Asylum: The Complete Series (All 8 Books)

by Amy Cross

  A few hours later, after he's cleaned the entire ward, Morris spots Nurse Winter walking into her office. Heading back to the janitorial closet, he fetches the crate and wheels it to Nurse Winter's door, knocking for a moment before taking it inside.

  "What's that?" she asks, looking up from the papers on her desk.

  "No idea," Morris says, putting the crate on the floor over by the coffee table. "It was delivered this morning. It's got your name on it".

  "Well, what's in it?" she asks.

  "No idea," he says.

  "Who delivered it?"

  "I don't know," he replies. "I didn't see anyone".

  Clearly curious, Nurse Winter gets up and walks over to the crate. "I didn't send for anything," she says. "Open it".

  Morris grabs the hammer that's been hanging from his belt, and he uses the claw end to rip open the top of the crate. It takes a few minutes, but finally he pulls the lid aside. As soon as he sees the contents, he pauses, completely shocked.

  "Is this some kind of joke?" Nurse Winter asks, staring into the crate with barely concealed rage.

  Morris shakes his head.

  "I want to know who sent this," she continues. "I don't care how you find out, just get me answers".

  "I'll call the delivery company," Morris says, peering into the box. "But I don't know if this is anything to do with them". He stands there, finding it hard to stop looking at the contents of the box. Stuffed inside, there are scores of dead crows, maybe a hundred or more, their shiny black eyes staring up at Nurse Winter and Morris. A whole case of dead crows.

  Annie Radford

  Lakehurst Psychiatric Hospital. Today

  "Annie?" says the voice. "Annie?"

  I look up and find Nurse Perry staring at me with a smile on her face. She seems to want me to do something, but I don't understand. I should understand, because I'm pretty sure this has happened before, but I've got some kind of mental block.

  "You have to take your pills, Annie," she says eventually.

  I open my mouth to ask what she means, but then I look down and see that I'm holding three small green pills in my hand. I guess these are the pills she wants me to take, right? I mean, that would make sense. Otherwise, whose pills are these and where are mine? Why would she give me someone else's pills? I look over my shoulder, and I see that all the other patients are busy with their own things. Obviously none of them are waiting for pills, which means...

  "Have some water," Nurse Perry says, holding out a small plastic cup filled with a clear liquid. I guess that's water, but isn't water supposed to be blue? Or is it clear? Why is everything so complicated? I look over at the painting on the wall of the recreation room: it shows a boat sailing on a sunny day, and the sea is blue. So why is the water in the cup not blue? What's she really trying to get me to drink?

  "Thanks," I say, taking the cup. I pop the pills into my mouth and use my tongue to tuck them between my teeth and gums, and then I take the cup of water and swallow a few sips.

  "See?" Nurse Perry continues. "It's not that bad, is it?"

  Without answering, I put the cup down and wander across the room. It's mid-morning, and there are a few other patients sitting around. Most of them are just staring into space, but a few of them are chatting away. I've been in this place for a while now, and I still don't really know anyone. There was Kirsten at first, but then she turned out to be someone else, and since then I've been reluctant to really get into conversation with any of the other patients. I spend my days shuffling around, observing everyone else. The problem, though, is that almost everyone here is trying to act out the role of observer, which means that we all end up sitting around observing one another, and no-one ever does anything interesting.

  I take a seat by the window and look out across the lawn. What I want, more than anything, is to be allowed out there alone. I wouldn't do anything bad. I'd just explore the lawn, and perhaps wander through the nearby forest. I know they all think I'd try to escape, but I really wouldn't. I'm smart enough to know that there's nowhere for me to go even if I do get out of here. I can't go home, and I can't support myself. If anyone recognized me, there'd be a lynch mob. No, escape would be suicidal. I need to stay here, and hopefully I'll eventually get better. I glance over at Nurse Perry and see that she's busy with another patient, so I carefully take the three pills out of my mouth and examine them. They look toxic, and I can't imagine what they do to my mind and body. I'd rather not take them.

  "Give me that," says a voice nearby. I look over and see a small bald man staring at me from the sofa. I try to ignore him, but even as I look out the window I can tell that he's still got his eyes trained on me. "Give me that," he says again.

  Realizing that he might draw attention to me, I walk over and give him the three little pills, which he quickly swallows.

  "Good luck," I say, turning and walking to the large patio doors. I try the handle, hoping that I might be able to get out into the garden. I mean, eventually someone has to accidentally forget to lock up, and I'm sure I could slip out unnoticed. Nurse Perry's usually distracted by the other patients, so I doubt I'd be missed, not for a while at least. And then I could be free for a few hours. Unfortunately, the doors are locked once again.

  "The key's in Nurse Perry's desk," says a male voice from behind me.

  "I know," I say.

  "She won't give it to you. She's a fucking bitch".

  "I know," I say, turning and -

  I pause.

  There's no-one there. I turn all the way around. The closest person to me is the bald guy, and he's sitting a few meters away. It definitely wasn't his voice. The voice was close, as if someone was almost leaning over my shoulder. As I feel a cold chill come over my body, I realize I've heard the voice before. It's the same voice that was in my head back when I was still living at home; it's the same voice that told me to shoot my brother in the face.

  "You need me," the voice says.

  I swallow hard. If I start talking to the voice, other people will notice and then they'll think I'm even more insane. The doctors and nurses think that the voice is permanently gone, that their treatment is starting to work, but I always knew that the voice's silence was nothing to do with the treatment. The voice spoke to me before because it had a job for me to do: it wanted me to kill my brother. It spent a long time persuading me that my task was important, gradually changing my initial revulsion and horror into a kind of understanding. Once I fired that shot into my brother's head, the voice left me. I assumed that it would never return, but now here it is and there's only one conclusion: it wants something from me again. It wants... I don't know what it wants, but it wants something. It'll let me know, in time.

  "Do you still trust me?" the voice asks.

  "Mmm," I say quietly, under my breath. I don't want to be rude and ignore the voice, but at the same time I don't want anyone to realize that I'm still hearing it.

  "What's wrong?" it asks. "Are you embarrassed by me?"

  I look over at Nurse Perry and see that she's busy talking to another nurse.

  "It's okay," the voice says. "I understand. You're playing it safe. You're being smart. That's good. That's how it should be. Just so long as you remember". There's a pause. "You do remember, don't you?"

  I take a deep breath.

  "Nod if you remember," the voice continues, "and shake your head if you don't. Be subtle. Don't let them see, but I need to know".

  I nod.

  "Good girl," the voice says. "You remember who I am".

  I nod again. This time, I catch Nurse Perry's eye, and I can see that she's noticed me. Damn it, I hope she doesn't realize that something's wrong. I turn back to look out the window, listening in case I hear her come over to check on me.

  "You like Nurse Perry, don't you?" the voice says. "Even though she's one of them".

  The garden looks so beautiful. The sun is shining and there's not a cloud in the sky.

  "You know she wants you," the voice continues. "She
's a lesbian. She wants to fuck you. She's playing it cool, but sooner or later she's going to force herself on you. Is that what you want?" Another pause. "Is it?"

  I shake my head.

  "Do you want to feel her tongue in your pussy?"

  I shake my head again.

  "Then what are you going to do about it?" the voice asks. "It's alright for you to stand here, telling me you don't want it. But if you don't do anything to stop her, you might as well open your legs and invite her in. Is that what you want? Are you sure you're not secretly hoping she'll do these things to you?"

  I shake my head.

  "Annie?" asks Nurse Perry, suddenly close behind me. I turn to find that she's come over to check on me. There's a concerned look on her face. "Is anything wrong?"

  I shake my head. "No," I say.

  "You took your pills, didn't you?" she says. She definitely knows that something's not right.

  I nod.

  "It's very important that you take your pills every day," she continues, lecturing me like I'm some kind of child. "If they weren't vital, you wouldn't be given them. Do you understand, Annie?"

  "Yes," I say. "I took them".

  Suddenly there's a scream from over on the sofa, and the little bald guy struggles to his feet as a kind of white foam flows out of his mouth. His eyes are bloodshot red and he seems unable to keep his balance, stumbling toward us.

  "Alfred," Nurse Perry says, rushing over to support him. "Wait, come and sit down". She reaches over and hits the alarm bell on the wall. "Alfred, it's going to be okay," she insists as she gets him to sit on a chair by the wall. "Alfred, can you hear me?"

  Alfred looks up at her for a moment, and then he starts vomiting pure, dark red blood all over her uniform. Over on the other side of the room, two other nurses rush in and immediately come to help.

  "He was fine a minute ago," Nurse Perry tells him as they help Alfred to his feet. "He was normal, and then he screamed and this started to happen".

  "Come on, Alfred," one of the other nurses says as she escorts him out of the room, holding him up so that he doesn't collapse. Nurse Perry hurries to the door with them, and then watches as they head down the corridor. When she turns back to look around the room, I can see the look of panic on her face.

  "Your pills did that," the voice says. "They made him sick. They're chewing up his guts, reacting with his other medication. He'll be dead in eleven minutes. If he's not, feel free to ignore me and assume I'm a figment of your imagination. But I'm not. Eleven minutes. Don't worry, they won't be able to trace it back to you, I've made sure of that".

  I wander over toward the door, loitering by the little bookcase that most people usually ignore. I can tell that Nurse Perry is watching me intently, and she clearly knows that something's not right. Still, I guess she's in shock and she doesn't want to stir up trouble unnecessarily, so she leaves me alone as I try to look casual. Picking up some old comic books, I leaf through them for a few minutes, keeping an eye on the clock above the door. Five minutes pass, then five more. Then, when eleven minutes have passed, I hear voices down at the other end of the corridor. I can't hear what they're saying, but it sounds like they're urgently discussing something. Then there are footsteps, getting closer, and one of the other nurses comes into the room. He walks over to Nurse Perry and they talk about something for a moment, and this time I overhear them discussing the fact that Alfred has just died.

  "Consider this a demonstration of my powers," the voice says. "Crows are coming home to roost. Someone else is going to die soon, but they might need a little help to see them on their way. But don't worry, it's all part of my plan".

  I stare at Nurse Perry, and I can see that she's genuinely upset by the news of Alfred's death. The other nurse leaves the room, and I watch Nurse Perry taking a deep breath as she goes to help another patient. I kind of respect how she's carrying on with her work despite the fact that a patient just died in her care. I guess patients die fairly often around here.

  "Who?" I whisper. "Who has to die?"

  "Who do you think?" the voice says. "That fucking bitch who just let Alfred die. You're going to have to kill Nurse Perry for me. Tonight".

  Nurse Winter

  Middlebridge College. 1998

  "Crows are hopeful creatures," says Adam, standing at the front of the classroom. "They seize every opportunity that's presented to them, without fail. But ultimately, they're also very loyal. Not just loyal to one another, but also to places". He pauses, staring at us all. "When crows come home to roost, it means that the day is done and night is coming. In some cultures, this is seen as a very bad sign. It portends death and disease. In other cultures, however, the presence of crows is seen as a good thing. So crows are complex creatures, and it's wise for everyone to pay attention to them". He pauses, checking his watch. "There's ten minutes left to go, but I think maybe this class is over for today. I'm gonna let you all go early".

  As we start packing up, my friend Rachel leans over and whispers to me. "Bar," she says.

  I smile. "Library first," I say.

  "Boring," she replies. "See you in the bar".

  We head toward the door, but I see Adam staring at me and I glance in his direction. Big mistake.

  "Miss Winter," he says, "can I get a word?"

  I tell Rachel to go on without me, and I walk over to Adam's desk. Although he's one of the senior lecturers on my nursing course, he's not much older than me and he has a piercing stare that - if I'm honest - always makes me kind of uncomfortable. Every so often, we'll be in a class and I'll get the feeling that he's staring at me; for that reason, I've usually been careful to avoid being alone with him, but now I find myself standing by his desk as the last of my fellow students leaves the room.

  "You okay?" he asks, eying me with a curious expression. It's as if his brain is whirring, trying to figure me out.

  "Of course," I reply, trying to say whatever he wants to hear. I just want to get a good grade and get out of here. To be honest, Adam's lectures aren't really very good. He's supposed to be teaching us about the history of medicine, but he spends most of his time rambling on about different topics, going off on tangents. It's kind of frustrating to haul myself out of bed at 7am every Monday morning just to hear Adam's latest meandering discourses.

  "I worry about you," he says. "I look across the classroom, and you stand out. Do you want to know why?"

  "Sure," I say. I really don't want to know, but I figure he's going to tell me anyway so I might as well feign some level of interest.

  "I don't see you as a nurse," he continues. "Does that surprise you?" He pauses, waiting for me to say something, but there's nothing I feel I can add to the conversation at this point. "You just don't strike me as that kind of person," he says. "Don't be offended. Everyone has strengths and weaknesses, and it's my opinion that the stronger your strengths, the less easily you're able to bend to perform other tasks. Does that make sense to you, Kirsten?"

  I nod. Why can't he just shut up? If he doesn't see me as a nurse, that's his choice, but I really wish he wouldn't blather on about it.

  "Is this honestly what you want to be?" he asks.

  I take a deep breath. "Is there anything in particular that you wanted to speak to me about?" I ask, trying to get him to either come to the point or let me leave.

  He smiles, opening his desk drawer and pulling out some kind of brochure. "You graduate in a few months. I can't see you going to work in a normal hospital, not at all. But there's one place where I think you'd fit right in". He passes the brochure to me. "You ever heard of Lakehurst?"

  I look at the photo on the cover. Lakehurst appears to be quite an old building, out in the countryside. I think I might have heard of it, though I'm not sure how.

  "It's a psychiatric hospital," Adam continues. "It's quite unusual in many respects. The treatment regimen that they impose on their patients can be controversial. A role at Lakehurst certainly isn't for everyone. In fact, for the rest of the class, I'd
explicitly recommend against going anywhere near the place, but for someone like you, I think it could be a good fit".

  "Someone like me?" I ask.

  He laughs. "Someone who sees things differently. Someone who understands that, well... Put it like this. A straight line is certainly the quickest way from one point to another, but it's rarely the most interesting. The same is true of all things in life. All journeys. If you go to an ordinary hospital, you'll get so bored, you'll probably end up killing someone. But if you go to Lakehurst, I think the place might keep you on your toes. There's a weird energy there. Having you heard of Dr. Campbell?"

  "I don't believe so," I say.

  "He's in charge of the place. He's a good man and I think he'd appreciate a girl like you. Just the other day, he was on the phone, complaining to me that he can't find the right staff". He pauses. "I think you'd be the perfect person to send up there. The money's good, the working conditions are more than adequate, and there's a chance to be a part of something important. What do you say? Should I tell him you're interested?"

  "Maybe," I say, looking at the brochure. All I care about is that I find a job after I graduate, and this Lakehurst place would be as good as anywhere. In fact, it might even be ideal, since I've been hoping to make a fresh start somewhere else. My reputation around Middlebridge College is pretty tawdry, and I'd like to go to a place where the name Kirsten Winter isn't synonymous with words like slut and whore.

  "Think it over," Adam says. "I can put in a good word. The job's pretty much guaranteed for you, if you decide you want it".

  "That's very kind of you," I mutter.

  He smiles. "I'm sure you can think of a way to repay me," he says, and it's clear that he has something in mind. It doesn't take a genius to realize what that 'something' might be.