when Horror Yearbook – The Final Patient arrived just before the storm hit the old asylum. No one expected an ambulance that night. Rain hammered the broken windows as two nurses rolled the stretcher into Ward C. The hall smelled like rot. The man on the stretcher had no name, only an ID number burned into a metal tag. He wasn’t moving. His skin looked grey, almost blue. No pulse was found. No breath steamed in the cold room. They pronounced him dead at 12:13 AM. The clock stopped ticking the second his name was recorded. No one knew who admitted him. The stretcher wheels left bloodless tracks. Still, the patient was stored in the morgue downstairs. The elevator creaked as it carried the body down. But the final patient was never truly dead. Something inside him refused to rest.
Nurses reported hearing footsteps after midnight. No patient was allowed to walk without clearance. Footsteps always stopped near the morgue door. A whispering voice called out from inside, soft and raspy. The lights in Ward C flickered when staff walked past the cold room. Some refused night shifts after that. One janitor quit after seeing someone sitting upright inside one of the body drawers. Security cameras glitched every time they focused on the morgue. Static replaced all recorded footage. Dr. Keller, the night doctor, saw handprints on the inside of the freezer door. He locked the room, but found it open the next day. No one had the key but him. He started hearing the number 447 repeated in his dreams. That was the patient’s ID tag.
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One nurse claimed she saw the patient blink. Others called her sleep-deprived. Still, she left work and never returned. Another staff member felt the freezer shaking. He said something inside was moving—slow but steady. The medical log showed someone added a note at 3:00 AM. The handwriting didn’t match any staff. It read, “I never left.” Below it, someone had scratched the number 447 into the desk. A security guard caught a glimpse of someone walking the hall with bare feet and hospital gown. He followed, but the figure vanished around a corner. Only a wet trail of footprints remained. An alarm triggered in the morgue later that night. When checked, one drawer was empty. The patient’s tag was found on the floor, snapped in half.
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Administration reviewed old asylum records. They didn’t find the final patient in any documents. One photograph from 1963 showed a man with the same face. Staff identified him as Edgar Rowe. Edgar attacked staff and other patients during his time in the facility. He vanished during a fire that destroyed part of the building decades ago. Investigators never found his body after the incident. Dr. Keller dug deeper into the archives and found disturbing patterns. Records showed that Rowe faked death more than once. He slowed his breathing and heartbeat to trick doctors and nurses. One nurse remembered the stories about a patient who “never died right.” The hospital sealed the old morgue after multiple strange events. Recent renovations removed the seals and opened the space again. Someone—or something—waited there for a very long time.
Today, the hospital wing remains open, but the morgue stays locked. No one enters after midnight. Patients sometimes whisper about “the man who walks in silence.” Staff ignore the rumors. One cleaner found scratches on the inside of the bathroom mirror. They read: “You forgot me.” A new doctor once used drawer 7 for storage. He reported hearing breathing sounds from within. The hospital denied all reports officially. But staff turnover continues to rise. No one talks about the freezer drawer anymore. But everyone knows to avoid the basement. Room lights dim when someone mentions number 447. His file was deleted, but the memory lingers. The final patient may never rest—because he was never truly dead.
