The first room I entered off the main foyer revealed much about the demise of the building and its inhabitants.
I found evidence of combat. Bullet damage, hasty defenses, broken blades, shattered furniture, and blood which looked far fresher than it should. What intrigued me the most, however, was the clock mounted on the wall. There was no electricity in the building, and the clock had stopped working when the structure had been removed from the source of power.
Shortly before six, then, the orphanage had met its fate.
I don’t know how long the residents and staff held out. I don’t know if the staff slaughtered the residents, or if the residents butchered the staff. Perhaps there was a common enemy.
The information is as yet unknown.
What is known is that I am not alone.
There are ghosts here. A great many of them, and I doubt if many – if any at all – will be friendly.
I have iron with me, with which to disperse the ghosts should they come for me, but that is all. It’s time for me to stop writing, and to try and sleep. Daylight is nearly gone, and I suspect the dead will visit me soon enough.
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