Chapter 18 - The Keeper of the Bell
The hidden staircase twisted upward through ancient stone walls untouched by decades of renovations.
Richard climbed without slowing.
His paws seemed to know every step.
Dust drifted from the ceiling.
Cobwebs stretched across rusted railings.
Yet someone had been using the staircase recently.
Fresh footprints covered the stone.
At the top stood an old wooden door.
Richard pushed it with his shoulder.
It opened.
Cold night air rushed inside.
The dog emerged into a forgotten section of the hospital roof.
Half-hidden behind modern ventilation equipment stood an old brick tower.
The bell tower.
It still existed.
Its windows had been covered from the outside by metal panels so nobody below could see it.
Inside, a single elderly man sat beside the enormous bronze bell.
He wore a faded maintenance uniform older than most of the hospital itself.
When Richard entered, the man smiled.
"I knew you'd come."
Richard approached slowly.
The old caretaker reached into his pocket.
He removed a faded biscuit wrapped in wax paper.
The dog sniffed it once before eating.
"You still trust us."
The caretaker looked toward the staircase.
"They'll be here soon."
Richard barked once.
"I know."
The old man stood.
His back was bent with age, yet his movements remained steady.
On the wall hung hundreds of keys.
Each carried handwritten labels.
Archives.
Tunnel.
North Wing.
Vault.
Bell.
The caretaker selected one large iron key.
"My father guarded this tower."
He handed the key to Richard.
The retriever gently took it between his teeth.
"My grandfather guarded it before him."
The old man walked toward a narrow window overlooking the city.
"So many years..."
He smiled sadly.
"...waiting for one birthday."
Richard tilted his head.
The caretaker looked into the distance.
"Tell Harold..."
His voice cracked.
"...that Thomas never forgot."
Below, sirens suddenly echoed through the hospital grounds.
Several black vehicles had entered through the rear gate.
The caretaker frowned.
"They're early."
Richard barked twice.
Then raced back toward the staircase carrying the iron key.
The old caretaker reached for the bell rope.
He whispered quietly to himself.
"One last time."
And pulled.
The enormous bell rang across the city.
Not once.
Not twice.
May you like
But seven times.
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