“Jeremy Clark, I am arresting you for the murder of Simon Devonshire. You do not have to say anything, but anything you do not say when questioned but later rely on in court may be used as evidence against you,” one of the officers said from behind Jeremy. His voice was monotone, cold. This was just another day, another offender taken from general population. It almost sounded as if he was bored with the whole process.
“What …” Jeremy began to rise, but a strong pair of hands clamped down on his shoulders once more and forced him back into the seat. Both men stood behind Jeremy, and made no motion to take either of the spare seats around the table.
Doctor Marshall sat in his allotted chair and flicked through a paper file that had been placed before him. He moved at a leisurely pace, as if he was enjoying the occasion. The only sound in the room was Jeremy’s mother’s sobs, which she tried to stifle in her hands.
“Jeremy,” the doctor said. Closing the file, he looked across the table and met Jeremy’s gaze. “Do you understand what is happening right now?” He spoke slowly, and Jeremy felt a little relief break through the terror that had embraced him at the same moment the cold steel had embraced his wrists. He had fooled them. They thought the drugs were still raging through his system.
“I didn’t kill Simon,” Jeremy stuttered. His fear may have been penetrated, but it was not defeated. A tidal wave of emotion rolled through him. Jeremy had no idea if he was supposed to be able to cry whilst under the influence of the drugs, but it made no difference. He could not have held the tears at bay under any circumstances.
“You can stop playing now, Jeremy. You do not need to lie anymore. All of the forensic tests have come back and we can prove that you murdered Simon. We do not need to hear you confess, but we want you to. The weight of a lie as heavy as this will eat away at you. Until you acknowledge what happened, you will never be able to free yourself from the guilt, or move forward with your life.” The sugar-coated words of support did nothing to help Jeremy’s mood. He wanted to retch from the falsity of it all.
Jeremy looked around at the figures sitting at the table. His mother glanced in his direction and upon seeing her son’s face she broke down even further, burying her head in her arms. His father sat stoic; he had not moved since Jeremy had been brought into the room. He made no attempt to look at his son, and offered nothing by way of support. Jeremy could feel the disappointment seeping from the man, an emotional pheromone. It was so strong it was choking.
“I’m not lying,” Jeremy began, but Doctor Marshall cut him off.
“Your parents and I have been talking. They have agreed to sign you into my permanent custody. That way I can guarantee you will get the treatment that you need.”
“No!” Jeremy yelled.
“You need help, Jeremy.” Doctor Marshall continued as if he had not heard anything.
“I didn’t hurt Simon. He was my best friend. The creatures kill–”
“You’re dangerous. I won’t have you walking the streets, and jail won’t teach you a damned thing,” Jeremy’s father bellowed, making everybody at the table jump. He slammed his hands down into the cheap surface and the impact rang out like thunder.
“I didn’t kill Simon,” Jeremy said. His words were a repetition, or so it felt to him, and the ears that heard him were deaf to them. “I didn’t kill my friend,” he said once more, in a softer tone. One that sounded less of a statement and more an attempt to convince himself that it was still the truth.
Nobody paid Jeremy any mind. Even his father’s outburst had settled neatly into the past.
“I have all of the paperwork here. All I need are some signatures and we will be able to get your son all of the help he needs.” The caring voice had returned.
Doctor Marshall slid the file across the table and William opened it up, and without pausing to read so much as the title of the documents, flicked through and signed on every dotted line he saw. He then proceeded to initial each page in the bottom right hand corner. When he was done he turned the file towards his wife and offered her the pen. She refused to take it, staring at it as if it were some sort of poisoned chalice. Using its ink would sentence her soul to damnation. She stared at her husband, her eyes were bright red, burned from the tears.
“We’ve talked about this. Sign the damned papers.” William spoke through gritted teeth, his patience gone; his temper short.
Reaching out with a trembling hand, Sandra gasped as her husband forced her fingers closed around the pen’s shaft and guided her hand through each signature and every initial. When it was done he let her hand go, and Jeremy saw the imprint of his father’s hand on his mother’s skin.
With everything signed, William closed the file and slid it back to the doctor.
Doctor Marshall looked at William and Sandra, his face emotionless, before he turned his attention back to Jeremy. “You are very lucky, Jeremy. Your father and I have been friends a very long time. I am pulling quite a few strings to get you transferred here. We all care about your future, and are keen to see you handled properly.”
Jeremy heard the words, but more importantly heard the sinister undertone they came with.
“That will be all, officers. Thank you for your time,” Doctor Marshall said, and a moment later the handcuffs were removed and the police officers left the room, guided by an orderly who had entered a moment before. Neither said a word.
It all happened so fast that Jeremy barely had the time to process everything before he was being hauled back to his feet and taken from the room.
“Mum … Dad ... you can’t leave me here,” Jeremy cried out as two orderlies tightened their grip on his arms and pulled him away, his toes only just touching the floor as they went.
“Jeremy … I’m sorry!” his mother wailed in a tear-ravaged voice.
The last thing Jeremy saw as he looked back over his shoulder was his mother rise to her feet only to collapse, grief stricken, into her husband. William made no attempt to catch his wife, and stood watching as his son was led away. His face was expressionless.
The door closed but the sound of his mother’s anguish echoed through the hallway, and for the first time since he had arrived, Jeremy thought the place sounded like an asylum. It also dawned on him that the building was normally silent, other than the sound of Karen’s various pleasure-driven groans. That’s not quite true, a voice spoke up inside his head. There is something on the first floor. You heard it before, the voice sneered. Jeremy didn’t trust it, but no sooner had he heard the words, the memories came flooding back to him.
The first floor was always dark, the shroud was total in its density, but he had heard something. Jeremy didn’t know how or what good it would do, but he needed to get onto the first floor.
However, rather than being taken back to his room as he had expected, Jeremy was delivered to the small communal room. He sighed when he saw Nurse Anja sitting behind the small desk that stood just inside the room. At the same time, he had a bad feeling about the large black woman sitting beside her. They both sat looking at a pile of files and medical charts. Anja looked up when the door opened. She looked at Jeremy, but she gave no indication that she even recognized his presence.
The orderlies released Jeremy and spoke to the two women behind the desk before leaving.
There were two other patients in the room with Jeremy, but it was clear that neither would be good company. Both sat in front of an old-fashioned television set. The Wizard of Oz was playing. Judy Garland was looking out at the yellow brick road which stretched before her. Take the red road Dorothy, Jeremy thought, smiling at the screen.
While both patients stayed facing the TV, their drug addled expressions told Jeremy that neither were aware of where they were, let alone what they were watching.
“You need to drink this,” the large black nurse said. Jeremy hadn’t noticed that she left her position. He jumped, turning as she spoke, surprised that he had not heard anything, given not only her size but also the overpowering
stench of tobacco which she exuded too carelessly.
The nurse thrust a plastic cup into Jeremy’s hands and stood watching … waiting for him to drink it. Over her shoulder Jeremy saw Anja look up from the desk. She looked at Jeremy, looked around, her eyes darting quickly left and right, before she gave him a nod. Trusting her, Jeremy drank the contents of the cup in one go and gave it back to the nurse, who seemed almost disappointed that he had done as ordered. After checking the cup and making Jeremy open his mouth to prove he had swallowed everything, she turned and waddled back towards the desk.
Left to his heavily scrutinized own devices, Jeremy walked around the room trying to find his spot. He settled for a chair by the window. For the first time in longer than he cared to think about, Jeremy was afforded an uninterrupted view of the outside world.
It was raining out, but Jeremy didn’t care. He could see the sky and he saw the grass. The strength of his longing was enough for him to feel the fresh air against his face, the rain wetting his skin.
Jeremy felt everything slip away as he lost himself in thought. He didn’t know what made him turn away from the scene, it was so peaceful outside, but his gaze left the window nonetheless. The hallway was deserted, but as he looked, the wall moved. It slip backwards revealing a hidden door. Behind it was a deceptively long corridor, the tiled floor jogged his memory. It was the same corridor he had seen before. It was no dream. Doctor Marshall appeared in the revealed hallway. He walked through into the main body of the house and turned right, towards the building’s entrance.
The doctor was flipping through sheets of paper attached to a clipboard. Through the window, Jeremy’s sharp eyesight saw charts and graphs on the pages as they were skimmed through. Due to his interest in the charts, the doctor was too busy to notice that Jeremy was standing staring at him. Not that he was still looking at the doctor. Something else had caught his attention.
The doorway began to close, the section of wall rising from the floor. But it was not quick enough to hide the appearance of the figure at the end of the hallway. Jeremy didn’t need a double take for his brain to recognize what he saw, however fleeting the glimpse was. Jeremy would never forget his previous encounter with the creature, for it had been eating his best friend.
Jeremy felt his legs buckle and he fell to the floor. He came to and Anja was standing over him, offering a hand to help him to his feet.
“You saw it, didn’t you?” she asked in a terrified whisper.
‘Yes,” Jeremy answered, his voice equally hushed. It sounded drowsy to his ears. He felt as if he were standing on a boat, out at sea, at the mercy of the tide. Nothing he touched felt stable.
“Say nothing of it.” Anja spoke quickly, her tone serious. “I will come to you tonight. We will talk. I promise you. I will answer all of your questions.” Her words came quicker and quicker, as she looked around nervously, scared of being caught. As if their very proximity to one another was enough cause for people to suspect a collusion between them. Anja walked away without waiting for an answer, unable to risk spending any more time in conversation with a patient.
Jeremy spent the rest of his time in the communal room staring at the space in the wall where the hidden doorway was. Now that he knew it was there, it was impossible not to see the faint line in the wall; no matter how hard he tried to convince himself that he had imagined it all.
Chapter 9
Anja did not arrive at Jeremy’s room that night. He sat waiting, growing more nervous with the minute. He jumped to his feet when the door opened, and only just managed to remove his enthusiasm when the large cigarette smoking nurse from earlier in the afternoon entered, carrying his tray with food. His eyes quickly moved from her to the tray. His spirits dropped when he saw the glass of juice standing alone.
“Drink it,” she commanded as she placed the tray on the table and thrust the drink into Jeremy’s hands. She then stood back, arms folded and waited with a look of angry impatience set onto her features. “I said drink it,” the large woman barked.
Left with no other option but to acquiesce to her demands, Jeremy drank. Conscious of the slimy feel to the liquid as it slid down his throat. It was everything he could do to stop his body´s natural gag reflex from rejecting the liquid.
As she had done that morning, the nurse inspected the cup as it was returned to her, ensuing that every ounce had been drained. Without further instruction she turned and left. Pulling the door shut behind her.
Jeremy stood and counted to ten, listening as her footsteps receded down the hall. He then walked casually to the toilet, dropped to his knees and forced himself to vomit up everything he had ingested. As his fingers wormed their way deeper into his mouth, Jeremy felt his stomach cramp as his body rejected the substance he had been given. He coughed and sputtered as an effervescent blue vomit spewed from his mouth. The eruption was so forceful Jeremy had to adjust his position in order to keep his disgorge from missing the bowl.
With his stomach empty, Jeremy rose to his feet. The world around him was beginning to spin. The drugs were fast acting. He could only hope that he had regurgitated enough of the substance to keep control. He still held hope that Anja would arrive with answers. She would not dessert him.
Jeremy sat on the bed and waited. When suddenly his door opened with a rough and frantic yank. Anja sprang into the room and closed the door behind her. Her face was white and she wore an expression of complete terror. Jeremy thought it remarkable how, even in near petrified state, Anja’s beauty seemed to shine even brighter.
“We have no time. You must move tonight,” she began, hurried, gulping at the air. It was clear that she had been running. “You must get out of this place … now. Here, take this.” She leaned forward and kissed Jeremy on the forehead. In the same moment she slipped something into his hand; a key. “It unlocks the front door. I’m sorry, it was the best I could do.” Anja moved away, her face growing paler by the second. “You will need to move fast. They can see the driveway out of their offices.”
“I don’t understand.” Jeremy paused as another wave of dizzying nausea washed over him.
“I will tell you everything. I promise. But we cannot talk here. Meet me at my house. Forty-Seven Chester Street, Apartment B. I will be waiting for you.” Anja leaned forward and took Jeremy’s hand within her own, squeezing it. He felt her body trembling through her grip. Anja rose and walked out of the room, leaving the door open as she had done before.
Jeremy stared at the key, and replayed what he could remember of their conversation in his mind. He focused on the address she had given him. The rest could come later, but without that location, he would be lost.
Unsure how he would tell when the time was right, Jeremy decided to take the chance and move while he had the nerve. His head was groggy, but beginning to clear. Jeremy had enough of his wits about him to know what he was doing, and to ensure his movements were filled with purpose.
The hallway was quiet, but Jeremy forced himself to move with caution. He was aware of every sound the large building made. That was when he heard it again. The strange hum. It was a mixture of the thrum of overhead power cables and a growling moan or a cornered cat.
Jeremy pushed it to the back of his mind, and did his best to ignore the cold shiver that sprinted up and down his spine.
The door to Karen’s room was open. Jeremy stopped, the notion of taking her with him popped into his mind, like all other bad ideas had a habit of doing with him. Looking into the room, Jeremy saw Karen on the bed. She was naked, the sheets thrown to one side. Jeremy cleared this throat.
“Karen, Karen, are you awake?” he whispered, loud enough to be heard but not overheard. No response came.
Entering the room, Jeremy approached the bed. A ball of ice punched him in the gut when he saw the straps that held Karen in place.
“Karen?” Jeremy half asked, half cried.
He reached the bed and knew that it was too late. Her body lay immobile, alive, but unresponsive. Jere
my watched her chest rise and fall. His eyes fell to her breasts, ruined by her madness, they were covered in veins and scars from the abuse she had suffered at the hands of the orderlies. One nipple clearly deformed, the skin around it scarred with what were unmistakably teeth impressions.
“What have they done to you?” Jeremy whispered in a broken voice. Even though he didn’t really know the girl, his body shook at the realization of her condition.
Jeremy’s eyes wandered down Karen’s body. Her emaciated frame seemed to have lost even more weight, her bones could be seen beneath her skin. A nasty scar ran across her abdomen, stretching from left to right. It had been crudely stitched, enough to hold the flaps of flesh together. The jagged mess of flesh beneath made it look as if something had ripped her apart. No blade could have cause that much damage.
That was the only crudely sealed wound on her body. Jeremy had put off looking at Karen’s face. He was fearful of what he might see. It had to be done. He steeled himself and his eyes met hers. They were open, but sightless, even if it did feel as though she were staring straight at him. The whites of her eyes were stained a deep red, and her head had been shaved.
As with her midsection, the wound that encircled Karen’s skull had been loosely sewn together, but a clear fluid still leaked from the join.
“Jesus wept.” Jeremy whispered under his breath, backing away from the table. He had never before known a fear as all-encompassing as that which gripped him in that moment.
Jeremy knew he had to leave. He needed to get out of the building, but an intense sadness kept him there. He recalled the bodies strapped to the beds in the other rooms on the floor. What are they really doing here? Jeremy asked himself. Stepping back up to the bed, he reached out and closed Karen’s eyes. He then bent down and retrieved the bed sheet from the floor. Draping it over her body, he closed his eyes and stood a moment in silence.
Evil Beneath Us Page 9