occupational therapist here and the rehab director. It is wonderful to meet you. I hardly see anyone from the West Wing aside from the patients, of course.”

A tall physical therapist wheeled his next patient into the room, and I forced myself not to flinch at the patient’s appearance. The patient was a fish-person. He was neither a mermaid nor a siren. He was something completely foreign to me. His eyes were glazed over with cataracts, and they bugged out to the sides of his head, large and globular. His old gills looked more like ruffled lasagna noodles on the sides of his neck. He gurgled as the PT wheeled him inside. I quickly looked back at Lauren, but she was staring at the fish-person, watching him intently.

“Mr. Hoggencarp, I’m so glad that you could come in today,” Lauren chirped.

The creature responded in a series of low gurgles and pops. He screeched and flopped in his chair. Lauren simply smiled, ignoring his behavior. Then, I saw her eyes change. Slits formed in her irises, and a forked tongue slithered from her mouth.

“Be calm, Mr. Hoggencarp. You’ll have a great time in therapy if you stay in your chair. You broke your tail fin, so it is best to let us help you rehab it. You’ll be back to the sea in no time.”

She walked back into the therapy room, sweet façade fading. The physical therapist looked at me sheepishly. He had dark black hair and soft tan skin. I’d seen him walk to his car earlier this week, so I knew that he was a human. The OT certainly wasn’t.

I slowly backed away from the rehab room, pretending like something important drew my attention. A foul smell of rotten fish seeped through the air, and I reached into my purse and grabbed a tube of peppermint oil. I rubbed it under my nose. It was better than smelling fish guts.

Jaylen eventually found me on the East Wing, and she gave me a perplexed look. “Aren’t you going to eat something?”

“I forgot my lunch,” I mumbled, typing in the prescriptions for the new resident coming in today.

Lizard cheek for high blood pressure. Newt feet for anxiety. Golden eggshells for nausea.

Most of this shit sounded like lines from Shakespeare, but I didn’t dare to say a word. I had to pretend like this was normal. I had to accept them for what they are, regardless of their freakish traits.

“Here,” Jaylen said, offering me her to-go box. “I got the last human box from the lunchroom. The lunchroom makes a specific number of human boxes each day. It is our kind of food, not theirs.”

“Oh,” I said, realizing that they most likely ate things that would make Jaylen and me vomit for days or simply die.

I opened the box and was greeted by half of a turkey sandwich and a few fries. I gratefully ate.

Jaylen chuckled. “How have things been?”

“Pretty good so far. I haven’t been needed by the residents, and the regular staff informs me when a patient needs a new medication or if Dr. Chancellor needs to check on them. I start rounds with Dr. Chancellor next week. I’m nervous.”

“Don’t be nervous. He… he’s just a little different.” Jaylen shrugged. “But it sounds like you are warming up to things around here. It really isn’t bad. You just have to… adjust.”

“If you can even call it that,” I muttered.

Jaylen laughed and quickly stifled it. She sat down beside me and began logging patient information.

Another nurse approached the station, her eyes filled with worry. “Mr. Nubis is running off again.”

I frowned. Running off is code for consecutive bouts of diarrhea.

“Can we get him a prescription for femur paste? His bottom is getting raw.”

I nodded and sent a message to Dr. Chancellor.

“Can you two help me change him? He’s got a swallow evaluation today with the speech pathologist, and I’d rather the poor speech path survive the experience.”

Jaylen snorted. “Mr. Nubis is just going to keep choking if he won’t participate. The poor speech guy has tried to do a swallow evaluation on him twice now. But yeah, we can help you.”

We both got up and headed to room 402. I had yet to meet Mr. Nubis, but from what I understood, he wasn’t easy to deal with. When we reached the room, we all gagged. It seemed that Mr. Nubis had gotten busy while the nurse stepped away. Jaylen opened the door, and we all stepped into the dark room. A musty draft whisked around us, and we cautiously walked through a dimly lit tunnel. Sand covered the floor, and as the wind blew, it stung our faces.

I stared in disbelief. The tunnel was long, leading to a faint light in the distance. Part of me remained amazed by Salem Hill, but another part wondered what sinister magic it held. Was the rest home itself riddled with magic, or was Dr. Chancellor more than he let on? I’d have to keep an eye on him. But that would prove difficult. I had not seen him since our interview. He usually did rounds with Connie, and even then, I barely saw a glimpse of his white coat.

“Mr. Nubis!” the nurse shouted.

A muffled cry echoed from the darkness.

“Oh NO!” the nurse yelled. She ran into the darkness ahead of us, and we swiftly followed her.

“WAIT!” I shouted.

Jaylen and I caught up to her, and I stopped, gazing around in shock. We had reached the interior of a grand tomb, warmly lit by torches. Gold and jewels covered each surface, and a strange hum echoed through the air. A massive boat lay a few feet from us, and papyrus scrolls lay scattered throughout the chamber. A few scorpions crawled across the floor, and I kicked one away as it attempted to creep onto my shoe. Painted scarabs and ornate murals covered the walls, and ancient hieroglyphs were etched into the stone around us. The large, mummified body of a crocodile lay a few feet from us, layered in dust and sand.

Jaylen had to nudge me back to the present situation.

A long strand of linen led into a room beyond, and the nurse was standing outside of it. Droplets of feces clung to the linen, and the overpowering smell of rotten meat permeated the dry air.

“Mr. Nubis… We’re coming in,” the nurse said.

The three of us stepped inside to find a completely unbound mummy. I swallowed hard, forcing the sandwich I had just eaten back down. The mummy’s skin was a dark tar color, and his eyes were glowing orbs beneath thin strands of linen. He opened his mouth to moan, and only four teeth remained in his mouth. His tongue was gone, removed during mumification. Scarabs crawled through his exposed rib bones, nesting inside his chest. The musculature that covered him was similar to beef jerky, dry, cracked, and leathery. Most of his linen cloths were strewn around him, soiled by his feces. And the rest was clogging the chamber pot beside him.

He began to roar as he saw Jaylen and me. The tomb shook, and dust sprinkled from the ceiling. I grabbed the closest wall as the ground shook violently. Jaylen stabilized herself, refusing to fall into the muck below us.

“GO AWAY!” he shouted. His voice reverberated around the room, and he angrily swatted toward Jaylen, brilliant red flames emitting from beneath the remaining folds of linen on his face. She dodged his soiled hand and grabbed a pair of gloves out of her pocket.

“Mr. Nubis… we’ve got to get you cleaned up and back into your sarcophagus. You’ve got a swallow evaluation today,” Jaylen said calmly.

I think you know what happened next. There was a lot of struggling, arguing, and cleaning, but Mr. Nubis was eventually cleaned, much to his dismay… and ours.

The rest of the day proceeded normally until a new CNA arrived for the night shift. She was an hour early, probably hoping to get accustomed to her new environment. She walked to the nurses’ station, clutching her lunchbox like it would protect her.

“I’m Janet,” she murmured, too scared to speak loudly.

“Hi,” I said, leaning over the counter to greet her. “Come sit down. You can sit with Jaylen and me until it is time for your shift.” I looked at the schedule. “Ronald will orient you for the night shift. He usually gets here around 7:30 pm.”

Janet sat down, hands trembling. “What kind of nursing home is this?” she asked. “I just answered a letter that I received in the mail.”

“This is Salem Hill Rest Home: Retirement for Unusual Beings,” I recited. “Like the name suggests, you will be taking care of… well… odd individuals.”

I paused for a moment, noticing that everyone said they received a letter from Dr. Chancellor, but no one mentioned an interview. “Did you meet Dr. Chancellor before you accepted the job?” I asked quietly, not wanting anyone else to hear.

“No,” she whispered. “He said to come here, and I could start without delay.”

I said nothing back. I was too busy sorting through my thoughts, trying to decide why he insisted on meeting me. Maybe he only interviewed charge nurses. I’d have to ask Connie if I wanted the truth.

Jaylen came around the corner carrying an armful of towels, and she set them down as she saw the new girl. She greeted her kindly. “Why don’t you come with me? I’m about to visit room 202,” Jaylen said.

“I’ll come as well,” I said, grabbing my chart. “I have to check on him since he started a new medication and tell Dr. Chancellor how he’s doing.”

The three of us made our way to room 202, knocked, and entered. The room was a true bedroom, no different than a regular room in a rest home. An elderly man sat on his bed, staring absent-mindedly at the wall. I wasn’t sure why he was in Salem Hill, but I also didn’t ask. He was so normal looking compared to the other residents. It made me wonder what he had done. Was he a murderer or a psychotic recovering drug addict? He looked like he fit the bill for both.

I walked further into the room. “Mr. Chaney, are you okay?” I asked.

He stood shakily, fingernails bloodied and torn. “I’m not sure the new medication is working,” he whispered.

“What do you mean?” I asked, walking toward him and grabbing a glove to examine him.

He stared at me, pupils dilating rapidly. “I can feel it…”

Suddenly, a sickening crack echoed around the room, and Mr. Chaney flung himself into the door. Jaylen and the new girl scurried out of his way. He fell to the ground, writhing and yelling in agony. His back arched upwards, and his skin began to tear, exposing his spine and tendons. Fur sprouted from his arms and legs, and his teeth began to fall out, clacking onto the floor and scattering. Blood gushed from his body, and a terrible ripping sound splintered the silence.

I was too scared to move, much less run. I couldn’t even breathe. The floor beneath me began to change, and the room shifted. Grass grew beneath me. The air grew muggy and hot, seeping into my scrubs and clinging to my skin. Trees sprouted around me, rapidly growing and changing. A full moon glowed above us, mimicking the beauty of the night sky. The floor rumbled, and gravestones erupted from the ground. The room was becoming the outside of the rest home. It was changing to fit his needs.

“WE NEED TO LEAVE!” Jaylen shouted. She ran to the last remaining wall of the room and pulled down a red latch. An alarm blared above us, but it was too late.

Mr. Chaney tossed Jaylen and grabbed Janet. Janet screamed, but her horrified yell was stifled as he bit into her neck, crushing her windpipe. Then, he tore her head from her body with one swift movement. Blood sprayed across me, and my stomach churned at the metallic scent and taste. Jaylen slowly got up and crawled to me. We froze in place as Janet’s body collapsed and her head rolled in front of us. Mr. Chaney was no longer the shaky human. He had transformed.

I looked toward the door in fear, noticing silver bars slowly lowering from the ceiling to cover it. Whatever Jaylen had pulled triggered a lockdown for the room. It was now or never. Fearfully, we raced to the door just before the bars covered it. I opened the door, and we fell into the hallway. But it didn’t stop Mr. Chaney. He rammed into the bars, howling and snarling as his clawed hands touched the silver and burned down his flesh. The smell of burned skin and singed hair filled the air. His jaws snapped as he tried to bite us, and I kicked his door. It slammed shut, and silence filled the empty hallway.

Jaylen and I both heaved a sigh of relief on the ground, but that relief was short-lived. We looked up to see Dr. Chancellor standing over us.

He sighed, staring at the door. “Mr. Chaney’s new medication isn’t working, is it, Ms. Shay?”

I shook my head. His nonchalant attitude frightened me more than anything.

“And the new girl… is dead?” he asked, seeing the spray of blood across my scrubs.

“Yes,” I said, taking a deep breath.

“Well… once he’s calmer, we will go back in and sedate him. Then, we can collect Janet’s remains.”

I nodded, and he walked back toward his office, writing swiftly on a notepad. I wasn’t sure where we’d bury her or if we’d bury her at all. I didn’t want to ask. Part of me knew that she’d be fed to the residents or become one herself.

Poor girl. Salem Hill wasn’t welcoming to all who braved its doors.

I’ll update you all soon. Hopefully…

Link to Part One: https://www.reddit.com/r/BloodcurdlingTales/comments/1u2c9fb/salem_hill_rest_home_retirement_for_unusual_beings/

Link to Part One: