by Amy Cross
"He told me that you're just another patient," Abby continues. "He told me that you lost your mind a long time ago, and ever since then he's been trying to protect you."
"Huh," Dr. Cole continues as he continues to check my body for damage. "Well, it certainly sounds as if he's concocted quite a strange story, doesn't it? I imagine he's come to accept that it's all true. Tell me, though, did you really believe that stabbing me in the heart would kill me? I mean, come on, that's like something from a fairy-tale. Next, you'll be telling me that you think I can transform into a bat and fly away."
"Why did you bring me here?" she asks.
"I already told you," he replies, loosening the straps around my wrists. "There, Felix. By all rights, you should be dead, but something obviously saved you. I'd really like to know what kind of creature could possibly have felt it was worthwhile keeping you alive." He turns to Abby. "What do you think, Ms. Hart? A werewolf is pushed to the brink of death, and then death itself seems to push him back. Why?"
Pulling on the restraints, I feel the fabric start to tear. This is working, but I need more time. I like Abby Hart and I wish there was a way for me to help her, but the truth is, her suffering might buy me a little more time.
"This place," she replies, "it can't continue. The people you're holding here are in agony. You're torturing them day after day, subjecting them to experiments that do nothing more than -"
"Science demands a price," he tells her. "If I went through life never doing anything that caused pain, I'd never get anywhere. All civilizations throughout history are built on pain and fear. Instead of vilifying people like me, you should be grateful; we do these things out of sight, and we hide them from you, and you're able to sail along through your lives and pretend that no-one ever has to suffer. We carry the weight of your sins, and yet now you dare to come here and lecture me on morality?"
"Let him go," she says firmly. "I swear to God, if you don't untie him, I'll..." She pauses, as if she's trying to work out how to threaten him. "I'll let Dronigan through the gate," she continues eventually. "He's down there now, trying to get in. I've talked to him before, and I can get him to see things my way. I'll go and open the gate and wave him through, and there'll be nothing you can do to stop him."
"An interesting threat," Dr. Cole replies with a faint smile. "Still, you're neglecting one rather important point." He turns to her. "I could kill you right here and right now. Believe me, Ms. Hart, I know how to end the lives of vampires. I've done it many times in the past, and it would be the work of a moment to bring you to your knees. The fact that you're still breathing should be enough, I think, to make you realize that my intentions are a little more honorable."
As I tug at the restraints, I suddenly feel the fabric start to tear, and moments later I manage to get my left wrist free. With Dr. Cole and Abby focused entirely on one another, I'm able to start working on the other straps that are binding me to the table. I swear, I can feel my revenge getting closer and closer.
"You're asking the wrong questions," Dr. Cole continues, stepping closer to Abby. "Why do you believe the words of the beast, and yet you assume that everything I tell you is a lie? The truth is, he and I are both patients here. Neither of us has any superiority over the other. The whole of Tor Cliff is a madhouse, and everyone here is a patient, including you. If that's something you struggle to believe, then there's clearly very little that I can do to help you. For now, all I can do is try to make you see reason."
"Stay back!" she shouts, grabbing a scalpel from one of the nearby benches.
"Or what?" he asks. "Do you really think you can hurt me? It's far better to work with me, Abigail. You don't have too many choices right now, and if you struggle, you'll only cause yourself more problems. Wouldn't you prefer to sit down calmly and let me explain the nature of the process to you? It might be helpful for you to finally accept the inevitability of your situation."
"Why did you bring me here?" she asks, as Nurse Fletcher appears in the doorway.
"Behind you!" I shout.
She turns just in time, before backing away toward the wall.
"I've already told you," Dr. Cole continues, with a confident smile. "I want what's in your head, Abigail, and believe me, my way of getting it is better than anyone else's way of getting it. There are people, even in this very building, who would gladly rip you apart in order to get what they're after; I, at least, will attempt to put you back together again once I'm done."
"You should listen to him," Nurse Fletcher adds. "The beast is insane. He's a patient here, just like everyone else."
"Except for one person," Dr. Cole adds. "We know there's a doctor here somewhere, hidden among us, but we don't know who. It could be anyone, and that's one of the main aims of my experiments. I have to flush out whoever's really in charge."
"I'm not letting you into my head," Abby replies firmly.
"Then come with me," Dr. Cole replies, "and let me show you what will happen if you continue to resist."
I try to get another of the restraints free in time to get loose from the bed and help, but I'm not sure if I can manage it. The pain is returning, and I'm convinced that if death were possible right now, I'd have passed away already.
Chapter Four
Abby Hart
"You made the right choice," Dr. Cole says as he and Nurse Fletcher lead me along the cold, drafty corridor. "It's about time that you saw the truth about Tor Cliff."
Glancing over my shoulder, I try to calculate my odds of getting out of this place if I simply turn and run. I'm fairly sure I could outrun both Dr. Cole and Nurse Fletcher, and the other nurses don't seem to be in much of a position to put up a struggle, but I'm more worried about what would happen once I managed to get outside. With Dronigan having turned into some kind of all-consuming monster, there's no safe path through the forest, and besides, I'm worried about the asylum and about what might happen if these madmen aren't stopped.
"Look at him," Dr. Cole says, stopping by a window and looking out at the dark forest. "He's truly lost his mind, hasn't he? Sometimes I wish I could bring Dronigan himself inside and root around in his mind. I can only imagine what I might find. Then again, the task would probably consume me, and I'm afraid I no longer have time to pick and choose my projects so freely." He turns to me. "It's time to find the task that will truly make my name. No more messing about with lesser specimens. I'm ready for the ultimate prize."
Looking outside, I see what he means: Dronigan's large, swollen form is moving quickly through the forest, occasionally coming closer to the building as if he's struggling to find a way inside. It's as if he's lost his mind and become entirely focused on the task of breaking into Tor Cliff. After a moment he stops and looks up at the window, his manic face bathed in blue moonlight and his eyes wide open, staring at us with terrifying intensity.
"He was always fragile," Nurse Fletcher says after a moment. "You should have exterminated him while you had the chance."
"It wasn't my choice," Dr. Cole points out. "Even if we'd been able to get rid of him, I imagine he would have reformed. The conditions are perfect out there for -"
Before he can finish, there's a loud banging sound from elsewhere in the asylum, as if someone is trying to break through the walls.
"What now?" Nurse Fletcher mutters.
"Leave it be," Dr. Cole replies calmly. "The time has come. I don't think there's must point fighting it any longer. Sometimes the world ignores the pleas of man and reorganizes itself according to the laws of nature. In such circumstances, all we can do is adapt and try to find a role." He pauses, before turning to me. "We're all filled with chaos, Ms. Hart; each and every one of us has a mind that boils over with thoughts and emotions. Sanity, if it even exists, is nothing more than a straight line that tries to make sense of our internal landscape. It's such a fragile thing."
"But Dronigan can't just be ignored," Nurse Fletcher points out. "He's -"
"Just leave it be," Dr. Cole says again, more
firmly this time, while still watching Dronigan through the window. "Things couldn't have carried on as they were. We all knew that the final days were coming. No building was ever meant to last forever, especially not one that has for so long been divided."
"I should go back and check on the werewolf," Nurse Fletcher replies. "He was working on the restraints -"
"Let him get free if that's what he wants," Dr. Cole tells her, before turning to me and smiling. "There's no need to keep anyone chained up, not any longer. We can open all the cell doors and let the madmen run free." He pauses as there's another banging sound from deep within the asylum. "I've held him back for long enough," he continues, "and now I realize that there was no point. I was just storing up trouble from the start, and my experiments were never really going to go anywhere. The real doctor of Tor Cliff must have hidden himself away long ago."
"So the beast isn't in charge?" I ask, still trying to make sense of the chaos.
"Dr. Cole and the beast were colleagues once," Nurse Fletcher explains. "Eventually, their madness became so great that they were incarcerated here at Tor Cliff, one above and one below. They each believed that they had been put in charge, but in reality they were just patients. Over time, they began to gather nurses from the forest and use them, sending them out to collect unfortunate souls to join them here and endure their experiments."
"But the real doctor must be here somewhere," I reply, turning to her. "No-one would just leave an asylum to run itself!"
"There's a doctor here alright," she continues, "but no-one knows who it is. If you want my opinion, I'm quite sure that the poor soul has probably long since been driven mad. Maybe he doesn't even know his own identity anymore. Hell, maybe it's a woman. It could be anyone here, but in a way, it hardly matters. Tor Cliff has a new destiny."
"But we have to find this doctor," I reply, hoping against hope that she'll see sense, "and we have to get this place put back how it was supposed to be. We can't just let the madness overflow and take over."
"Why not?" Dr. Cole asks. "We've tried letting sanity take over, and it was a disaster. Perhaps madness should be given a chance. Sanity is vastly overrated and usually leaves to terrible tragedies. Some of the most horrific events in history have been the result of cold, hard sanity."
"Besides," Nurse Fletcher adds, "who really is in a position to say where madness ends and anything else begins?" She smiles, and seconds later there's another banging sound from elsewhere in the asylum, followed by a loud creaking sound, as if the structure of the entire building is starting to become strained.
"I think he might finally be here," Dr. Cole continues. "After all these years of being separated, we're finally going to see one another again. I've been dreading this day for so long, but suddenly I've realized that he and I belong together. I can't complete my work without him, and he can't complete his without me. Why fight it any longer? Apart, we're good, but together, we're the best."
"Who?" I ask, as the entire building starts to shake. "Dronigan? Is Dronigan inside?"
"Not Dronigan," Dr. Cole replies. "The beast. He has finally come up from the depths to claim what is his, and I feel as if it would not be in my best interests to fight him. In fact, it might be worth checking to see if our old friendship is still in place. We used to be quite a team, when we were sane. People would praise us across the seven worlds, and pilgrims would crawl to our desks and beg to be shown our latest creations. Somehow, it seems preposterous that we ever allowed those days to end. Perhaps now we can work together again."
"Okay," I say calmly, taking a step back, "I think I might be -"
"You're not going anywhere," Nurse Fletcher says, grabbing my arm. "You were brought here for a reason, remember?"
"Thanks," I reply, trying to twist free from her grip, "but I think I'll pass." As hard as I struggle, however, I quickly realize that she's got me held firmly, and she's stronger than she looks.
"What do you think she's got in here?" Nurse Fletcher asks, holding me tighter and she grabs my hair and tilts my head back. "Someone went to a lot of trouble to hide something in her skull."
"You're making a mistake," I say firmly, still trying to get loose.
"There's no need to be scared," Dr. Cole continues. "You've already met the beast, so this is more like a big reunion. I'm sure we'll have a lot to talk about as we try to narrow down an appropriate line of treatment for you." He steps closer and stares at me for a moment, as if he's amused by my continued attempt to get free from Nurse Fletcher's grasp. "Trust me," he adds. "Once we've relieved you of your terrible burden, Abigail, you'll be able to live a much easier, much happier life. Who knows?" He leans closer. "You might even be happy at last."
Chapter Five
Felix
Finally, the last leather strap snaps loose from the bed and I sit up. I'm alone in the room, and for a moment I struggle to remember why I feel as if my heart has been broken; after a moment, however, I remember Nurse Silk's face, and I realize that I still have to find a way to make Dr. Cole and Nurse Fletcher pay for what they did to her.
Somewhere in the distance, there's a loud banging sound.
Getting off the bed, I grab a white coat and slip into it, so that at least I'm not naked. My body aches from the most recent experiment, but I manage to shuffle across the laboratory until I reach one of the benches. Various syringes have been left out, next to bottles and containers. Over the years, Dr. Cole has injected me with so many of these liquids, but I still have no idea what they are; sometimes, I feel as if he was just making things up as he went along and trying every idea that came into his head.
No more.
The experiments are over.
My first instinct is to tear this place apart piece by piece, to make sure that no-one can ever use Tor Cliff again. I know enough about the world to understand that even if Dr. Cole and all his assistants are killed, their equipment would one day be found by someone else who would have no hesitation in picking up his cruel work. Still, with time running out, I feel that the best approach is to burn Tor Cliff to the ground and make sure that the entire place ceases to exist. Hell, I'll even salt the ground if that's what it takes.
Turning to head to the door, I hear a scraping sound nearby, but when I turn to look back across the room I don't see any sign of movement. Seconds later, however, I hear the noise again, and I realize that it's coming from a small side-room. As another banging sound echoes through the building, causing the floor to shake, I make my way over to the door in the corner and peer through into the next room, at which point I spot what appears to be a body covered by a white sheet, resting on a table next to the window.
It's her.
It has to be her.
I should have known that Dr. Cole would never have wasted a body. As I step closer to the table, I feel a sense of panic start to fill my soul. I've seen the kind of thing that Dr. Cole does to his victims, both alive and dead, and the thought of Nurse Silk being subjected to his treatment is almost too much to handle. I want to turn and leave, to get the hell out of here and never have to face the horrors that she might have faced, but at the same time I feel as if I have a duty to stay and see the truth. Reaching out to lift the sheet, I try to think back to the way she looked in our brief moments of happiness, and I tense myself in anticipation of what I might be about to see.
"I..." I start to say, but the words stick in the back of my throat. I want to apologize, and to tell her that everything will be okay, and to let her know that I'm here, but at the same time I feel as if none of these things would actually help. The time for action, the time for strength, was when she was still alive and I could really make a difference. Now, however, anything I do is just part of an impotent rage. I can take revenge for her death, and I can make her tormentors pay, but I can't rewind time and bring her back.
I'm too late to save her.
Slowly, I pull the sheet back.
To my surprise, I find that I was wrong; it's not Nurse Silk at all, an
d I stare down instead at the weathered, haggard face of the old woman who used to taunt me from the next cell. Her face is still covered in small scratches, and her eyes seem to have sunk a little further into her skull. Having prepared myself for the sight of injuries and experiments, I'm shocked to realize that Dr. Cole has seemingly left her body alone, despite having had her stored away. I doubt he has any particular plans for her; instead, he's probably planning to treat her corpse as if it's some kind of toy, to be poked and examined in the same way that a child torments something it finds in the yard.
Spotting movement near the side of her mouth, I watch in horror as a small, thin black spider-leg emerges, followed by the rest of the creature. It scuttles down over her chin, onto her neck and across her chest, before stopping suddenly. I've seen so many spiders at Tor Cliff lately, and I'm starting to wonder if maybe the old woman was onto something when she said that they were here for a reason. Reaching down, I carefully grab hold of the spider by one of its legs and hold it up; it wriggles and tries to get free, but I'm determined to see if there's anything unusual about its body. As I look more closely, however, I realize that it just looks like a normal spider.
Glancing down at the old woman's body, I spot movement in one of her eyes, and moments later another spider climbs out. I close my fist and kill the spider that I was holding, before reaching down and killing the second creature too; there's something about these things, and about the way that they always seem to show up whenever anything bad is happening, that worries me. In fact, as I look more closely at the old woman's dead face, I realize that the small cuts could easily have been created by the legs of hundreds of spiders, swarming all over her body in much the same way that they swarmed all over me in my cell.
She was right.
They want something.