The Invoking 2

What the fuck?

Better than the radio. (LAUGHING)

Hey, lady, you need a ride?

Come on.

Hey, Jesus, girl.

You all right?

You're all wet.

Where you going?

Uh, yeah, okay, me too, me too.

You got a baby there? Is it a boy or a girl?

Nice, I guess you're not really the talkative type, huh?

- It's okay, let me put on some tunes, huh? - (TUNING RADIO)

- What's wrong with the radio? - (TURNS RADIO OFF)

Looks like... whoa, looks like there's an accident up ahead.

Wait here, I gotta see if everybody's okay.

- God, looks like... this looks bad. - (SQUELCHING)

Hey, hello?

Aw, man. Hey, hello?

Hey, you okay?

Miss? (UNDER HIS BREATH) Shit.

Hey, miss, you okay? Miss?

Oh, God.

What do we got?

Well, we got three dead.

Looks like car one side-swiped car two.

Car two hits the pole, sends this woman out the window, baby follows.

Baby? Jesus.

Yeah, and the weird thing is, car one guy actually seems to have gone off

- and then come back a little bit later. - Hope it wasn't to apologize.

So he finds her and then gets hit by a third car.

We got a lead on that?

- (KEYS JINGLING) - (SARAH SIGHS)

I can never remember which one it is.

You must be in charge of a lot of doors.

(LAUGHING) Yeah. Ah, here we go.

Finally. - (DOOR UNLOCKING AND OPENING)

Okay.

Sorry we had to use the back door.

The only one that hasn't been condemned.

That's okay. I'm just glad you could show me the place.

Well, follow me.

Watch your step there, please.

We'll just continue through here. Okay.

Okay, so this is it.

The crown-jewel of Wayville Hill.

Uh, built in 1827.

Just five years before the cholera epidemic of 1832.

- It's charming. - Yeah.

So, of course, the power is off.

So is the heat.

The city just can't afford to keep the boilers running.

But we can turn that all back on for you, if you choose to use this in your movie.

Yeah, no worries. I like it just the way it is.

Good. Okay, well, we should get going.

If you'll just come with me.

Each nurse would be in charge of one floor to herself.

She'd have one or two people below her to help out.

But that way, it kept things nice and consistent for everyone.

This place is huge.

Yeah, three wards, 500,000 square feet.

And enough equipment to treat hundreds of sick patients.

It doesn't look that old, for something built almost 200 years ago.

Well, the building has gradually been renovated over the years.

I mean up until the county closed it, 32 years ago. We're gonna go in here.

And what happened here?

Nothing you didn't show in your movies, Mr. Winchester.

Oh, so you're familiar with my work? - Yeah, a little bit.

Got guts. (CHUCKLES)

You know, this institution helped a lot of people.

I heard they weren't always that helpful here.

Yeah, well, it's like my dad used to always say,

"You can't make an omelet without cracking a few eggs."

Yeah, I guess.

Oh, yeah!

Welcome to the asylum.

I'm just gonna get some video footage here, okay?

Yeah. Yeah.

Okay, let's do this.

Hello to my future self, to the producers watching this with me.

Hello. Oh, hi, Mom. (CHUCKLES)

I'm standing in one of the freakiest places I've seen in a very long time.

Wayville Hill Sanitarium, West Virginia.

Well, fortunately not everything is so depressing down here. (LAUGHING)

Hey, it's grandma's upholstery.

So according to a friend of a friend of mine who lives in the county,

Wayville Hill Sanitarium became infamous for its atrocious experiments

conducted on the patients, between around 1925 to 1928.

The most popular case is the one of a Mary Weaver.

It's even said that Mary's ghost still roams these corridors searching for something.

Classic. Here she is.

Come on, it's this way.

So...

according to the medical archives,

Mary was in room 502...

which should be at the end of this corridor.

Ah, here it is.

Oh, this is great. (LAUGHING) Oh, wow!

Oh, my God.

Even the cheesiest horror flick wouldn't have something this obvious.

Oh, this is good stuff.

- Did you do this for me? Don't flatter yourself.

Here, give me a hand with this. Okay.

Well, that sucks.

Well, I don't know what you were hoping for.

I don't know, something sexier.

Can you introduce yourself to the camera?

Hi, I'm Sarah Davis.

I work for the county of Tucker, West Virginia.

Tell us where we are.

We are in room 502 of Wayville Hill Sanitarium.

Can you explain to the people watching this why I so very badly wanted to come here?

Because of the story of Mary Weaver.

And what is that?

Back in 1927, the body of nurse Mary Weaver

was found dead in this room,

laying in a pool of her own blood.

It's said that she committed suicide after a psychotic breakdown,

following the murder of her baby.

After she became pregnant, she was admitted to this hospital for anxiety.

The doctor in charge believed her unborn baby was the devil.

So immediately upon giving birth,

he slit the baby's throat as she watched helplessly.

He didn't even bother to cut the umbilical cord first.

She completely lost it,

and was locked in this room, to rot and die.

It's said that she just rocked back and forth, begging for them to give her baby back.

One night, she managed to break the window,

and using a shard of glass, she disemboweled herself completely.

Cut.

Damn, you're good.

That was good.

What about the other rooms?

Yes, well, the infirmary is down the hall.

I'm in.

So, is it true that if you listen closely,

sometimes you can hear her hum songs to her dead kid?

Well, yeah, that's part of the folklore of this place.

But mainly it's just scary stories, told to frighten little kids.

Well, that's a shame.

Maybe if we're lucky, we'll get a chance to hear something.

Mary? Mary?

Oh, look at that.

That's a creepy shot.

(WHISPERING) Sarah.

Hey, I think I found it. - (GASPING) God!

(LAUGHING) What? Come on. Follow me.

Okay.

- (RATS SQUEAKING) - (DRIPPING)

Now this is more like it.

Do you think this is where the doctor killed that baby?

Maybe. If I remember correctly,

this is the only place in the sanitarium where a woman could give birth.

You know a lot about this place, huh?

Yeah, my father used to bring me here a lot, as a child.

You know, before they closed it down.

Really? He worked here?

Like his father and grandfather before him.

- I am the only one that didn't go... - (GLASS CRUNCHING)

...into medicine.

So, would your great grandfather have been here during the Mary events?

Yeah, I guess.

I've never really given it much thought.

That's my great grandfather.

It looks like he's the only doctor in all these photos.

Yeah, that's because he was the only doctor.

The county couldn't afford any more.

Shit.

So the doctor that killed Mary's baby would have been...

- My great grandfather. - (SCREAMING)

That was not a hum! What the fuck? That was not a fucking hum!

- We need to leave. We need to leave, now! - (SLAMMING)

What the fuck was that?

Who's there?

I said who's there!

Oh, shit.

(WHISPERING) My baby.

You gotta be fucking kidding me.

Fuck, come on. Why won't this open?

(WHISPERING) Sarah.

- (GROWLING) - (GASPS)

No, what do you want from me?

Leave me alone.

Give me back my baby.