Stitch it together with body parts dug up out of the ground.
Bring it to life with electricity and light.
Do a spell on a full moon with thirteen black candles and the blood of a wolf.
Mutter the words of an ancient curse.
Blend a terrible potion.
Use radiation.
A bite.
A sting.
A kiss.
There are as many ways to make one as there are monsters.
But you must ask yourself: Who is the real monster? The creature being made, or the one creating it?
Vi
June 12, 1978
AS VI WALKED up the front steps to the Inn, she thought of the old photographs Gran had shown her from back when it was a Civil War hospital, and then later, when it was a sanatorium for people with tuberculosis. Vi had studied the images: nurses in uniform tending to patients in wheelchairs on the lawn or in metal-framed beds tented over with crisp white sheets. She wondered how many people had died in that old hospital: soldiers missing limbs, people coughing up blood.
And how many of those who’d died were trapped there still, roaming the halls, stuck forever in the place where they took their last breath?
She’d asked Gran once if anyone had ever seen a ghost there. Gran had looked at her with an amused smile. “It’s a psychiatric hospital, Violet. People see all kinds of unusual things. But if you’re asking me if I think it’s haunted, then, no. I don’t believe places can be haunted. Only people, and not in a supernatural way. People are only haunted by their pasts.”
Vi walked through the main doors of the Inn and into the reception area, her eye on the door to the basement. Was there something down there? A secret part of the hospital—B West?
The window to the office slid open, and Miss Ev scowled at Vi. “Dr. Hildreth is in a staff meeting,” she said. “She’s not to be disturbed.”
Vi smiled her biggest, sweetest smile and stepped forward. “Actually, Miss Ev, I’m not here to see Gran. I came to see you.”
Now the woman’s whole face pinched together, her mouth puckering as if she’d eaten something sour. “Me?”
Vi nodded. “See, I’ve got this idea. A proposal, really.”
“Proposal?”
She’d already gotten Gran on board. Now she just needed to hook Miss Ev.
Vi nodded again. “I ran it by Gran last night, and she told me I should come talk to you. We both agreed you were the best person here to handle this… idea. In fact, you’re the only one, really.” She smiled again, innocently. “I wrote everything out. I’ve even got sketches. May I come into the office to show you?”
“If you must,” Miss Ev said. She got up, pushing herself out of the chair and huffing her way over to the door to unlock it, her feet clomp, clomp, clomping. Vi stepped in.
Vi had never been inside Miss Ev’s realm. It wasn’t a large office, and a great deal of it was taken up by an L-shaped desk. One side had the window with the sliding glass so she could keep an eye on the Common Room and greet （more like stop and interrogate） any visitors. The desk held a phone with buttons for each separate line so she could patch calls through to staff all over the building, plus a big electric Smith Corona typewriter and a set of wire baskets for paperwork. And on the wall, cubbies served as mailboxes for the staff and patients. Under the mailboxes, keys hung on hooks, each one carefully labeled with a colored tag: STAFF OFFICE WING; DR. HILDRETH’S OFFICE; KITCHEN; DINING; DAY ROOM; BACK DOOR; FRONT DOOR; SECOND FLOOR MED CABINET; FILE ROOM.
Vi’s eyes caught the file room key, and her fingers twitched a little. There were no keys for the basement. Nothing that said B WEST. She flicked her eyes away before Miss Ev could catch her looking.