Tormented

by Lee Mountford

That seemed the most sensible idea, so he stuffed the diary into his jacket’s hidden pocket that was cut into the lining.

  He considered taking some of the folders as well, but they were larger and more difficult to conceal. If he ran into anyone on his way back to his office, he would not be able to hide what he was carrying.

  So he shut the drawers, leaving the folders where they were.

  For now.

  Hopefully, the diary would shed a little more light on things for him. Working quickly, Reid locked the drawers and placed the key back beneath the floorboard where he had found it. He flattened out the rug and made sure the chair was back in its correct place, the legs finding the corresponding indentations in the carpet fibres, and quickly strode to the door and looked out.

  Much to his relief, there was no one around.

  Reid then slipped from the room and pulled the door closed behind him. A brisk, uninterrupted walk back down the corridor saw him reach the safety of his own office without discovery. Once inside, and with the door securely locked, he allowed himself a moment to bring his nerves under control. Thieving and sneaking around in the shadows was not his forte—he was a doctor, after all—though he could not help but feel a little delight at his success.

  Reid then walked over to his chair and let himself fall into it. He pulled the diary free and looked at the cracked leather of its cover.

  ‘Now, Director Templeton,’ Reid said to himself, ‘let’s find those answers you were talking about, shall we?’

  13

  While waiting for Director Templeton to show, Adrian took stock of his injuries; he ached everywhere, and suffered acute pain in his chest, ribs, and even his jaw. He dug a finger into his mouth and touched his teeth, feeling that one rear molar had come loose. When he brought the digit back out again, it glistened red, coated in blood.

  Not long after his arrival, Adrian had resigned himself to seeing out his days in Arlington Asylum—suffering in this hell. Existing here was not a pleasant experience, as days seemed to mix in with each other, becoming one long, monotonous cycle of stupefying misery. But he was, in a macabre kind of way, comfortable with that.

  He deserved it.

  But now, given what had happened recently, he had to consider if that sentiment still rang true.

  He was, after all, here of his own volition, and he wondered what the director would say if he decided that he wanted to be set free.

  Adrian cast his mind back to his first meeting with Director Templeton—a moment when Adrian was about to do something rather drastic.

  After filling his belly with booze, using the last of his money, Adrian took himself down a dark alley in the bustling, uncaring city. The public house he had come from was a place for the lower echelons of society to gather, but with its roaring fire and friendly chatter it was at least a warm place. What he needed now, however, was somewhere cold and forgotten. Somewhere he could bleed out from this world, unnoticed. With a blade tucked into his hand, he found a suitable narrow alleyway, which was dark and secluded—perfect for his needs. His body would probably remain there for a few days, unfound, but this dirty, cobbled corner of the earth was as good a resting place as any for him.

  Adrian walked far enough into the alley that no one passing by the main street would be able to see him. He leaned against the cold brick wall, slid down to his rear, and pulled free the blade from the shaving knife—dull and rusty as it was. He put it to his wrist and took a breath as he prepared to slice.

  ‘Things really that bad?’ a voice said.

  Adrian pulled the blade away and spun his head, instantly embarrassed at getting caught in the act. He was confused as to exactly why it embarrassed him, but he quickly folded the blade away and tucked it into the pocket of his old, worn coat.

  ‘Who’s there?’ Adrian asked, struggling not to slur his words with the amount of alcohol that swam in his system. He squinted into the darkness to see the silhouette of an approaching figure coming towards him from the main street.

  ‘Don’t be alarmed,’ the well-spoken man said. ‘But I see a chap disappear into a dark alley, holding an ill-concealed blade in his hand, and I have to worry about what his intentions are. I didn’t see you follow anyone down here, so I assume you plan to do something rather foolish to yourself. Am I correct?’

  ‘Leave me alone,’ Adrian replied, in no mood for discussion. He just wanted to be left in peace to slice his wrists open and bleed out on the ground.

  ‘Oh, come now,’ the mystery person said. ‘What sort of man would I be if I did that? I have a feeling you are in need of help. Let me guess, down on your luck?’

  Adrian just shook his head as the man came closer, stepping out of the shadows. He was advanced in years, with grey hair and a friendly face. He wore a thick coat, and Adrian could make out dark robes beneath. ‘What would you know?’ Adrian asked.

  ‘More than you think, actually,’ the man said. His voice was friendly, almost chipper. ‘You could say I’m an expert in this field.’

  ‘An expert in misery?’ Adrian asked, not bothering to hide the sarcastic tone in his voice.

  ‘You could say that, yes.’ The man walked up to Adrian and squatted down before him. He gave Adrian a smile, one that attempted to be warm, friendly, and understanding. However, Adrian sensed the kind expression was rather rehearsed and not quite genuine. ‘I work with people who are suffering, people with nowhere else to turn. People like you.’

  ‘You don’t know me,’ Adrian said. ‘You don’t know anything about me.’

  ‘Well, that is only partly true. But I know you are suffering. A man tries to take his life in an isolated, miserable place like this alley? That tells me you are also alone in life. It tells me you have no one to turn to. Hence, you feel this is the only way out.’

  ‘It is the only way out,’ Adrian said. ‘It’s what I deserve.’

  ‘No,’ the man said, firmly. ‘It isn’t. You only think it is. And you only think that because you can’t see any other options. But there are options, my friend. There are people out there who can and will help you.’

  ‘People like you, I assume?’ Adrian asked, and then he looked closer at the strange man and saw a white collar beneath his coat.

  ‘Indeed,’ the man replied. ‘I appreciate that you will be skeptical of what I’m about to tell you, but I would ask you to hear me out. In my work I deal with misery and mental disorders on a daily basis. I help people who are suffering from… how should I put this… non-physical ailments? And I have developed a medicine that is, if I may say so, ahead of its time. It is showing results that many doctors around the world have only dreamed of achieving. And it is actually making people better, I tell you.’

  ‘Wait, aren’t you a priest or something?’ Adrian asked, pointing to the collar. ‘I’ve never heard of priests developing medicines.’

  ‘Well, now you have,’ the man said. ‘And this medicine can work for you. It can make you better.’

  ‘I don’t want to be made better,’ Adrian insisted. ‘I want to be left alone.’

  ‘I don’t believe that,’ the man said. ‘I don’t believe you’ve done anything so bad that you don’t deserve a second chance.’

  ‘You don’t know what I’ve done.’

  ‘Not yet, but I will soon enough, I’d wager. And I guarantee that no matter what it is that you think is so heinous, I will have heard worse. And I promise you, I have cured people who have done worse. You don’t have to suffer with this guilt.’

  Adrian studied the man’s face, looking for some hint that would give him away, reveal the lie, but he seemed serious and genuine.

  ‘Come on,’ the man pressed. ‘Considering what you were about to do, what do you have to lose?’

  That struck a chord with Adrian. After a long moment of silence, he answered. ‘Nothing, I suppose.’

  ‘Indeed,’ the man replied. ‘You come with me and you have a chance at a better life. If I fail in what I’m offering, then you are free to walk
away and, should you still want to, end things as you wish. In fact, I could probably offer something that would not hurt as much as what you were planning. It would be like dropping off into a deep sleep.’

  Adrian shook his head, confused. ‘Just what kind of priest are you?’

  The man held out his hand. ‘One offering you help,’ he said.

  Adrian didn’t shake, not straight away; instead he rolled the offer over in his mind.

  Could it be possible? A way out from his misery?

  Did he even deserve that?

  Eventually, Adrian took the hand.

  ‘You won’t regret this,’ the man said with a grin. ‘And allow me to introduce myself. My name is Isaac Templeton.’

  ‘Adrian James,’ Adrian told him as they shook.

  Mr. Templeton widened his smile.

  After that, Adrian left the alleyway with his new acquaintance and was taken to a facility—an asylum—just outside of the city, tucked away in a large, wooded area.

  And so began his stay.

  During his first consultation with Templeton—in the facility’s Chapel, rather than the director’s office—Adrian learned that Templeton was the director of the asylum and that everyone here reported to him. Of all the people who could have found him in that alleyway, it just so happened to be this man.

  Was that luck, or something more? Could it be that fate had handed Adrian a second chance?

  However, it didn’t take Adrian long to detect that there was something very wrong with the people in the asylum. That was obvious of the other patients, but it also held true of the staff.

  After his first few days it became clear that all was not as it seemed, and he seriously doubted that Director Templeton’s promises would come to fruition.

  But then again, it did not concern him too much. This place would offer him a miserable existence, which was exactly what he deserved.

  ‘My associate here tells me that you wish to speak to me, Adrian?’ Director Templeton asked.

  With Jones behind him, the director looked down at Adrian from the doorway of the isolation room, but without the normal expression of warmth that he had held in past meetings between the two. Nor did he look shocked at the bloody and beaten state Adrian was in.

  ‘Yes,’ Adrian said, still nursing his jaw.

  ‘He tells me you have something to say about last night?’ the director went on, then cocked his head to one side. ‘What could you possibly have to tell me that is so interesting, I wonder?’

  ‘I’m sure you already have an idea,’ Adrian said. ‘There was an attack in my ward last night. Happened right outside of my room.’

  ‘Is that so?’ the director asked, clearly acting coy.

  ‘It is. And during that attack, the hatch on my door was knocked open. And do you know what I saw when I looked out?’

  ‘Enlighten me,’ the director said, taking a step inside the room. Jones grabbed his arm.

  ‘Director, I’d rather you—’

  ‘It’s quite all right, Mr. Jones,’ Director Templeton said, giving a nonchalant wave of his hand. ‘I do not think Adrian here intends to try anything stupid.’ He then turned back to Adrian. ‘Do you?’

  Adrian shook his head. ‘No. I don’t want to cause any trouble.’

  ‘You are here for a reason, inmate,’ Jones said. ‘Attacking another patient is not something we tolerate.’

  ‘Is that right?’ the director asked with a smile. ‘Is that what happened?’

  Adrian looked away. ‘I guess so.’

  ‘Interesting. I don’t recall you being violent in here before. Did something happen?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ Adrian said.

  ‘I think it does,’ the director replied. ‘It matters very much. I wonder what caused you to regress. To become the monster that you are trying so hard to outrun.’

  ‘I think you are focusing on the wrong thing,’ Adrian said. ‘I saw exactly what was loose in the halls last night. And I saw it pull the head from the body of one of your men.’

  Director Templeton chuckled. ‘I’m sorry, Adrian, but it sounds like the medication has been giving you some rather vivid dreams. But you were aware that this could be a side effect. Quite frankly, I’m surprised you have let it confuse you so.’

  Adrian shook his head. ‘This wasn’t a dream. I was as awake as I am now. And I know what I saw.’

  ‘I’m afraid you are mistaken. I can say for certain that there are no monsters running around our asylum, Adrian. If there were, would today just carry on as normal around here? Come on, my friend, just think about what you are saying.’

  ‘Where’s Malcolm?’ Adrian asked. ‘I haven’t seen him today.’

  ‘He has been moved,’ Director Templeton said, without skipping a beat. ‘Unfortunately, his condition was worsening, so we needed to relocate him to a ward where we could pay closer attention to him.

  ‘I don’t believe you,’ Adrian said.

  Director Templeton simply shrugged. ‘Whether you do or do not is of no consequence. But I am telling you the truth. Now, are we finished here? I have a lot to do today.’

  Adrian paused for a moment before asking the question that was playing on his mind. ‘I came here of my own free will. What if I said I wanted to leave?’

  ‘Leave? The facility?’

  Adrian nodded. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Is this a hypothetical question, or do you actually want to throw away the progress you have made?’

  ‘I’m not certain,’ Adrian said, honestly.

  ‘Either way, the answer remains the same. Given your recent, violent outburst, I do not believe I could release you in good conscience. I believe you would be a danger to others. So, your request would be declined.’

  Adrian had expected that answer. ‘You would keep me here against my will?’

  ‘Until you are better, yes,’ the director said. ‘Speaking of which, I think it would be a good idea to step up our efforts with you. We will administer more medicine tomorrow, and at a much higher dosage.’ He paused, before adding, ‘And I expect to see great results. But for now, I must be on my way. You can spend a little more time in here thinking on your actions, Mr. James.’

  With that, Director Templeton turned and left the room. He stopped next to Jones and addressed the man while looking back at Adrian.

  ‘Come along, Mr. Jones,’ the director said. ‘I wish to discuss something with you.’

  The door to the isolation room was closed and locked, leaving Adrian alone.

  In truth, ever since he had first set foot into Arlington Asylum, Adrian had suspected that he would never be allowed to leave. There was something off here, but at the time he honestly hadn’t cared.

  But now, after what he witnessed the previous night, and hearing Director Templeton actually confirm his suspicions, Adrian was conflicted.

  Any illusion of free will that he had been subconsciously holding onto was now shattered. He was a prisoner here.

  And he would die here.

  14

  Director Templeton’s diary was a find indeed.

  It started at the turn of that year, 1954, on the eighth of February, and from the way it was written Reid guessed that earlier records were in previous diaries. In the first entry, the asylum was in full operation, and it made mention of a head physician—one Christopher Vine.

  8th February 1954

  Things are progressing well here. My one concern is Mr. Vine. Whilst his knowledge in his field seems second to none, he is a somewhat ethical man, which means pushing our patients to their limits is difficult with his involvement. Still, he is proving useful in helping us develop our methods, and it is thanks to him that we will soon be able to administer the substance to patients in a more efficient manner than ingestion. Of course, he would not have divulged the information needed if he knew our intentions, but I was able to coerce out of him the best way to efficiently administer a foreign liquid into a person’s bloodstream without causing unforeseen complic
ations.

  He is also training my brothers who accompany me on my mission here at Arlington Asylum on this method, thinking it would be used for blood transfusions. Though perhaps that isn’t too far from the truth.

  As helpful as he has been, I fear his moral compass may provide a problem in the near future if we are not able to make him see and believe in what we are trying to achieve.

  That would be no small feat, as I remember my own reluctance in accepting the truth—such was my ingrained and short-sighted way of thinking. I thought I knew for certain how the world, and beyond, should exist.

  Still, for the short term, we shall carry on as we are.

  Reid continued to thumb through the diary, looking for passages in the immaculate hand-writing that could be of interest. It was not an easy task, as time was against him—given it was still the middle of the day—and he had work to be getting on with. Not only that, Templeton would likely be returning to his office shortly and, while Reid had no intention of returning the diary any time soon, if the director discovered it was gone, Reid imagined he would be one of the first people questioned about its disappearance.

  He was prepared to lie his way through this, of course, and planned to keep the diary with him and read more tonight, hopefully undisturbed; but for now, he felt an urge to discover as much as he could in the short space of time he had.

  A number of names popped up throughout the various passages, and the former head physician was a constant presence. However, there was another that was mentioned a number of times.

  Robert Wilson.

  15th February 1954

  I paid a visit to my old friend Robert today.

  Sharing the same space as him is always a sombre, wondrous, and even frightening experience. To be in the presence of such a being, in whatever incarnation this could be classified, never fails to instill in me a sense of awe and a feeling of insignificance when compared to the entities and intelligences we now know to exist somewhere beyond our understanding.