The Cards Never Lie
Florence Frightengale and Dr. Elijah Blackwood unravel the chilling history of a haunted tarot deck that has plagued Hollow Hill hospital for over a century. Through first-hand accounts and haunting lore, they explore how the artifact has claimed lives and shaped the hospital’s dark legacy.
Chapter 1
Opening Warning
Florence Frightengale
Welcome back, dear listeners.
Florence Frightengale
I am Florence Frightengale—former nurse, and current... lorekeeper of Hollow Hill.
Florence Frightengale
The account you’re about to hear has been meticulously reconstructed from archival reports, whispered testimonies, and yes... recent sightings. Things some would rather leave forgotten.
Florence Frightengale
But forgotten things have a way of listening, don't they?
Florence Frightengale
This is Case File 043—
Florence Frightengale
The Cards Never Lie.
Florence Frightengale
Proceed with caution.
Chapter 2
Discovery
Florence Frightengale
It began, as so many unsettling things do in Hollow Hill, with a sound no one could explain.
Unknown Speaker
A winter morning in a locked nursery, no less. And a figure who should’ve never been there.
Florence Frightengale
Yes, this particular figure was a woman named Nurse Calloway. Retired, technically, but Hollow Hill...
Florence Frightengale
...it doesn’t easily relinquish its hold on people.
Unknown Speaker
Mmm, especially those who intrigue its peculiar nature.
Florence Frightengale
She was a quiet presence, moving about the hospital's forgotten corners. Organizing linens, feeding the ward cats... keeping to the shadows. She was, in essence, invisible.
Unknown Speaker
Invisible, yet irreplaceable. A remnant of something untouched—
Unknown Speaker
—until the veil thinned, as you like to remind me.
Florence Frightengale
Indeed. A ghost, but not quite. She kept her kindness intact, even as the hospital itself grew... restless.
Unknown Speaker
And on this particular winter morning?
Florence Frightengale
She found herself alone in the abandoned nursery, kneeling near the old hearthstone...
Florence Frightengale
...when she heard crying. An infant’s cry.
Unknown Speaker
Crying? From a room locked tight for decades?
Florence Frightengale
Precisely. Not the sort of scream one might dismiss as noisy pipes or creaking floorboards. This was unmistakable. Fragile. Unnerving.
Unknown Speaker
And rather impossible. Such acoustics defied logical explanation. Was the room inspected later?
Florence Frightengale
Oh, it was. But what she found went beyond a mere investigation.
Unknown Speaker
Go on.
Florence Frightengale
Reaching toward the sound, her hand brushed against the crumbling bricks of the hearth. They gave way, disintegrating beneath her touch...
Florence Frightengale
And there, hidden behind the wall... was a child’s burial gown, folded neatly around something.
Unknown Speaker
Something?
Florence Frightengale
Twenty-two cards. Warm beneath her fingers.
Unknown Speaker
Stained, no doubt.
Florence Frightengale
And pulsing.
Unknown Speaker
A living anomaly sealed in stone. Fascinating... and utterly sinister. Did she keep them?
Florence Frightengale
She didn’t scream, Elijah.
Florence Frightengale
She didn’t speak at all.
Chapter 3
The First Card
Florence Frightengale
Calloway didn’t scream, Elijah. Her fingers lingered on the cards, warm and pulsing as if alive, daring her to question—what spirit could anchor itself so profoundly?
Unknown Speaker
No shock? No terror? Surely the discovery would have unsettled her.
Florence Frightengale
You’d think. But no. She simply... sat. And then she drew.
Unknown Speaker
Drew? As in—
Florence Frightengale
One card. One solitary card.
Unknown Speaker
And what did it reveal?
Florence Frightengale
Ah, no one knows. She claimed she couldn’t remember. But... she said it saw her.
Unknown Speaker
Saw her? A deck of cards. Seeing someone. It's—
Florence Frightengale
Not rational? You’ve said as much before.
Unknown Speaker
It defies logic. Things don’t... look back. The mind must’ve played tricks on her.
Florence Frightengale
But the changes in her after that morning were undeniable.
Unknown Speaker
Changes?
Florence Frightengale
She stopped speaking altogether. Forever.
Unknown Speaker
Muteness, induced by trauma perhaps?
Florence Frightengale
Oh, it wasn’t mere trauma. It was a pact.
Unknown Speaker
A pact? Explain.
Florence Frightengale
Her silence wasn’t empty. It was power. Her presence changed too—sharp, unnerving, like the air before a lightning strike.
Unknown Speaker
And this... shift, it manifested how?
Florence Frightengale
She began leaving cards beneath the pillows of dying patients. Just one. Always face-down.
Unknown Speaker
For what purpose?
Florence Frightengale
No one knows. But by morning, the cards—and the patients—were gone.
Unknown Speaker
Gone? Without explanation? Or witnesses?
Florence Frightengale
Exactly. It’s as though the cards and death worked in unison. A dance no one dared interrupt.
Unknown Speaker
Fascinating. But it only raises more questions.
Florence Frightengale
Questions we may never answer.
Chapter 4
Dr. Whitcombe’s Fall
Unknown Speaker
If I recall correctly, Dr. Whitcombe was the first to openly explore the cards' enigmatic allure, wasn’t he?
Florence Frightengale
Yes. A man of science, logic, and... unbearable grief.
Unknown Speaker
Grief? What happened to him?
Florence Frightengale
His wife had just given birth to a stillborn. A quiet sorrow settled over him, as if he’d been swallowed whole.
Unknown Speaker
And yet, he sought counsel from a deck of cards. Hardly the rational approach of a man of medicine, wouldn’t you say?
Florence Frightengale
Grief rarely heeds the bounds of reason, Elijah.
Unknown Speaker
Fair point. So, what did he ask?
Florence Frightengale
He asked if he'd ever find joy again.
Unknown Speaker
And the card?
Florence Frightengale
The Empress. Reversed.
Unknown Speaker
A symbol of... corruption, isn’t it?
Florence Frightengale
Corruption, sterility... a promise broken, turned sour.
Unknown Speaker
And what followed?
Florence Frightengale
Two weeks later, he was found in the linens room. Cradling a bundle of soaking cloth, rocking it gently, whispering sweet nothings.
Unknown Speaker
Wait—are you implying he thought it was...?
Florence Frightengale
"There, there, love," he said. "You’ll wake your mother."
Unknown Speaker
Good heavens...
Florence Frightengale
No one dared intervene. Except... one brave nurse.
Unknown Speaker
And what became of her?
Florence Frightengale
She was found later. Twisted in the laundry chute. Cold. Blue.
Unknown Speaker
And the card?
Florence Frightengale
Still reversed. Tucked in her uniform pocket.
Unknown Speaker
So the cards punish those who resist?
Florence Frightengale
Not punish. They fulfill. Whether you desire it or not.
Chapter 5
Readings Turn to Rot
Unknown Speaker
And then, as if emboldened by its dark promises, the deck began to whisper to others, didn’t it?
Florence Frightengale
It did. A faint hum at first, like the murmur of restless dreams.
Unknown Speaker
Dreams—or something far less benign. And those who dared to draw from it?
Florence Frightengale
One nurse drew The Hanged Man. She stopped speaking entirely, staring at the ceiling as though waiting for the heavens to part... until the day her pulse faded.
Unknown Speaker
Compelling. She became ensnared by this figurative suspension, then succumbed. Was that the intention of the card itself?
Florence Frightengale
One can only speculate. And then there was the nurse who drew Death.
Unknown Speaker
Ah yes, transformation, not literal demise—although in Hollow Hill, that distinction blurs.
Florence Frightengale
Indeed. She laughed when she drew it, saying, "It means transformation." The next morning, Elijah... she arrived without fingerprints.
Unknown Speaker
Without fingerprints? You're suggesting...?
Florence Frightengale
She had shed herself. Completely. Cleanly. Hollow Hill doesn’t interpret transformation lightly.
Unknown Speaker
Absurd... and yet, absurdity seems to be the hallmark of these occurrences. Tell me, did the staff stop engaging with the deck after these incidents?
Florence Frightengale
Oh, quite the opposite. They begged for readings, craving answers, desperate to glimpse what the cards might unveil.
Unknown Speaker
Naivety. Did they not grasp the inherent peril?
Florence Frightengale
They misunderstood entirely. They thought the cards revealed the future. They couldn’t grasp the truth.
Unknown Speaker
And what truth is that?
Florence Frightengale
The cards don’t read your fate...
Florence Frightengale
They summon it.
Unknown Speaker
That is... a chilling distinction.
Florence Frightengale
Yes, and one they learned far too late.
Chapter 6
Maribel’s End
Unknown Speaker
And yet, Florence, even amidst such revelations, we must turn to another case. This brings us to Maribel Dunn, does it not?
Florence Frightengale
Indeed. The wandering nurse with no papers and far too much knowledge for comfort.
Unknown Speaker
A peculiar figure. What’s known of her origins?
Florence Frightengale
Very little. She appeared during a typhoid outbreak in 1907, offering her services without credentials. Yet her skill and demeanor were enough to silence questions—at least at first.
Unknown Speaker
And she claimed to... guide souls?
Florence Frightengale
Through the veil, yes. She said the line between life and death was thin, and she could thread it like a needle.
Unknown Speaker
A bold assertion. Did anyone take her seriously?
Florence Frightengale
Not in the beginning. But Maribel had a way of knowing things—or causing them. When a child’s fever broke after she whispered in their ear, or when a dying man’s heartbeat steadied as she placed her hand over his chest... well, skepticism began to waver.
Unknown Speaker
Superstition has a way of taking root in desperate places.
Florence Frightengale
And few places were more desperate than Hollow Hill.
Unknown Speaker
Curious. When did the suspicions begin?
Florence Frightengale
Oh, they always lingered. But nothing surfaced until Sister Gallara drew The Tower, the card of collapse and harrowing revelations.
Unknown Speaker
A card infamous for chaos and upheaval.
Florence Frightengale
Exactly. The Sister screamed. Accused Maribel of cursing the very bones of Hollow Hill. And she wasn’t alone in her fury.
Unknown Speaker
Let me guess—they sought retribution?
Florence Frightengale
Retribution, punishment... justice, as they called it. They dragged Maribel to the incinerator room, where the fires burned hottest.
Unknown Speaker
And they burned her alive?
Florence Frightengale
They did. Her screams filled the west wing. And by that night... so did the flames.
Unknown Speaker
The fires consumed the hospital?
Florence Frightengale
The west wing, yes. It became ash and smoke, as though the veil itself broke apart in vengeance.
Unknown Speaker
And yet the deck survived?
Florence Frightengale
Untouched. Not a single scorch mark upon it. Found later beneath the ashes, perfectly preserved.
Unknown Speaker
Impossible.
Florence Frightengale
And yet... entirely in keeping with Hollow Hill’s grim truths.
Unknown Speaker
Maribel's end was no ordinary death. The cards somehow clung to her memory, didn’t they?
Florence Frightengale
They did. And they’ve never stopped whispering since.
Chapter 7
Failed Containment
Unknown Speaker
They tried to contain it, of course. The rational response to such a phenomenon. But Hollow Hill, as we’ve come to understand, does not bow to ordinary logic.
Florence Frightengale
Oh, they tried everything, Elijah. Fire, burial, locks, glass... nothing worked.
Unknown Speaker
Define 'nothing,' if you would. Surely, some methods showed promise?
Florence Frightengale
They burned the cards to ash. The deck reassembled itself by morning. Buried it beneath consecrated ground, only for it to unearth itself weeks later.
Unknown Speaker
Un... unearthed itself? Surely some outside force was responsible—
Florence Frightengale
No force stronger than its own will, Elijah. Even locked behind glass in the most secure vaults, it rebelled. By dawn, every attempt to uphold containment had failed.
Unknown Speaker
And what of those tasked with containment? Surely, their resolve faltered as well.
Florence Frightengale
Dr. Harrow Glass was no stranger to impossible cases. He ventured where others feared to tread, using monitors and probes to study the deck’s... influence.
Unknown Speaker
Monitors? Bold. And the results?
Florence Frightengale
Tragedy. Five subjects driven mad. Two nurses... unwilling to ever speak again. And one patient—
Unknown Speaker
—What became of them?
Florence Frightengale
He bit off his tongue after drawing The High Priestess.
Unknown Speaker
Good heavens.
Florence Frightengale
The janitor refused to re-enter the vault after what he claimed he saw one night.
Unknown Speaker
And what did he see?
Florence Frightengale
The Devil... wink.
Unknown Speaker
Surely not.
Florence Frightengale
He quit the next morning. Shaking. Hollow-eyed. He hasn't spoken to anyone since.
Unknown Speaker
It seems nothing and no one escapes unscathed.
Chapter 8
Nurse Calloway’s Return
Unknown Speaker
Speaking of those who bear its shadow, Nurse Calloway… she still lingers in Hollow Hill, doesn’t she?
Florence Frightengale
Oh, she does, Elijah. Her white shoes never make a sound, no matter how long the corridors stretch or how empty the wards fall.
Unknown Speaker
A silent specter, roaming the halls as if still tethered to her duties. Remarkable.
Florence Frightengale
Her lips never move either, except to mouth names.
Unknown Speaker
Names? Of colleagues? Patients, perhaps?
Florence Frightengale
No... of those who haven’t died yet.
Unknown Speaker
Are you suggesting she predicts their—
Florence Frightengale
She doesn’t predict. She knows. And when she appears by their bed, humming that unfamiliar lullaby...
Unknown Speaker
...It’s like she’s marking them, isn’t it?
Florence Frightengale
Marking, preparing, guiding... perhaps all three. Those who wake to find her humming rarely escape.
Unknown Speaker
And if someone defies her—or tries to intervene?
Florence Frightengale
No one dares anymore. Not since the nurse who tried...
Unknown Speaker
What happened?
Florence Frightengale
She was found... twisted beneath a gurney, cold as the air in Room 17.
Unknown Speaker
Room 17 again... That accursed room.
Florence Frightengale
It seems even Calloway fears no place, Elijah. And she doesn’t stop humming. Ever.
Chapter 9
Why It Remains
Unknown Speaker
So, Florence, it raises a striking point—why is the deck still here? After everything it has caused, surely someone must have acted to remove it from Hollow Hill entirely.
Florence Frightengale
Oh, Elijah, they've tried. More times than anyone cares to count. Burned it to a crisp. Buried it in consecrated ground. Locked it behind reinforced steel and glass.
Unknown Speaker
And yet...?
Florence Frightengale
And yet the deck always returns. Ashes reform, roots unearth, locks—
Florence Frightengale
...fail.
Unknown Speaker
So, it’s not just haunting Hollow Hill; it is Hollow Hill, in the truest sense?
Florence Frightengale
Precisely. It has seeped into the very bones of this place. The bloodstained tiles, the bassinet carvings, the laughter wafting from the ventilation shafts—it’s all connected, Elijah.
Unknown Speaker
And you believe the deck feeds off this connection?
Florence Frightengale
Not feeds, Elijah. Hungers.
Unknown Speaker
Hungers? That’s quite the metaphor. Or... not a metaphor at all, perhaps?
Florence Frightengale
It’s no metaphor. The deck doesn’t observe from the shadows; it decides. You don’t draw it to glimpse your fate, Elijah.
Florence Frightengale
The deck draws you.
Unknown Speaker
A deeply unsettling idea. But why keep it? Why not—
Florence Frightengale
Why not try again? Why not destroy it... or leave it to rot? Because that’s never an option. It remains because it is destined to remain.
Unknown Speaker
Destined by whom, or what?
Florence Frightengale
By the town, Elijah. By Hollow Hill itself. It’s as much a part of this place as its foundations, its shadows, its whispers. It decides who stays, who falls, who disappears into silence.
Unknown Speaker
And the deck's endurance—hollow resilience—it’s as if it ensures its own survival. A manipulative predator masquerading as an oracle.
Florence Frightengale
Yes. And it doesn’t merely read your fate, Elijah. It threads it together, one card at a time.
Unknown Speaker
Like a cruel weaver, dictating patterns no soul can escape.
Florence Frightengale
Precisely. And once the thread’s been pulled...
Florence Frightengale
...there’s no going back.
Chapter 10
Final Warning
Florence Frightengale
And so, Elijah, the deck remains—its hunger unyielding, its purpose immutable. Perhaps one day, its secrets will unravel, but for now, dear listeners, we close the pages on Case Report 043—The Cards Never Lie.
Unknown Speaker
Case Report 043—The Cards Never Lie. A story as enigmatic as the deck itself, wouldn’t you say?
Florence Frightengale
Indeed. The deck’s persistence is as ceaseless as the cries that haunt these halls.
Unknown Speaker
One can’t help but speculate—if such a thing chooses its keepers, do we remain untouchable? Or are we merely waiting for our card to be drawn?
Florence Frightengale
A question better left unanswered, for those who seek such knowledge often find it to be their undoing.
Unknown Speaker
A poetic warning, as always.
Florence Frightengale
Not a warning. A reminder. Because at Hollow Hill, nothing forgotten is ever truly gone.
Florence Frightengale
To those listening, mind the darkness...
Florence Frightengale
And remember: the deck doesn’t just reveal your fate. It decides it.
Unknown Speaker
An unsettling thought to carry into the quiet hours.
Florence Frightengale
This has been Case Report 043—The Cards Never Lie.
Florence Frightengale
And if ever you hear a shuffle in the dark...
Florence Frightengale
...or feel the soft brush of a card beneath your pillow...
Florence Frightengale
Do not turn it over.
Florence Frightengale
Because at Hollow Hill...
Florence Frightengale
You don’t choose the deck.
Florence Frightengale
The deck chooses you.