Escapees and Fevered Minds

by David Owain Hughes

  “Just spill!” Norm said.

  “Yes, I agree!” said Mr. Tickles.

  “Hang on!” she said. “I need to say something to my sister first.” Looking at Sam, Crystal felt tears building in her eyes as her sister looked away from her. All the other guests looked at Crystal as she stood. “Sam, I have so much to say to you…”

  “I wouldn’t bother if I was you!” Sam said. “You’ll put me off my food.”

  “You may not want to listen, but I’m going to tell you anyway.”

  “Just say what you have to say, so we can all find out what’s going on and then go our separate ways!”

  “Huh,” Crystal sighed. “I want to make a confession.”

  “Bitch, be quiet – you have no idea—”

  “Harry, love, I have to do this. The guilt has been weighing me down for far too many years. I thought I could cope with it all, but not any longer. All the running we have been doing, all the lies, all the killing, all the pretence of being an act…I can’t take the strain,” she said, tears running down her face.

  “Crystal!” Harry bellowed. “I can’t believe you are acting like this!”

  “Shh, Harry,” she said, stroking his face lovingly. “It’s true, you know – you are the best thing that ever happened to me. I love you, but I need to get this weight off my chest.”

  Sam turned her head and looked at her sister – their eyes fused. “Just say what you have to,” she said.

  Crystal nodded. “My sister is innocent of her crimes. It was me who committed the murders.”

  “What murders are you talking about?” Mr. Tickles asked.

  “My parents – I killed them, and blamed it all on her. I’ve regretted it for years, and I’m truly sorry, Sam.” More tears rolled down Crystal’s face. “I know you’ll never be able to forgive me, and I know you want to take my life, but I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry. I’ve always loved my baby sister, and I’m deeply sorry for what I did to you…”

  Sam wiped a few loose tears from her face but said nothing.

  “And if I need to tell this all to the police, then I will – I won’t see you going back to that hospital, Sam.”

  “Why did you do it?!” Sam asked.

  “Because I was jealous of you – you had it all. You even had Mam and Dad’s approval of everything. They didn’t even want me going to drama school or anything – they had me trapped. I felt suffocated. They needed to be removed from my life, which Harry helped me to see. I saw you as my scapegoat, I’m sorry,” she said, wiping tears away. “That day at the hospital, I planned to break you out…”

  “What?!” Harry blurted. “I never knew that!”

  “No, because I knew you’d be mad. That’s why I wanted to go there that day, but you were so irate when you saw me, Sam, that I knew there was no way I could do it, and so I was forced to leave you there.”

  Sam stood there, her mouth open but no words coming out. “Did you plan to leave me there to rot?”

  “No, I would have come back for you, but the time had to be right. You have to believe me!” Crystal pleaded. “The last few days, all I’ve been able to think about is what I was going to say to you, and now it’s here, all I can really say is sorry. Sorry for the whole fucking mess I’ve caused, and sorry for killing your parents.”

  “You mean our parents?”

  “Biologically, yes, but they will never, ever be my parents. I swear I hated them from the moment I opened my eyes…”

  Sam sighed. “It’s all too much to take in, Crystal. You had me locked away for ten fucking years! Ten! I think it’s going to take more than a few choice words and some tears to make me come around, sorry.”

  “Will you try? After this, we could try to move on – you could come with Harry and me?”

  “Hold the fuck on,” Harry said. “We’ve always been a double act, you know that!”

  “Don’t fret, Harry – I don’t think I’d be interested in tagging along!” Sam said, sitting down.

  “But…” Crystal said, wiping more tears away before giving up.

  The others looked at each other, unsure what to say.

  “What a lovely speech!” Wadsworth said, clapping his hands. “Do you have anything else to tell us, Crystal?”

  “Oh, er…Yes,” she said, sniffing. “I want to tell you all about the connection here,” she said. “Samantha, I know you were broken out of that hospital by the aid of Wadsworth. I also know that you were there Norm, along with Santa Klaws, who is Mr. Tickles’ brother. I also know you all, and what you’ve all done.”

  “How?” Norm said, slamming his hand down on the table as he stood up. His posh chair scraped along the uncarpeted flooring and toppled over.

  “Because Harry and I have read about you – we knew you all long before we met this evening.”

  “That’s not possible!” Norm said.

  “Oh, it is!”

  “How?!”

  “Because all our lives have been written in a book – a book that’s been made to look like a piece of fiction!”

  “But—” Norm started.

  “Fuck, now she’s done it!” Harry muttered.

  “What book?” someone called.

  “This one!” Wadsworth said, and threw a copy of White Walls and Straitjackets down onto the table.

  “It’s all true,” Mr. Tickles said. “I’ve also read it – my girls, too. And if you look in the back, your patient files are there!”

  Norm reached for it and thumbed through the tatty copy as the other guests spoke among themselves.

  Leaving the table, Crystal walked up to Wadsworth, who turned to face her. She kneed him in the balls and punched him in the face as he went down. “You piece of shit! Why would you write something like that – why?! Answer me, damn it!”

  Some of the others gasped as Crystal yelled at him.

  Wadsworth’s bulldogs were on her, their Glock 9mms pointed at her head.

  “No need for that!” he said, waving his men off. “Please…” he coughed…“Ugh…You’ve got…Ugh…” He wheezed as he tried to regain control over his breathing. “I think I’m going to be sick!” he said as Smiler helped his boss to his feet.

  “If you don’t start feeding us some answers, we’re going to cut you into tiny pieces,” she said, grabbing him by his bollocks. “And I’ll start by ripping these off!”

  “Remove your hand!” Smiler said. “Now!”

  Mr. Tickles stood up and grabbed a knife from off the table.

  “Sit,” the second guard told him, “or I’ll put a round through your fucking nose!”

  “You’ve got it wrong!” Wadsworth said, his voice going high as she released his balls.

  “What have I got wrong?!”

  “Phwoar!” Harry said. “This shit is making me hot!”

  “I…I…” Wadsworth said, clutching his aching privates.

  “Spit it out!” Crystal said.

  “Yes, out with it!” Mr. Tickles said as he sat back down.

  “We haven’t got all night!” Norm chirped.

  “I didn’t write the book, damn it!” Wadsworth said, straightening.

  “What?!” Crystal asked.

  “If you’ll allow me, please,” he said. “Your host can explain much more than I can.”

  “Well, where the fuck is he or she?” Mr. Tickles asked.

  “I shall go and get him,” Wadsworth said. Before excusing himself, he told his men to watch them closely and they did, with their guns un-holstered.

  Crystal remained where she was.

  “I say we make a run for it whilst he’s gone!” Norm said.

  “And what about those two, you flamin’ idiot?!”

  “No, no! We may as well see it out to the end,” Crystal said, and both Sideshows agreed. “I want to know what this fucking pantomime is all about!”

  “Yeah…” Mr. Tickles started, but a squeaking sound behind Crystal grabbed his attention – hers, too, as she turned to look out into the ha
ll.

  Heading towards Crystal was Wadsworth – he was pushing a wheelchair. The person in the seat had a bag over their head. As Wadsworth entered the plush-looking dining area, he announced, “And here is your host!” before whipping the bag off the person’s head.

  When the face was revealed, nobody said anything.

  “Who is he?” someone asked.

  Crystal couldn’t take her eyes off the large bearded man in the wheelchair. He wore glasses, which were misted over – his hair was long. His mouth had been gagged; she thought she knew him, yet had never met him.

  “Who are you?” she asked him.

  “Mmm-mmm!” he mouthed beneath the gag – he tried to move his hands and legs, but they were tied.

  “Allow me,” Wadsworth said, slipping the man’s gag down. “I had to restrain him – he’s most violent.”

  “Who the fuck are you?” Tickles asked the bound man, stepping closer.

  “Did you write this thing?” Norm asked, getting up from the seat and hitting the man around the face with the book.

  “Ah, you bastard!” the man said.

  “Fucking answer him!” Crystal screamed.

  They all crowded around the tied individual.

  “Yes! Yes, I wrote the damn thing!”

  “Who are you? How do you know so much about us?” Norm asked.

  “Some of you were in Castell Hirwaun with me – don’t you remember speaking to me? I guess the shock therapy can cause memory loss…”

  “You were in there?!” Crystal asked.

  “Yes,” he said, lowering his head.

  “What for?” Harry asked.

  “I had a problem with sex!” he answered.

  Crystal sniggered. “I didn’t know they put you away for such things, dear?!”

  Harry laughed.

  “Well, that explains their stories, but what about me? Where did you get your information?” Mr. Tickles questioned.

  “Your brother knows more than he is letting on. You’d be surprised what people say when they are drugged to their eyeballs!”

  “What’s your name?”

  “David,” Wheelchair-man said. “I won’t part with my surname – it’s not something any of you need to know.”

  “How did you know about Harry and me?” Crystal asked.

  “Through talking to your sister – when I heard about the killing of critics, I went back to Castell Hirwaun and spoke to Sam. Of course, she was half out of her mind on drugs and said you’d most probably committed the crimes. I didn’t intend to get anyone in trouble, I swear.”

  “Oh, is that right?” Mr. Tickles asked.

  “Yes, I swear! I’ve always liked writing, and so after leaving the hospital – semi-cured, I may add – I was told to find something to do. So I took up writing. I had plenty of ideas after meeting Norm, Sam and Santa Klaws.”

  “You fucking idiot!” Mr. Tickles said. “Couldn’t you have come up with something original? How clichéd – you wrote about an asylum and a bunch of lunatics. How original!”

  “I never proclaimed to be Stephen King, you know! I discovered a raw talent and put it to use.”

  “We could sue your arse!” Harry said.

  “Yes!” Norm agreed.

  “Look, I didn’t think the book would go anywhere! I showed it to a friend and the next thing I knew, it was printed!”

  “Why let that happen?!” Crystal asked.

  “The money, I guess. Not only that, I thought it would be pretty awesome to see something in print. Who wouldn’t?!”

  “Yeah, making money off the back of us, you bastard!” Norm said.

  “Calling me names isn’t going to help. Besides, I never knew you lot would cotton on – most of you were drugged up when I came into contact with you. I never thought you’d find out!”

  “Well, we did!” Norm said.

  “What in the fuck are we going to do with him?” Mr. Tickles asked Wadsworth.

  “Don’t ask me. I’m just the butler, sir.”

  “And what do you do, exactly?” Norm asked.

  “I buttle, sir.”

  “I’m sure your heavies could help us out!” Sam said, indicating the beefcakes.

  “Maybe, but as far as I see it, this is your problem, not mine. You can just wheel him out of here and do as you wish,” he said. “I’ve done my part.”

  “A fat lot of good you’ve been!” Sideshow Necrotic said.

  “We need to try and get those books recalled!” Crystal said.

  “I’m sure I could get that done, as long as you don’t hurt me,” David said. “Please, untie me!”

  “Can’t we have some fun with him?” Sideshow Necrotic said, sitting on his lap. “He seems up for a bit of fun!” Giggling, she gave David a slap across his face.

  “Do with him as you wish,” Wadsworth said. “I brought you all here to deal with him.”

  “Wait a minute!” Norm said. “How did you know about him?!”

  “Why, that’s simple – I own Castell Hirwaun. I know everything that goes on behind those walls. I have access to everything. A few years ago, I had all the rooms bugged, including the staff unit. I caught wind of this fella’s intention and kept tabs on him ever since.”

  “How very noble of you!” Norm said.

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “I was being—”

  “Never mind the jokes,” Mr. Tickles said. “There’s something else we’re forgetting here…”

  Five hard knocks at the font door caused a hush to fall over the guests.

  “Untie me!” David demanded. “I haven’t done anything wrong!”

  “Shh!” Crystal said.

  “We overlooked Klaws!” Wadsworth said, looking through the open dining room door and out into the hall.

  “Untie me, damn it!” David said. “I said I’d recall the books, what else do you want from me?!”

  “Shh!” Wadsworth said.

  Then there was silence, followed by another five hard knocks on the door, and then a faint “Ho-ho-ho.”

  “Well, we’ll have to let him in,” Mr. Tickles said. “You invited him, after all, Wadsworth – he should know what’s going on!”

  Wadsworth cleared his throat before speaking. “Olaf, go and see who’s at the door,” he told his non-scarred bodyguard.

  The man nodded, cocked his gun, and headed out the room.

  Everyone in the dining room listened.

  They firstly heard the clack of deadbolts, as the guard unlocked the main door, which was then followed by it being swiftly opened. “Are you—” the man said, but his words were cut short. A loud thunk and groan ensued, followed by a single gunshot.

  “What the hell?!” Crystal said.

  “Fuck! Untie me!” David said.

  Crystal moved away from the wheelchair and stood by Mr. Tickles. “That didn’t sound good!”

  “I agree.”

  “Rotwiler!” Wadsworth said. “Go and help Olaf.”

  “Come on, Angharad, we’re leaving.”

  “I’d advise you to stay with us,” Mr. Tickles said.

  The front door slammed shut, which echoed throughout the mansion. A squeaking sound followed.

  “What in fuck’s name?!” Harry said.

  “Untie me, damn it!” David said. “Please!”

  Crystal went to him and started to pick at the knots in the rope.

  The squeaking sound became louder, closer.

  Eeeeeeek-eeeeeeek

  “What is…?” Mr. Tickles started saying, then stopped.

  Crystal looked back at him. “What the..?!” she said, letting her words trail off, as she saw the butler making a run for it. “Stop!”

  “Sorry, but you’re all on your own!” he yelled back over his shoulder, laughing as he did so. In the distance, a couple of doors banged shut.

  “Shit, he’s gone!” Mr. Tickles said, stating the obvious before raising his hand slowly and pointing. “You may want to look out!” he said.

  Turning to fa
ce the open door, Crystal saw a huge man dressed in a black Santa uniform. He stalked towards her, dragging the remains of Olaf behind him. A fire axe was planted in the dead man’s head.

  “Stop!” Rotwiler ordered, aiming his gun at Klaws’ head as he walked towards the dinning room door.

  When the huge Father Christmas got to the door, with blood now visible in his beard, he shouted, “Ho-ho-ho!”’ and then threw the body of Olaf in Rotwiler’s direction. Olaf connected with the man and threw him off his feet. The gun slipped from his grip and slid under the table.

  “No!” Rotwiler yelled as he tried to get the weight of Olaf off him. “Help!”

  But all the others could do was get out of Klaws’ way as he walked up to the fallen bodyguard and stamped on his head repeatedly. “Naughty, naughty, naughty, naughty…” He grunted over and over as he did so, until there was nothing but a lump of mush on the floor.

  “Please. Help!” David said, managing to rip one hand free of the wheelchair.

  Crystal moved clear and grabbed Harry. “We need to get out of here!” she said.

  “I agree! Fuck everything else – this party’s gone tits up!” Harry said.

  Turning, Crystal saw Sideshow Necrotic and Nightshade lunge for Santa. Necrotic ended up caught in a bear hug. In one vicious squeeze, Santa broke her back and threw her to one side.

  When she hit the floor, she didn’t move.

  “Nooooooooo!” Mr. Tickles yelled.

  Before he could go for his brother, Crystal grabbed him by the arm. “We have to get the hell out of here. Now!”

  Nodding, he let go of Nightshade’s chain as she tore and bit Klaws.

  “Shit!” Norm said, and ran for Angharad.

  “Let’s get the fuck out of here!” Harry said. “Out the window.”

  “Argh!” someone screamed.

  Looking back, Crystal saw Klaws break Nightshade’s neck before putting his massive hands either side of the writer’s head – he tried crushing it like a grape, but somehow the writer managed to break free and dove under the table for the gun.

  “Move!” Crystal screamed, watching Klaws close in on the writer as he scrabbled about for the gun – chairs were knocked over as he crawled.

  As David got a hand to the weapon, Klaws dragged him from under the table and threw him against a wall. Paintings fell as the author crashed to the floor; blood trickled out of his mouth as he raised the gun and fired.