Asylum - 13 Tales of Terror

by Matt Drabble

  Sara watched the professor as he spoke. His eyes seemed to come alight and his manner exuded a calm authority. He held the room effortlessly and even Eddie and Lacey were paying close attention.

  “Convicted serial killers have used a variety of excuses for their behavior. Henry Lee Lucas blamed his upbringing; others like Jeffrey Dahmer say that they were just born with a "part" of them missing. Ted Bundy claimed pornography made him do it. Herbert Mullin - Santa Cruz killer of thirteen - blamed the voices in his head that told him it was time to "sing the die song". Carl Panzram swore that it was prison that turned him into a monster, while Bobby Joe Long said that a motorcycle accident had made him hypersexual and eventually a serial lust killer. The most psychopathic amongst the breed, like John Wayne Gacy, somehow turned the blame around and said that his victims actually deserved to die.”

  “Surely they’re all just a bunch of nut-jobs?” Eddie said dismissively.

  “Is that your clinical opinion doctor?” Barry retorted.

  “Hey I’m just saying that those guys were all mental cases, whacking off staring at the moon in filthy underpants,” Eddie said succinctly.

  “Do you think that you would be able to spot one of these gentlemen on the street?” Professor Rourke asked a little tersely.

  “Of course I would, who the hell wouldn’t?” Eddie responded.

  “Well statistically, the average serial killer is a white male from a lower-to-middle-class background, usually in his twenties or thirties. Who does that sound like Eddie?” Rourke said staring directing at Eddie. “Did you know that some are very intelligent and have shown great promise as successful professionals? They are also fascinated with the police and authority in general. Many of them will have applied to become police themselves but were rejected; they may have worked as security guards or served in the military.”

  “Didn’t you say that your family had a long history of police service Eddie?” Barry smirked.

  “Hey screw you weirdo!” Eddie snapped, “How would like me to wipe that smug grin off of your face?”

  “Settle down Eddie,” Rourke ordered.

  “Hey he started it,” Eddie sulked.

  “What are you twelve?” Lacey sniggered.

  Sara could see that Eddie was getting agitated; his face was growing purple with unexpressed anger. She could guess that he was a man used to getting his own way in all affairs. Eddie’s good looks and athletic build had surely paved his easy path through life to date.

  Eddie suddenly jumped to his feet. His eyes were bulging as he struggled to vocalize his feelings, “I didn’t come here to be insulted.”

  “Why where do you usually go?” Barry quipped.

  Eddie made a clumsy lunge towards Barry, only in his rage his feet snagged on his chair leg and he stumbled forward. A spontaneous laugh broke out from Barry, Lacey, and even Molly which only served to enrage Eddie further.

  “Calm down Eddie,” Sara offered somewhat ineffectively.

  Eddie staggered back to his feet, ripped his lumberjack shirt from the back of the chair and stormed violently out, slamming the door behind him.

  “Well now, that was rather an inauspicious start,” Professor Rourke said a little shakily. “Give me a minute guys and I’ll see if I can get him to calm down and come back.”

  Professor Rourke left the classroom in a somewhat quieter fashion than Eddie.

  Lacey leaned across towards Sara, “Well that certainly was entertaining for our first night,” she giggled.

  “Spoilt child,” Barry said with a sniff.

  “Don’t be mean Barry,” Molly said quietly.

  The door opened and Professor Rourke entered, “Sorry folks, but we’re going to be one short, at least for tonight.”

  “Where’s Eddie?” Molly asked.

  “He’s gone for the evening,” Professor Rourke said regretfully.

  “Pouty child,” Barry said a little gleefully.

  “Now where were we?” Professor Rourke asked.

  “Serial killers?” Molly answered.

  “Oh right, right. Many were physically or emotionally abused by parents. As children, fledgling serial killers often set fires, torture animals, and wet their beds. These red-flag behaviors are known as the "triad" of symptoms. Brain injuries are also common.”

  “So what are the medical research facts surrounding these subjects?” Sara asked, growing interested again.

  “Well, the most interesting…”

  Professor Rourke was cut short as the room was suddenly plunged into complete darkness.

  Someone screamed and Sara could not tell who was responsible in the blackened room.

  “Keep calm folks,” Professor Rourke’s calming voice rang out.

  “What’s going on?” Molly whimpered.

  “It’s just the lights Molly,” Professor Rourke answered. “Maybe the storm blew down the power lines.”

  “Maybe its Eddie,” Barry said in a low worried tone.

  “I’m sure that it’s just the storm,” Sara said crossly, not wanting Molly to be upset or herself for that matter.

  “Hang on, I’ve got a torch in here somewhere,” Molly said followed by a rustling in her bag. A thin stream of light suddenly illuminated her in the darkness. “I keep it for, you know…” she shrugged, “When it gets dark,”

  “Good for you Molly,” Professor Rourke said strongly. “Pass me the torch and I’ll lead us down and out,” he said, effortlessly taking charge.

  Sara followed him instinctively as though it was Randolph speaking from beyond the grave. She took Molly’s hand. Lacey came next and then Barry brought up the rear and the four of them followed Professor Rourke through the classroom door and out into the dark library.

  The long narrow room was almost pitch black. There were no illuminations of any kind and the windows had blinds to guard the books against the daytime sun.

  “I don’t like this,” Lacey whispered, somehow feeling that the environment still merited hushed voices. “What if it is Eddie? What if he’s messing around trying to scare us?”

  “I’m sure that it’s nothing of the sort,” Barry said from behind. “And even if it was, what’s a little darkness going to achieve?” he snorted.

  They all reached the stairs and looked down over the walkway into the black atrium below. There were no lights of any kind and the only gloomy light came from the night outside. Sara could hear the wind whipping rain viciously against the glass. The storm seemed to be intensifying and the moonlight was covered by thick black clouds.

  “I don’t like this,” Molly whimpered.

  “Oh shit!” Lacey suddenly exclaimed.

  “What, WHAT!” Molly demanded.

  “Calm down scaredy-pants,” Lacey snapped, “I just forgot my bag, it’s got my wallet and…, other stuff”

  “Just leave it,” Sara insisted.

  “Not a chance, I’ll just be a second,” and with that Lacey was already running back to the classroom.

  “Should we wait?” Sara asked Professor Rourke.

  “Wait here and I’ll go with her, whatever is happening you are all still my responsibility,” Professor Rourke said turning and following Lacey’s trail.

  Sara watched the dark library as first Lacey went through the doors before she was followed by Professor Rourke.

  A bloodcurdling scream shattered the air and mashed their collective thoughts into one single terrified mind.

  Sara fought the rising tide of panic that threatened to overwhelm her. The scream had been high pitched and almost certainly female in origin. Lacey had run back to the library and the scream appeared to come from that general direction. Her feet felt welded to the floor and Molly’s grip on her hand had tightened to the point of painfulness, but she was grateful for the touch.

  It seemed like an age before Professor Rourke suddenly reappeared back through the double doors.

  “Where’s Lacey Professor Rourke?” Sara asked nervously.

  “I couldn’t find her,
the library is pitch black in there. I checked our classroom but she wasn’t there,” he replied a little shakily.

  “What do you mean she wasn’t there?” Sara demanded. “You followed her in, she must be there. Who the hell was screaming?”

  “I don’t know what to tell you Sara,” Professor Rourke responded somewhat testily. “She isn’t in there. I thought the scream came from out here somewhere. The acoustics in this place make any loud noises echo around the building.”

  “What are we going to do?” Molly whined.

  “Let’s not panic guys,” Professor Rourke said steadily, “All we’ve got here is a power cut, nothing more.”

  “Dammit let’s just go already,” Barry snapped irritably.

  “Um, Professor?” Molly suddenly whispered, “I’ve never heard of a power cut that only affects one building.”

  Sara turned around and followed Molly’s gaze that was staring out of a large window to the streets outside. The houses sparkled and twinkled with warm glowing lights that kept the occupants safe against the raging dark and stormy night.

  “OK, let’s not panic,” Professor Rourke reiterated, this time a little more unsure.

  “Seems like a good time to me,” Barry quipped nervously.

  “What do we do?” Molly panicked.

  Sara had no idea and hoped for Professor Rourke to step up and take control - much like Randolph would have done in a similar position - but the teacher stood rooted to the spot.

  “Downstairs, quickly,” Sara barked. She knew they really ought to go and check on Lacey, but she also knew that a bunch of dysfunctional part-time students and a professor weren’t exactly equipped to go off on a “Scooby-Doo” investigative hunt. They would find a phone and get the hell out of here. “Has anyone got their phone with them?”

  “Mine’s still in my bag,” Molly said.

  “Me too,” Barry confirmed.

  “I don’t carry one,” Professor Rourke shrugged.

  “Brilliant,” Sara snapped, annoyed that her own was also still back in the library. “Professor, where is the nearest public phone?”

  “Um, I think…, I think that there’s one…” the professor stammered nervously.

  “Oh for Christ’s sake,” Barry suddenly snapped as though an idea had just dawned on him “Are the rest of you complete idiots?”

  “What do you mean?” Sara asked.

  “It’s a gag, just a crappy joke, no doubt at my expense,” he said as though speaking from bitter experience. “You all saw Eddie and Lacey in the class; thick as thieves, giggling away like a couple of schoolgirls. They were no doubt planning their prank together just to scare the rest of us.”

  “Oh I’m sure that they…” Sara started.

  “And what the hell would you know about it? Barry snapped, “What the hell would the likes of you know about being the butt of every conceivable joke going? Let me tell you that I’ve had a lifetime of practical experience in these matters and I’m not about to play along any further.” With that he stormed off down the stairs and descended into the darkness below.

  “Shouldn’t we stop him, or go with him?” Molly asked Sara quietly.

  “I don’t think that he would listen,” Sara sighed. “Look, let’s get down the stairs, find a phone and call for help. I don’t really care if this is all some joke played by Eddie and Lacey. If it is then I’m sure that the police will be the first ones to not find it very funny.”

  “Ok, I think there should a telephone behind the reception desk,” Professor Rourke ventured, jangling the pockets in his slacks. “Yes,” he said relieved. “I’ve got my keys. Let’s go to the reception area. We can shut the door behind us and wait for the police.”

  Sara kept hold of Molly’s sweaty hand as they followed the staircase downwards slowly and carefully in the dim light. Professor Rourke suddenly strode confidently across the atrium as they reached ground level. Sara thought that perhaps he was a man confident in having a structure and a plan in place.

  The three of them walked quickly towards the reception desk area. The main desk was an open space with sliding glass doors that were currently shut. Professor Rourke pulled a small bunch of keys from his pocket and quickly opened the locked door. Once inside he tried to lock the door again, but it wouldn’t comply.

  “Bloody fire regulations,” he muttered before giving up.

  Sara quickly located the telephone and snatched up the handset. Her heart sank when there was no dial tone. “It’s dead,” she said to the others.

  “Oh, hang on a minute, it’ll probably be disabled overnight,” Professor Rourke said hopefully.

  He reached past Sara and she could smell his faint aftershave. It was a musky husk that older men seemed to favor; it was strangely reassuring.

  “Try it now,” he said after flicking a few buttons.

  Sara tried it again, “Still nothing,” she said.

  “Bugger,” Professor Rourke responded.

  “What about that security guard that I saw earlier?” Sara said, suddenly remembering the creepy chubby guy who had tried to lead her down to a lower level before Lacey had interrupted him. “Where would he be now?”

  “I’m sorry?” Professor Rourke answered, “Security guy?”

  “Yes, he was hitting on me when I came in. He was around thirty with a pudgy spotty face and was quite short and fat. He had short shaved hair and he was wearing a dark blue uniform.”

  “Um, I don’t know what to tell you Sara, but since the college’s budget was slashed to the bone we don’t have any security guards here.”

  Sara felt her stomach lurch violently, “But I saw him, didn’t you?” She turned to ask Molly.

  “Sorry no, I didn’t see anyone until I got up to the classroom,” Molly said. Her eyes were wide, full of worry and just a little excitement.

  “Then who the hell was he?” Sara asked aloud.

  “I think that the better question now is, where the hell is he?” Molly said ominously.

  “I think that we should just get out of here ladies,” Professor Rourke said urgently.

  He led the way back out of the office and headed straight for the main doors. He took out his bunch of keys again and began furiously jiggling them at the keyhole on the main door.

  “What is it?” Molly asked.

  “The bloody key won’t work; something is jammed in the lock,” Professor Rourke panted. “We’re not getting out this way,” he said, turning around with naked fear and uncertainty on his face.

  “Then where else can we get out?” Sara asked quickly, feeling exposed out in the openness of the atrium.

  “I think there are some delivery doors at the rear of the building, through the kitchen area,” Professor Rourke said strongly as though attempting to persuade himself. He began to move towards the canteen.

  “Don’t you think that we ought to think about this Professor?” Sara pleaded.

  “There is only one other exit that I know of ladies and I am going to go through it, call the police and then sort out of this silliness.” He straightened his tie and began striding purposely forward.

  Sara was torn; the idea of retreating further into the dark college was not a particularly appealing one. If this was some joke played by Eddie and Lacey then what part exactly did the bogus security guard play? She looked back at Molly and felt strangely responsible for the younger woman. Her marriage had been childless at the choice of Randolph, as most of their supposedly joint decisions were. She turned to speak to the Professor again only to find that he was already striding through the canteen doors and not bothering to obtain anyone else’s permission. She felt a strong flash of anger towards him; suddenly he seemed more like Randolph than ever.

  “Professor Rourke, wait,” she hissed through the darkness.

  Grabbing Molly’s hand again she ran towards the canteen doors, following him as he disappeared through. She eased open the still softly swinging doors and into the cafeteria.

  The room was large, equi
pped to serve the several thousand students who attended the college on a daily basis. Long white tables with fitted benches were staggered on either side of a central clear walkway. At the far end of the room was the serving counter, slightly obscured in the gloomy light. Sara eyes darted around the room but she couldn’t see Professor Rourke anywhere.

  “Professor?” She whispered as loudly as she dared given the situation.

  “Where is he?” Molly asked quietly.

  “I have no idea,” Sara replied, “I can hardly see anything in here.”

  “He wouldn’t have left us would he?”

  “If he’s anything like the last man I knew, then it’s quite probable,” Sara said bitterly. “Come on, if he’s gone out through the delivery doors at the rear, then hopefully he’s left them unlocked.”

  “Do you think that it’s that fake security guy you saw?” Molly asked as they walked slowly forward still holding hands. “I mean Professor Rourke did say that serial killers are often fascinated with police and authority positions in general. He even said they might have either attempted to become police themselves but were rejected, worked as security guards, or served in the military,” Molly recited.

  “That’s some memory you’ve got there Molly,” Sara said impressed as they approached the serving counter. “Is this a subject that you were particularly into then?” she asked.

  “You mean serial killers? It’s my life.” Molly said cryptically.

  Sara turned to the younger woman, suddenly a little nervous, after all she didn’t know Molly, or any of the others for that matter. “Really? It seems a little bit dark for a hobby don’t you think?” she ventured.

  Molly shrugged, “I tend to gravitate towards subjects that I’m interested in I guess, or at least ones that I used to be interested in. This crash course has somewhat tempered my appetite,” she laughed nervously.

  Relived, Sara looked for a way through the service area and into the kitchen beyond. The counter seemed to run the width of the room. Cabinets with large plastic see through lifting doors now stood empty of food. There were metallic openings under the counter for plates and a till sat underneath a dust cover on the left hand side. There seemed to be no way into the kitchen without clambering over the counter. Sara knew that there must be a door to the kitchen but she didn’t fancy heading back out into the college to find it in the dark.