Perhaps the substance in his veins was making him more susceptible to this nonsense, or maybe it was his own hubris, but a small part of him found the director’s suggestions tempting.
‘Is that what you are hoping to get out of all of this, Isaac?’ Reid asked. ‘Power and fame? Is that worth all the death and misery you have caused?’
‘Power and fame are not my goals,’ Templeton said as he got to his feet. ‘I look to something beyond that. But consider what I’ve said, Dr. Reid. I think you would be a great addition to our Church, but only the devout can be accepted. However, you now have a special link with the Great Being, so the next time I take you down there, I am hoping your experience will be a little more… enlightening.’
‘I have to go and see that thing again?’
‘Yes. Tonight.’
‘And do I get a say in this?’
Templeton shook his head. ‘Unfortunately not. Feel free to take the day off today. Finish my diary if you like. You can wander the upper level of the asylum, as always, but you understand that you cannot leave.’
‘So either I join your religion or I die here? Not exactly a good way to turn me into a true believer, is it?’
Templeton shrugged. ‘On the contrary, fearing for one's life is often the best way to keep people in line. At least until their minds can finally accept the truth.’
Templeton turned and walked over to the door. ‘You’re insane, you know that?’ Reid told him.
‘Insanity is just perspective, Dr. Reid,’ the director replied. ‘You will see things my way soon enough. Good day.’
And with that, the director left the room.
Reid lay back down in his bed, unable to believe what had happened to him these last few days. His head spun at the madness of it all, and now he was left with two choices: stick to his beliefs and die here, or join a delusional cult and pledge his life to them.
Neither option sounded appealing.
Unless what the director is saying is true?
24
Adrian, like the others, pushed his chair back away from Trevor. If Mother was here, then that meant trouble was not far behind. Adrian looked over to an orderly in the hopes of catching his attention.
‘Seeing you quite a lot lately, boys,’ Trevor said, and Adrian realised that was true. Mother making an appearance two days in a row was unheard of, at least to him. No one answered Trevor, but thankfully one of the orderlies happened to look over, and Adrian, in turn, gave the man a wide-eyed, pleading look, hoping it would be enough to get noticed.
‘I’m feeling a little achy,’ Trevor went on. ‘Something happen to me while I was asleep? One of you boys get a little rough with me?’
Adrian did not want to get caught up in whatever chaos Mother brought with her—not again—so he pushed himself further away. The orderly seemed to take an interest in what was going on and started to walk over. Adrian hoped that he could summon help and be able to restrain Trevor without needing to hurt him, and that the whole thing could be handled with without any violence or injury.
Of course, that was asking too much.
‘Something going on here?’ the orderly asked.
Trevor turned to him and smiled. ‘Oh, you’ll do. Come over here and play with me, boy.’
‘Sit down,’ the orderly snapped. Adrian shook his head. Hadn’t the fool witnessed what had happened the day before? Threats just wouldn’t work.
And they didn’t.
Trevor screamed like a demon and launched himself at the orderly, again kicking and biting in an effort to cause as much damage as possible. They both tumbled to the floor, and Adrian noticed the orderly’s ring of keys spill from his belt as the pair fell. An impulse quickly gripped him—to dash over and grab the keys, hoping he would not be seen. He could potentially use them to escape and get free of this place. But almost as soon as the notion came to him, he quashed it.
There was too much risk.
And, regardless of everything he had witnessed recently, he still didn’t think he deserved his freedom.
Other orderlies ran over to break up the scuffle, and this time Adrian removed himself from the situation as they piled in with their fists and feet, punching and kicking at Trevor, who was hauled from his prey. A ring was formed around the two as the man Trevor had attacked seemed dazed and confused, but—other than some cuts and scratches—not as badly hurt as his last victim.
‘Everyone back!’ one of the orderlies yelled, and everyone in the room dutifully complied, with no repeat of the brawl that had erupted yesterday. Trevor was dragged, kicking, screaming and cursing from the room without further incident.
‘Bunch of cunts,’ he screeched as he was taken from the room. ‘Not a strong dick between the lot of you.’ His voice faded out as he was pulled farther down the corridor outside.
‘Don’t any get any ideas,’ an orderly barked. ‘Keep calm and get back to what you were doing. Anyone tries anything, you’ll follow that madman into isolation. Understand?’
A silence followed and Adrian saw one of the orderlies push Seymour out of the way, retrieving the ring of keys that had been discarded on the floor. After that, it didn’t take long for everyone to disperse, and Adrian and his group re-took their seating positions.
He breathed a sigh of relief. That could have been much worse.
‘That fucker is a liability,’ Seymour said, ‘but he does have his uses.’
‘Uses?’ Sean asked.
‘A good distraction,’ Seymour replied with a big, self-satisfied grin.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Remember what I said before, about finding a way to get out of here? Well, I think I have a plan.’
‘What?’ Adrian asked.
Seymour leaned in close to them and held up his hand. There, in his chubby palm, sat an iron key.
‘How did you get that?’ Sean asked, but Adrian had already pieced it together.
‘Swiped it from the ring the guard dropped,’ he said.
‘If someone finds out you took that—’ Adrian started, but was cut off.
‘But they won’t find out, will they?’ Seymour snapped. ‘Now, guess what this will unlock?’
Adrian knew exactly what it would open, as it looked like the same ones the orderlies used to lock them in their rooms every night.
‘But then what?’ Adrian questioned. ‘So you get free of your room? Where do you go then? You won’t get far.’
‘I’ll get far enough,’ Seymour said. ‘Because I’m willing to do whatever it takes. We all have a chance here.’
‘We?’
‘Are you telling me you just want to stay here when you actually have a chance to escape?’ Seymour turned to Sean. ‘What about you, worm-boy? Fancy getting free of this place and getting some more of that opium you crave so much?’
Sean didn’t seem to consider the proposal for very long before he nodded.
‘I do,’ he said.
‘And you, big fella?’ Seymour asked, looking over at Jack, but the large man quickly shook his head and brought his arms up to hug himself protectively.
‘Come on,’ Seymour pressed, ‘stand up for yourself. Come with us and have a chance at a half-normal life. I’m sure there is a girl as big and dumb as you out there that can make a man out of you.’
‘Leave him alone,’ Adrian said. ‘He isn’t going anywhere.’
‘Keeping him here to die with you, then?’
Adrian didn’t get a chance to reply because an orderly yelled out to them all.
‘Everyone make your way over and get your food, and be quick about it.’
People started to rise obediently, and the hunger Adrian had briefly forgotten about during the fight quickly returned.
‘Well?’ Seymour pressed with an urgent whisper. ‘What about it? You were handy enough with me yesterday. Figure you might be of some use.’
‘I don’t want anything to do with it,’ Adrian said, getting to his feet.
‘Stop being s
o fucking placid,’ Seymour spat. ‘Whatever self-loathing you need to do, do it outside of this prison. Show some backbone.’
‘Just drop it,’ Adrian said.
‘No,’ Seymour replied. ‘Now think hard about this, boy. Tonight, Sean and I are getting out of here. Are you coming with us?’
Adrian didn’t know how to answer that. He didn’t know if he deserved freedom, but he also didn’t fully trust what was going on in this asylum. ‘I’m… I’m not sure.’
‘Well hurry up and make up your mind,’ Seymour hissed. ‘When we’re out, we’ll come to your room. But you’ll only have one chance, so choose wisely. I won’t hang around.’
Adrian spent the rest of the day in the Communal Area, debating the choice in his head. Every so often Seymour would push him on the subject, but Adrian ducked the questions because he genuinely didn’t know how to answer them.
Could he really allow himself to believe that he deserved redemption and a second chance outside of the asylum?
Eventually, night fell, and the patients were all ordered back to their rooms and locked in.
Adrian sat on his bed and continued his internal struggle. In a few hours, he might have the chance to escape this place. He knew the odds were against Seymour and Sean, and the consequences of their actions would be harsh. But what if they made it?
Adrian couldn’t decide if it was a risk worth taking, or if he even wanted his freedom.
The hours rolled on, and Adrian lay on his bed… waiting.
25
Reid’s day had been a slow one, without direction or purpose. The idea of going to work seemed futile considering the position he was now in—any strides he made would be pointless if he wasn’t around to collect the plaudits from the medical community at large.
Instead, he spent the day in his office, sometimes paging through Templeton’s diary—which outlined more of what he now knew about Arlington Asylum and its workings—but mostly daydreaming and staring at the blank walls, weighing up his options.
Surely there was only one answer to give to Templeton. To agree to the offer and live.
But that would mean accepting that he was a prisoner here for the time being, until an opportunity presented itself to escape.
He also considered the substance that was now flowing through his veins—the black liquid that had excreted from the tongue of Robert Wilson. While he didn’t feel ill, exactly—he actually felt healthier and more alert than he had for a long time—Reid did wonder if the substance was poisonous, and if even a small amount would lead to a slow, prolonged death. Still, if Templeton was telling the truth, then the director had the same substance in his blood as well, and he seemed to be suffering no ill effects.
Other than his mental state, perhaps.
As much as Reid was certain that the beliefs Templeton and his followers clung to were fallacies, he still couldn’t explain the things he had seen here, which was maddening to him.
And that was how he spent his day—driving himself crazy and mentally going round and round in circles, waiting for Templeton to show as he promised he would.
Eventually, when night fell, Templeton arrived at Reid’s office and entered without knocking.
‘Have you left this room at all today, Dr. Reid?’
Reid shook his head. ‘Not really.’
‘Well, let us remedy that,’ Templeton said, clapping his hands together. ‘It is time.’
‘To see your old friend again?’
‘That’s right. And I promise it will be a little more enlightening for you this time.’
Reid chuckled. ‘And by that, do you mean I will be violated again?’
Templeton shook his head. ‘That won’t happen. Now, if you will, we should go.’
‘You come alone?’ Reid asked. ‘Thought you would have brought your bodyguard.’
‘Mr. Jones is out in the hallway, along with some other believers who have requested the privilege to go down to the basement.’
‘Privilege? Wow, you people really have your perceptions messed up.’
‘If you don’t mind,’ Templeton said, tapping his foot, ‘there is nothing more to talk about. Now please, let’s go. Otherwise I will have to call in Mr. Jones.’
Reid sighed, but got to his feet. He hated that he was being bullied into this, though he knew he had no choice. Jones was perfectly capable of incapacitating him and carrying him down there if Templeton wished it.
Reid figured he may as well walk under his own volition and prolong an illusion of choice for as long as he could.
‘Fine,’ he said, ‘let’s go.’
‘Excellent,’ Templeton said and, as Reid passed, took hold of his arm. Reid turned to face him as Templeton spoke, making strong eye contact. ‘Keep an open mind tonight,’ he said, ‘because what you will experience will determine your future.’
It was a clear threat.
Reid shrugged Templeton off and stepped out into the hallway, in no way ready for what was to come.
26
Adrian wasn’t sure of the exact hour that Seymour showed up at his door, only that it was the dead of night.
And Adrian had made up his mind.
His hatch dropped open, slowly, as to not make too much noise.
‘Adrian,’ the voice of Seymour whispered through the void.
‘I’m not going,’ Adrian told him, hoping it would be enough to drive Seymour away. He didn’t want an orderly to wander by and associate Adrian with the escape attempt.
‘Why?’ Seymour asked, incredulous.
‘Because it won’t work.’
‘Idiot,’ Seymour seethed in an angry whisper. ‘Fine, stay here and rot. No more than you deserve.’
The hatch slowly closed with a squeak, and Adrian let himself breathe a sigh of relief.
Though that turned out to be premature.
‘Hey,’ a voice called. It wasn’t Seymour, however, but someone farther away. Adrian heard Seymour frantically whisper to someone else—Sean, he assumed—before he heard his door unlock. Seymour and Sean came hurrying into the room, shutting the door behind them.
‘Shit,’ Seymour whispered, looking panicked.
No, no, no.
This couldn’t be happening. Adrian would inevitably get drawn into this and apportioned some of the blame.
‘Get out,’ he said through gritted teeth.
‘Shut up,’ Seymour snapped back. They could all hear quick footsteps approach from farther down the hallway. ‘Shit,’ Seymour said. There was no way to lock the door from the inside and, therefore, no way to stop whoever was approaching from gaining access.
Adrian felt anxiety begin to rise, and his palms began to sweat.
Okay, he thought to himself, no need to panic. Just explain what happened. Get them to believe that you aren’t part of this.
The door swung open, and a large, overweight orderly stood on the other side, cosh in hand, ready to attack.
‘How the hell did you get out?’ he said and stepped inside. Even though there were three of them, he showed no fear of being outnumbered. But then, why would he? Patients were beaten and ground down into submission here. And neither Sean nor Seymour seemed like they had it in them to overpower the orderly. They looked terrified.
‘Please,’ Adrian said, ‘I have nothing to do with this.’
‘Shut up,’ the orderly said. ‘You’re all in trouble. Gonna get taken off to a more secure ward, I reckon. The director has things in place to deal with people like you. And believe me, you’ll be sorry when you see the… therapies… he’ll put you through.’
The orderly sneered as he spoke, relishing the fear he was instilling in them. He walked over, and Seymour and Sean pressed themselves onto the bed, next to Adrian.
‘I didn’t have anything to do with it,’ Adrian repeated.
The only response he got this time was a club from the cosh across the side of his head. The blow hit him so hard it knocked him from the bed to the ground below, and his vision spun.
He heard the sound of a scuffle above, but was too disoriented to know exactly what was happening. He managed to push himself up to his knees, hoping things would soon come back into focus. Another blow hit him, this one to the back of the head, and again he went down. Then another—a kick this time—then punches rained down as the orderly beat him mercilessly. Adrian tried to croak out an explanation, and an apology, in an attempt to make this stop, but nothing would work.
A familiar feeling of helplessness washed over him as the ferocious attack continued. It was as if he were young again, back home, at the hands of his father.
But he had stood up to his father. And upon realising that, another familiar feeling emerged.
Rage.
Anger at the injustice of it all. It bubbled and boiled, coursing through him until it claimed him completely.
‘No!’ he screamed, loud enough to momentarily shock the orderly. Adrian then used this brief pause in the attack to jump to his feet and, with a roar, wrap his hands around the orderly’s throat. The two wrestled and fell to the floor, with Adrian able to position himself on top of the bigger man. He kept his hold on the orderly’s neck and squeezed as hard as he could.
The man fought back and struck Adrian, punching him in the head, but Adrian was overcome with blind fury and barely registered the blows. He tightened his grip, and the guard began to gag.
‘Let… me… go,’ the man wheezed with tears starting to form in his eyes. It started as an order, but Adrian didn’t let up. ‘Please,’ the man added, now begging with Adrian to stop. It felt good to hear the man’s pleas, so Adrian didn’t let up; instead, he pushed the tips of his thumbs down onto the man’s Adam’s apple. The orderly gagged and coughed as Adrian continued to press down as hard as he could.
The cartilage beneath the tips of his thumbs resisted for a moment before he felt a crunch, but still he did not let up, pushing with even more force. The skin gave way, and his thumbs pierced through while the orderly made a horrible, gargling sound. Blood pooled, then ran freely from the wound that opened in his throat. The orderly made a weak attempt to fight back, but it was futile, and Adrian indulged himself further, digging his fingers into the hole he had created.
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