St Ralph’s Hospital has been closed for a while but, in its day, it was a magnet for evil. The worst aspects of society gathered in its corridors. Inexplicable deaths happened with disturbing regularity. Killers patrolled the wards.
But that was a century ago. Now, for those going on the #DeadEndTours urban exploration of St Ralph’s, the only dangers they expect to encounter are the tales of a bloody history and the lurid ghost stories that have grown around the building. None of the explorers expect St Ralph’s is still a magnet for evil.
From the Book
“Welcome to the St Ralph’s Dead-End Tour,” Billy announced. “I appreciate the building was originally called St Raphael’s. But, here at the Dead-End Tour, we like to go with the less formal name.”
It had just turned midnight. A full moon, silver and fat, hung over the hospital behind him. Ghost-like clouds trailed across its brilliant surface as the tourists shuffled closer together for warmth and companionship against the night’s autumnal chill. They were all wearing thick coats, hats, scarves, and gloves, and looked like the most middle-class gathering of British housebreakers, all dressed in sensible M&S practical winterwear. Plumes of frosty breath were visible each time one of them exhaled. Someone’s teeth were chattering near the back of the modest crowd. A whispered conversation between one couple was falling lower and lower as they tried to continue a dispute without the sound of their voices drowning out Billy’s introductory welcome.
“For God’s sake, Petronella,” a well-spoken man muttered. “I don’t want you making a scene this evening. Try to keep that foul mouth of yours under control for once in your life.”
Petronella snorted with obvious disdain. “You don’t want me making a scene?” she echoed. “And you always get what you demand, don’t you?”
“Thank you all for being here this evening,” Billy called, his voice ringing clearly through the night. He was wearing an Under Armour Challenger tracksuit in mid grey, paired with dark Puma Anzarun trainers that had seen much better days. Because of his slim build and small stature, he knew the sportswear made him look like an untrustworthy chav. But he made allowances for the negative reactions to his appearance and knew those prejudices could be used to his advantage. Because tourists were constantly expecting him to empty their pockets, they were always pleasantly surprised by any small act of kindness he performed for them. Consequently, that would make them all the more generous with tips at the end of the evening – and he always made sure there was an opportunity for them to give tips at the end of the evening.
“Thank you for the fees you’ve paid us so we can host this tour,” Billy went on. “We’re shortly going to begin but, for the sake of health and safety, and for the sake of being responsible, there are a handful of points I want to make.”
He paused for a moment, waiting until the muttering couple at the back of the crowd had finally fallen silent. Once they’d stopped talking there was only the sound of faraway traffic on the Sandalwood Road and the night’s light breeze rattling the chain link fence that surrounded St Raphael’s Hospital. With the building behind him lit only by the moon’s silver beams, Billy figured he was presenting a sufficiently authoritative figure to command consideration as he went through the rules that needed to be followed for the night’s illicit exploration.
“Firstly,” he began. “There will be two tours going on this evening. I shall be leading the historical tour. The ghost tour will be led by my colleague, Tina.”
Genre: Horror
But that was a century ago. Now, for those going on the #DeadEndTours urban exploration of St Ralph’s, the only dangers they expect to encounter are the tales of a bloody history and the lurid ghost stories that have grown around the building. None of the explorers expect St Ralph’s is still a magnet for evil.
From the Book
“Welcome to the St Ralph’s Dead-End Tour,” Billy announced. “I appreciate the building was originally called St Raphael’s. But, here at the Dead-End Tour, we like to go with the less formal name.”
It had just turned midnight. A full moon, silver and fat, hung over the hospital behind him. Ghost-like clouds trailed across its brilliant surface as the tourists shuffled closer together for warmth and companionship against the night’s autumnal chill. They were all wearing thick coats, hats, scarves, and gloves, and looked like the most middle-class gathering of British housebreakers, all dressed in sensible M&S practical winterwear. Plumes of frosty breath were visible each time one of them exhaled. Someone’s teeth were chattering near the back of the modest crowd. A whispered conversation between one couple was falling lower and lower as they tried to continue a dispute without the sound of their voices drowning out Billy’s introductory welcome.
“For God’s sake, Petronella,” a well-spoken man muttered. “I don’t want you making a scene this evening. Try to keep that foul mouth of yours under control for once in your life.”
Petronella snorted with obvious disdain. “You don’t want me making a scene?” she echoed. “And you always get what you demand, don’t you?”
“Thank you all for being here this evening,” Billy called, his voice ringing clearly through the night. He was wearing an Under Armour Challenger tracksuit in mid grey, paired with dark Puma Anzarun trainers that had seen much better days. Because of his slim build and small stature, he knew the sportswear made him look like an untrustworthy chav. But he made allowances for the negative reactions to his appearance and knew those prejudices could be used to his advantage. Because tourists were constantly expecting him to empty their pockets, they were always pleasantly surprised by any small act of kindness he performed for them. Consequently, that would make them all the more generous with tips at the end of the evening – and he always made sure there was an opportunity for them to give tips at the end of the evening.
“Thank you for the fees you’ve paid us so we can host this tour,” Billy went on. “We’re shortly going to begin but, for the sake of health and safety, and for the sake of being responsible, there are a handful of points I want to make.”
He paused for a moment, waiting until the muttering couple at the back of the crowd had finally fallen silent. Once they’d stopped talking there was only the sound of faraway traffic on the Sandalwood Road and the night’s light breeze rattling the chain link fence that surrounded St Raphael’s Hospital. With the building behind him lit only by the moon’s silver beams, Billy figured he was presenting a sufficiently authoritative figure to command consideration as he went through the rules that needed to be followed for the night’s illicit exploration.
“Firstly,” he began. “There will be two tours going on this evening. I shall be leading the historical tour. The ghost tour will be led by my colleague, Tina.”
Genre: Horror
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