kyleshouse
patreon
Hospital House - Part 2
🕑 Added 2023-02-05 10:40:41 +0000 UTC
I gasped from the pool of darkness that held me down. It was as if I had been under the black depths of water and now, having just found air, I had awaken up.
I instantly could tell I was moving, only, I was flat on my back and we were progressing forward. Thick, ropy flat straps held my arms and legs to the stretcher. I strained against them for a moment but quickly discovered I was still too weak to do much damage.
What was puzzling was that while moments earlier I had been in a dark, decaying abandoned hospital, at this moment, there were bright lights everywhere and the ward seemed to be buzzing. I craned my head up to look around and saw doctors and nurses bustling around. One doctor was writing notes onto a clipboard, while another woman seemed to be leading a man, who was walking with a bow-legged gait, down the hall. He seemed to be struggling to walk correctly as another nurse held an enema bag high in the air.
But what was astonishing was every single doctor in the ward was wearing a black uniform. The coats were black, the nurses uniforms were black. Even the woman pushing a cart down the hallway was wearing a black uniform that said “Striper” on it. Clearly this hospital's uniforms were different than usual.
But wait a second.
There was no way this hospital was even supposed to be open. Hospital House had been closed since the 1970s. I figured I must have fallen asleep or something, which yielded this nonsense. I must have been dreaming.
I tried to pinch myself to wake up, but because the nurses had bound my arms so tightly to the stretcher, I couldn’t move them in any direction. I’d simply have to wait until they got me off the bed to wake up. Besides, this wasn’t the worst dream to be having. Hospitals were safe places. People were healed in hospitals, even creepy ones from the 1970s.
Eventually, after going through several maze-like hallways, I was pushed into a large room where I could see about nine other patients in beds sleeping. They all were wearing the standard hospital gown and medical masks over their mouths. A few of them appeared to have their arms or legs in braces of some sort. One of them had their neck in a straight brace, preventing them from moving at all.
I felt a pang of sympathy. I had remembered a friend of mine breaking her back in grade school. She had to wear that fucking brace for four months everyplace she went and do physical therapy. The four nurses who had been handling my gurney slid the bottom of the sheet underneath me and transferred me to the bed.
“The doctor will be in to see you in just a moment,” the male nurse said, refastening the straps so I still couldn’t move. What was odd was he fastened my legs as well.
“Is this necessary?” I asked weakly. “I won't fall out of the bed.”
“Standard protocol for when we have patients come in.” The nurse responded. “The barber, stripper and doctor will be in soon, don’t worry.”
Barber?
I looked around the room in the bed and struggled some more, but no matter how hard I tried, I could not get the straps to budge. But by then, the nurses had left the room and I was left alone with the other patients.
“Can one of you help me?” I asked the nearest patient. The woman, with tattered hair, just looked at me from behind her mask and moaned slightly. Some drool fell from under her mask, slowly making its way down her chin and onto the tattered bib that rested on her chest.
“Please!” I begged flailing now trying to get free. The straps rustled as I moved.
“There’s no need to be making all that noise now,” a voice said, appearing beside me.
I jumped. Another nurse, different from the one before, appeared next to my bedside. This one was wearing a set of tattered scrubs and seemed to be clinging to this side of life and death. What was unusual was her nails. They were long and brutal.
I was suddenly aware that the nurse was frowning.
She looked at my wet pants and then at my face. Her eyes darted back and forth.
“Are you serious?” The nurse said, frowning. “What is this?”
I stammered out an apology.
“You can’t let her see this! If she finds out you’re a bedwetter….”
“Wait but I’m not. I’m not supposed to be here. I don’t know how I got here.” I was babbling at this point.
But the nurse reached over and threw a blanket over me before pressing a button on the wall.
“You need to be honest with her. It’ll be easier for all of us.”
A bing resonated throughout the hospital, no doubt calling others to my area.
“Hold on a second,” I suddenly grew nervous. “Just let me up. I can get out of here and go home.
But the nurse just looked at me, her eye sockets looking mournfully in my direction as a strained noise in the hallway grew louder.
The noise was harsh. It was the sound of a nail grinding down a chalkboard getting progressively louder.
Then a squeaking.
That’s when the moans in the room started.
***
It was as if someone was dragging an ax on a concrete floor while walking down the hall. The grinding noise grew louder and louder.
Meanwhile, in the room, the haggard looking woman next to me began to moan louder and shake. The patient across from me struggled in his straps, straining to get free. Only, the skin on his arms was rubbed raw from past attempts. There were tiny spots of blood on the sheets to prove that.
The noise got louder and louder and suddenly it stopped. The room collapsed into silence. It was as if someone had hit mute.
I craned my neck up to try and see what was happening. But the head straps only allowed me an inch of movement.
The door swung open.
It was the nurse from earlier, the one who had plunged the syringe into my shoulder. Framed in the doorway, like Gehngas Khan himself standing over conquered land, she took a slow look around the room.
As the dark nurse walked to the first bed, the nurse with the raspy voice began to speak, the disembodied voice almost narrating the moment. “All patients must not be sick, they must stay well, no one dies under her eye.”
What?
Nurse Motina is here, to get you better. Lie still and quiet and recover. Don’t force the night nurse to stay and hover. Silence is health. Noise is sick.
As I watched from the corner of my eye, the nurse, who I guess was called Nurse Motina, checked the first patient and then moved to the next. As she moved to each bed, the axe grinding cart squeaked behind her.
It felt as if the room was holding its breath.
Nurse Motina leaned over one patient and stared for a moment. The man, with a mask covering his mouth and a ratty hospital gown draped over him, had moments earlier had his eyes open. Now he lay perfectly still as the dark nurse stared deep at his body.
She turned away and the man appeared to exhale until...
The man let out a violent sneeze that caused everyone to jump.
Nurse Motina rounded back around, her hair moving so fast that it appeared to float back down against her shoulders as if suspended in zero gravity.
“He’s still sick!” She cried. Her voice was flat, but still managed to echo across the room at the same time. It was as if it were coming from inside his very soul and in the room at the same time. It caused me pain to hear it, as if a migraine was creeping from the back of my mind.
The man gurgled from behind the mask and shook his head rapidly. He was yelling but for some reason it seemed as if the mask just muffled all noise.
“Don’t worry my sweet boy,” nurse Motina said from within, cradling the man’s head in her arms, pressing his face against her chest. “I’m here to get you better. We will flush the nasty fluids out of you and replace them with good ones. You will leave here a happy boy. A well boy.”
As she cradled the scared man, her nails grew slightly longer, her lipstick darkened slightly. Her face seems to change. No longer riddled with deep purple and burgundy lines, the rivers almost seemed to glow golden.
Tears dripped down the man’s scared face as the cart was pulled to the table.
The other set of nurses loosened the straps and harnesses that held the man down and turned him over. At this point, the man sounded like he was hyperventilating from behind the mask, but for some reason his voice was barely above a gurgle.
“When my patients have colds, it’s best they have a full cleaning in order to stay healthy,” Motina said authoritatively as the nurses unceremoniously ripped off the old, tattered nursing gown off the man.
I did a double take.
The man was wearing a diaper.
A thick, white cloth diaper, packed tightly together by a pair of translucent plastic pants. What was remarkable was there was a large padlock keeping them on.
I tried to look away, to help the man preserve his dignity, but it was impossible. On the plastic pants were little tiny dancing diapered animals.
One of the nurses patted the back of the mass of diapers and instructed the man to lift his legs up one at a time so she could remove the plastic pants. The man refused for a moment, struggling, but then looked back. The mask on his face had fallen off. In its place, in his mouth was the source of the quiet gurgling.
The man had an extremely large pacifier in his mouth, that moments earlier, the mask had been covering. The bright red contrasted sharply against the paleness of the room.
I froze at this sight and then blushed. The man was probably having bladder issues and was being abused by the poor medical staff. This was all explainable.
But as the padlock was undone and the plastic pants removed, the nurses proceeded to do the unthinkable. Another nurse, carrying a large rubber bag that was filled with some sort of liquid with a long plastic nozzle, approached the table.
I had never heard a grown man cry before, but the man was weeping as the nozzle slid into his backside. After a moment, he grew quiet, no doubt because the nurse was squeezing the rubber bulb. I cringed imagining what he was feeling, the liquid flooding inside his most intimate areas… the humiliation knowing that he’d have to release it soon.
It was all a bit much.
After what seemed like ten minutes, the nozzle was removed and the cloth diaper was tugged back up onto the man and the plastic pants locked back on.
Nurse Motina’s lips curled into a slight smile. “You need to hold that enema for ten minutes. If you do not, we’ll do another until you figure out how to be a good boy.”
The man’s sobs grew louder as he struggled to hold the enema.
But he was the least of my problems.
The nurse looked at me and her eyes unpacked my body. She stepped over towards me. What was fascinating was that I heard her take each step towards me, but she looked like she was gliding towards me.
It was then that I realized the first time I had seen her, I had not really seen her. But now, I was really seeing her. Before the room was dark. But now, in the harsh lights of the Hospital Ward, I could see more than her glowing eyes.
Now, I could see her skin.
Her pale skin up close was smooth, but you could see slight cracks in its foundation. As if right underneath the glow of her skin was a cracked porcelain dish that was on the cusp of exploding. I could tell the nurse was at one time objectively pretty, beautiful even. Even the dark red lipstick that caused her lips to pop was working for her.
I was afraid.
And when she looked directly over me, my body started to tremble slightly. When Nurse Motina opened her mouth, I tried to push back into the hard mattress underneath me.
The springs tweaked and popped under my fear.
The nurse said something about my situation. But all I could see were the fangs that slightly protruded from her canines. They weren’t long or anything. They just… poked out slightly as she spoke. But the real fear came when I realized the reason for my fear… her mouth was indeed larger than it should have been.
The cheshire smile she made as she continued speaking, cracked its way to her ears. The nutcracker like grin opened and closed as she made sounds.
My brain finally focused on her words.
“A broken arm?” Her voice was soft.
The male nurse who had first encountered me earlier nodded. “Yes nurse.”
“Is that all?”
The man nodded.
But the nurse sniffed the air and licked her lips. “What’s that smell?”
The male nurse grew quiet.
But Nurse Motina looked over my body, searching for what was no doubt my shame.
The room was quiet, save for the man in the opposite bed groaning while he tried to hold the enema.
Suddenly, Motina pulled the sheet off the bed and screamed. “Are you kidding me?” Her hair floated upwards as she yelled.
“I don’t get it.” The nurse sniffed dramatically as she leaned back over my face. I struggled with the straps that held me down. They felt tighter as the woman continued to stare down at me. “We are here to care for you. Make you better. And this is how you repay us…”
I began to notice that as she spoke, she worked herself into a frenzy. The cracks underneath her porcelain skin began to grow dark purple and burgundy as she grew angrier and angrier. Her eyes looked as if they were glowing and her hair, once dark and long and thick, looked as if it began to thin.
“My husband tells me I shouldn’t be here all night, caring for little boys like you. But instead I come. Determined to help.” She looked up for a moment as I shirked back onto the bed. She then looked down back at me and pushed herself inches from my face. “But if I couldn’t help my own son… I’m going to help you. You will be better and you will be protected when it’s time for you to leave this hospital. I will keep you safe. You will be a safe boy”
Her eyes darted across my face searching for a response. She breathed heavy and her eyes glowed into my soul.
But it wasn’t a warmth I got from her.
No.
Her breath was cold.
The man in the bed opposite us wailed as he no doubt failed at holding in the enema.
“You need proper protection,” the nurse barked to the other nurse in the room. “Get the supplies out.”
“Wait, hold on.” I yelled as the room was moving again. “It was an accident.” I looked over the older nurse from earlier. “Tell her,” I pleaded. “TELL HER.”
But he’d grown quiet. So quiet, that I thought he had died standing up in the corner.
The other nurses gathered around my bed and went to work. The first one began to cut off my pants, my tee shirt, everything.
I struggled hard trying to get free. But the straps held.
Now, naked on the bed, I tried to twist away to protect my modesty. But the nurses worked quickly. One of them pulled out a straight edged razor and warned me to hold still. The razor looked dull, it looked old. I held my breath as he scrapped the razor over the hair on my privates and removed the hair. It seemed like it took forever as my manhood was wiped away.
I didn’t dare move.
I didn’t want to be maimed.
I closed my eyes.
I felt latex gloves slather lotion and other creams on my body as the nurses did their work. Something was inserted into my bottom. I felt liquid enter me and fill me up. My abdomen expanded as the enema flowed inside of me. I felt what felt like a towel placed underneath me and tightly pulled around my waist.
I didn’t realize it, but I had begun to cry at that moment.
Next I felt the plastic pants wrap around my lower body and then be snapped into place. The padlock was pulled shut and after what felt like an eternity, the nurses all stopped moving and I opened my eyes.
I looked around the room surprised to not hear anyone. In fact, the entire room was dark and empty, no other patients, no Nurse Motilina. No moans of the other patients.
But the thick diaper was real.
The plastic pants were real.
The chain around my waist was real.
The crinkles were real.
The tears running down my face were real.
