I decided to wait, and keep an eye on the police’s public page and their missing persons bulletin. Maybe they’d eventually check out the basement of the asylum. Maybe they’d receive a missing persons report for the security guard. Either way, they might eventually find the body and take care of things.

In the meantime I had my band-tasks to do.

“I can’t believe we have to do this essay already,” Ellias groaned. He had the assignment sheet in hand. “I mean, we have better things to do than write a report on early colonial forestry.”

Christian was gently convincing Mr Slithers out of his hideyhole. “I don’t mind,” he said. The python wasn’t cooperating , instead coiling tighter into the dark space. “I don’t think he’s coming out, Lexi,” he informed.

“That’s okay,” I said. “You said you fed him yesterday, right?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I can’t really pick him up for a little while.”

“Well… maybe this weekend then,” I said. “Could you just lift his hideyhole so I can get some texture photos?”

“Sure, if you’re quick.” Christian lifted the hollow stump and I looked in.

The python’s eyes watched me as I raised the camera. I only took three photos before signaling Christian it was okay to put it back down.

I went over to Sierra and started loading the photos to her computer.

“These are good,” she said as they opened up. “That rez is awesome.”

“I adjusted the setting to take really big photos,” I explained.

Christian’s bedroom was quiet for a long moment as we all bent down over our own little work stations. Christian, having finished the task of figuring out what our equipment situation would be, was currently gently plucking strings on the bass, getting the transitions between notes right before they started their full-blown band practice.

“Guy’s, I think we’ve come to an agreement on our band name,” he said. “We’ll be the Rusty Scales.”

Lee was nodding, agreeing to this sentiment.

Sierra listened for the explanation while Christian let a note hang.

“Our album covers will be different kinds of scales. We could have an album called ‘Not to Scale’ too, but that’s a bit far in the future. For this one we should do something like Mr Slithers but make him rust colored or something.”

“We also have the option of playing with the scales of justice,” Lee pointed out, so we get a lot of different plays from this one name.”

Sierra and I nodded along, Christian shrugged and said, “works for me.”

“Can we come over in a few days to do a full photo shoot with Mr, Slithers?” Lee asked Christian.

Christian looked at the tank where Mr Slither’s was currently doing his best to stay out of sight. “If he’s feeling up to it, then sure. I don’t mind.”

Lee pumped her fist. “Yes,” she said. “It’s finally coming together.”

---

I returned to the asylum again. It was concerning how well I knew the route to the basement now. I swallowed hard as the maintenance door came into view. My heart beat faster. It felt like I was willingly walking into a terrifying dream, but I knew if I messed this up I might not walk back out of it.

This is crazy, I thought. Why would somebody sane want to live here at all? And if it really was a monster, why did I think I could communicate with it?

But I had to focus on the task at hand, and slowly approached the maintenance door. 

“Hello?” I asked. 

There was no sound from the door.

I waited a long time.

“I brought you something,” I said.

My hand pulled out the small plastic wrapped bundle from my purse.

I felt foolish. Nobody was here. And moreso, maybe Officer Leblanc was right about one thing. Maybe this was all made up. Even if it was all made up by my subconscious as a means to fill in for something else. Although, I wasn’t sure what exactly it was trying to fill in for.

My feet started to complain about standing on the concrete. I shined my light around the floor and found a somewhat cleaner spot.

I sat down there, ignoring the dusty smell.

I waited some more.

The sandwich was growing warm in my hand. It was a thick slice of leftover ham and deli mustard on plain white bread. I wondered if this was all just a waste of my time and a waste of food. Even if they were just scraps I found lying around.

I sighed.

Then I heard it. It was a quiet, scuffling sound, much like I’d heard before.

I listened.

It was just on the other side of the maintenance door. My heart rate picked up again, and I sat up into a crouch so if I had to I could run.

The door’s lock clicked and started to pull open. A small, ghastly pale hand wrapped around the chipped, painted wood and one of those pink eyes peered out through the crack as it opened wider, then wider.

The creature was watching me. I held the sandwich out so it could see I came with gifts.

It shrank back, the hand disappearing into the black and the eye vanishing.

I almost sighed again. Why did I think this would work? Of course a figment of my psychotic imagination wasn’t going to come over and have a chat with me.

I started to stand, and bumped my back against the brick of the wall and suppressed a curse. A second later I let out the breath. I didn’t know what I had done to my back but it hurt. Even after a couple days. It wasn’t like a muscle soreness hurt. Everytime I bumped it against something it felt like slamming it into the concrete all over again. In the mirror, though, there was only a shadow of a bruise, nothing more. Nothing that indicated this level of pain.

Another scuffle made me freeze, perched precariously in a half crouching position.

The eyes were back, this time I saw some of the face as well. The skin was sickly pale and the cheeks sunken from malnutrition or illness.

I slowly– very, very, slowly– raised the sandwich to her. The face retreated into the darkness but the eyes continued to watch me.

I wasn’t going to get her to come out like this. I gave the sandwich a gentle toss. The eyes vanished in the same instant with another scuffling sound.

I didn’t dare move. She had come back before, maybe she would again.

It felt like forever, but she did reappear. At first, just like before, two pink eyes staring at me from the dark, then she slowly pulled the door open farther with her pale hand. The finger nails, I saw this time, were long and unkempt. Many of them were odd shapes and angles from being broken off, and all of them had a dark something in the quicks I hoped wasn’t blood, but knew it probably was.

She took her first step into the light of the hallway. It wasn’t a lot of light, but it was enough to make out some details. She was very thin, almost wirey looking and many of her bones were clearly visible. The clothes clung to her frame in shreds and rags. I didn’t know what color they were originally supposed to be, but now they were a mottled brown and grey.

Her eyes didn’t leave me as she took another cautious step toward the little plastic package.

Her back was hunched over like a frightened cat’s until she reached the sandwich. Only then her eyes dipped down to the plastic package.

She sniffed.

I remained as still as I could, aware any movement could frighten her away again.

In a quick motion she snatched the sandwich and bolted back to the maintenance door. She crouched in front of it staring at me again. And then she turned to the sandwich and sniffed at the plastic packaging before biting and pulling at the wrapper which shredded in her teeth.

She spat it out and gave me a dirty look but continued to peel the plastic away, this time using her fingers. 

Then she smelled it and gave a little excited smile before sinking her teeth into the food.

I watched as the girl ate voraciously.  She didn’t stop until the plastic was just a husk, though she did sniff it for a long moment.

Then she turned to me and stared. Her eyes continued to reflect the light in a unique way I’d never seen on a human before, but she looked like a human other than that. 

Probably she was just homeless  and had been for a long time.

I opened my mouth and took in a breath. I started to ask “who–” but she was gone almost as fast as the sound came out of my mouth. The maintenance door swung with a creak after her. There was a great clattering sound in there. Then the silence that this place tended to hold. Maybe she’d come back if I waited, but I figured I’d poked at her enough now.

She was just a person. A scary person but still just a person. There were no demons here.