Pranksters

A possibility that dawned on me rather quickly, but is - for someone of "advanced" hospital- exploration knowledge - rather easy to refute. There are a number of reasons why practical jokers could not have been responsible for our ordeal. Technically, with a decent P.A system and wind machine - sure, I could come fairly close to becoming "The Flincher". But not close enough - and certainly not where practicality or indeed "point" is concerned. Later inspection of the incident site also revealed no indications whatsoever that anyone had been there, altered anything, or installed a hi-tec wiring and lighting system on the off-chance that some unweary traveler might wander into the vicinity. In short, the idea is ridiculous. Owen and myself, through Gratis Surprise Incorporated have been prone to playing the odd practical joke ourselves - some at considerable time-wasting expense - but never anything as impossibly stupendous as this.

I can comfortably rule out anyone I know. Aside from the aforesaid reasons of sheer effort that would have to go into such a scheme, for the prank to have been effective, the perpetrator would have had to have come forward by now in order to inform us how gutted we are. Besides - nobody I knew was aware that I was heading to the hospital that evening. As for someone we didn't know being responsible - well, ask Owen. He'll also tell you that we're the only two people in the world that play tricks on people we don't know. Normal people don't have that sort of inclination (or indeed time on their hands). Say, for instance, that they did - it still wouldn't have worked. There's literally no way that on such a quiet night, especially given the corridor acoustics, that we couldn't have been fully aware of the slightest presence of other people - especially as they'd have had to "set up" in the most frequently visited corridor in the hospital. Like I said - it was very rare for us to have not touched that area on this particular night. After all - a "trick" wouldn't have worked had we approached southwards down the great corridor like we (and every person who has ever been to the place) usually would, instead of from the side catacombs - a "professional" prankster could never bank on such a remote probability.

I can happily swear blind to this day that on that dark night back in April 1994 - other than whatever entity we may have encountered - Owen Pellow and I, Damon Torsten, were the only living people at the Canadian Red Cross Memorial Hospital site in Taplow.