Haunted Souls on the Night Shift
Haunted Souls on the Night Shift
I needed something to switch up my routine. Working at an assisted living facility in Maryland was worthwhile and all, but I decided it was time for a change. So I told the scheduler that I wanted to be switched to the night shift.
The night supervisor drifted in and out of my remaining afternoon lunch breaks, telling me about weird happenings and sightings she'd seen over the years she'd worked her position. I didn't believe her, of course; I thought she was trying to scare the hell out of me to force me back to the day shift. Instead, I threw myself with extra determination into becoming nocturnal. I ate dinner at 2 a.m. as preparation for my new lunch break time, and shopped for groceries as soon as the stores opened at 6 a.m.
On my second night, however, I walked into work and instantly felt odd. The 200-room facility felt hollow somehow, yet there was activity making my spine crawl. I shrugged it off and went about my room checks. I had three halls, fifty rooms' worth, and my other three coworkers broke off to take their hallways.
I felt very alone as I walked down the first hall. Ahead of me, there was a mirror. My reflection seemed a bit distorted, and when I squinted at it, I saw one of my residents walking behind me into her room, draped in a white nightgown. Surprised that someone was out at this late hour, I turned to make sure everything was okay. The woman wasn't there; her door had opened and closed without a sound.
Frowning, I opened her door slightly and peered in. The woman was fast asleep in her bed, her breathing steady. Her back was covered in a bright pink pajama shirt.
That wasn't what I'd seen.
I continued to make my rounds, puzzling over the incident. Another one of my residents was a perennial sleepwalker, so I slipped into his room to check the railing on his bed. He was snoring softly.
A squeak came from the other side of the room. I looked over, expecting to see a pet cat or bird. Instead, the rocking chair was occupied. A silhouette of a man slowly rocked back and forth, without pausing or turning to acknowledge me.
I ran so fast down the hall I almost tripped. I burst into the manager's office and breathlessly told her what had happened. My flesh was crawling so badly, I refused to go back into my hallway.
Every night from then on, the ghosts bothered us. But only when there were just four of us working.
We heard dishes breaking, but upon checking the kitchen, no one was there. We heard wailing screams when we knew everyone was asleep. The alarm went off every night.
We came to the conclusion that the number four somehow angered the ghosts of the facility, so from then on the scheduler tried to have five of us patrolling the hallways.
Some nights, though, it's just not possible.
