Description
They say hospitals are places of healing. But what happens... when the dead refuse to leave? This story isn’t mine. It belongs to the people who worked night shifts... at Saint. Mary’s Hospital in West Virginia. A hospital that was shut down in 1998... but not because it was empty. It was because of what... they started seeing. And hearing. Linda was a registered nurse. 27 years old. She worked the night shift in the pediatric wing. One night, around 2:30 AM, she went to check on a child in Room 203. She never came back. Tom, a janitor, worked the lower basement floors. He said the hospital's old service elevator would sometimes open... by itself. Even though it had been deactivated years earlier. One night, he heard screaming like someone being tortured—coming from inside the elevator shaft. He opened the door. Nothing. But the screaming didn’t stop. It echoed from below. He tossed a flashlight down the shaft... and caught a glimpse of something. Every hospital has a morgue. Saint. Mary’s morgue was underground. Cold. Quiet. Until it wasn’t. Dr. Ramirez, a young intern, had to do night autopsies. She said every time she entered the morgue... the bodies whispered. Not out loud— but inside her head. One night, she heard a voice say, “We’re still here.” She looked around. Nothing. Then the fridge door creaked open... by itself. She slammed it shut. Later, security footage showed— the fridge never opened. But she was seen talking to someone. Someone standing in front of her. Dressed like a nun. But the hospital never had nuns. My favorite tale is from Ben, a trauma nurse. He told me this personally. There was a man brought in after a car crash. No ID. Unconscious. But stable. They put him in Room 312. Two nurses checked on him. He smiled. Didn’t speak. Just stared at the wall. Next morning... no record of him. No paperwork. No vitals. Room 312 was empty. Ben swore he talked to him. Described the man perfectly. Tall, pale skin, stitched neck like he’d had surgery. They checked the archives. Same description matched a patient from 1965. Died in a car accident. In the same room. Saint. Mary’s was shut down in 1998. Too many strange reports. Too many missing people. They said it was structural damage. But those who worked there... They know. The hospital was alive. And the dead still had things to say. Next time you walk through a hospital at night... and hear someone calling your name... make sure it’s a living voice. Because some patients... never check out.