Forsaken Dreamscape (Nevermor)

by Lenore, Lani

  Adele was of the sort that needed constant attention, and when she’d chosen a target, she would not relent until she got the acknowledgment she desired. She often added the other patients’ problems to her own just for sport, and was an annoyance to most who dealt with her.

  Seeing that she was being focused on, Wren tried to appease the girl with a short smile before averting her eyes, but she had known it would not work to send Adele away.

  “You talk to the fairies,” Adele said, chirping as happily as the birds. “I saw a fairy.”

  Wren didn’t respond, unsure how she felt about the comment. She had already talked about this once today for the sake of appearances, and she didn’t want to go into it again, yet Adele kept staring at her relentlessly with large, hollow eyes.

  “It was in my room, the fairy was,” Adele went on, nodding furiously to confirm her tale. “It was black like a shadow, but it wasn’t. It moved on its own. It was a boy!”

  She giggled deliriously at that, covering her mouth and looking about to see if a nurse had heard her, but Wren only wanted to tell her that it wasn’t a fairy she had seen. She wanted to turn her face away and ignore the other girl, annoyed that she was being mocked.

  But wait… A shadow? A boy? Could Adele’s conversation be more than a cry for attention? If she did see what she claimed, then…

  “What did it look like exactly?” Wren asked lowly. Adele seemed nearly overwhelmed to have gotten a reaction. She was positively quivering with excitement.

  “It was a boy,” Adele confirmed again, sticking a finger in her ear absently. “He was hovering over my bed. I watched him for a long time, but he didn’t move much. Eventually, he went away.”

  Wren rose up, interested now. She moved closer to Adele, lowering her voice to a whisper in hopes that the nurses would not hear their conversation.

  “And it was like a shadow?” Wren asked quietly, her heart beating faster. “Did he say anything to you – this fairy?”

  “No,” Adele said hesitantly, ashamed that she had to admit it, but she perked up again directly after, “but it did remind me of my dream!”

  Wren felt her face grow hot, wondering what had brought on the flare until she realized that she was feeling the heat of jealousy. Did this girl deserve to dream more than she did? Was it possible that Adele had seen Nevermor when Wren could not find it?

  “What dream?” she asked firmly, trying to keep her focus on the girl’s darting eyes.

  Adele’s face lit with pleasure. “I saw an ocean – it was a black ocean! – and I was walking along the shore. I was alone, but then I saw someone and I went toward him…”

  Adele hesitated, looking past Wren as a distant look came into her eyes. Her chest began to heave with short, rapid breaths as she recalled it.

  “He looked at me,” she said, shuddering. “His eyes were on fire! They were on fire!”

  The girl had become irate, a look of horror in her eyes as she professed this truth. Before Wren could step away, Adele had gripped her arms, shaking her as if to punish her lack of understanding.

  “Burning!” she screamed, her eyes like deep pools. “They were burning!”

  Wren tried to push Adele away from her, but the girl’s grip was viselike, her jagged nails scraping her flesh. She did not find relief until a nurse and orderly came forward, taking the girl by the arms, talking her down. Their voices managed to soothe her enough that Adele simply reverted to a state of bewilderment, as if she’d not remembered her outburst. Wren, however, wanted no part of it.

  She slipped away behind the cage, waiting for her heart to slow as Adele was led back to her cell. What the girl had said troubled Wren more than the violent outburst. Had she truly seen a shadow that was not attached to anything? Was it the truth, or could she cast it off as the ranting of a lunatic? Sadly, there was no way to know. There never was here, but today Wren was left with a feeling that she’d never been willing to accommodate before.

  Is that what I sound like to them? she wondered.

  Everything she thought she had known about her life came back to her now and settled in her stomach, making her feel sick. Around her, the birds continued to chirp, their lives undisturbed by the incident. They were without care or concern. Wren envied them.

  2

  The hours passed, and another day had managed to age her. Wren lay in the asylum bed, eyes closed but not asleep, yet to anyone who might pass by, not awake. She was covered up to her chin with the thin, dingy blankets, but she was far from restful. This day had opened up a familiar door in her mind, and she had foolishly stepped through it. Her head was flooded with memories of the past – of Nevermor.

  The ocean and the beach; the way the forest had smelled in the morning; the dreams that formed the land and the nightmares that threatened it. She thought of dances by firelight as the boys ran wild, drunk off their kills, their faces painted with blood. They had all seemed so happy with that life. Wren had been disapproving of some of their behaviors – the cursing and the blood rituals – but she would give anything to have that back now.

  Rifter realized that there was more to life than being young and reckless forever. He was ready to change. But how much can I expect? Will he think I’ve outgrown him? It’s been four years…

  “Are you awake?” The ghostly whisper slipped to her through the dark, clenching her heart and making her shiver. Wren came back to herself to see a deep shadow treading over the stone floor, moving closer to her bed.

  Who’s there?

  She was startled, uncertain for a moment before she recognized the voice coming from within the dark shape.

  “I saw the fairy again.”

  Adele. Wren could not see the girl’s features in the darkness, but her height and outline revealed her identity. Even knowing who it was, Wren could think of a few things less unsettling than waking up to another inmate standing over her bed.

  “How did you get into my room?” she asked cautiously.

  “I stole the nurse’s key,” Adele said happily, holding up the dangling piece of metal on a chain. “Come on! It’ll get away!”

  Adele darted back toward the hallway where the door was standing open, unlocked, and by the time Wren was able to rise up after her, the girl had already slipped out.

  “Wait!” Wren hissed, stepping into her slippers. Though she had an opportunity to leave her cell unrestricted, her fear of being caught was very real. While here, she had tried her best to stay in line, but she was not oblivious to the punishments that might have awaited her. She knew what happened to girls who were unruly.

  But the shadow. I have to know. That was all the persuasion she needed to follow Adele out.

  By the time she had gotten into the hallway, the other girl had already slipped out of sight. Wren did not have much time to be cautious. She moved swiftly into the darkened hall.

  The unmapped corridors of the female ward were frightening in the dark, the bowels of a beast that had swallowed her. Wren had never been out alone and the cage which housed her was suddenly much too big. Her breathing quickened. She felt faint.

  Just take a deep breath. She followed her own direction. Be calm and do what you must do.

  At that, she was able to take a few steps forward. She needed to see what Adele had to show her – to judge it for what it was. Perhaps it was a figment of the girl’s imagination, but there was a possibility that it might have been more.

  “This way!” Adele’s whispery voice drifted to her from around the corner, sounding like an omen, but Wren could not turn away.

  She crouched low, hoping that she wouldn’t be seen by any of the other patients as she passed. There were small windows in the doors, and some of the girls were very much like her: they never slept. Even now she could hear some of them groaning, muttering to themselves as they paced. Wren was unsure of her performance, but she kept herself down and moved forward, her pale gown clinging to her legs.

  Following after Adele, Wren left the ward and passed
into another part of the building, where she began to feel even more nervous. There were voices ahead that made Wren want to turn around, but they managed to find a clear path around a pair of orderlies who were busy making lewd jokes and laughing heartily. Her heart thudded until the voices slipped behind her.

  Edging around the corner, she saw Adele moving forward. Wren knew these hallways well, and she knew where they led, for she was guided along this way several times a week.

  Witherspoon’s office…

  “Are you certain that the fairy went this way?” Wren asked, using terms Adele had related. “I’m not sure if this is a good idea.”

  Wren began to suspect that this was not about the shadow any longer, but merely Adele’s private excursion. She did not want any part of that, but her neurotic companion would not back down.

  “Do you want to see it or not?”

  Adele disregarded her then, moving to the door – behind which Wren had emptied most of her secrets and memories – turning the key in the lock. The hinges groaned as it opened to reveal the smallest glow from a gaslight, lit and waiting for someone to come in and give it more life. Wren took in a shaky sigh and followed Adele inside, preferring that to being caught in the hallway when a watchman came by.

  The office was just as she had seen earlier, only darker, with the windows hidden by curtains, but it seemed unforgiving now, like a funeral parlor. The walls of this box did not care about her fears or her crimes. This was the end of the line.

  “Do you see it anywhere?” Adele whispered. Wren had already been looking tentatively around the room, searching for any sign of dark movement, but nothing seemed out of place.

  “I’ve never been in this office at night,” Adele said rapidly, rubbing her feet along the carpet in long strides. She was clearly thrilled beyond measure. “Do you think he’s handsome? Dr. Witherspoon, I mean. I told him once that he had a nice smile, and he ignored me! I wonder if he’s married…”

  Adele went on, but Wren was no longer listening. She had not seen any suspicious shadows, and she had begun to suspect that this was all a waste of time. She would be happier back in her cell, reconsidering her misfortune.

  What’s that?

  Adele was chirping on in the background, touching everything that was not locked away as if they were on holiday instead of trespassing. As Wren stepped near the desk, she saw that among the many books piled near the edges, there was a lone journal resting there. It was not difficult for her to recognize the worn edges and the scribbled writing on the cover.

  It was her own casebook. Witherspoon had left it out after their session that day, perhaps.

  What does he think of me? she wondered now, touching the rough face of the book.

  She’d always believed that she had never wanted to know what the doctor wrote about her – that it didn’t matter – but as she looked down at the journal now, the temptation was too much. Without more thought, Wren was lifting the cover, turning through the pages of notes about her stories and her supposed condition. The words of his judgment cut across her vision.

  Delusional…withdrawn…often catatonic…obsessive… In denial; fails to acknowledge her crime, but continues to tell her story consistently…

  Wren turned to the last written page – his thoughts after today’s meeting.

  In the years she has been here, she has never acted violently, but I find myself growing tired of the same stories. There has been no progress in my time with her. I have already been considering more extreme measures, and now I believe that I must go forward. Something must be done to free her from her dream world. She has to be woken up.

  Wren’s fingers grew weak. The casebook slipped from her hands and closed on the desk. Extreme measures? What did that mean? The possibility of undesirable treatment rolled past her mind. Hydrotherapy, please not that… Did Witherspoon truly think her case deserved worse? More importantly, was the threat of this worth breaking away from her story? Would the punishment on the other side of committing murder be worse?

  Wren was jolted, barely able to realize that her breath was coming in shallow gasps, making her feel lightheaded. She had completely forgotten about Adele’s fairy until a darkness passed in front of the gaslight, leading Wren to jerk her head up.

  Her first fear was that they had been caught. She would be confined to a tiny prison as punishment before finding out the truth of her ‘extreme measures’.

  “Did you see it?” Adele whispered excitedly. “The fairy! I told you!”

  Wren tried to follow the movement with her eyes, but it was only a flicker across the stone wall. The shape was indistinguishable, but there had been movement, undeniably. Something had been there!

  “I think it went out!” Adele twittered. “Come on!”

  Adele had darted back into the hallway before Wren could raise her voice in protest. Didn’t the girl know that they had to be careful of the orderlies and night nurses? And to be dealing with a mimic… That was not to be taken lightly.

  Wren took the time to peer beyond the door briefly before moving out herself. Adele was already near the end of the corridor, moving at a full run to round the corner.

  “Adele, wait!” Her call fell on deaf ears.

  Her panic increasing, Wren quickly closed the door of Witherspoon’s office to give the illusion that it was undisturbed. Adele had vanished before Wren had picked up her feet to follow. Her heart was pounding against her chest with heavy punches, knocking the breath from her lungs. Her thoughts were meshed together in a sick scramble as she rounded the corner–

  There was a shriek. A groan. A resounding thud and then a sigh of silence. Wren slowed her footsteps, listening to the sounds of her own fear. She wanted to call out for Adele but could not find her voice.

  You should turn around. Turn around, go back to your cell and lock yourself in!

  Instead, she crept forward. Wren made it to the corner to peer carefully beyond, and gasped when she saw the heap in the middle of the hallway. The folds of Adele’s gown were swimming in the dim firelight, but her body was still.

  “Adele?” Wren had heard nothing; she’d seen even less, yet here was her companion crumpled on the floor, unmoving.

  What happened!

  Wren ran to her, pulse pounding in her ears. She stooped low to pull the girl up, but Adele was dead weight in her arms. Wren gave her a shake, but did not even notice the warm red substance spreading over her fingers.

  “Adele, wake up!” Wren urged, fearing the consequences – always those – but she didn’t get a chance to search for wounds before a sudden chill locked her muscles.

  Someone is behind me…

  She could feel a heavy presence looming over her shoulder, staring her down, coming closer –

  Wren whipped her head around to face her stalker as a flood of lamplight spilled around the corner, illuminating her where she was crouched.

  “There they are,” she heard a voice say. “They didn’t get far.”

  Beyond the light were several shadowy figures, but she did not fear that these were additional mimics come to aid their brother. No, these figures were her salvation and her condemnation.

  “Wait,” came a hesitant voice from within the group. “Is that blood?”

  “Stay back, Janette. Let’s have a look at what’s happened…”

  Wren looked down at the situation she was in. She imagined the faces behind the lamps, looking at her like she had finally revealed her true nature – unleashed the twisted monster within that she had been covering with a melancholy face. Adele had been hurt – somehow – and Wren was the only one around.

  They will blame me for this. They already have.

  There was no way to correct this – no way out. Wren sat docilely on the floor as the orderlies came to collect her. Surrounding her in the hall, their shadows laughed.

  Chapter Three

  1

  Witherspoon was pacing – pacing like a lion at the forefront of its cage, anxious and frustrated b
ecause, very much like a wildcat in a circus, he was caught. Wren had told him what had happened – the truth and not a lie – though doubtless he thought differently about the ordeal. She could tell that he was not pleased, but he had not said much to her through it all, now stuck in his own mind as he considered her tale.

  Wren sat meekly in front of his desk, fearing what sort of judgment he might pass down on her until she could no longer bear the silence.

  “Is Adele – I mean, is she alright?”

  The sound of her voice seemed to startle him. He met her eyes as if surprised to find her in the room.

  “She has a few cuts, but yes, she will be fine.” He considered her a moment before continuing. “Wren, are you certain that it happened as you said? Try to think clearly, now.”

  She had told him everything exactly as it had happened – of how Adele had stolen the key and they had gone seeking a shadow that was not attached to anyone; and of how Adele had been mysteriously attacked. Wren had told him how it had happened and yet he was waiting for her to tell him something different. She felt discouraged, though not out of guilt for lying, but for the burden of the truth.

  “I told you everything,” she confirmed. The words were thick in her mouth, like old porridge.

  Once again, Witherspoon went back to his pacing until finally he’d suffered enough. He turned to her, eyes full of new vigor – or a last desperate hope.

  “Wren, can we talk frankly a moment?” he asked, crossing his arms. He didn’t wait for her to answer before he began. “When I first chose you and kept you from being sent away, it was because I saw something in you – a potential for improvement – but as many times as we've spoken, you still refuse to realize the truth. You seem so lucid, very unlike the others, and yet you refuse to see what I've been trying to show you. I'm going to try another tactic this time, Wren. I'm going to tell you the truth very bluntly.”