Good lord! Thank heaven you had the presence of mind to bring up his little brother! (Note to self: Don't ever
who has an axe!
When I was working in the community relations department of a psychiatric hospital in Austin 30 years ago, my boss and I toured the state hospital. The main structures were built in Victorian times, and the place was just perfectly Addams-family creepy. The old woman who took us on the tour enjoyed scaring people, apparently -- at one point, she took us into a pitch-dark room and flipped on the light, revealing that we were surrounded by floor-to-ceiling shelves loaded with human brains in formaldehyde. (I really almost passed out, but struggled not to give her the satisfaction.)
Anyway, later in the tour, she took us into the locked dorm for criminally insane patients, then told us to wait while she did something in the next building. As she left, she called to my boss to come with her, so I was left alone in this long corridor... and as soon as the doorlock buzzed behind them, the men started coming out of their rooms.
These were very scary guys, maybe eight or ten of them, shambling toward me in grey hospital pajamas and plastic sandals. I was a lot younger and cuter at that time, and as they approached, I heard one of them start chanting, "Pretty pretty pretty," which really
scared me. I took an involuntary step backward, then glanced behind and saw that I was only a few feet from the end of the corridor -- nowhere to go.
The biggest one, a scruffy giant who had to be almost seven feet tall, called out in a dull, thorazine-slurred voice, "Don't worry, we won't hurt you."
I was not reassured.
The men were only about fifteen feet away when the guide and my boss returned, and thank goodness, the doorbuzz seemed to send them moving automatically back toward their rooms. I was shaking like the proverbial leaf, and had nightmares about it for months.
Thinking back on it now, I can't believe that nasty old woman got by with such cruel games... but at the time, I was too shy to challenge her.