by Amy Cross
"So who's in charge?" I ask.
"I am!" he says with a smile, before clinking his glass against mine. "Cheers! To you continuing good health!"
I watch as he takes a sip.
"Let me get this straight," I continue after a moment. "You're in charge of Tor Cliff?"
He nods.
"And Dr. Cole is just another patient? Like me? Like everyone up there?"
He nods again.
"And this whole thing is just..." I pause as I try to find the right word. "This is insane," I say eventually.
"Welcome to the asylum," he replies, clinking glasses with me again. "You're starting to get the hang of it, aren't you? Now, obviously, I'm fully aware that the system isn't entirely perfect. Some of the people up there in Tor Cliff have been irreparably damaged by the way things are run, and I'm starting to think that a new system might be advisable. After all these years, Dr. Cole has caused a lot of damage. He's worked using a process of trial and error, and there have been an awful lot of errors, haven't they? He's really done some quite awful things."
"And you've let him," I point out. "If you're supposed to be in charge -"
"Tor Cliff was built for him," he replies, interrupting me. "It was all a long, long time ago, but when he first became ill, it was decided that special measures had to be taken." He pauses, and for a moment there seem to be tears in his eyes. "He was my colleague," he continues, "and my friend. We worked together, but he couldn't contain his own mind, and he began to lose control. He had all these fantasies and illusions, and they spilled out into the real world. We worked alone, most of the time, and I tried to help him, but eventually I realized that he needed help. Proper, long-term help."
Looking down at my wine, I try to make sense of this madness.
"It's all a failure, really," he continues, with a slightly wistful tone to his voice. "It was well-intentioned, and I never meant to cause any harm, but Tor Cliff..." He sets his glass down before walking over to another desk and picking up a set of documents. "Tor Cliff can't continue," he adds sadly. "The articles of incorporation were drawn up with provisions for the place to be closed down if it became apparent that it was causing more harm than good. I think we crossed that point a long time ago, and as the person in charge, I think I might have to make the decision I've been dreading all these years."
"You can't just keep people here for no reason," I tell him. "I was kidnapped and dragged here -"
"Most unfortunate," he replies. "Most, most awful, really. I'm so sorry that things have managed to progress to this point. It wasn't my intention, you know."
"No kidding," I continue, setting my glass down on the desk before walking over to him. "You need to put this right before someone, most likely me, decides to take it out of your hands."
He nods.
"So?" I add, waiting for him to say something. "What's stopping you?"
"I can't just open the doors and let everyone out," he replies. "That would be a disaster. All the damage that has been caused so far would be multiplied several times over if all those poor unfortunate souls were just allowed to wander back out into the world. Dronigan would strip most of them dead before they got more than a few steps from the door, and if any of them happened to make it, they wouldn't be able to survive." He sighs. "I think the damage is now permanent," he adds, "and I have to take responsibility for what I've allowed to happen."
"People are dying up there," I point out, barely able to contain my anger. "While you're sitting down here, working out your moral problems, people up there in Tor Cliff are suffering and dying. Dr. Cole is insane! He carries out experiments on the other patients. I've seen some of them when he's finished with them -"
"I know," the beast replies sadly, "but -"
"No," I say firmly, "you have to listen to this. The things that are happening up there are barbaric, and now you're telling me that the whole place was designed to help one man who lost his mind?"
"He was a great man once," the beast replies. "If you could have seen Dr. Cole in the days when he still had his sanity, when he was still focused on trying to truly help people, you'd be amazed. He had a pure heart, and yet there was always a hint of something else, a kind of confusion that most people didn't see. I was his friend, of course, so I was privy to his darkest thoughts. I ignored the warning signs for so long, until finally it was too late to do anything. I truly believe that after all these years, it's no longer possible to save him from his own insanity."
"I don't care," I reply. "None of that matters, because right now he's a lunatic and he's torturing people to death, all in the name of some kind of pseudo-science that doesn't even make sense! He's out of control! Have you seen the state of some of the creatures that have been there over the years?"
"I'd like to think," the beast says calmly, "that somewhere deep in his mind, there's still some kind of logic and order, some kind of sanity that guides his actions, even if they appear to have no method. I certainly wouldn't like to think that he's randomly cutting people up and opening bits of them and so on. You know, perhaps -"
"He had me kidnapped," I continue, interrupting him. "He was looking for me, specifically. He wants to get into my head and root around in there."
"You probably shouldn't let him."
"No kidding." I look over at the door for a moment as I try to decide what I should do next. There's no way I can just walk away and leave all those people suffering in Tor Cliff, but at the same time, I don't think I can go charging in and save the day either. "This is your fault," I continue, turning back to the beast, "and you're the one who has to come up with a way to fix it. The people up there in that place need to be helped, because that maniac has done terrible things to them, and you -"
Before I can finish, there's a knock at the door, and seconds later a worried-looking nurse enters the room.
"I'm busy," the beast tells her. "Whatever it is -"
"There's a problem at the rear gate," she says, ashen-faced with panic. "I know you said not to disturb you while you were talking to Ms. Hart, but it's Dronigan, he's..." She pauses. "I think you'd better come and see for yourself."
"Tell him to wait," the beast replies. "I don't have time to deal with his problems right now."
"I don't think he'll listen to me," the nurse continues. "He's... changed. I barely even recognized him at first, and there's something new in his eyes, a kind of desperation..."
"Fine," the beast replies, with a sigh. "I should never have given Dronigan so much freedom in the first place. At this rate, the whole of Tor Cliff is going to come crashing down before I have a chance to put it right."
Chapter Four
Felix
"Hey," the voice whispers. "You in there. Wolf. I've got something to tell you."
I can't shut the voice out entirely, but I have no intention of answering.
I'm on the floor of my cell, staring up into the darkness. In my mind's eye, I keep seeing the same thing over and over again: the image of Nurse Silk crying out for help as the blade slide between her ribs and into her chest. I've never felt so powerless in all my life, but I can't help thinking that I should have somehow found a way to help her. The chains were tight and thick, but still, I should have done something.
Instead, I watched her die.
"What's wrong with you?" the voice continues. It's the old woman from the next cell, still trying to get my attention. She's been like this, on and off, for the past few weeks, and yet she never actually seems to have anything to say. To be perfectly honest, I suspect that her mind has been completely shattered, so there's no point in even bothering to respond to her feeble attempts to talk to me. At a time like this, especially, I feel as if there's nothing that anyone can ever say to me again.
I failed.
Closing my eyes, I try to banish the image of her death from my mind, but it merely comes back stronger than ever. I open my eyes again, but the image has caught and I watch as blood sprays from her neck. Blinking a couple of times, I s
ee the image reset itself, and this time I hear her cry out in pain before her body slumps to the floor.
"Have you seen them?" the old woman asks, having apparently decided to talk to me anyway, regardless of my lack of interest. "They're all around. Small ones, big ones... Thin ones, fat ones. They're on all the doors and walls and ceilings. They hide in the shadows most of the time, but once you notice them, you realize they're everywhere. They hide and skulk, but sometimes I realize that they're staring, as if they're watching and waiting. They're smarter than they look, you know. They've got plans."
I think back to Dr. Cole's grin, and it's clear that he enjoyed watching Nurse Silk's death. One way or another, I have to find a way to make him pay. Nurse Fletcher needs to die as well; her cruelty is possibly even more hideous that Dr. Cole's, and if I never do anything else in my pitiful life, I have to ensure that they both die in agony.
"Sometimes," the old woman continues, "I even hear them at night. That's when they're more active, as if they prefer to move about under cover of darkness. Clever little things, really. I hear their little legs scuttling across the stone. They think I don't notice them, but I do. Nothing gets past me."
Then again, maybe I'm a fool. I didn't know Nurse Silk for very long, so it seems absurd that my feelings for her are already so strong. Did I merely latch onto her because I wanted some contact, and did she simply view me as a distraction? Taking a deep breath, I realize that although it sounds crazy, I truly did love her, and I still do. The thought of never seeing her again is agonizing, even though we only had a few moments together before she died. Closing my eyes again, I decide that my only option is to wait for sleep to arrive; in Tor Cliff, my dreams have always been so vivid, so at least there's a chance that she might visit me, even if it has to be a nightmare.
"They want something," the old woman says. "If it was just one or two of them, I could maybe understand, but so many... They're waiting, and if we don't do something about them soon, they're going to strike. Why am I the only one who realizes? Why doesn't anyone ever listen to me?" She sighs. "They probably think I'm insane. Maybe they're right, but they could at least pay attention once in a while."
I wait for sleep.
It won't come.
"One day," the old woman continues, "when it's too late and we've been overrun, they'll launch their attack, and then everyone will realize that they should have listened to me. There'll be nothing left for them to do, of course, but at least they'll realize, while they're dying, that I was right. I'm not crazy, you know. These things are real. If you just pay attention, you'll see them yourself. They're crawling all over the place."
Opening my eyes, I realize that my mind is far too active. Images of Nurse Silk's death are still flashing past, along with the sound of Dr. Cole's voice, and I'm filled with more anger than I've ever felt in my life. How the hell can I expect to sleep when I've just watched the woman I love being killed? Still flat on my back, I turn my head to face the door, and I feel the strength growing through my body. If I can get out of this cell, I have a chance to reach Dr. Cole and rip him apart before anyone can stop me. That's all I want, now; I want him to suffer. After that, let them kill me.
"You'll see," the old woman says. "You'll all see."
I turn to look straight up into the darkness of my cell. I just need to wait until I've recovered enough strength to strike. After a moment, however, I realize that something is moving in the darkness, a few feet above my head, and finally a small spider comes into focus, dangling down from a single silken line. I watch as its wriggling legs get closer to my face, and then I see that there are more up there, making their way down from the ceiling.
Hundreds and hundreds of spiders.
Chapter Five
Abby Hart
"It started about twenty minutes ago," the nurse says as we reach another chamber. At the far end, there's a large metal gate with two huge doors, and something or someone is hammering on the other side with furious intensity. "I don't know what's wrong with him," the nurse continues, "but I don't think the gate can hold forever."
"You did the right thing in fetching me, Katia," the beast replies, stepping forward. "This can't be allowed to continue. Dronigan has always been so calm before. I can't imagine what could have made him change so drastically."
"Katia?" I say, turning to the nurse. "Is your father named Ragoth?"
"Have you seen him?" she replies. "Is he okay? Did he ask after me?"
I open my mouth to reply, but the truth is, I'm not sure how to tell her about her father's death.
"I need to speak to Dronigan," the beast says, turning to me. "This fury can't be allowed to continue unabated. Either he'll break through and kill us all, or he'll burn up."
"He attacked the kitchen at Tor Cliff," I tell him. "At least, they think it was him."
He turns to me.
"Two of the nurses were killed," I continue. "It was chaos up there, right before I was brought down here to you."
"Dronigan would never do something like that," he replies, although there's a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. "I must talk to him," he adds, before shuffling across the chamber. "Whatever's happened to him, I can undo it, but only if I come face to face with him and talk to him directly."
"If he opens that gate..." Katia says, her voice filled with fear.
"It's okay," I reply, unable to shake the feeling that I might be at least partially to blame for the change in Dronigan's behavior. "I think I can help." With that, I follow the beast, and although the pounding on the gate is strong enough to make the entire chamber shake, I feel as if I have to see if I can talk to Dronigan and make him calm down.
"There's nothing you can do," the beast says as he fumbles with a set of keys around his waist. "Leave it to me. I suppose I'll just have to see if I can talk him out of his fury. You never know, it's worth a shot. After everything that has happened over the years, I at least owe it to him to see if I can help. I can't let him suffer like this."
"Your track record isn't so great," I point out. "Anyway, I've met Dronigan before."
He turns to me.
"Just open the gate," I continue. "He's not a monster. I can talk to him. I saw it in his eyes the last time I was with him. Somewhere, deep down, he has a soul."
"He is a monster," the beast replies, before unlocking a panel next to the gate and starting to turn a large winch. "I'm going to open the main part of the gate, but I'll leave the shield in place. I can't risk having him get in here. He's not accountable for his actions, and once he comes through, there'll be no other way to hold him back. I can't risk having him ruin everything, not when I've been waiting so long for the results of my experiment."
"Just let me get face to face with him," I reply, watching as the doors start to creak open. "I can -" Before I'm able to finish, however, I spot something moving on the other side of the gate. For a moment, as the doors continue to open, I struggle to work out exactly what I'm seeing, but finally I realize that there's a huge, mis-shapen pile of flesh and bone twitching and shivering out there, with what look to be large wooden spears running through its body. It's difficult to really make out much of a shape to this damn thing, until finally I spot a familiar face staring at me from within the mass of flesh, blood and bone.
"This is impossible," the beast says. "There's no way... This simply can't be happening..."
"What happened to you?" I ask, stepping closer to the gate and staring up at Dronigan's face. "You're... different."
"I need more," he whispers, his voice sounding tense and gravely.
"More what?" I ask, before realizing that behind him, the forest looks to have been stripped bare. Trees have been felled and ripped apart, and roots have been torn from the ground. It's as if something has laid waste to the entire land, as far as the eye can see, and finally I look back at Dronigan and realize that pieces of some of the splintered trees are sticking out of his sides.
"Food," he whispers, reaching out and rattling the lattice
-grill that's still covering the doorway. It's clear that he's desperate to get through, and considering his increased size and appetite, I'm not convinced that any kind of defense system can hold him back forever.
"What have you done?" I ask, trying not to let him see my fear. "What happened out there? You weren't like this the first time I met you."
"I need more food," he replies. "I've eaten everything I can find, but I still ache for more. Let me inside. I need to consume everything I can find. I thought there was enough out there in the forest, but when I finished, I realized I needed more, but then..." He pauses, as if he can't quite understand how he ended up like this. "There was no more," he adds. "It was all gone."
"This isn't how it works," I tell him. "You can't just go around eating everything you see."
"Why not?" he asks, running his fingers against the lattice. "If I wish to eat, and something is there to be eaten, I must eat it. You taught me how to do it. Isn't it natural for me to want to satisfy my appetite? I've got so many years' worth of feasting to catch up on. I ached for a long time, and now I must eat."
I stare at him. He's several times larger than before, as if he's tried to fill himself completely with everything he's found out there in the forest. Whereas he used to have a beautiful, calm face, now there's a crazed look in his eyes, and his body seems to be falling apart, as if he can't deal with all the garbage he's been shoving into his mouth. It's shocking to see how quickly and how easily he's changed; in fact, it's almost as if he's barely himself anymore.
"Let me in!" he shouts suddenly, leaning forward and slamming his body against the lattice, which is barely able to withstand the force. He reaches an arm through the lattice, and I'm barely able to jump out of the way in time to avoid being grabbed. "Feed me!" he screams.