"I see them, they're everywhere.. why can't you see them..?"
Doctor J. Peirs was a neurosphychiatrist, partnered with Steven Foster. Together they ran a Hospital for turned in, orphaned and unwanted children with various mental disorders. Foster is the psychiatrist for the many children in his care. Neither of them had close families of their own or significant others. But, no matter how many children they treat in the 15.5 acre facility property, there was always a special patient that was turned down by many orphanages and finally, she was handed into the mental treatment facility. Her name is Holly, Holly Bixby. Holly used to be a shy and mindful child, until the countless tests, procedures and electroshock therapy sessions Dr. Peirs put Holly through for science and the better knowledge of autistic schizophrenia. But sadly for Holly none of those worked, like they worked on some of the other child patients of Dr. Peirs.
Holly was ten years old when she came into the care of James Peirs' and Steven Foster's care. Before her treatments from Dr. Peirs, she left the other children alone, and often drew quietly with the same sweet lullaby-like tune she hummed. But slowly, those sweet times deteriorated over the course of one and a half years of constant test after test. Until finally Holly Bixby, at the age of eleven and four months, was moved into a private room few children get to see. Instead of helping her schizophrenia, Dr. Peirs' tests had worsened it. She became more violent towards the care-takers, the children and Dr. Piers. Waldina, one of the few special care-takers was the only one Holly liked. And Foster, even if she hated talking about how she felt and what she was seeing as Foster put as "hallucinations", she liked him. But, there were the few times she went under the mood when she was put on new medications to see their affects on her worsened schizophrenia. All up until May second.. 1947. Holly had turned fourteen the day before. For a few days, a week even, Holly completely went silent. No matter how many times the nurses or Foster tried to make her talk she just wouldn't. A day before she 'lost her voice' Holly had told Foster what she was seeing, her visions were worsening every year. Getting more concerning and macabre. Her dreams became lucid, without her control on them, her eating habits died down to barely picking a crumb off her food.
"Now tell me Holly," Steven started, looking up from his small note pad about the size of a skinny children's book. "what are you seeing? Even in your dreams. If you would, please." With that Steven let Holly talk from the long couch like seat, lined with tacky floral velvet. "I see him. He turns my dreams to nightmares.. my best days to disasters. He came to me once, all the children left have them right beside them. I can't see mine though Foster." She gave a slight shuddering twitch as she looked around the familiar room, but, something didn't feel right. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She counted to ten before opening them with horror struck in her facial expression. The room had changed, Steven Foster was nothing but a rotting corpse, stuck in his usual position in his thickly cushioned chair, the nurse was slumped over, leaning into the wall looking like she was sucked dry of life. The room was darkened with the eerily horrifying crackling sound and breathy whispers. Blood oozed and seeped from the walls, creatures came and went, unholy, macabre. She started to panic before she screamed, holding her head.