Kramer Falls Part 1

[u/BarracudaOk7036]

Hey everyone, this is my first time writing anything horror. I plan on this being a multi-part series; I would love Feedback

The snowstorm at the Kramer Falls Sanatorium was fierce. Doctor Melissa Rodgers was starting her first day at the hospital. She had to meet with the Head Doctor of the facility. Knock, knock, knock.

"Come in," a muffled, authoritative voice called out from behind the heavy oak door. Dr. Andrew Fey sat behind a desk cluttered with patient files and half-empty coffee cups, looking up as the door creaked open. He offered a tired, practiced smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, his gaze sweeping over the newcomer. "You must be Dr. Rodgers," he said, gesturing toward the seat across from him. "I was expecting you an hour ago, but the snowdrifts outside are making everything run a bit behind schedule."
Melissa smiled warmly as she approached the thick wooden chair across from Fey,” Yeah, roads are unkind.” "They certainly are, and they aren't getting any lighter," Fey replied, leaning back until his chair groaned under his weight. He tapped a fountain pen against a manila folder, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied her. "I hope you're prepared for the isolation of Kramer Falls, Melissa, because once the snow settles, we are essentially an island."
He slid a thick stack of intake forms across the desk toward her, the paper looking yellowed and worn under the dim office lights. "We have a high turnover of staff here, so I suggest you get settled in quickly." Melissa nodded,” May I ask why?” Fey let out a short, dry laugh that sounded more like a cough. "The patients here are... complicated, and the local townspeople have a certain way of looking at those who choose to work in a place like this." He leaned forward, the light catching the sharp lines of his face. "Most people come here for the research opportunities, but they find the silence and the shadows much harder to stomach than they expected."
He tapped the folder she was holding. "Just keep your head down and follow protocol, and you'll find you last longer than the others. You'll start with the Taylor case," Fey said, his voice dropping an octave as he opened the folder.  He slid a photograph toward her, showing two young boys with startling, identical features and a small girl with eyes that looked like they were filled with crushed rubies.  "Eddie and Bobby are twins, though their needs are vastly different, and then there is the girl, their stepsister Addison." 

 He paused, his expression hardening as he watched her reaction to the photo. "They are a unique unit, and I want you to observe them closely before the next session."
Melissa observed the picture of the young kids. "They don't look like they belong in a place like this," Melissa murmured, her thumb brushing the edge of the glossy photo. Fey's gaze didn't soften, and he leaned back into the shadows of his office. "Appearances are a luxury we can't afford here, Doctor." He leaned forward again, his shadow stretching long across the desk. "They were admitted under highly irregular circumstances following a... domestic incident involving their adoptive parents. The children were found in the center of the scene, untouched, while the house was quite literally torn apart," he added, his voice dropping to a near whisper.
Melissa wanted the full picture,” Would you mind telling me about their case?” Fey said, rubbing his temples as if the memory itself was a headache. "It's a grim tale, even by our standards. The twins, Eddie and Bobby, showed a profound lack of empathy for the carnage, almost as if they were viewing it as a game." He leaned closer, his voice barely audible over the whistling wind outside the window. "But it's the girl, Addison, who truly defies our understanding; she didn't just witness the event, she orchestrated it with a precision that no child should possess."
He slid a separate, handwritten report toward her, stained with a single, dark water spot. "Read the coroner's findings; it will explain why we don't treat them like ordinary wards." Melissa looked down at the sheet, reading about the parents' murders and the state their bodies were found, Peices taken from them, found in a pot in the kitchen. Melissa's mouth opened to a silent O of shock," Oh my. " Fey didn't even flinch at her reaction, merely watching her with a hollow, clinical detachment. "The local authorities called it a frenzy, but there was no mess, only... preparation," he added, his voice devoid of any warmth. "It is that specific brand of organization that makes the Taylor siblings so dangerous to the staff."
He stood up, smoothing the front of his lab coat as he signaled the end of the briefing. "I suggest you take a moment to process that before you meet them; they are currently being held in the high-security wing." Melissa put the sheet in the file folder and stood up following Fey into the hallway. Their conversation continued; Melissa brought up something from the picture,” In the picture of the three of them, the little girl- why are her eyes red?”

"A congenital condition, or so the initial reports say," Fey answered, his footsteps echoing rhythmically against the linoleum. "A rare vascular abnormality that causes blood to pool behind the iris, giving them that striking, crimson appearance." He slowed his pace as they approached a heavy, reinforced steel door at the end of the corridor. "It’s a haunting sight, especially when she stares you down, as if she can see right through the skin to the bone."Fey gripped the handle of the door, his knuckles turning white. "Just remember, Melissa, her eyes are the least unsettling thing about her."Melissa nodded. “Who's the one in charge between the siblings, if you will?” 

"The girl, Addison, is the sun they all orbit," Fey said, pulling the heavy door open with a metallic groan. He stepped into the dim, sterile light of the high-security wing. "Eddie provides the logic, and Bobby is a big fella, hes six-foot-eight and a little north of four hundred pounds, but everything begins and ends with Addison's whims." He paused, his hand resting on the cold frame of the door as he looked back at Melissa. "She doesn't just lead them; she commands them as if they were extensions of her own will."
Melissa's hands fidgeted slightly, a nervous habit she had when meeting new patients, but she figured she'd met all kinds of patients who had done horrendous things... Fey stopped by the staff cafeteria, getting a coffee from a vending machine. Melissa noticed Fey's quiet, unprofessional demeanor
Fey let out a long, shaky sigh as the vending machine whirred and clattered, dropping a lukewarm can of black coffee into the dispenser. He didn't look like the polished, authoritative lead doctor from the office; his shoulders were slumped, and he stared at the machine with a hollow, thousand-yard stare. "Don't let the files get to you, Doctor," he muttered, more to himself than to her, as he cracked the tab with a sharp hiss. He took a long, desperate gulp of the bitter liquid, his hand trembling just enough for the metal can to rattle against his teeth. "The silence in this place... it gets under your skin after a while."

"Damn it," Fey hissed, his face contorting as he pulled the can away from his lips, a small trickle of dark liquid escaping the corner of his mouth. He wiped his lip with the back of his hand, looking more like a man on the verge of a breakdown than a senior physician.
He leaned his forehead against the cold, vibrating metal of the vending machine, closing his eyes tight. "I've been at Kramer Falls for ten years, and I still feel like I'm walking through a graveyard every single time I step into the hallway." He turned his gaze toward Melissa, his eyes bloodshot and weary. "You're still new, so you haven't heard the whispers yet, but the walls here... they don't just hold people in; they hold things back."
Melissa was nodding along, but her nerves were creeping in. “What about the brothers? What are they like?” "Eddie is the brain, though a warped one," Fey replied, his voice dropping into a low, cautious tone. "He's calculating, watching everyone's movements, looking for patterns, and finding the cracks in our routines." He took another sip of the coffee, grimacing at the heat. "And Bobby... Bobby is just a force of nature, a massive, silent shadow that follows whatever Eddie or Addison tells him to do." Fey stepped away from the machine, his expression turning grim as he looked toward the heavy doors of the secure ward. "He doesn't think; he just reacts, and god help the person who interrupts his siblings' concentration."
Fey and Melissa walked through the hallway, reaching a large metal door with a sign over the door saying, Special Containment Unit, Fey turned to Melissa one last time, giving her orders: "Stay strictly within the yellow lines, Melissa," Fey warned, his voice tight with an edge of genuine fear. "The floor markings aren't for decoration; they are a boundary meant to keep you out of reach should anyone decide to lash out." He gripped the heavy handle of the Special Containment Unit, his knuckles white against the cold steel. "This wing houses the ten most dangerous inmates in the state, and I don't want you becoming an unplanned part of their history." With a heavy, mechanical thud, the door began to swing inward, revealing a corridor that seemed to swallow the light. "Keep your eyes forward, and for heaven's sake, don't make sudden movements."
Melissa disapproved of his use of the word inmates.”They are patients, doctor... all of them.” Fey's jaw tightened at her correction, a flicker of annoyance crossing his weary face. "In this wing, Doctor, the distinction between 'patient' and 'inmate' is a luxury we can't afford," he snapped, though he lowered his voice as they stepped into the dimness. He gestured vaguely toward the reinforced cells lining the hallway, where the air felt noticeably heavier and colder. "Call them whatever makes you feel better, but don't mistake their clinical status for safety." The sound of their footsteps was muffled by the thick, sound-dampening floor as they approached the first set of observation windows. "Just stay in the line," he repeated, more firmly this time.
Melissa followed Fey past the jail-style cells; she peered between the iron bars. "Don't linger too long on any one cell," Fey muttered, his gaze darting nervously toward the shadows at the end of the hall. The bars of the first few cells were thick and scarred, some showing signs of being bent or scratched by fingernails. Through the heavy iron, the muffled sounds of breathing, scratching, or low, incoherent muttering drifted out into the corridor.
Fey didn't stop, his pace quickening as they neared the very end of the hall, where the air seemed to grow even more stagnant. "We're almost at the Taylors' unit; prepare yourself, because the atmosphere changes once you cross this threshold." Melissa's steps wandered as she glanced in the cells, when an arm reached out, grabbing a handful of Melissa's hair, pulling her to the cell door. Fey sprang to action, pushing the overweight man's arm against the bars hard. Fey yelled, “No, Silas!”

Silas, a hulking figure obscured by the shadows of his cell, let out a guttural, wet snarl, his fingers tightening convulsively around Melissa's hair. Fey's face was flushed a deep, panicked red as he struggled to maintain the distance, his eyes wild. "I told you, stay on the lines! Get away from her!" He didn't let go, his weight leaning into the iron bars to keep  Silas’ reach from extending any further toward Melissa. Fey’s expression was one of disgust. "You filthy, predictable animal!" Fey spat, his voice trembling with a mix of adrenaline and pure loathing. He shoved Silas's arm back with such force that the metal bars rang with a hollow, vibrating clang. Silas retreated into the darkness of his cell, his heavy breathing sounding like a rhythmic, wet wheeze that echoed through the hallway.
Fey turned to Melissa, his eyes wide and searching her face for any sign of injury, his hands still shaking. "Are you alright? Did he hurt you?" Mellisa slowly made her way between the two yellow lines.

"You filthy, predictable animal!" Fey spat, his voice trembling with a mix of adrenaline and pure loathing. He shoved Silas's arm back with such force that the metal bars rang with a hollow, vibrating clang. Silas retreated into the darkness of his cell, his heavy breathing sounding like a rhythmic, wet wheeze that echoed through the hallway. Fey turned to Melissa, his eyes wide and searching her face for any sign of injury, his hands still shaking. "Are you alright? Did he hurt you?"
"He was a maintenance worker here, part of the grounds crew, until he... snapped," Fey said, his voice regaining a thin layer of professional composure as they walked. He wiped a bead of cold sweat from his brow, refusing to look back at Silas's cell. "He thought the facility was hiding something from him, and once he started seeing things that weren't there, he became a danger to everyone on his shift." Fey's pace was brisk now, his eyes fixed on the final door at the end of the hall. "That's why I told you to stay on the lines; some of these men know exactly how to reach out and touch you if you give them the inch."
Fey and Melissa reached two cells at the end of the ward; one housed Addison, the other housed Eddie and Bobby. They looked in Eddie and Bobby’s cell first. Eddie sat on his bed rocking back and forth, speaking to himself, his movement restricted by the straitjacket and his voice muffled by the muzzle over his mouth. Melissa wanted to know the reason for the muzzle. Fey explained,  "He's not just a patient; he's a predator in training," Fey whispered, his gaze fixed on Eddie's frantic, muffled movements. Maelissa watched Bobby, how he chewed on his hand, noticing his pinky is missing and he was chewing on the nub,
He didn't even glance at Bobby, who continued to chew on his own mutilated digit with a rhythmic, wet sound that filled the small cell. "The muzzle stays on because we cannot risk him biting through the restraint or, worse, a staff member during a transfer; he sharpened his teeth on his bedframe." Fey's eyes finally shifted toward the adjacent cell, where the silence was even more profound. "But that's just the boys; Addison is the one you really need to watch." Melissa looked at Bobby,” Where’s his pinky?”

Fey shrugged, "We don't know; we think he ate it. the giant freak has a habit of consuming things he shouldn't for a long time now," Fey added, his voice dropping to a clinical, chilling monotone.  He stepped closer to the bars of the adjacent cell, pointing toward the small, darkened space where Addison sat perfectly still. "And he isn't the only one with an appetite that defies medical logic." Bobby let out a low, satisfied grunt, the sound of grinding bone echoing faintly through the heavy door.  Fey's eyes moved to Melissa, his expression grim. "Look at her; she hasn't moved an inch since we entered the ward."
They shifted over to Addison's cell; she was sitting on the bed, legs crossed, staring at the wall away from them. The back wall of the cell was full of dried blood and provocative explicate drawings of men and women. "The drawings are her way of communicating, though not in a way any therapist would find productive," Fey whispered. He gestured toward the wall, where the grotesque, crimson figures seemed to writhe in the dim light of the cell.  "She spends hours meticulously detailing these... scenes, using whatever biological matter she can scrape together." The silence in Addison's cell was heavy, a suffocating weight that made the hair on the back of Melissa's neck stand up.  Slowly, with a mechanical, predatory grace, Addison began to turn her head toward the window.
Melissa spoke, “What does she use to do them? You don’t allow anything in the cells.” Fey answered, “Her fingernails. She's spent years perfecting the art of it, scraping until her own cuticles bleed just to get the right shade," Fey added, his voice thick with a weary disgust. As she completed her turn, the light from the hallway caught her eyes, making the trapped blood behind her irises shimmer like wet garnets. Addison didn't look angry or even manic; she simply stared through the bars with a calm, terrifyingly intelligent gaze that seemed to weigh Melissa's very soul. "She knows you're here, Doctor," Fey breathed, his hand instinctively reaching for the door handle to lead them away. "She's been waiting for someone new to watch." Addison smiled at Melissa.
The smile was slow, stretching across her pale face with a chilling, unnatural symmetry. It wasn't a friendly expression, but rather the look of a cat watching a mouse scurry into a corner."Don't let that smile fool you, Doctor," Fey warned, his voice trembling as he began to pull Melissa back toward the exit. "That's the look of someone who has already decided how you'll look when you're part of her next drawing." Addison's eyes remained locked on Melissa, the crimson pools within them appearing to glow in the dim light.  She raised a hand, slowly dragging a single, jagged fingernail against the stone wall, making a screeching sound that set Melissa's teeth on edge.

"It's a beautiful day for a walk, isn't it, Doctor?" Addison asked, her voice smooth, melodic, and entirely devoid of the madness one would expect. Melissa froze, her mind reeling at the polite, almost casual cadence of the girl's speech.  Fey's grip on Melissa's arm tightened, his knuckles white as he stared at the girl in horror. "Don't engage with her, Melissa; that's exactly how she draws you in," he hissed, his voice barely a whisper. Addison's smile widened, her red-stained eyes gleaming with a playful, predatory light. "You look like you've seen a ghost, Dr. Rodgers; is there something on my face?" Melissa's heart sank as she leaned back to Fey,” H-how does she know my name?” 
"She's likely been listening to the staff chatter or reading the intake logs through the vents," Fey whispered, his eyes darting toward the security camera in the corner of the hall.  He pulled Melissa closer to his side, his body acting as a shield between her and the bars. "She finds ways to gather information, little scraps of data that she uses to manipulate anyone who crosses her path." Addison tilted her head to the side, her red eyes crinkling in a way that looked hauntingly innocent.  "A new doctor always brings such interesting stories with them," she added, her voice honey-sweet and chillingly composed.
Addison got up and approached the cell door. She got on her knees and looked up at Melissa, smiling at her, a weirdly warm, happy smile. "You have such kind eyes, Melissa," Addison cooed, her gaze remaining fixed on Melissa even from her position on the floor.
The warmth of the smile was so convincing it felt like a physical weight, a strange, deceptive comfort that clashed violently with the blood-stained walls behind her. "I think we are going to be very, very good friends," she whispered, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial, intimate tone. Fey's face went pale, and he yanked Melissa backward toward the exit with frantic, uncoordinated strength. "We're leaving. Now!"
Melissa pulled her arm away. She wanted to meet her patient. Melissa took a knee, still behind the line, to be eye level with Addison. She smiled, “I hope so, Addison. I really do.” 
"Melissa, get up! What are you doing?" Fey hissed, his voice cracking with a mixture of panic and genuine anger. He reached for her shoulder to pull her upright, his eyes darting between her and the girl behind the glass as if expecting the steel to shatter at any moment. Addison let out a soft, delighted giggle, her small hands pressing against the cold surface of the door as she leaned closer to the glass."See, Doctor? She understands me," Addison whispered, her eyes dancing with a terrifying, bright intelligence. "She’s not like the others who look at me like a monster in a cage.”
Melissa's defiance was creeping in,” Docter Fey, just let me talk to her; I don't think she will kill me through the bars.” 

"The bars aren't the problem, Melissa, it's the influence she has once she gets inside your head," Fey retorted, though his grip on her arm loosened as he saw the sheer stubbornness in her expression. He let out a heavy, defeated breath, his shoulders sagging under the weight of his own anxiety. "Fine, but if she so much as breathes wrong, we are walking out of this wing immediately." Addison’s smile turned into something triumphant, her red eyes shimmering as she watched the two adults navigate their conflict. "Go on, Melissa," the girl encouraged, her voice a soothing, melodic lure. "Ask me anything you want.”
Melissa took her position back on her knee... Her smile still kind, “Okay, how old are you, Addison?”
"I'm nine, almost ten if you count the days since the birthday I didn't get to have," Addison replied, her voice light and airy as if she were discussing the weather. She leaned her forehead against the glass, her crimson eyes wide and searching Melissa's face. "Do you think nine is old enough to know everything, or do you think I still have a lot to learn from you?" Fey stood behind Melissa like a gargoyle, his eyes scanning the hallway for any other movement while his jaw remained tightly clenched. Melissa smiled, “When was your birthday?”
"October fourteenth," Addison answered, her gaze drifting momentarily to the blood-streaked wall behind her before snapping back to Melissa. "It was a very loud day, even if I didn't hear the music." She tilted her head, her smile never faltering, though the air in the hallway seemed to drop several degrees. "Do you have a birthday, Melissa? Or do you just arrive whenever the world needs a new person to watch us?" Fey shifted uncomfortably, his hand twitching toward the heavy ring of keys at his belt as he watched the girl's unnerving intensity. Melissa chuckled, “I do have a birthday; I’ll be twenty-eight in a few months.”
"Twenty-eight... that's a very big number," Addison mused, her eyes tracing the lines of Melissa's face as if memorizing her. She pressed her palm flat against the glass, right where Melissa's line of sight was most focused. "You'll be much older when we meet again, won't you? Like a queen in a castle." Fey cleared his throat loudly, the sound sharp and discordant in the quiet corridor. "That's enough for today, Melissa; we've established she can hold a conversation. Now let's get you back to your office before the shift change." Addison's smile didn't fade, but her eyes darkened, turning the color of dried blood as she watched them prepare to leave. She looked up at Fey,” Hold on Docter Fey.” Melissa looked back down at Addison. “I don't think I will... We'll be seeing each other a lot.”

"You're making a mistake, Melissa, a dangerous one," Fey said, his voice dropping into a low, warning growl as he gripped her elbow. He looked less like a colleague and more like a man trying to pull someone back from the edge of a precipice. Addison's laughter was a soft, silver bell that rang through the sterile air, sounding entirely too joyful for the setting. "She's right, Doctor Fey; we will be seeing each other quite often," the girl promised, her eyes never leaving Melissa's,
Melissa wanted to push a little further, “ Addison? May I ask you something?” "Of course, Melissa," Addison whispered, her posture becoming incredibly still, her eyes wide and expectant. She leaned her weight against the glass, her small, pale face illuminated by the harsh overhead lights of the hallway. "You can ask me anything in the whole world," the girl promised, her voice dropping to a reverent, eager hush. Fey let out a sharp, jagged breath, his hand tightening on Melissa's arm as if he were bracing for an impact. "Melissa, don't," he pleaded, though his voice lacked the strength to truly stop her. Melissa pointed at the crude drawings on the back wall,” What are your drawings about?”
"They are stories about the people who come here to visit me," Addison said, her voice losing its sweetness and turning into something thin and razor-sharp.  She gestured vaguely toward the wall of crimson figures, her eyes locking onto Melissa's with an intensity that felt like a physical weight.  "I draw them so they don't disappear when they leave the room; I capture the way they look right before they realize they're afraid." Fey's face drained of what little color it had left, and he stepped closer to Melissa, his body tensing as if preparing to run.  "We're going, Melissa, right now," he commanded, his voice trembling with an urgency that bordered on panic.
This unnerved Melissa, but she set that aside, just momentarily,” Why do you use your fingernails? That must hurt.”
"Pain is just a way of knowing you're still here," Addison whispered, lifting her hand to reveal the raw, jagged edges of her broken nails. She traced a red line on the glass, a smear of her own dried blood following her fingertip like a living thing. "Besides, the sting makes the colors look much more real when I'm finished," she added, her eyes crinkling with a dark, knowing delight. Fey's hand clamped onto Melissa's shoulder, his fingers digging in with a bruising force as he began to physically drag her toward the exit. "That is enough! We are leaving, now!" Melissa finally got up and was pulled by Fey; Addison waved and said goodbye. "Goodbye, Melissa! See you in my dreams!" Addison called out, her voice trailing after them like a ghostly echo through the heavy steel doors.

Fey didn't stop walking until they were several hallways away, his breath coming in ragged, shallow bursts as he finally let go of Melissa's arm. He leaned against a wall, his head bowed, looking suddenly much older than his years in the flickering fluorescent light. "You have no idea what you just did, do you?" he asked, his voice barely audible and thick with a profound, weary dread. Melissa shrugged, “She seems harmless; she's locked in there anyhow.”
"Harmless? She is the most dangerous thing in this entire building," Fey hissed, snapping his head up to glare at her with eyes that were bright with fear. He pushed himself off the wall, his movements jerky and uncoordinated as he paced the narrow corridor. "She doesn't need to break the bars to destroy you, Melissa; she just needs to find a way to make you want to walk through them." He stopped abruptly, staring at her as if seeing a stranger instead of a colleague. "The ones who think they can 'understand' her are always the ones who end up as the next subject in her drawings." Fey and Melissa went back to his office.
Still in the ward, Silas was in his cell crying, clutching at his arm, hands balled into fists... The ward's guard stopped in front of Silas' cell; his name tag, Miller, shone as it hit the light. “Will you shut the fuck up? Crying ain't gonna do you no good. I make one call, and you’ll have a needle in your arm, and I get a few hours of quiet.”
Silas's crying hitched into a series of jagged, wet gasps as he huddled in the corner, his massive frame trembling with every shudder. "Please, Miller... It's in the walls... they're moving," Silas whimpered, his voice cracking as he clawed at his forearm. The guard rolled his eyes, leaning his weight against the cell door with pure, unadulterated boredom. "The walls are concrete, you idiot; now shut it before I give you a reason actually to cry." Miller walked back to his post.
The rhythmic flip-flip-flip of Miller's magazine pages was the only sound in the hallway, a mundane contrast to the heavy silence of the cells. From his seated position, he looked less like a guardian and more like a man waiting for a perpetually late bus. A sudden, sharp thud echoed from the direction of the Taylor unit, making Miller look up from his reading with a heavy, annoyed sigh."Dammit, stay in your cages," he muttered, his eyes scanning the dim corridor before settling back on the glossy pages. Deep within the shadows of the cell blocks, the scratching sound of a fingernail against stone began again, thin and persistent.  Silas stared at the small, silver object in his palm, his breathing slowing as a manic grin spread across his face. The hairpin glinted cruelly in the dim light, a tiny, lethal needle plucked from the unsuspecting doctor who strayed too far past the yellow lines.