Asylum

Asylum

Something is running around in the halls at night. Something’s going through the walls at night. Something’s gonna grab your…

…and how does this make you feel, Garth? Dr Redwood cut him off.

Garth said nothing.

Does it scare you?

No, it doesn’t scare me. It doesn’t scare me at all. His eyes flickered around the room.

Why doesn’t it scare you, Garth? The doctor asked. Don’t you think it’s dangerous? The words came out slow and calm.

It’s dangerous, yes. Very dangerous. Not to me, he added. It’s not dangerous to me. He looked up and peered straight into Dr Redwood’s eyes. Dr redwood didn’t like the glow in them. Slowly he put his finger on the button below his desk.

It’s not me it’s after. It’s not after me at all.

And who is it after, Garth? A long pause. No answer. Is it after someone else?

Garth started giggling. Hihihihihihi… Is it after someone else…. Hihihihihi… He leaned over Dr Redwood’s desk. Someone…. Else….

Dr Redwood pushed the button. Three men dressed in white came running in.

No! Noooo! Garth tried to get away, but they grabbed him. Pushed him to the floor, strapped his hands behind his back.

I don’t want to go! No!

Dr Redwood sat for a while, looking at his paper, making a few notes. Paranoid delusions still the same, or worse. Diagnosis stays the same. A bit further up it said Schizophrenic Paranoid Disorder.

Life went on as usual in the old hospital, but soon other patients started talking about the monster as well.

It’s like an epidemic, said nurse Tracy. They’re all seeing the same things. No wonder, being locked up here for so long.

Well, most of them can’t really be running around in freedom either. The scissor-incident last week…. Carlton got up form the chair. Don’t worry, they’ll probably forget all about the monster soon enough.

He picked up the key set and left the room for the night round. Down the hallway he could hear Garth talking in his room.

Everything OK, Garth? He looked into the little window in the door. Garth was staring at the wall.

Everything’s fine… It’s not me she’s after.

Well, you should get some sleep. You’re keeping everyone awake.

OK, said Garth… I’ll go to sleep now. It’ s not me she’s after….

Carlton closed the hatch. Crazy fuck, he whispered to himself as he walked away, knowing Garth couldn’t hear him.

The lights went out. Now what…? He turned around and headed back towards the nurses’ office.

He heard footsteps behind him, further down the hall.

He could see something. Something moved slowly over the floor. A tall figure.

Who’s there?

It stopped. Turned it’s head. Two beady, red glowing eyes. Carlton wanted to say something, but his mouth got stuck half way open. The creature was coming towards him.

Tracy had just turned on the flash light when Carlton came falling in, slamming the door shut behind him.

A monster! A horrible creature! A… A ghost or something! It came straight at me!

Oh, my… He’s been working here for too long.

Come, sit down. Relax. There’s no such thing as ghosts, you should know that. It was probably just Garth running around.

No… Garth was in his room…. Everyone were in their rooms…

So, so… I’ll see if I can fix the light, it’s probably a blown fuse. She turned around. Something was there. The light from the torch lit up a bloodstained dress, black hair in front of the face. Tracy didn’t move. The dark creature lifted her head. Red staring eyes. Cuts all over.

Doctorrr… Redwoooooddddd…

The flash light fell out of Tracy’s hand. The lights came back on. She fainted and fell to the ground.

Tracy opened her eyes. Dr Redwood was sitting by her side. Carlton was holding her hand.

There we go, said the doctor. Now tell me what happened.

The look in her eyes… So much pain. So much hate… So much hate! so much hate…

What did this… creature look like.?

She was tall… had a dress on. Stained… She had scars all over her face. Wounds. Around the mouth and eyes. And she had some kind of necklace… An amulet with some stone. Tracy started crying. Oh, doctor, it was…

The look on Dr Redwood’s face made her stop. He said nothing, just staring at her with his eyes open. Hands shaking, sweat was running from his forehead.

Are you OK? Suddenly she seemed better off than him.

Er… yes! Ehem… Yes, I’m fine. S-so what did she do?

She… I remember now… She asked for you!

Lights out. Darkness. Someone laughing.

Dr Redwooooooddddd…. I’ve been searching for you…

Who’s there?

Laughter.

Rebecca? Rebecca, is that you? His voice was shaking, trembling.

It was all part of the treatment… I… I never meant to…

Treeeeaaatmmment… of rape… and torture….. The voice sounded amused.

Things got out of hand! He started crying. I’m sorry, Rebecca! I’m sorry!

Sssssoooo am I…. ‘Cause you’re coming with meeeeee… to the deep insanity beyond… Hahahaha….. Hahahahahaha….

The laughter echoed through the halls. They could hear the patients join in, one by one.

…hahhahahahahahHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HA HA!!!

Silence. The lights came on. Carlton and Tracy looked at each other, then at Dr Redwood.

He was staring into the air with a crazy grin on his face. A twisted, sinister face of madness.

Then he started screaming.

http://www.cchr.org/cchr-reports/psychiatric-rape/introduction.html

https://www.quotev.com/story/5641712/Ghost-Stories/59

Prophetic Poetry

Liquid Ink

liquid ink

After her father died things had gotten worse. Her mother never let her out. Ever. She didn’t go to school. She didn’t have friends. Most of the time she was locked up in her room, like now. Her mother would unlock the door when she needed her.

Her only pleasure was to draw. To paint. The Ink. She wet the paper, as she always did. The contours of a tower took form in the glistening water. She dipped the brush in the ink bottle, took it down on the paper, moving it under the roof and down one wall where the darker areas would be. Then she let the ink flow.

She loved how it moved. It was like it had a life on it’s own, like if she was the spectator. It was magic. The tower came to life.

A girl appeared in the window. She hadn’t even planned for that. A face took form. It was her face. It was her.

Dark shadows floated around her. On the desk. In the air. It stained the walls. The ceiling.

She was sitting by a desk in a room of stone walls. There was nothing else in the room but an old chest. She was gone.

She heard someone crying. A weep of deep, bottomless sorrow, a cry of loss of loved ones and despair. The door was open.

There was a steep, winding stone staircase going down.

It was dark. She walked slowly, following the sound. She saw light coming out from under a door further down. She heard voices. Noises. Someone shouting. She knew that voice. Her mother. She couldn’t tell the words, but knew to whom ever she was shouting at, the words would be hurtful. She passed the door, down the dark staircase.

She kept following the stairs. Another door. This one was open. She saw her father, dead on the bed. Her mother standing besides him with a knife in her hand. Her back towards her. She turned. Looked right at her. She closed the door and ran.

On the bottom of the stairs there was darkness. She heard the crying clearly now. It was her father. She moved slowly, carefully. So much pain. So much sorrow.

Father? She said. Is that you?

Her eyes were adapting. Her father was sitting on the floor. Someone was lying beside him.

Why didn’t you leave, he said. Sadness. Despair.

A light came on. A small flame in an alcohol lamp. She saw herself lying there. She held a rose in her hands. Her throat was cut.

You have to go. Now! His back still towards her.

She didn’t answer. She couldn’t move.

He turned. His face was twisted. Tortured.

Run!!! He screamed. She turned. Her mother was there. Floating, like liquid. Changing form. Dark, grey and black forms of evil. Laughing. The forms filled the room.

She ran. She ran down a long hall. The walls were changing. Twisting. She could hear her mother’s evil laughter. Behind her, in front of her. Everywhere. A light. She ran towards it. Another door. It was closing. She threw herself at it.

She fell into the daylight. Turned around, fast, as to defend herself. She saw their house. She was back in the real world, in their yard. The shadows were gone.

Jane? Her mother’s voice from inside the house, upstairs.. She was angry. Jane, where are? I told you to stay in your room! How did you get out, anyway?

She got up and ran without looking back. She never returned.

http://www.kongregate.com/games/TheGameKitchen/the-last-door-chapter-1-the-letter

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ink

Domestic Violence