Damned (Kassidy Bell Series Book 4)

by Lynda O'Rourke

  Regaining my composure, I said, “So you do understand me… you aren’t crazy?”

  Sylvia shrugged her shoulders and with a smile, said, “I’m not crazy at the moment…”

  “What does that mean?” I asked, continuing to walk along the track.

  “It means I have moments of understanding… but more moments of craziness.” She smiled again, her mouth full of black stumps. “I’m not sure if I’m insane. I’m not sure if VA10 is turning me mad or whether it’s the drugs I was given at the asylum.”

  I continued to walk along the track. My head was filled with so many questions – I’d had so much that I wanted to ask but now the opportunity was here, my mind felt clouded – jumbled like it was filled with the fog the Cleaners travelled in. A part of me was just stunned that Sylvia had responded to me. I suddenly felt overwhelmed. A thick lump formed in my throat, and as I went to speak, my voice cracked and tears spilled out, running down my cheeks. I stopped walking and covered my eyes with my hands. “I’m… sorry,” I sobbed, “I… I feel such a wreck…” I gasped in air and tried to steady my shaky limbs. “I’m so confused… I’m so lost… I don’t have a fucking clue as to what’s happening to me. How’s it all going to end, Sylvia? What will happen to us?” I rubbed at my eyes and wiped my damp cheeks with the sleeve of my top.

  Sylvia shuffled over to me. Her blonde hair swished about her face as a huge gust of wind travelled down the track we were stood on. I felt myself wobble from the blast. Sylvia, still handcuffed, reached out and steadied me, her bent fingers twisted around my arm. “You hear voices inside your head, don’t you?” she said. “I hear them, too. Not in the asylum… the drugs they gave me there dulled my senses… but now I’m out and the drugs are leaving me, I hear voices telling me to kill. But I fight them… that’s what you have to do… fight.”

  I looked up into her face and nodded my head slowly. “I’m trying… but last night those voices got me… they took me… wiped my own thoughts away. I lost control. It’s like everything evil is inside my head and I’m scared I’m gonna kill someone.”

  Sylvia looked up at the burnt trees thrashing above us. Her white coat blew open revealing the dirty, blood-stained hospital gown she wore. She looked down at herself and then back to me and said, “I don’t know what’s worse… the asylum or here.” She shook her head. “They pulled my fingernails out and injected my gums with something that made my teeth rot.”

  “The asylum you mean?” I asked, feeling myself tense at the thought.

  Sylvia nodded her head, and holding up her hands so I could see her fingers, she whispered, “They did it to stop me from biting and scratching the staff. I have some good teeth still.” She stretched open her mouth and revealed mostly black stumps.

  I could just see five sharp teeth left and I took a step back remembering the damage she had done in the police cell to the man locked up next to her.

  As if she could read my thoughts, she said, “I don’t always win. I don’t always manage to control myself… I can’t always fight the voices. These teeth I have left…” She opened her mouth again and shoved a finger inside, running it over the sharp points. “These teeth…I have to look after them. I use these like a weapon.” She stepped toward me, snapping her jaws open and closed.

  I stumbled back, gravel spraying up from the track. Another sharp gust of wind raced through the trees. The branches above shook and creaked like an old wooden door groaning in the wind.

  Sylvia stopped in front of me. Her eyes had that wild look about them. She held up her hands and shook the handcuffs violently, the clanking of the cuffs lost in the moan of the howling wind. “When my nails grow back, I’ll dig out your eyes slowly… I’ll crush them under my feet.” She jumped up and down as if acting out her idea. “Or maybe… I’ll slice under your skin and rip out your poisoned veins one by one, and…” She stopped and took a step back, holding her head in her hands. “Stop it! Stop it! I don’t want to hear it! Be quiet… I don’t want to hurt Kassidy!” She looked up, and gasping for breath, she smiled.

  I stood silent, afraid to move. My heart pounded in my chest. I looked around at my surroundings. I was not in a great place for Sylvia to turn crazy. I was out here alone. In the near dark. How should I respond to her? What if I said something wrong? I decided to stay quiet. Wait for Sylvia’s next move. Maybe staying silent would keep her calm. But if it was the voices in her head telling her to hurt me, there was nothing I could do about that. I hadn’t been able to control myself last night, let alone control someone else’s thoughts. I waited. The silence from Sylvia seemed to last an eternity until suddenly she spoke up.

  She peered out at me from under her hair and whispered, “At least in the asylum, my head was quiet… well, most of the time. Out here… it’s like I have a hundred people living inside my head.”

  Sylvia stared at me, her eyes wide like she was in a state of shock.

  Taking a step nearer to me, her voice high-pitched and sounding childlike, she said, “I can’t hear myself speak sometimes. I’m scared out here… I want to go back to the asylum. Please take me back.”

  “You can’t hide in the asylum anymore,” I said. “It’s no longer safe for you there.”

  “It’s no safer out here either,” said Sylvia, tears in her eyes. She clasped her hands together and screwed them tight. “I tried to kill myself you know… I wanted to throw myself off a bridge and end it. But Robert tried to stop me… the police came and they stopped me instead. Robert ran away. He left me. He left me alone.” Staring at the ground and shaking, Sylvia whispered, “I think I’ve seen hell. I think I was in it… back at Strangers Hill. I saw terrible things… so much blood… the screaming!” She held her head again as if she could still hear the screams playing out in her mind. “I wish it would stop… I wish I could wipe my memory. …but you can’t, can you? Once you’ve seen it… it’s there for ever. It eats away at you.”

  Trying to block my own memories of Cruor Pharma, I nodded my head and whispered, “Yes… you can’t ever forget what you’ve seen. The bad things override everything good. You see it before you fall asleep… and it’s the first thing you see when you wake up. We’re scarred.”

  “Scarred?” whispered Sylvia, “We’re more than scarred… we’re damned.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Kassidy

  As we continued to walk along the track, my mind was consumed with thoughts of Sylvia. I realised now what she was all about. All those doubts about her had gone. What little time I had spent with her had been enough to make me understand how Sylvia’s mind worked. It wasn’t just a simple case of either being insane, or turned into a monster from VA10, or psychological damage from the things she had witnessed. She was a product from all three. I knew that made her dangerous to be around. She could flip from one thing to the next in a blink of an eye. But there was still some Sylvia left within her. And for that reason, I couldn’t turn my back on her. I couldn’t lock Sylvia away and cage her up like some animal. But still, I would have to watch myself around her. Would she get worse? Would I have to watch Sylvia slowly deteriorate like I’d had to watch my father slowly kill himself through drink? And what about myself? Where did this understanding of Sylvia leave me? We had been given a different kind of drug. VA20 was supposedly the successful one. Did that mean that I wouldn’t end up as bad as Sylvia?

  A sudden gust of wind, stirred me from my thoughts. I still had so much to ask. So turning to Sylvia, I said, “You told me that Jude is your friend. Is he?”

  Sylvia stumbled along beside me. She had picked up a bit more pace now, no longer shuffling. Turning her head, she threw a question at me. “Have you seen Robert? Is he here?”

  I wrapped my arms about me and said, “I haven’t seen him. Doctor Langstone says he has Robert… but he won’t give him to us unless we do something for him.”

  “What does Langstone want?” asked Sylvia, looking over her shoulder back along the way we had come.

 
Her stare had me checking over my own shoulder. My eyes peered back along the track. The burnt trees blackened the way, casting the gravel in shadows. I shivered and wondered how much further we had to go to reach the gates. I strained my eyes trying to penetrate the darkness but I could see nothing. Turning back and facing forward, I said, “He wants us to go back to…” I stopped. Perhaps I shouldn’t tell Sylvia. If she thought she would have to go back to Strangers Hill it would probably finish her off.

  “Go back where?” Sylvia pushed, her cuffs rattling with each step she took.

  “I’m not sure yet,” I lied. I felt guilty for not telling her the truth. After all, I needed Sylvia to trust me. But alone out here, I didn’t want to do anything that would upset her. So steering the subject away from Langstone, I asked about Robert. “How was Robert when he left you?”

  “You mean, was he crazy like me?” said Sylvia, her eyes narrowed as she peered at me.

  Had I said the wrong thing? I thought for a few moments before saying anything back. No, I had to ask. I had to do it for Max. “Well… his brother is here, Max. You know, the one with the long, blonde hair. He’s desperate to know if Robert is okay.”

  Shaking her arms so the handcuffs clanked loudly, she said, “He has the black veins… I’ve seen them.” Sylvia shuddered, hunched forward against the wind. Then checking back over her shoulder, she said, “But he has kind eyes. Robert helped me escape… not just from Cruor Pharma, but from the bishop’s house. I don’t think he’s mad…”

  Sylvia’s constant checking over her shoulder had me paranoid. I looked over my right shoulder into the dark mangle of trees. There was nothing to see. Still feeling on edge, I then checked over my left shoulder. If there was anything lurking in the dark, I wouldn’t see it anyway. The daylight had almost vanished. There was no point in trying to listen for footsteps either, the wind was too loud. Facing front again, I asked, “Was this the place you were heading for before the police got you?”

  Nodding her head and shivering from the cold, she said, “Yes… that other doctor… on Ward 1… I remember him telling Robert to find Doctor Langstone, but…” She broke off and screwed her eyes shut tight.

  “But what?” I pushed.

  “Alex… he got really bad. There was a priest… a small church in the grounds of Cruor Pharma. He told Robert to head to the bishop’s home… he said we would find help there.” Sylvia stopped dead in her tracks and stared at me. Taking a deep breath, she whispered, “But we didn’t get help. There was no helping Alex. By the time we got there… he was crazy… spitting and hissing. He’d turned from a nice guy into some kind of rabid animal. The bishop… and that horrible woman who lived there… they tried to lock us up – shut us in the attic with Alex. But Robert got us out. We left Alex there, trapped in the attic, and then we fled.”

  Sylvia started to walk on, her head hung low.

  “Who was the doctor who told you to find Langstone?” I asked, following close behind her.

  “He helped us to escape… let us out through some side door into the grounds of Cruor Pharma. I think his name was Doctor Fletcher,” mumbled Sylvia.

  I felt my heart jump at the mention of Ben. Knowing it had been he who had helped them to escape made me feel happy. It showed that he had always been fighting the demon in him – not just for me and my friends but for others too. I wondered how many past volunteers Ben had tried to help. But had it been Ben who suggested coming to see Langstone or had that been Quint?

  The uneven track rounded to the left, and as we followed it, I could just make out the gates in the distance. But that wasn’t all I could see. As I slowed my steps, I suddenly felt very scared. The sight of the fog so close just behind the gates had my heart racing.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Kassidy

  I’d only taken a few steps toward the gate when Sylvia placed both hands on my arm. Gripping me, she leaned closer and whispered. “I know what lurks in that fog… you get lost in the mist – you don’t come out alive.”

  I stared at the thick, white swirls behind the gate. It danced and glided as if it were alive – harmless – enticing. It shifted like it breathed. Keeping my eyes firmly on the gate, I said, “I’ve seen the creatures who hide in it. I’ve seen what they do.” I took another step nearer, careful not to make too much noise treading over the gravel.

  Sylvia yanked on my arm. “No… stay away… please don’t let them in!”

  Ignoring her and pulling my arm away, I found myself walking slowly toward the gate. I felt drawn to the fog. A curiosity – a fascination that seemed to will me on. Voices inside my head whispered – coaxed me to step closer. As if I were in a trance, I stumbled up to the gates. In the corner of my eye, I could see Sylvia shuffling alongside me, and in between each gust of wind, I could hear her mumbling. The voices in my head, spoke gently – calmly. They weren’t like the vicious tirade of the voices last night.

  “Open the gates,” they whispered, “Step into the fog… breathe it in… feel it on your skin.”

  Feeling like I was in some kind of dream, I held my arms up, wrapping my fingers around the iron bars of the gate. I stared into the wispy swirls. They pirouetted and brushed over my fingers like feathers. I suddenly felt wanted – like the fog needed me and I needed it.

  The voices inside my head charmed me – sweet-talked me, “Embrace the fog… touch it… let it in,” they hushed.

  Sylvia stood beside me clasping the iron bars. She went to push her arms through but the handcuffs prevented her from doing so. Instead, she carefully placed both arms together and slipped them through the bars of the gates. I watched, mesmerized as the wisps of fog tangled around her fingers. I looked down at my own arms, surprised to see them already through the iron bars. The fog glided around my wrists and twisted down my fingers. I felt its touch – soothing me – pacifying the fast beat of my heart. Nothing else seemed to matter. The wind had gone and the night seemed silent – peaceful. I closed my eyes and allowed the fog to embrace the skin on my arms, all the while, the voices in my head whispered promises of things to come if I opened the gates.

  I opened my eyes and stared into the fog. Its touch seemed heavier now and the white, wispy strands had become thicker, darker, nearer somehow. It had crept up on me in silence like a tide coming in. Its tangled weave confused me as tendrils seemed to shoot out from every direction. I stared wide-eyed as shadows seemed to form within the fog, yet somehow, I didn’t pull away. The fog had me transfixed, and although deep down I knew something wasn’t right, I continued to stand still. I heard Sylvia sob. Her face was pushed up tight against the bars and her arms still hung on the other side of the gate.

  “They’re coming… I feel them,” she sobbed.

  I watched as Sylvia tried to pull away from the gate but she seemed stuck like her arms would no longer squeeze back through the bars. The voices in my head became louder – forceful. They began to scream at me.

  “Open up! Open the gates… let the Cleaners take you!”

  The voices cut through me like a knife. They bombarded my head with their demands. I screwed my eyes shut, willing the voices to be quiet. I tried to pull my arms back from the other side of the gate, but like Sylvia, I was stuck.

  “Open the fucking gates!” screamed the voices. “Let them in – you know you must let them in – do it!”

  I stared down at the iron handle. The pain inside my head from the screaming voices crippled me. My eyes hurt and my eardrums felt close to exploding. I wanted them to stop. I wanted the voices to leave me alone.

  “No! Don’t let them in!”

  As if I’d just received an electric shock, my body tremored – my insides seemed to move – shift. Whose voice was that? I hadn’t heard it before. It was different from the others. Where had it come from? I tried to look over my shoulder to see whose voice it was. But as I did, one of the dark shadows within the fog rushed out and snatched at my arms. I felt my knees go weak as I stared into the face of a Cleaner.
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  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Kassidy

  The Cleaners moved silently in the fog. But now, up close, the unmistakable sound of creaking flooded my memory with flashbacks of them inside Cruor Pharma. As I stared up into the Cleaner’s face, the fear I felt for it was like nothing else I had feared before. It snatched at my arms with its gloved hands, yanking me into the iron bars. The silence was suddenly shattered with the sound of Sylvia and me hitting the gate. I gasped as more Cleaners appeared from out of the fog. Their black, leather aprons creaked as they seemed to float on the other side of the gate. I tried to pull away but the Cleaner wouldn’t let go. Its hands moved quickly up my arm like it was climbing a rope. With each grab, it yanked me into the iron bars. I heard Sylvia cry out as she too was pulled forcefully into the gate. My body slammed again into the barrier that separated Sylvia and I from the Cleaners – my face wrenched tight between the gaps of the cold, iron bars. As I stared up into the Cleaner’s face, it’s dark, murky eyes only visible, a black surgical mask covering the lower half of its face, I could see its hunger for me. A greediness – desperation for my body. It snatched again at me – each grab savage in its attempt to claim me. Gloved hands shot through between the bars from all directions – fingers grabbed and pinched at air like hungry people waiting to be fed. The fog seemed to build in momentum. Plumes of dirty white swelled angrily forward as if opening up its jaws ready to consume Sylvia and me. Its strength pushed up against the gate – a pressure that felt crushing. The voices in my head continued to scream abuse and threats.

  “Fucking bitch!”

  “Open the gates!”

  “We’re gonna kill you, whore!”

  “Rip open your body and take you apart bit by bit!”

  I screwed my eyes shut. My head felt crammed full of people – overcrowded – wearing me down. They screamed over each other. Abuse after abuse. Until my strength started to fade – erode. I glanced at the iron handle on the gate.