This will be my final post in the mental hospital, at least for now.

I'll explain.

Last night I came to work prepared, not just for my night shift, but to explore the sub-basement

tunnels afterward.

My backpack held an extra flashlight and an eight pack of batteries, a can of anti-rust

spray for the elevator and the locks along the way.

Water, food, lighters, and matches, plus a couple of candles for good measure.

I also included a large knife, which I would put around my waist once I got down there.

I was wishing I had a gun.

On the other hand, bullets ricochet, and who knows where one might end up if I fired

a pistol down there.

I could easily end up shooting myself, and that fact only made it more obvious because

I had no firearms knowledge or experience.

Unlike most of the security guards around the hospital, I had no aspirations to become

a cop.

My plan was simple.

Work my night shift, then at 7 a.m. when that day guard came on, I would tell him I was

going up to the roof for a smoke, and then I would just go down another ladder closer to

the hospital entrance to get out and leave for the day.

Matt hadn't seemed bothered or concerned when I used the exact excuse on him, and he was

the one coming in to relieve me, so I didn't think it would be an issue.

I'd used the key that I'd stolen to go back down the elevator and explore.

...