The Institute: A Dark Anthology

by Dani René

  Her darkness calls to me.

  I know she's not like the others. Her mind is clear, but it’s her personality that shifts in and out, as if a switch turns when it needs to.

  Like a stalker, I follow her. The club is busy, and when I move closer, she doesn’t notice me in the line behind her. A few people separate us, but I feel her. It’s like being tethered to someone. If only she’d turn to look at me, to see me, but I know she won’t because her focus is on the door.

  We shift closer to the entrance, inching our way toward the booming music that vibrates the walls of the establishment. It’s not the first time I’ve done this, followed her around like a lovesick puppy, and each time it’s different.

  She always recognizes me. And I see her.

  When I reach the front of the queue, the bulky man in a black suit offers me a nod. I’ve been here almost every night, ensuring she’s safe because in this state, she could do something reckless, and she could end up getting hurt.

  The place is crowded, but I seek her out. She’s already on the dance floor, her body swaying with her long, flowing hair swishing left to right. Her hips move hypnotically, and even though it’s wrong, my cock throbs.

  She has a drink in her hand, which anyone could slip something inside. I could if I really wanted to. I could drug her, steal her away from this life. The beauty turns on her heel, spinning recklessly. A second later, she trips, and within a millisecond, someone’s hands are on her.

  Masculine fingers trail over her hips, up her torso, and land on her breasts. She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t shove the stranger away. Instead, she smiles and turns in his hold to drape her arms around his neck.

  I watch with jealousy coursing through me. Rose throws her head back as a laugh falls from her lips. My blood boils with a ferocious need to kill him. To slice his neck and allow her to bask in the crimson fluid.

  This is ridiculous.

  Rose is so different, so volatile compared to Katya. One with restraint, and the other . . . a wild child.

  The crowd thickens, and I lose her for a moment. My feet are moving before my mind can catch up. My body has a mind of its own as I fight my way through the mass of sweaty bodies.

  The back door slams shut, the sound catching my attention, forcing me to follow. I do. The moment I step out into the alleyway, I hear her mumbled moan.

  My vision adjusts to the darkness, and I’m entranced by the view before me. Lithe legs wrap around the man she just had on the dance floor. His hips buck into hers, fucking her the way I want to. My cock jolts, wanting to be him. I watch, my hand on my crotch as my eyes bore into her.

  She’s beautiful when she’s unrestrained. As dangerous as a weapon. Her nails claw at his shoulders, and I’m sure she’s drawing blood. He moves faster, her lips parting on gasps I want to swallow and steal.

  The only sounds are rough, feral groans, and her soft whimpers cause my erection to press against my zipper. Her long hair hangs behind her as her head drops back against the cold, open-brick wall.

  The stranger growls his release and pulls out of her immediately. I watch as he rips the condom from his softening cock.

  Rose winks at him, then strolls away as if he means nothing to her. I know he doesn’t because she’s in control. He was merely a distraction. And I’m thankful for that. Once more, I follow her inside the club and up to the bar.

  I don’t speak. I don’t even cast my gaze her way.

  But she feels me.

  I know she does.

  “You’re here.”

  “I am,” I tell her, responding to her greeting.

  “You shouldn’t have come,” she tells me while setting her empty glass down and finally meeting my eyes. “I don’t need you.” With that, she turns and walks away with a new drink in her hand.

  She’s wrong on so many levels. She does need me. If only she’d admit it. My gaze tracks her, finding her with another man, someone different from the one she just fucked against the wall.

  A woman seats herself beside me. “She’s not interested,” Blondie notes, her gaze finding where my attention is locked.

  “You know nothing about me or her.” My voice is drenched in frustration. I shut my eyes, breathing deeply in an attempt to calm myself.

  Blondie doesn’t respond, and I don’t look at her. We just stand there, watching the woman who’s had my attention since the first moment I met her. I gulp down the smoky whiskey, placing the glass on the bar top, signaling for another.

  “Do you want a drink?” I question the woman beside me. When I finally look at her, really look at her, I notice she’s rather beautiful. Nothing like Katya or Rose, but there’s a seductive quality to her. Big blue eyes, light lashes that flutter up at me.

  “I’ll have what you’re having.” she smiles.

  I nod, showing the barman I want two drinks, which he pours in seconds. I slap down a fifty on the counter and turn away with the glass in my hand. The dance floor is packed with bodies writhing against each other. I’m thankful the bar is quiet.

  “Is she an ex?”

  I sip my drink—slow and calm. My cool is slipping again, and I know I need to rein in my anger. Rose’s eyes find mine. The corner of her mouth tilts in a knowing grin. She moves her hips hypnotically as she grinds her ass against a man’s crotch.

  I know she’s taunting me.

  This is what she loves to do.

  Make me hard while I watch her with someone else, but she knows if I walked over there right this second, I’d make her sorry for fucking with me.

  “Something like that,” I tell my new friend. I swallow the drink, draining the glass. “Either you come with me now or find someone else for the night.” I glance at the blue-eyed woman.

  She eagerly swallows her own whiskey with a wince and sets the glass down. I reach for her, lacing my fingers through hers as I tug her toward the exit. It doesn’t take Rose long to notice I’m leaving. The moment I reach my car with Blondie, I see the woman who has me drunk on her intoxicating nature watching from the shadowed corner of the building.

  The man who’s feasting on her neck looks ravenous, but she doesn't seem into it because her green eyes meet mine in a challenge. The parking lot is deserted, and I decide to play Rose’s game. I grab the blonde who squeaks when I lift her, setting her on the hood of my car. I shove her legs apart roughly and trail my hand up between her thighs.

  “What are you—?” Her words are cut off when I find her panties. Pushing them to the side, I lean in and crash my mouth to hers, swallowing any other words she may utter. I kiss her, but my eyes are on the white-haired beauty who’s trapped me.

  The woman on my car is moaning loudly as my fingers dip inside her wet pussy. I finger her until her hips are bucking. The movement of my hand along with the way my tongue snakes into her mouth has her pulsing around me, drenching my palm as I pull away from her.

  Rose's smile is all I need as she makes the man who's shuddering before her come all over her hand. This unhealthy game we play is sick and twisted, not only for her, but for me as well. The problem is, my need for her is dangerous. It’s borderline psychotic. I would know—I’ve studied the mind.

  “That was amazing.” The voice of the stranger I just finger-fucked brings me back to the here and now. Her eyes glisten with desire, her cheeks are flushed a soft pink color, and her legs are still splayed, offering me a glance at the torn panties I ripped from her only moments ago.

  I lost control.

  I fucking played right into Rose’s game. A car rumbles to life farther down the parking lot as she waves to me. The man drives out into the road with her in his passenger seat. I don’t know where they’re going, and I can’t follow.

  I smile down at the woman and utter, “There’s more where that came from.” Offering her a wink, I help her off the hood. Once she’s seated in my car, I settle in beside her and drive to my place. As I near my apartment, I know it’s a mistake to do this. I’ll fuck this woman and throw her out before
she even learns my name.

  I don’t want her to know who I am. I don’t want her near me. But my cock needs a release, and the only way to do that is to play the game. To lose myself in the echo of who I could be because that’s where my Katya is right now, lost in an echo.

  The drive is short, and we’re entering my apartment only ten minutes later. The living room is cold. There are no hints that someone even lives here.

  “Wow,” the woman says.

  “Take off your clothes,” I order her with the need to shut her the fuck up.

  She turns to face me. Her smile falters for a moment before she questions, “What?”

  “Take your fucking clothes off,” I bite out with barely there restraint. I’m as fucked up as Rose. Blondie moves quickly, and I wonder why a woman who’s this beautiful is so desperate for a cock. She bends over the sofa. Her body is open for me, and I can see her wet heat shimmering in the low light.

  I don’t think twice before sheathing my hard cock and plunging into her depths. She squeals, loudly, and I have to bring my hand around to cup her mouth closed. I can’t have her making a fucking sound. I close my eyes, picturing Rose as I fuck this willing cunt. That’s all she is to me, a woman I can slide into and lose myself in for a moment.

  “That’s it,” I hiss. “Take it,” I grunt as my hips slap against her ass. She’s pretty, sexy even, but behind my eyelids is an image of the woman I can’t have.

  My release zips down my spine, collecting in my balls as they draw up, and I empty myself into the rubber. I quickly pull out of the stranger bent over my sofa and stumble backward. Fuck.

  “Get dressed and get out.” I move by her to the kitchen, and she’s hot on my heels. Her shoes are clacking against the varnished wooden flooring of my old Victorian house.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” she squeaks, her voice shrill as it grates through me. I hate the sound, and the moment the condom is in the trash, I spin on my heel and shove my dick in my pants.

  “Get the fuck out of my house. You got what you wanted.”

  I don’t wait for her to respond. Instead, I march to the door, pulling it open. There’s nothing around my property. I live like a goddamn recluse.

  “How am I—?”

  “I don’t give a shit. Next time, don’t be so eager to spread your legs.” I smirk, offering a glare that tells her not to argue. With more clacking, she’s out the door, and I slam it shut behind her.

  I make my way back to the living room where my bar is and grab the bottle of scotch. With a tumbler in hand, I settle on the sofa and turn on the TV. The mindless images that flit across the screen blur into one as I flick through the channels, finding a show I like. Something about a detective solving a gruesome crime, and I wonder just how difficult it must be living life like that. Watching body after body appear, and you’re in charge of solving it.

  My mind goes back to the girls. When I first met Rose and Katya, I knew I had to run in the opposite direction. But I couldn’t because as time passed, I fell in love. I became obsessed.

  The first day Rose stumbled into my arms, I felt a connection that spurred on the events that led me here—to the middle of nowhere. It is all for her. It will always be for her. Those pretty eyes that looked at me with innocence and wonder now glance at me with want and need.

  She’ll soon be mine.

  I should’ve known better than to stay, but I want to see her smile. I should leave now. But I haven’t been the same after knowing them.

  I love Katya, and that means I’m going to have to live with Rose as well.

  Chapter 3

  Katya

  The Present

  The room door clicks; the lock is disarmed. A smile passes my lips when I think of seeing him again. It wasn’t long ago when I first laid my eyes on him. The perfect man. Tall, brooding, and handsome. He took me from my life and brought me here.

  I didn’t think love was possible, especially with my disorder, but Ansel has given me that. He’s offered me a way to have a half normal life. Even though I have to live in an institute, I know he’ll care for me.

  “Katya Petrov,” the orderly’s deep voice comes from the doorway. The small tray of medication is here. Quickly, I push to my feet and head toward the entry where I grab the small cup and swallow back my pills.

  “Thank you,” I tell him with a smile.

  “Doc will be ready in ten minutes. I’ll knock when you can leave,” he informs me like he does every morning. He leaves, and I listen to his footsteps as they make their way down the hall. The squeaky rubber against smooth tiles.

  The knock comes when I least expect it. I’m dressed in a black tank top and my yoga pants. I’m not allowed to wear anything with laces or even a belt. Doc Ansel says I’m dangerous.

  Well . . . not me. Rose is dangerous. She’s the one who can hurt me. But I don’t know her. I’ve never met her, only read her diary entries.

  I pull open my door and step out into the hallway. The hospital is quiet today, which is strange because normally, there are always wails from the rooms, or screams. Sometimes, I hear someone singing or mumbling to themselves.

  The walls breathe as I make my way through the hallway. It’s always had a life of its own. It’s spoken to me on occasion, telling me of the horrors it’s seen. I recall the stories of who lived here before. Ansel brings me books to read to keep my mind active. One of interest is the history behind the building we now know as The Serenity Institute.

  When I first met Ansel, I had just turned eighteen. I was old enough to make my own choices, and he was one of the best ones I’d made. I wanted to tell him to leave me alone, that I’d find my own way.

  But since our first meeting to the last, just before he brought me to Serenity, I knew I could never walk away from him. He was my life, my everything, and he loved me no matter what.

  Even when she’s taken over.

  Chapter 4

  Rose

  The Past

  Growing up, I wasn’t alone. I had friends to talk to, to play with, even though they weren’t real. My aunt and uncle did the best they could for me, but at twenty-one, I’ve been granted the home my father left for me in his will.

  The road winds a lot as we make our way to the town center. It’s an old-world type of place. I’ve lived here since I was born. Everyone knows me and my family because Daddy owned everything.

  We’re close to a city, but the town steals my heart. It’s where I belong. My body shudders with a cold chill when we pull up to a small building with the sign glinting at me in the bright light from the sun.

  The car stops outside the offices that look like they’ve seen better days. Shoving open the door, I grab my purse and step out of the vehicle onto the cobbled street and into the warm, early morning sunshine. For a moment, I enjoy the heat.

  The street is quiet, and I didn’t expect anything more. This is a sleepy old town, and I wonder why a doctor would even bother coming to live in this shithole.

  “Thank you. I’ll be done in an hour,” I inform my driver.

  Ravens Peak is a one-street town you’d miss if you blinked while driving by. With a small post office, general grocer, and a few other random stores dotted around, there’s nothing of importance here. The only thing that really did make money for the town was my father’s investment into the town itself.

  His business was all above-ground—importing and exporting of electronic goods. But I believe anything that’s shiny and pristine on the outside is decaying on the inside. Now that he’s gone, and the company shut down, all I have left is the house and my memories.

  When I open my eyes, I glance at the window of the first floor to find a figure watching over me. If I were normal, I would probably be afraid, but I find his gaze comforting.

  Dr. Sterling.

  Perhaps he’ll be the one to cure me. They told me my diagnosis when I was younger. They gave me pills to make me better.

  But nothing seems to heal my mind.

&
nbsp; I’ve come to live with it.

  Once inside the building, I find a young receptionist sitting at the desk. She smiles up at me, but I don’t recognize her.

  Sighing, I step closer to the desk.

  “Hello.” She grins happily. Far too fucking happy.

  “I’m here to see Dr. Sterling.”

  She nods. Her bright-red hair shimmers under the low lights, and I wonder for a moment what color her blood would be mingled with the strands.

  “He’s waiting, just down the hall to your left.” She hands me a small card and gestures for me to make my way down toward the brightly lit passageway.

  “Thank you.” I nod, strolling over the cheap, threadbare carpet that makes me wonder if he’s going to redo everything since moving in here three months ago. I push open the door to his office, and the scent of male cologne hits my senses immediately.

  Cigarettes and spice.

  Once the door is shut behind me, I turn and head farther into the room. When I finally lay my eyes on him, the breath is knocked from my lungs as he trails his steely gaze over me. My eyes are glued to his. The same color as the thundering sky on a cool winter’s day, just outside the large windows behind where he’s seated in an ornate armchair. A shiver trickles through me, causing goosebumps to rise on every inch of my body.

  There’s a darkness to him, but I can’t put my finger on it.

  It’s as if he’s a magnetic force, tugging at me.

  The corner of his mouth kicks up into a small grin that causes a dimple to form in his cheek, making him look younger than I’m sure he really is. It’s an intriguing feature on the man seated before me.

  He’s dressed in a pair of brown slacks with a matching waist coat and a pastel blue button-up. The black-rimmed glasses sitting on his nose frame his sky-gray eyes, making them seem like art pieces.

  “Good morning, Ms. Petrov,” he says in a voice that fits his face.