Lighthouse Horror Podcast - I work at a HAUNTED Hospital. NEVER go to the 4th Floor | Scary Stories

Episode Date: February 24, 2024

The 4th floor is abandoned for a REASON...       Story from Blair Daniels Make sure to check out more of their work at u/BlairDaniels   Cover Art from Nadine Oestreich                Original Post: I hacked someone’s Ring camera. I saw something horrifying. : r/nosleep  Original YouTube link: I work at a HAUNTED Hospital. NEVER go to the 4th Floor For more stories like this one, check out my YouTube channel: Lighthouse Horror | YouTube  Patreon: Lighthouse Horror | Patreon Merch: lighthousehorror.com  Music: Lucas King - YouTube Myuu - YouTube  Incompetech  Darren Curtis Music - YouTube Thank you for listening to this scary story! If you enjoyed this new creepypasta story, please check out some of my other horror stories. We'll be uploading new episodes every week, featuring ghost stories, haunted encounters, mysteries, true stories, creepypasta, and anything supernatural and paranormal. Don't miss out on the thrill and suspense that await you in each episode!

Hospitals aren't just for the living. Sometimes the dead need them too. Their places where birth and death are at their closest, where people can pass through one to the other and back in the blink of an eye. So I guess it makes sense that sometimes the dead can get confused on where they really stand, so to speak. Tonight, I start working as an ER doctor for Holbrook Memorial Hospital. The night shift wasn't my first choice. but we needed the extra money.

My wife is on bed rest with a high-risk pregnancy right now, carrying our little boy doing three weeks. But now, I wish I'd never taken the job, because there is something horribly wrong with the patients here. On my first night on the job, it was storming hard, rain pelted down on the windshield, blurring the view of the hospital in front of me. But I saw enough.

It was a depressing, stark building made of concrete and dark glass. It almost looked more like a prison than a hospital. I parked as close to the doors as I could, and I made my way towards the entrance. But as I approached the emergency room, I noticed something strange. One floor of the hospital was completely dark. I couldn't tell if it was the third or the fourth floor from where I was standing. Maybe the storm cut the power, I thought. But why would it only be on one floor?

Well, whatever the cause, wasn't my problem. I worked on the first floor. Still, it was kind of an ominous sign. A row of completely dark windows, while all the other floors glowed bright against the rain. A vein of lightning shot across the sky, followed by the low rumble of thunder. I took a deep breath, and I stepped into the building. And from the moment I stepped in, something seemed off. For one, the emergency room was completely empty.

It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. I didn't hear any beeping machines or conversations or people walking around. It was only 7 o'clock, so it wasn't the dead of night or anything like that. I walked into the triage area. Hello? I called. Dr. Harris had given me a quick tour of the hospital during the orientation process. There were five triage rooms where patients were kept before being admitted or released.

I turned around, listening for footsteps, voices, anything. Hello? I called again. And then the curtain covering the room next to me blew outwards. And as it did, I saw a figure press into the fabric, the cloth stretching over an unseen face. Its mouth was wide open, as if screaming for help, hands reaching out desperately. I leapt back, my heart pounding, ready to call for help myself. And then the figure just disappeared, and the curtain was pulled.

pushed aside by a young nurse. You must be Dr. Ramirez, she said, giving me a smile. I nodded, still confused by what I'd seen. Where is everybody? I asked. Resting up for the night rush. The night rush? I replied.

Nobody ever comes in at this time, she began. But things get busy. After midnight." She gave me another smile and then just walked away. Now what she said struck me as weird. We were in a small town where most things closed at 9 or 10 p.m. Wasn't like Holbrook Memorial Hospital was suddenly going to be flooded with drunk party goers at 3 a.m. I wanted to ask more, but she was already halfway down the hallway.

I found the on-call room and decided to hang out there until I was needed. I stayed there, browsing on my phone for about an hour before a different nurse came in and told me I was needed. It was an easy case. A man accidentally cut himself while prepping dinner. I gave him a few stitches, then it was back to twiddling my thumbs in the on-call room. Around 10 o'clock I took my dinner break.

eating my sad, lumpy sandwich, I decided to look for a vending machine. I am a total sucker for junk food, despite what I tell my patients about eating healthy. I wandered away from triage and down the hallway in search of an ice-cold, coke, and a pack of vinegar chips. But strangely, the hospital was even more empty over here. The hallway was completely silent. my own footsteps echoed against the linoleum. Again, there were no machines, patients, or nurses bustling around. There was a nurse's station ahead of me, but as I approached, I found it completely

empty. All the computer screens were dark, and all the doors were closed in this wing of the hospital, with no light coming from underneath any of them. Well, nothing strange about that, probably, just meant the hospital wasn't filled the capacity. And I mean, that was a good thing, right? I turned around, ready to give up on my quest for junk food. And that's when I saw her. A young woman was stumbling down the hallway. She was in bad shape.

Her face was pale. What is a sheet? Her long hair was matted with sweat sticking to her face. She held both hands against her. her stomach as she let out a long cry of pain. Do you need help? I asked as I rushed over. She didn't turn to look at me.

It hurts. She groaned finally, tears coming down her face. It hurts so much. I grabbed her arm and turned her around, heading back towards the emergency room. Where did she come from? she come from? Hey, we need some help. I called out, but only my own voice echoed back. How'd she get all the way here? She wasn't wearing a hospital gown or an ID bracelet,

which meant she hadn't even been seen yet. The emergency room entrance was impossible to miss. What back door had she taken to end up all the way out here? But I didn't have much time to think. The woman's hand tore away from mine, and she crumpled to the floor, wailing in pain and clutching her abdomen. And I sprang into action. After searching a few of the empty rooms, I found an unused stretcher. I helped her onto it, and then pushed her down the hallway as fast as I could. In just a few minutes, we were back in the triage area. I got her settled into one of the beds and then asked her as much as I could. Her name was Haley Johnson.

She was 24 years old. She told me she was in extreme abdominal pain. So much pain, it felt like someone was stabbing her on her right side over and over. Two thoughts instantly occurred to me, appendicitis or ectopic pregnancy. And I immediately gave the order for an ultrasound. I also sent the orders for surgery to the rest of the staff. But as I was walking back to the room to check on her, someone called my name. I turned around to see Dr. Harris running towards me.

You are supposed to clear any surgical procedures with me first. He said. Sorry, I forgot. I said, starting to turn away from him, thinking that that was the end of it, you know. I'm canceling the surgery. He said behind me. What? You heard me.

I'm canceling it. I don't approve it. I stared at him. My hurt pounding. He was going to risk the life of that poor woman to prove some point? You can't do that. I began. She'll die.

You'll be sued for malpractice. I was almost shouting now. Some of the nurses turned to look in our direction. I swallowed, backing away slightly, but I held my ground. Dr. Harris leaned forward. He lowered his voice, and somehow his voice, his near whisper, was more terrifying than if he'd started screaming at me. You better not raise your voice to me ever. again. She doesn't need surgery. She doesn't have appendicitis or an ectopic pregnancy or anything else. If you don't believe me. Check the ultrasound. And then he turned and walked away.

The nurses quickly went back to their work, pretending they hadn't just been staring at us. I swallowed. I was so angry. but my anger had gotten me in trouble before. Focus on Haley, I told myself. She needs me right now. I hurried back to her room. The ultrasound tech was already in there, but when her eyes fell on me, she acted just as strangely as Dr. Harris.

You know, my time is valuable too. She snapped. You think you can just order people around to do whatever you want because you're a fancy hotshot doctor, huh? But this isn't funny. What the hell are you talking about? I replied. You know exactly what she is.

We all do. You're just wasting my time, she said. Huffing, she began wheeling the ultrasound cart out the door. What, what she is? I thought. Doesn't she mean what she has? Okay, if you won't do the ultrasound, then I will, I said, grabbing the other end of the cart. She just shrugged and gave it to me, then left the room. Now, I'd only done a few ultrasounds before back in med school.

After fiddling with the controls for a few minutes, I finally got it working. Haley was only semi-conscious now. She was tossing and turning in the small hospital bed the whole time groaning in pain. I spread the gel on her abdomen and then lowered the probe. The ultrasound screen filled with white and black shapes, shifting and turning as I moved the probe across her belly. I continued searching, looking for the right spot. But I was rusty at this.

I moved the probe further right and stopped dead. In the middle of the screen was a pointed white, obvious. object. It glowed brightly against the grainy, black and white shapes. What is that? I thought. I stared at it for a moment, scowling, the probe still on her belly. And then I sighed, pinched my nose, and glanced up. My eyes landed on the window, on her reflection, and all the air was suddenly sucked. down to my lungs. In her reflection, Haley's clothes were soaked in blood. The handle of a knife stuck out from her stomach, glinting in the fluorescent light. Her eyes were rolled up in her head,

pure white from the pain. Her mouth gaped open in a never-ending scream, and she was staring right at me. I leapt out of the seat. The ultrasound probe clattered to the floor. My heart pounded in my chest and I backed away, the room spinning around me, wind rushing in my ears. But when I looked back to the bed, Haley looked exactly as she did before. Semi-conscious, groaning, and no blood. no knife on her.

Okay, I need to get help, I thought. I ran out of the room calling for the nurses and other doctors. Anyone? But when I led them back into the room, rambling on like a crazy person, Haley was gone. No, that's impossible, I thought. She couldn't even walk. There's no way she could have gone anywhere. Did Dr. Harris take her somewhere, I wondered.

She was right there, I told him. Did someone take her away? What was her name? One of the nurses asked. Her name was Haley Johnson. As soon as I said her name, the entire energy in the room changed like a wall had been put up between me and them. Like they knew something I didn't. One of the nurse's eyes got really wide, and then she hurried away.

Dr. Stein shook her head and scoffed as she turned to leave. And then I was standing there, alone in an empty hospital room. And for a few minutes, I didn't know what to do. But then I realized if Haley had been moved somewhere, it should be in the system. I ran over to the computer on the desk and I typed in Haley Johnson. I clicked on her record and my blood turned to ice. Haley Johnson, age 24, admitted to the ER after her boyfriend stabbed her with a hunting knife four years ago.

No, no, that doesn't make any sense. Must be a different Haley Johnson, I thought. It was a common enough name. Or maybe I'd gotten the patient's name wrong. Maybe Bailey was spelled different. Maybe her last name was Johns or Jones or something else. I tried typing different combinations of names into the system. But either no records came up or they were a different age.

I tried until my eyes ached and everything was blurry. I held my head in my hands. I was so tired all of a sudden. I must have imagined what I'd seen in the window, what I'd seen on the ultrasound. Or maybe I'm dreaming right now. But then, as I stared blankly at the file, I noticed there was a little arrow in the bottom corner. When I clicked it, a second page came up.

All it contained was just one sentence. transferred to floor four. It didn't say what date she was transferred, if it happened four years ago or now. But it was worth it to check. Maybe I could still help her. I walked out of the room, my heart pounding, and I went back down the hallway to the elevator. The doors whooshed open, and I stepped inside. I pressed the button marked four, and the elevator lurched underneath me.

The doors began to open. And I realized something was horribly wrong. The hospital wing in front of me was pitch black. The only light came from the elevator, spilling out into the darkness. Hello? I called out. There was nothing but silence. This must have been the floor I'd seen from the outside, the one with a dark row of windows

without a single light. The file must have been a mistake. This place looked abandoned. Maybe I'll try the third floor, I thought, and I pressed the button to close the doors. I pressed the button again, but then with a sizzling click, the elevator light went out. Every muscle in my body froze. It was absolutely pitch black. There was no light from anywhere, not even from a glowing exit sign.

There were no sounds either. No creaks or murmurs from the HVAC system. Just nothing. Hands trembling now. I reached into my pocket and I pulled out my phone. Using it as a light, I found the emergency button in the elevator and pressed it. But again nothing happened. I took one step out of the elevator, lifting my phone up to illuminate my surroundings.

My light didn't travel very far, but I could make out a long hallway with doors on either side. If this floor was like the others, the stairway was on the opposite end of the hallway. I shuddered at the thought of walking down that dark, eerie hallway. way on my own. But I didn't have a choice. It was either wait here until someone came up to help or man up, walk down the hallway and use the stairwell. I started to walk. I tried to think happy thoughts as I walk through the darkness, my flashlight bouncing up and down ahead of me. But the atmosphere was just too strange. Hospitals usually had emergency generators. because so many life-saving machines depended on electricity.

Why would they just leave the power off here? Maybe he was being renovated or something, I thought. But when I looked around, I didn't see any evidence of that. No tarps, drills, or cans of paint around. In fact, this floor looked like it had actually been used recently. There was a stretcher parked outside room 12. A hospital gown was bunched up on the floor, stained with something dark. There was even a tray of metal tools standing in the hallway just out there in the open.

I could see scalpels and forceps glinting in the light. It was like all the people working on this floor just suddenly disappeared and left everything behind. As I continued through the darkness, however, I realized some of the doors ahead of me were open, and my blood turned to ice. I stopped in my tracks, just walk past them, I told myself. And finally, after much convincing, I took a step. The first door was only open a few inches, but there was a faint light inside, flashing, bluish light, like there was a TV on.

I thought there wasn't any power up here. As I passed it, I thought I heard the low murmur of canned laughter coming from its speakers. Okay, keep going, I said to myself. The second door was on my left. It was pitch black. I approached it slowly.

My legs felt like they were moving through Maloney. glasses. But as I approached, I heard something. A soft moan of pain. I wanted to just run the hell out of there. But a little voice warmed its way into my head. What if that's Haley? What if she needs my help? I stopped outside the doorway, and I shined my light in. The room was small, a cheap fold-out table, sat in one corner, an empty, filthy-looking bed lay in the middle, and a white curtain hung from the ceiling, dividing the room in two. Hello? I called out. The moan sounded again. It was coming from behind the curtain. I took another step into the room, holding my phone up high, and my leg shook underneath me. Haley, I asked. And then it happened. The

curtain rippled. Something pointed like a finger, slowly traced its way across the cloth, and then the curtain billowed and shook as something pressed itself against it. I could see the shape of a figure, of a mouth gaping open. So I wheeled around and I ran. I passed other rooms, flashing behind my vision. Radio static spilled from one piercing the silence. Frantic whispering came from another. The same several syllables over and over, in a strange language I didn't recognize. A bright light twinkled in another, halfway obscured by a shadow.

I kept running, my feet slipping underneath me. Almost there, I told myself, I could see the end of the hallway now. the door for the stairwell. But there was just one problem. Between me and the stairs, there was a door swinging open. It creaked loudly on its hinges. I burst into a sprint,

and I kept my eyes locked ahead of me, not turning to look into the open room. But I saw it anyway. There was someone standing inside the room, just a foot or two within the door, way. It looked like an old man wearing a faded, stained

hospital gown. He had long, wild, gray hair and sunken, pale skin. He didn't react as I walked in front of him. He just stood absolutely still. As soon as I passed him, though, I heard the distinct smack of bare feet

on linoleum. And I leapt for the door. His footsteps grew louder behind me, and then his hand grabbed mine. I screamed. I tried to yank my hand back, but his fingers gripped mine harder. He held me in a vice grip, squeezing so hard, my joints cracked as I tried to get away. He stared at me with ice-blue eyes, grinning with. crooked yellow teeth. I yanked and yanked, and finally my hand slipped free. I sprinted to the stairwell, flung the door open, and I ducked inside. I ran down the stairs, nearly falling. And when I finally opened the door to the first floor, relief flooded me. It was like surfacing

above water after nearly drowning. Those color and light, All kinds of sounds. Conversation, monitors beeping, footsteps. I stumbled to the nearest chair and collapsed in it. My heart still pounding. Where the hell have you been? A voice said. I looked up to Dr. Harris leaning over me. His features twisted into a scowl. Sorry. I went to look for Haley on the fourth floor. That's where he took her, didn't you? His eyes widened, dark anger flashed across his face. You disobeyed me, he said, you'll pay for that. And then he walked away. As I sat there in shock, I noticed that everyone was hurrying around.

There were nurses, doctors, and patients being wheeled around in stretchers. And I remembered what that nurse had told me at the beginning of my shift. It was the night rush. I got up and headed towards triage to see how I could help. As I did, I passed the waiting room. It was packed. It was completely empty just 15 minutes ago. But as I passed by the crowd of people, I saw horrible things in my peripheral vision.

An old woman leaning out of her chair with black pits for eyes. A woman raking her hands across the wall with her mouth open, as if she was screaming at the top of her lungs. A middle-aged man lay on the floor, his whole body shaking as he sobbed. I stopped dead in my tracks, and I turned towards the room. But when I did, everything just. just snapped back to normal. The little old lady patiently sat in her chair. She sniffled into some tissues as she waited for her turn.

The woman who'd been screaming was pacing the room calmly. The middle-aged man was on his phone. What the hell was happening? My entire body shook and I forced myself to keep walking. my legs feeling weak underneath me. I'm so tired, I realized. It's been so long since I've had to stay up all night. Maybe I'm dreaming, seeing things.

Nothing about this makes sense. I took a deep breath and tried to compose myself as best I could. I studied myself as I entered the first triage room. There was a woman there who'd been in a minor car accident. I admitted her for a concussion, and then I moved to the next room. There, an old man presented with symptoms of a heart attack. I had him admitted and transferred to a specialist. I kept going like this for a half hour or so.

I rushed from room to room trying to help the patients as best I could. And then my pager beeped. I was needed in room five. I rushed to the room, and my mouth fell open. It was my wife. She was lying on the bed, moaning in pain, and clutching her belly. Tears coming down her cheeks. I was fine, she said weakly, between contractions.

But then all of a sudden, the contraction started really bad, first nothing and then just this, God, it was intense, horrible pain. My mind reeled backwards. Dr. Harris's words echoed in my head. You'll pay for that, he had said. I shook my head. There was no way he could supernaturally put my wife into premature labor. That was ridiculous, right?

Did I fall asleep? Maybe I'd fallen asleep when I was in the on-call room. hours ago. Maybe everything since that point had been a dream. A nightmare. I pinched my arm, glanced a few times at the clock, but everything pointed at reality. This was all real. Dr. Ramirez. I was snapped out of my thoughts by the nurse. She needs an emergency C-section now, she said to me. Her blood pressures through the roof. Preeclampsia. If we don't act now... She didn't need to say the last words, I knew him by heart, ever since she was diagnosed by her doctor. I knew that if we didn't act

now, she'll die. We wheeled their deeper into the hospital. The OBGYN on staff entered the room, and the blue screen went up. We put on our masks and hair nets, and I sucked in a breath, waiting for the doctor to start. I held Catalina's hand tightly. It's going to be okay, I said to her, stroking her hand. I'm so scared, she replied. It all went by so fast. Within minutes, I heard the shrill cry of a newborn filling the room. And before I could fully register what happened, he was placed in my arms. I looked down at his perfect little face, screaming as he took his first breaths, and my heart soared. I held one of his tiny waving fists.

At the touch, his hand instantly opened, and his fingers wrapped around one of my own. Our baby boy. Mine and Catalinas. One of the nurses carefully took him from my arms. He brought him over to the weighing station, and I watched, tears burning at my eyes. I was so enamored with him. I almost didn't hear Dr. Harris come in, and then his voice was behind me, low and soft. Transfer her to floor four.

My heart stopped. Dr. Harris shoved past me. and grabbed the sides of the gurney. Before I could stop him, he wheeled her out of the room towards the elevator. Hey, hey, stop. Are you taking her? I said running after him. But as I did, I realized how pale Catalina looked.

More like ashen gray. Her eyes were open, but they weren't blinking. They weren't moving. She was just staring at the ceiling. I squeezed into the elevator just as it began to close. The elevator thrummed underneath us, taking us to the fourth floor. What the hell are you doing? I said.

Dr. Ramirez, he said calmly. A life must be given for a life. It's just the order of things. There is an old man in room four, in cardiac arrest. He will die, unless someone else dies in his place. You're going to let my wife die? I choked out so he can live. Well, the old man is veld.

immensely wealthy. He can pay more. This hospital isn't cheap to run, you know. He said, glancing at me with a grin. Besides, you actively disobeyed my orders. You can't do that. Oh, I've done it before. hundreds of times.

To people like Haley Johnson. He said, as he smiled cricketyly, The spirits, and they come back down here around midnight, live under the halls, vaid in the emergency room, looking for revenge, for clothes, foreclose, for something. We just send them back up to their resting place.

Just then, the elevator dinged and the doors rolled open. Here we are, Dr. Harris said. And the floor was no longer dark. Lights flickered overhead, lending a strange strobe-like effect in the abandoned hospital wing. I stepped out onto the floor. All the doors were open now, and in the rooms, someone sat on a hospital bed in each one, but they weren't injured or in pain. They were calm, sleeping, reading, or staring at the blue glow of an unseen TV. In one of the rooms closest to the elevator. I saw a woman inside that looked familiar. Haley Johnson, it's time, Dr. Harris said, as he

began to roll the gurney out of the elevator. And that's when I saw it. Ahead of us, someone was standing in the middle of the hallway, and my heart leapt into my throat. It was the man in the hospital gown, the man who grabbed my hand last time I was here. He slowly walked down the dark hallway, smiling, and in his hand was a long, curved blade that glimmered in the blinking lights. A scythe. His wild gray hair fell over his face, casting, casting long shadows over his sunken skin. His gaunt face resembled a skull in the dim light, and his eyes looked like black pits that went on forever. No, no, no, no, this can't be happening. I grabbed Dr. Harris by the shoulders, and I threw him to the ground. Before he could get up, I yanked the gurney back into the elevator. I

I jammed my thumb against the close door button, pressing so hard my knuckles cracked. And for a heart-stopping moment, nothing happened. And then with a shrill squeak, the doors began to close. Dr. Harris was scrambling up now. His face twisted in anger. I darted forward, putting myself between them and Catalina, praying the doors would shut. And then they did. The doors closed and the elevator began to descend. When the doors opened again, I rolled Catalina onto the first floor. Her eyes jittered

for a second, then focused on me. Where, where am I? She asked. It doesn't matter. I whispered back. All that matters is that you're safe. The next few months went buying a blur as we adjusted to life as new parents. Our son has been nothing but a complete joy. Well, okay. The nighttime wake-ups aren't my favorite, but every day I'm thankful that all three of us are here,

that my wife didn't die during childbirth, and that I was able to pull her back from the fourth floor. I quit my job at Holbrook Memorial Hospital, and we moved a few hundred miles away, out into the country. And things are happy. Things are wonderful. But every so often, when I wake up in the middle of the night, I see a bit of movement in the corner of my eye. I can just see something out the window, up on the hill behind our house.

It looks like an old man in a tattered hospital gown holding a scyve and grinning at me.