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The Redwood Asylum: A Paranormal Horror

Page 14

by L. A. Detwiler


  “Little Blue. You killed him and threw him in the lake, didn’t you? Didn’t you?”

  I didn’t understand where the field of cats came in, but at least if I knew the answer to one of the riddles, perhaps at least I’d know there was a method to the madness.

  To my surprise, he answered me.

  His eyes lasered into mine. “Of course I did. Of course. Little Blue says thank you. He says thank you for finding him. Cattie nine tails. They were his favorite. He’s been waiting a long time, Jessica. A long, long time.”

  I exhaled. “Thank you,” I whispered, scolding myself for thanking a killer but relieved to know the riddles, the pictures. They all did add up if I could just solve them. They all added up. There was a science to the madness. But how would I get the police to believe me?

  I was risking it all now, though, by staying too long. I needed to slip out. I had the information I needed. If the police could find the first body, they would know I wasn’t simply crazy. They would believe me and, with their expertise, we could certainly find the others. We could give their families peace, and we could all go back to the quiet lives we led.

  I shuddered, realizing that it wasn’t always that easy for everyone. I realized what danger I was putting myself in even going to the police. But that was so far away, long enough ago that there would be no connection. I was safe. I walked toward the door but paused before opening it. I needed to check. Because what if I was worried for nothing? What if my mind was just playing horrible tricks and she was his?

  “What about yellow? Why don’t you draw her ever?”

  “You know why, Jessica,” he said, grinning as he shook his head as if scolding a belligerent child.

  I took a deep breath in, waiting to hear the words I knew were coming.

  “She’s not mine. She’s not even the asylum’s. She’s yours. All yours. It’s why we knew you could help us.”

  I nodded softly so that I did not crumple to the floor, locking myself in with 5B and letting the asylum swallow me. But I wanted to in that moment. Oh, did I want to succumb to it all right there on the floor of room 5B.

  “Hurry, Jessica. Soon, it’s my turn to go. I know it’ll be my turn. And I want to leave the kids here.”

  I looked at him, confused. What was he talking about? Still, I felt the pressure of getting to the bottom of it all. There was no time, though. I took one last look at him, his eyes darting up and down my body. I nodded again, a tear falling as I turned to walk away.

  I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I chanted in my head as I made my getaway, down the stairs and back through the now lighter forest. I avoided the tree where Brown had found me. Still, I wasn’t thinking about myself or the kids or anything but her.

  I’m so sorry, darling. I’m so sorry.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Iknow what it sounds like,” I murmured from the padded chair across the desk from the officer. He was a young man, presumably younger than me judging by his semi-cocky grin and his angular jaw. He took notes as I finished up the story, eyeing the drawings I’d spread out meticulously before he eyed me warily.

  It had been a terrible idea to come. I knew it from the second I left Redwood and found myself pulling into the Oakwood Police Department. My hair was a frizzy mess, I had bags under my eyes, and my hands were still trembling from all that had happened. I hadn’t slept in a day—although more like three weeks considering my visitors.

  I’d told him the story of 5B—the parts I could without sounding insane. I’d mentioned the drawings, the discussions, the connection to the Ambridge Farm. I’d listed out the riddles, talked about what I thought they could mean. I, of course, left out the haunting spirits of the children and the ghostly encounters.

  “And you say no one else at the asylum has connected these dots?”

  “I don’t think anyone is looking, to be honest. There are other worries at Redwood,” I uttered, eyeing him. I wondered if I could trust him. I had no choice, though. I was too far in.

  “What do you mean?” he asked, pausing from his notes to spin back and forth in his desk chair.

  I hesitated before continuing on. “I think there’s a lot going on at Redwood that they don’t want anyone to know.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Go on,” he encouraged, nodding. His gaze was glued to me. Encouraged by this sign, I decided to jump in.

  “For one, I think three are a lot of experimental treatments going on. 5B, for example. Mr. Essic. He didn’t start these drawings until after he was taken for an experimental shock treatment in the basement, according to the files that are stashed away. I don’t know for sure, but it seems to me like there are a lot of secretive medical treatments going on that they don’t want anyone to know about. I know at my last hospital, there were a lot of records, a lot of permissions granted for any treatment, let alone an experimental one. It seems to me like Mr. Essic got worse, not better, from the treatments.”

  “So couldn’t all of this be nonsense then? The rantings of a lunatic, the hallucinations of a man who is gone?” the officer asked. He softened after I glared at him.

  “I don’t think so.” I couldn’t tell him why, of course, I knew 5B wasn’t completely insane. I couldn’t tell him that if he was insane, so was I. I shuddered at the thought, turning my gaze from the officer to the window that was heavily covered in thick blinds. I sighed before continuing on.

  “I don’t think he’s making it up. There are too many connections. I mean, he worked at the Ambridge Farm. I know he was cleared, but maybe someone didn’t look hard enough, you know? I just think there are too many details to be a coincidence.”

  “Have you talked to your superiors at Redwood about this?” he probed, resuming his note taking.

  “No.” I turned to look back at him, my voice a hushed whisper. “I don’t trust them.”

  A raised eyebrow told me he didn’t trust me. I continued on.

  “I think there are other shady things happening at the asylum. I don’t know what, but, well, there have been several residents who have disappeared.”

  “As in gone missing?” Alarm rocked his voice.

  “No. I mean they move on to another place suddenly. They’re on the fifth floor one day and then poof, they’re gone. I suspect something else is at play. Anna, the head nurse, is very protective of the floor.”

  “I see,” he said, continuing to write. He put his pen down after a long moment. He stood and stretched, his hands in his back pockets. Then, he walked around the desk and crouched down near me. My heart started beating wildly. His eyes glared at me. I felt my chest heave. This had been a terrible idea. All the mistakes I’d made, all of the dirt from my past bubbled up to the surface so strongly, I was wickedly afraid that he could sense it, could see it written on my face.

  “So let me get this straight. You come to our town, a new employee. You spend a few weeks at Redwood getting to know a raving lunatic. You think that some crayon drawings he’s done are signs of where he’s buried the bodies of the children who you think plague him. You also think your new employer is up to shady business. You think they’re experimenting on people, and what, killing them? You do realize that Redwood has been around for almost two hundred years, right? That the Weathergate reputation is as engrained in this town as anything else? You know what you’re going up against, right?”

  “I do,” I whispered, trying to appear calmer than I was.

  He leaned in for a moment, and I was terrified of what he was going to say.

  And then, without warning, he rose to his feet, circled back around the desk. He did not look at me again, instead eyeing the notes.

  “Thank you for coming in. I’ll be sure the police chief gets these accusations, and we’ll get started on the investigation right away. The safety of Oakwood and Redwood are, of course, our priority.”

  His words sounded like a formal message recorded for the department. I waited for him to look at me, but instead, he turned to his computer. I saw myself o
ut of the office. I kept my head down as I walked to my car.

  Tears fell down my cheeks as I found my way to my seat and buckled up. I had done my part. I had done my best. I had given the information to the people who could decode it, who could find the kids’ bodies and give their families peace. I had saved 5B from a lifetime of hauntings, if all went well.

  But as I drove to the apartment for what I decided would be my last day in Oakwood, I wondered: Who was there to save me?

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  My back against the headboard, I stared into the open room. The sun was setting, the beams cascading through the dirty apartment window. I needed to sleep. I had a potentially long trip ahead of me, after all. My bags were packed. The essentials were stowed away in my car. It was time to once more get away—from the town, from all that had gone wrong, from my life in general.

  It was an exhausting prospect to start over. Where would I go this time? Who would I be? And most importantly, what relics of my past would follow me? I shuddered to think that the dead wouldn’t rest, at least one of the dead. I was terrified that I would get to the next town and see that horrific image in front of me when I least expected it. Perhaps I’d done enough, however. I’d helped bring the kids from 5B closer to peace. I’d helped bring him to peace, perhaps. And maybe I’d set right some of the wrongs behind the asylum walls. I had to hope for that at least.

  The riddles pounded into my head as I beckoned sleep to come my way. I knew where Blue was located. And Brown. But what about Red? And Pink? Their riddles jolted through my head, a sick song that did not lull me to sleep. I sat watch, expecting them to show up, to taunt me one last night. They didn’t.

  Maybe I’d done enough.

  My focus started to fade as I felt my head rest against the wall. My body started to slouch, and it seemed that I would succumb to sleep after all. I would sleep and then be on my way. I’d leave Redwood and its terrors in the past. I’d put the dead to rest, after all. Almost. Perhaps I could rejoin the land of the living.

  ***

  My body jerked. A pounding at the door sent terror through my body as it quickly stirred from sleep.

  “Police. Open up,” a deep voice bellowed. Police? What had happened?

  Confusion rocked by body, and then guilt. Fear. I glanced to the window. Could I make a run for it? Would I be able to get out in time?

  They must know. They must have figured it all out. Panic mixed with paranoia in an assaulting, toxic combination. I leaped from the bed, uncertain of how to proceed. I didn’t know if I should give in, or if I should fight for self-preservation. Even in the lowest of times, after all, the human spirit’s need for survival is strong.

  I didn’t have time to consider it, nonetheless. After calling out one more time, the door kicked in. The officers rushed in, yelling orders to me that I followed. When it comes down to it, I guess we’re all a little bit cowardly inside, even if we convince ourselves otherwise. Tears filled my eyes as the handcuffs slapped on. They led me out into the light of humiliation and fear and regret.

  They must have figured it out. They figured it all out.

  I’m sorry, I whispered into the backseat of the car. I’m so damn sorry.

  But when I glanced out the window through the tears, shock ripped once more at my veins, at my chest. We weren’t heading toward the police station, after all. The officer who I had talked to earlier in the day, the one who had burst into my apartment, sped forward, down the road in the opposite direction. Beside him, his dark-haired companion sat stoic and silent. His head faced forward, his eyes on the road as if he were driving. I leaned my forehead against the window, looking out at the familiar sight.

  And wondering what the fuck we were doing there. Wondering if the real danger, the real terror was just about to begin.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  They led me through the back door and marched me upstairs. I told myself to stay calm. Certainly, this would all be straightened out. But as my jelly-like legs floundered on the stairs and the officer roughly shoved me upward, I knew things were far from okay.

  She waited for us at the top of the stairs, a sinister smirk on her face. The hallway seemed dimmer somehow, quieter. It felt empty for the first time since I’d been there, as if even the haunting spirits had vacated the floor.

  “This way,” she beckoned to the officers. As if I had a choice. I scanned the hallway for someone, anyone, who could help me.

  We got to the end of the hall of wing A. I had thought for some reason that I’d be heading to 5B. Suddenly, I realized I had wanted to be going there.

  They clicked the cell shut behind me as they shoved me on the cot. I realized too late that this had been where the janitor from floor two, Jack, had been. The key word was that he had been in the room. Where was he now? I didn’t have time to think.

  “Oh, Jessica. What are we going to do with you?” Anna began as she stalked toward me, the officers flanking her. I looked at each of them, too afraid to speak. Too afraid of what it all meant. “Didn’t I tell you to stay out of it?”

  “I was trying to help. 5B. He killed kids. I wanted them to find them, to bring peace.”

  Anne shook her head. “So you thought you’d involve the police? You thought you’d send them here? And what else did you think they’d find, Jessica? Officer McCandless here happened to tell us what you said. About your suspicions.”

  “I-I’m just worried. About the residents,” I stuttered, averting my eyes to the floor.

  She stepped forward and dug her fingernails into my cheek. I could feel the burning sensation, could feel blood trickling down.

  “You stupid girl. I thought you could follow orders. I saw obedience in you, loyalty. And now you’ve fucked it all up.”

  I screamed a little, turning to the officers after she let go. “Please, you have to believe me,” I said, eyeing the older officer. He looked at me and chuckled.

  “So naïve,” Anna said. “I told you.”

  I shook my head, studying them and trying to piece it together. Anna looked at me, walked over to the officer, and kissed him fervently.

  “It pays to have friends, or in this case, a husband, in the right place,” she whispered as she leaned on him. My stomach lurched. How had I been so foolish? So stupid. Of course. Of course.

  “I’m sorry. Please, just let me go. I don’t want any trouble.”

  “You don’t want any trouble? That’s all you’ve been here.” Anna rolled her eyes, and for the first time, I could see her for what she was.

  “But don’t you want to help their families find peace? If 5B killed those kids, shouldn’t someone know about it?”

  “And what, have the national media here when the story of a serial killer breaks? Have them digging into what happens here? We have a family legacy to protect.”

  I squinted again, mouth agape. “You’re . . .”

  “A Weathergate. Of course. So was my mother. Why do you think we work so hard here to protect the legacy of this place?”

  “And what legacy is that?” I spat, knowing I had little to lose.

  Anna bit her lip, walking over to me. She stalked across the floor, her gaze piercing into mine. “Money. Our reputation. Our opportunities. We don’t need someone like you ruining it.”

  “But what about the people who disappear? Where do you send them?” I asked, puzzle pieces falling into place. I was enraged at myself for not seeing it all sooner.

  “Well, there are plenty of people who pay good money to work with a troubled mind. Scientists on the cutting edge of treatments and discoveries. I like to think Redwood is helping with medicine in a modern approach. Francis Weathergate created this place as a haven for lost minds. We’re just keeping the legacy going, but we’re helping science. Helping to find the cure.”

  “And making money by selling innocent people,” I spewed, hatred growing in my voice. I thought of all the poor souls, all the ones I thought were crazy. I thought of the spirits haunting the halls, t
he hallowed ground that felt vile somehow. It was adding up. Redwood wasn’t just a place of torture. It was a place to get lost, a place to disappear.

  “We only sell the ones no one will miss. We have a reputation to uphold, after all. There are plenty of wealthy customers who pay for their loved ones to be here. But some, the really troubled or the special cases, well, there’s no one to miss them. We might as well make some profit and help science. It’s a win-win.”

  “How do you get away with it all?” I asked, emboldened. “Aren’t some of the residents from the state?”

  “How do you think we make it work? If you have enough money to toss around, you can cover up anything you want. The state gives us some of our most profitable specimens. For the promise of a kickback, of course.”

  It was as if the entire world crashed down around me. I felt like everything I thought I knew was suddenly unstable, relentlessly hopeless.

  Anna’s husband cleared his throat behind her. I had forgotten they were there, so wrapped up in the twisted plot of the place.

  “Do the workers know?” I asked.

  Anna shrugged. “I’m sure some have suspicions. But that’s the thing, Jessica. Most people are blind to what they want to be blind to. This place gives people without hope, without anything really, a place to work. A place to feel like they matter and, more importantly, a place to feel like they’re the sane one. If they do suspect our secrets, they turn the other way. I thought you’d do that, too. You came here broken and young. But no, you had to go snooping. You had to try to play detective.”

  For a moment, she looked down at the floor, and I thought I could believe her. I thought for a moment I really had disappointed her, that she was genuine. She raised her chin to speak once more. “We’re alone here, and we like it. You’ve brought nothing but trouble. And now you have to pay. Everyone has to pay somehow, you know.”

  “What will we do with this one?” the younger officer asked, the one I had spoken to. He rubbed his hands as if he were a dog waiting for a tossed bone or a hunter waiting the final signal to fire the shot. Anna appraised me as if seeing me for the first time. My stomach dropped.

 

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