CHICKEN

When Kyle was seven, his mother found him hiding in the bathtub.

He'd dragged his pillow and blanket down the hall, climbed over the side, and pulled the shower curtain closed.

"Kyle?" she called from the doorway.

"I'm in here."

She pulled the curtain back just enough to see him curled beneath his blanket.

"What are you doing in the bathtub, sweetheart?"

"Hiding from the monsters."

"In here?"

"They can't see me if I keep the curtain closed."

His mother looked at the pillow tucked beneath his head, then climbed into the tub beside him. She pulled the curtain closed again and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

Kyle fell asleep against her. By morning, one of her legs had gone numb, and he remembered her laughing as she tried to climb out, holding on to the sink and hopping on one foot.

Six years later, he still hated the dark. He knew monsters weren't real, obviously, but that didn't stop him from checking his closet before bed. Sometimes twice.

Halloween was even worse.

Tyler Briggs had started calling him Chicken in fourth grade, after Kyle cried during a field trip to a haunted corn maze. The name stuck. Last week Tyler had posted a video of Kyle jumping when somebody slammed a locker. Eighty-three likes. Kyle had counted every one.

He'd watched the video about twenty times, trying to figure out why everybody thought it was so funny.

Tonight, he was going to give Tyler something else to talk about.

"You don't have to go in," his mother said.

They were parked outside Mercy Hospital, a three-story brick building that had been empty for years before somebody turned its ground floor into a Halloween attraction.

People waited beneath strings of orange lights. Every few minutes, the front doors opened and another group came out, laughing and grabbing at one another.

"I know."

"We could go get ice cream."

"Mom."

"What? I'm just saying."

He looked at the line. A couple of kids from his school were standing near the front.

Great.

His mother followed his gaze.

"Is Tyler here?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Mom."

She didn't say anything else. He was glad. She knew all about Tyler. She'd even called the school after the video, which had only made things worse.

She handed him his phone. "Call me when you're finished."

"I will."

"And remember, you don't owe anybody proof of anything."

Kyle stared out the windshield.

Easy for her to say.

Before he got out, she straightened his collar.

"Love you, sweetheart."

"Love you too, Mom."

"And Kyle?"

He stopped with his hand on the door.

"You can come right back out if you don't like it. I won't be disappointed."

"I know, Mom."

He shut the door and headed toward the entrance.

Halfway there, he looked back. She was still watching him, one hand raised.

Kyle waved.

The ticket guy had a plastic eyeball hanging from the pocket of his bloody surgeon's coat.

"Going through alone?"

"Yeah."

"Brave kid."

Kyle tried not to smile.

The man handed him a laminated card. On one side was a map. On the other, printed in huge red letters, was one word.

CHICKEN

Seriously?

"That's your safe word," the man said. "If it gets too scary, say it to any employee and we'll get you out."

Kyle looked at the card.

"You couldn't pick something else?"

The man laughed.

"We've had grown men use it."

Kyle shoved the card into his pocket. He wasn't planning on needing it.

The first room was a morgue. Six bodies lay beneath white sheets, and Kyle kept his eyes on them as he walked past, waiting for one to move.

Nothing happened until he was almost through the door.

Something grabbed his wrist.

"AHH!"

A corpse sat up, laughing.

"Come back! I'm lonely!"

Kyle stumbled into the hallway, his heart pounding so hard it hurt. Once he caught his breath, he started laughing too.

Okay. That had been good.

The next room was full of creepy dolls whose heads turned when he walked past. After that came a surgeon with a buzzing saw, and then a woman who crawled out from under a bed so fast Kyle nearly fell over trying to get away.

By the time he reached the final hallway, he was actually having fun.

He'd made it through everything. Sure, he'd screamed a couple of times, but so what? Everybody screamed in haunted houses.

He pulled out his phone and took a picture of a bloody operating table.

Let's see Tyler do better.

At the end of the hallway were two doors. The one on the left stood open, revealing the lobby, where a woman was selling bottled water. The other was painted black.

Above it hung a wooden sign.

THE LAST WARD

Underneath, another sign read:

Not recommended for visitors under sixteen.

A woman dressed like an old-fashioned nurse sat beside the black door, reading a paperback.

She looked up. "All done?"

Kyle glanced toward the lobby.

"What's in there?"

"The last ward."

"Yeah, I can read. What's in it?"

"Something scarier than the rest."

He waited for her to tell him more, but she went back to her book.

"How old are you?" she asked.

"Thirteen."

She glanced at the sign above the door. "This one's pretty intense. You might want to skip it."

"How bad is it?"

"We've had people come out crying."

Kyle looked toward the lobby. He'd already made it through the rest of the hospital. It would suck to stop when there was only one part left.

"I'll be fine."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

She set her book aside. "All right. Same rules as the rest of the attraction. If you want out, say the safe word. Someone will come get you."

Kyle touched the card in his pocket.

Chicken.

Of course it had to be that.

"Got it."

The nurse stood and opened the black door.

"Watch your step. It's dark in there."

Kyle walked inside.

The door closed behind him, shutting out the noise of the attraction.

The hallway was longer than he'd expected, with stained ceiling tiles and dirty walls. An overturned wheelchair lay beside a drinking fountain, and somewhere ahead, water dripped steadily onto the floor.

Kyle waited for something to jump out at him. When nothing happened, he took out his phone and turned on the flashlight.

The beam caught a faded sign hanging crookedly above a doorway.

PATIENT ROOMS

He walked toward it, listening for footsteps or somebody breathing behind one of the doors. After the surgeon with the buzzing saw, he wasn't about to let another actor sneak up on him.

"Hey."

Kyle jumped and swung the light toward the voice.

A teenager sat on the edge of a hospital bed. He looked seventeen or eighteen, with messy brown hair and a hospital gown hanging off one shoulder.

"Jesus, dude. You scared me."

The teenager didn't laugh.

"Did you just come in?"

"Yeah."

"Then go back."

Kyle glanced around the room. There was a chair, a little cabinet, and a curtain hanging beside the bed.

"Is that your whole thing? Telling people to leave?"

"I'm serious."

Kyle grinned. "Okay. Pretty creepy."

The teenager looked past him into the hallway.

"Just go."

Kyle waited for him to jump up or do something disgusting. Maybe his head would spin around. That would be cool.

Instead, the teenager stood and walked toward him.

Kyle took a step back.

"Look," the teenager said quietly. "You don't have to prove anything to these people."

Kyle frowned. "What?"

"Just turn around and leave while you still can."

"Okay, dude. You're kinda freaking me out."

"Then go."

A bell rang somewhere farther down the corridor.

The teenager stopped talking. His expression changed as he looked toward the sound, and he backed toward the bed.

Kyle turned to see what had frightened him.

The hallway was empty.

When he looked back, the teenager was gone.

Kyle stepped into the room and swept his flashlight beneath the bed. There was nobody there. He checked behind the curtain, then looked at the cabinet, which was barely big enough to hold a stack of towels.

"Hello?"

No answer.

He moved the light across the walls, looking for a seam or a hidden door. The room was small enough that he could see every corner, and there was nowhere a person could have gone without passing him.

A door slammed somewhere in the building.

Kyle hurried back into the hallway, but stopped after a few steps and looked behind him.

The room was still empty.

He thought about turning around. Maybe he should just go back and tell the nurse he'd had enough. But then he'd have to walk all the way through that dark hallway again, and he wasn't even sure how far he'd come.

Besides, the teenager had to be an actor. That was the whole point of the place.

Kyle kept walking, though he checked over his shoulder more than once.

The man at the nurses' station was writing something on a clipboard.

He wore a white coat over a brown shirt, and his glasses sat low on his nose. A paper cup of coffee stood beside his elbow.

Kyle slowed down, waiting for him to look up.

"Evening," the man said.

"Hey."

"How's the tour going?"

"Pretty good."

"Good, good."

The man finished writing, then set down his pen.

"Anything give you a scare yet?"

Kyle thought about the morgue, the woman under the bed, and the teenager who'd somehow disappeared.

"A couple things."

"That's what we're here for."

Kyle smiled a little, although he kept thinking about the empty patient room.

"So what's next?" he asked.

The man nodded toward the corridor behind him.

"One more room."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

Kyle glanced toward the dark hallway. "Is it worse than the others?"

"Some people think so."

"What's in there?"

The man smiled. "Wouldn't be much fun if I told you."

Kyle supposed he had a point.

A knocking sound came from somewhere down the hallway. It was followed by two more knocks, louder than the first.

Kyle turned toward it.

"What's that?"

"Probably one of the patients."

Kyle laughed, but the man didn't.

"What's your name, son?"

"Kyle."

"Well, Kyle, you can still head back if you want. Nobody's going to stop you."

Kyle looked toward the hallway he'd just come through. He'd already made it farther than he'd expected, and he had pictures to prove it. Still, the teenager's warning bothered him.

"That guy back there," Kyle said. "In one of the rooms. How'd he disappear like that?"

The man raised his eyebrows.

"Disappear?"

"Yeah. I turned around for, like, two seconds, and he was gone."

"Which room?"

"I don't know. One of the patient rooms."

The man picked up his coffee and took a drink.

"We've got some good actors."

Kyle waited for him to say more, but he only set the cup down and glanced toward the hallway.

"Ready?"

Kyle thought about asking another question. Instead, he nodded.

"Yeah."

The man reached for a small brass bell beside his coffee.

"All right, then."

He rang it once and pointed down the hallway.

"Third door on your right."

Kyle looked toward the dark corridor.

"What's in there?"

"You'll see."

Of course. Nobody in this place could give him a straight answer.

Kyle headed down the hall, shining his phone flashlight into the open rooms as he passed. The beam moved across empty beds, rusted equipment, and a wheelchair tipped on its side.

At the third door, he stopped.

The room was dark except for a light burning above a bathroom sink. Two hospital beds stood against opposite walls, with a curtain pulled halfway between them.

"Hello?"

Nobody answered.

Kyle stepped inside and shone his light toward the bathroom.

A woman stood just beyond the doorway.

She wore a faded blue dress, and her dark hair hung over her face. One of her feet was bare, the other wrapped in a dirty bandage.

Kyle smiled. He'd already seen a woman crawl out from under a bed. They were going to have to try harder than this.

"Hey."

She didn't answer.

He moved the flashlight toward her face.

The woman raised her head.

Kyle's smile disappeared.

There were no eyes, no nose, no mouth. Nothing but skin stretched across the front of her skull.

He stared, searching for the edge of a mask. The light caught every crease in her skin, but there wasn't a seam anywhere.

Then something moved beneath it.

A small lump pushed outward near her cheek and slid slowly toward her chin.

Kyle took a step back. The woman moved forward, her bare foot making a wet slapping sound against the floor.

"Okay, that's enough."

She kept coming.

"Seriously. Stop."

She reached the doorway.

Kyle turned and ran.

He sprinted past the empty rooms, nearly slipping as he rounded a corner. Behind him, the woman's footsteps grew faster, accompanied by a dragging sound that made his stomach twist.

He reached the nurses' station, but the doctor was gone. The clipboard still lay on the counter beside his coffee.

"Hello?"

Kyle looked behind the desk and down the adjoining hallway.

"HEY! I WANNA GET OUT!"

Nobody answered.

He heard the woman's footsteps approaching.

Kyle grabbed the edge of the counter.

"CHICKEN!"

His voice echoed through the empty ward. He waited for the doctor to appear or for someone to open a door and tell him the show was over.

Nothing happened.

"CHICKEN!" he screamed again. "I SAID CHICKEN!"

The woman came around the corner.

Kyle ran in the opposite direction, past a row of doors he'd somehow missed before. He tried the first one, but it wouldn't open. The next led into a hallway filled with broken furniture.

He slammed it shut and kept running.

"HELP ME!"

Ahead, a red EXIT sign glowed above a set of double doors.

Kyle nearly cried when he saw it.

He hit the doors with both hands, then grabbed the metal bar and threw his weight against it. The doors didn't budge.

"COME ON!"

The footsteps stopped behind him.

Kyle turned.

The woman stood halfway down the corridor. She tilted her head, and something pressed against the skin where her mouth should have been.

Kyle backed against the doors.

"CHICKEN! PLEASE!"

He was crying now, his face wet and his breathing coming in painful gasps. He wanted his mother. He wanted to go home.

The woman started walking again.

Kyle pounded on the doors until his hands hurt.

"PLEASE! SOMEBODY HELP ME!"

A voice spoke behind him.

"Kyle."

He spun around.

The doctor stood on the other side of the glass in one of the doors, looking at him through the narrow window.

Kyle rushed toward him.

"OPEN IT!"

The doctor didn't move.

"I SAID THE WORD!"

"I heard you."

"THEN LET ME OUT!"

The doctor looked past Kyle toward the approaching woman.

"I'm sorry, son."

Kyle stared at him.

"What?"

The doctor stepped away from the window.

"WAIT!"

Kyle hammered on the glass.

"COME BACK!"

The woman was only a few feet away now.

Kyle turned, pressing himself against the doors. There was nowhere left to run.

"CHICKEN!" he screamed, pounding on the glass. "CHICKEN! PLEASE!"

He heard her bare feet against the floor and turned just as she reached him.

Her hand spread across his face, her cold fingers pressing against his cheeks and forehead.

Kyle squeezed his eyes shut.

"CHICKEN!"

Her palm covered his mouth.