The Mysterious Clinic remains solitary at the edge of town, a structure that appears to have been neglected by time. Its walls, when white, are presently blurred to a dull dim, streaked with downpour and long periods of disregard. The sign over the entryway scarcely grips to its rusted metal casing, the letters practically incomprehensible, as though they, as well, have mysteries they wish to keep. A faint, glimmering light sparkles behind the pearly glass windows, projecting long, moving shadows that stretch like skeletal fingers against the walls.
Source
The people who have thought for even a moment to step inside discuss a disrupting quiet, thick like a weighty haze that appears to push down on the skin. The air conveys the slightest fragrance of clean, yet underneath it waits something unplaceable — something old, something practically bad. The lounge area is unfilled, save for a couple of broken seats and a front counter shrouded in layers of residue. Nobody has at any point seen a medical caretaker or a specialist here, yet the entryways driving further inside generally appear to be opened, welcoming the inquisitive more profound into the unexplored world.
The foyers are long and limited, fixed with entryways that never fully close appropriately. Some say they've heard murmurs from behind them — soft tones communicating in a language nobody comprehends. Others guarantee to have seen development in their fringe vision, just for the rooms to be vacant when they blow some people's minds. The lights above gleam erratically, as though the actual structure is breathing, breathing in and breathing out in beat with the feeling of dread toward the people who meander its corridors.
No records exist of when the facility was constructed or who claims it. But, on specific evenings, when the breeze yells through the vacant roads, some case they see figures standing just past the glass, pausing — however nobody thinks for even a moment to find out for what.
@daily.prompt
@freewritehouse