by Amy Cross
“So she was trying to draw you here?” Grace asked.
“Not only that,” Leonora replied, turning to her. “She has far grander plans. Nobody in this prison is here by accident. Elenora brought each one of the inmates here by design, and in some cases she made them pay a terrible price. She has been influencing the lives of everyone in this prison for many, many years.”
Fifteen years ago
“Deborah,” she said with a smile, reaching out to shake her new roommate's hand. “Deborah Bell.”
“Julie,” the other girl replied with a grin. “Julie Bond. Are you studying mathematics as well?”
“Medicine,” Deborah said as she set her suitcase down on one of the beds. “Long-haul.”
“Wow,” Julie said, watching as she began to unpack, “that's so cool. You must be pretty smart, huh?”
“I don't know about that.”
“Do you drink?”
“I...” Deborah paused. “I do, sometimes. In moderation. When there's a special occasion.”
“A group of us are going to a bar down the street tonight,” Julie continued with a grin. “Do you wanna come? My friend Rachel knows this guy who's been living around here for a few years, so he's gonna show us all the cool places. It's gonna be, like, a crash course in getting wasted.” As she spoke, she took a cigarette from the desk and lit it, before taking a slow drag.
“I don't think you're allowed to smoke in here,” Deborah pointed out.
“Oh, it's okay, I disabled the smoke alarm. Don't worry, this is only regular tobacco, although I think Rachel's friend might know where to get hold of something a little stronger, if you know what I mean. Do you smoke weed?”
“I've never tried it.”
“Wanna?”
“I... will have to think about that.”
“Bit stiff?”
“I'm sorry?”
“You seem a bit stiff,” Julie continued, eying her up and down, “like... No offense, but you seem kinda awkward.”
“Sorry, I'm just tired.”
“Well I've got to be somewhere,” Julie replied, “but I'll be back later and we can head down to the bar together and un-stiffen you. Deal?”
“Sure,” Deborah said, forcing herself to be far more sociable than she would have preferred. “That sounds great.”
Once Julie had left the room, Deborah stood for a moment and looked around at her new home. Having for the most part led a fairly sheltered life so far, she felt out of sorts now that she was living in a student block, but at the same time she knew that it was the only affordable option. Taking a seat on the end of the bed, she looked down at her hands and reminded herself that all the discomfort was bearable so long as it allowed her to achieve her great goal in life: she'd dreamed since childhood of being a surgeon, and now she was well on the way.
Spotting movement nearby, she turned to look at the door, only to see to her shock that a familiar figure was standing outside in the corridor.
“You followed me?” she asked, getting to her feet and crossing the room. Looking down at the little girl, she felt a pang of regret as she realized that getting away from home had not, as she'd hoped, ended the strange visitor's interest in her life. “I don't know what you want, and I don't know why you keep following me, but I don't have time to sit around making guesses. You're just a figment of my imagination, so if you don't mind...”
With that, she pushed the door shut, before turning to look back across the cramped dorm-room.
“A new start,” she whispered to herself. “I'm not going to do bad things anymore. From this moment on, I'm going to be a good person for the rest of my life.”
Today
“Calm down, ladies!” Ferguson shouted as the lights flickered and he struggled with the control console. “I'm sure this all seems very funny to you, but it won't in the morning when I start taking away privileges!”
As he jabbed at one of the buttons, every door on the wing clicked shut for a moment and the locking mechanisms engaged, only for them to unlock seconds later. On a nearby wall, the status lights were blinking furiously, as if they were completely out of control.
“Fucking technology,” he muttered, as the lights flickered again. “Give me a simple key and lock any day. At least a key can't get short-circuited.”
“It's the same on all the other wings,” reported another guard, hurrying through. “Something's messing with the security system.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “You know what this means, right? We've literally got no way to keep the prisoners in their cells overnight!”
“What's going on out there?” shouted one of the women. “Are you gonna let us get our beauty sleep tonight or what?”
“This is what you get,” Ferguson said wearily, “when a bunch of cheapskates try to tack twenty-first century technology onto a Victorian building. Do you know there's even a safety release switch in the basement? One turn to lock every door in the building.”
“We might need that soon,” the other guard replied.
“Problem is, it also works the other way. It can unlock all the doors as well.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“Makes you feel safe, doesn't it?”
“I don't fancy going down to the basement unless I have to,” the other guard muttered. “The lights are out, plus when it rains all the water drains down there and starts flooding the place.”
“Great,” Ferguson sighed. “I'm gonna go and see what they know in the governor's office, so you stay here and keep trying the console. And if you hear anyone causing trouble, note their name down. I'm not gonna have these women using a technical balls-up as an excuse to let their hair down.”
***
“What do you think's happening out there?” Amanda asked, turning to look over at the door as she heard some of the other prisoners jeering. “It seems like the doors are malfunctioning.”
Robin smiled uneasily, not looking up from the book she was reading on the other bunk.
“It's like -”
Before Amanda could continue, the lights flickered again, while outside the storm could be heard getting stronger and stronger.
“I don't like it,” Amanda said after a moment. “Something seems -”
“You're in a prison!” Robin replied suddenly, clearly annoyed. “Jesus Christ, woman, are you expecting bloody luxury conditions?”
Amanda stared at her for a few seconds. “Sorry,” she said finally.
Robin glanced nervously at the door.
“Did I do something to offend you?” Amanda asked. She waited for an answer, but none came. “Listen,” she continued, “I just -”
“Did you think people wouldn't find out?” Robin replied suddenly.
“About what?”
“About why you're in here.”
“I...” Pausing, Amanda began to realize that her cellmate's animosity was genuine. “I thought...”
“There's a lot of different types in here,” Robin continued, setting her book down and getting up from her bunk. “Thieves, murderers, all sorts, it's a real mixed bag, and we all sorta bump along with each other, but... There's one thing that everyone's agreed on, and that's that people who hurt kids are the lowest of the low. I'm sorry, I tried to ignore what you did, but when the others got wind of the truth... That kind of settled matters, if you know what I mean. If they think I'm being soft on you, I'll end up getting just as much grief.”
“I get that,” Amanda replied nervously, “you think I'm some kind of monster, it's just -”
Before she could finish, she heard a noise over by the door, and she turned to see it slipping open as a handful of inmates entered. Immediately getting to her feet, Amanda began to back away.
“Figured we should do it now,” said Karen, one of the women who had just entered. “We were planning to jump her in the yard, but tonight seems like as good a chance as any. Heaven sent, you might say. I guess God wants us to finish things off.”
“I'm sorry, honey,” Robin
said to Amanda. “This is just how it goes in a place like this. No-one wants a kid killer around, it lowers the tone and even scum like us have got standards. You seem like a nice enough kid, but this is just the way things work in here.”
“The guards are distracted,” one of the other women added. “They're running around like headless chickens, so we should have plenty of time. They're not gonna get nothing fixed for a while yet. I reckon the storm must've flooded the generator room like it did last month. This whole fucking place is falling apart, took 'em a couple of hours to get it fixed when it happened before.”
“Don't do it in here,” Robin told her.
“You not joining in?” Karen asked.
“For fuck's sake, she's my cellmate. I can't afford to get implicated, can I?”
“What are you going to do?” Amanda asked, her heart racing as she backed all the way into the corner. “If you want me to keep away from you all, I can do that! I can request a transfer to another wing!”
“Why'd you kill 'em?” one of the women asked as they made their way toward her. “Why'd you kill those two innocent little babies?”
“I... I don't know,” Amanda stammered. “I don't remember the exact -”
“You don't remember?” Karen replied. “Oh, well that's convenient, isn't it? That way, you can still hope to get some sympathy, right? Play the old amnesia card. You must take us for idiots. Sorry, love, but we're not like the bleeding heart lawyers and judges you came up against before. Now you're in here with us, things work a bit different. Justice is quick and fair.”
“What was it like when you sliced them open?” asked one of the others. “Did you get a kick out of it?”
“Please, I don't remember the -”
“I don't remember!” Karen hissed, mimicking Amanda's tone. “Poor little me, I murdered my babies but no-one can really get mad at me 'cause I don't remember it!”
“What do you want,” asked one of the other women, “a cuddle?”
“Just get it over with,” Robin said darkly. “Do what you've gotta do, but don't turn it into some kind of jolly. There's a fine line between justice and a bloodthirsty crowd.”
“What are you going to do?” Amanda asked. “Are you going to hurt me?”
“Make it quick,” Robin told Karen. “I know she doesn't deserve it, but no-one likes hearing a bunch of screams.”
“Showers?” one of the other women suggested.
“Showers,” Karen replied. “Robin's right. We're doing this 'cause it's our duty. Doesn't mean we're gonna enjoy it.”
“Please,” Amanda said, with tears in her eyes, “whatever you're planning -”
“You'll find out,” Karen told, her stepping closer.
“Help me,” she begged, turning to Robin. “Please, you have to do something!”
Robin shook her head.
“Help!” Amanda shouted, trying to push past before two of the women grabbed her and clamped their hands over her mouth, holding her tight as she struggled. Desperately trying to get free, she finally let out a gasp of pain as her head was pulled back by the hair and one of the other women punched her in the belly.
“Let's get this show on the road,” Karen said as Amanda was dragged toward the door. One of the other women leaned out to check that the corridor was clear, before the rest of them bundled Amanda away.
“Make it quick!” Robin called after them. “I mean it!”
“What do you care?” Karen asked, turning to her. “You know what she did. Why should anyone show her any mercy?”
“Yeah, but...”
“What's wrong? You feel sorry for her?”
“I just got to know her a bit, that's all.”
“But that was before you knew what she did, right? You didn't know before the rest of us?”
“Of course I didn't, but -”
“I get that you don't want to join in,” Karen replied, interrupting her as the lights flickered again, “but don't get all holier than thou on the rest of us. Some of the other girls are already talking about why you're not coming with us. I've managed to cut the gossip out so far, but there's only so much I can do. Try not to let people think you're sympathizing with the bitch.”
Robin opened her mouth to reply, but the words seemed to catch in her throat.
“Exactly,” Karen added finally. “Now if you'll excuse me, the rest of us have got some scum to get rid of.”
Once she was alone, Robin sat on the edge of her bed and stared down at her trembling hands. After a moment, she looked over at Amanda's empty bed and tears began to roll down her cheeks.
“Alright,” Ferguson said suddenly, opening the door, “ladies, we -”
He paused as soon as he saw that Robin was alone.
“Where's your cellmate?” he asked.
Robin turned to him.
“Where's your cellmate?” he barked.
“I don't know,” she said finally, wiping away her tears. “Don't ask me, 'cause I can't tell you anything.”
***
“Break it up!” shouted one of the guards as he raced into the shower unit, only to be confronted by half a dozen angry inmates huddled in the corner. “Who gave you permission to be out of your cells?”
“Give us another minute,” one of the women replied, turning to him. “We're just -”
Before she could finish, a cry of pain erupted from somewhere in the huddle.
“Everyone out of here now!” the guard shouted, as one of his colleagues ran through to help pull the inmates away. “What are -”
Stopping as he pulled the last of the women back, he stared down in horror at the crumpled heap on the floor. Blood was flowing from a heavy wound on the side of Amanda's face and running down the drain, while a makeshift knife had been left sticking out from the side of her torso.
“She had it coming,” one of the women said proudly. “After what she did to those kids, she had this coming from the moment she walked through the fucking door.”
Fifteen years ago
“Debbie!” the guy shouted, leaning toward her so he could be heard above the music. “What are you drinking?”
“I'm fine,” she replied, “I'm still on my first.”
“Come on, you need to keep up!”
“I'm not really used to drinking so much.”
“That's okay,” he said, patting her on the back, “everyone has to start somewhere, right? Don't worry, I know a drink you'll love. Wait right here!”
“Dan!” She tried to argue with him, but he was already pushing his way through the crowd, heading no doubt for the bar.
“He likes you,” Julie said, nudging her arm.
“I'm not really into that sort of thing,” she replied.
“Why not? Oh my God, are you into girls?”
“No! I just... I don't have time for relationships.”
“Not even a one-night kinda relationship? Dan's pretty hot.”
“I'll pass,” she replied, preferring not to go into the details. She'd always known that she could never sustain a relationship, that her natural instincts would come out, and she preferred to keep herself to herself. Glancing across the bar, she saw the main door and found herself longing for the moment when she could slip away and go home to read and then sleep.
“Killer!” Dan said suddenly, setting a drink down in front of her.
“I'm sorry?”
“That's the name of this drink! Killer!” He smiled. “It's good for loosening you up a bit, yeah? Gets you all supple and limber, less... stiff.”
“I think I should go,” she replied, turning away.
“Don't you dare!” Julie hissed, grabbing her by the arm and physically turning her back to face them again.
Smiling awkwardly, Deborah suddenly felt a familiar tightening sensation in the pit of her stomach. She knew what would happen next, and within seconds her mind was inexplicably filled with horrific images of Dan being brutally murdered. Frozen in shock, she imagined him being tortured and abused in the
most awful ways possible, each time in excruciating detail, until finally she realized that someone was trying to speak to her.
“Debbie?” Dan said, nudging her arm. “Are you okay? You look kinda pale.”
“I'm fine,” she stammered, pulling free and grabbing her bag before pushing her way through the crowd. “I have to go!” she called back to them, although she had no idea whether they heard her.
By the time she managed to fight through the sea of bodies and emerge in the street, she was feeling breathless and disorientated, and she had to take a moment to regather her composure. The images had stopped flooding her mind, but she still remembered each and every one of them in excruciating detail.
“It's going to happen again,” she whispered, horrified by the prospect. “It's all going to happen again.”
Today
“She doesn't believe me, does she?” Leonora Blake asked as Grace wheeled her into the kitchen. “She thinks I'm a mad old woman ranting about the past.”
“Doctor Bell is a very rational woman,” Grace replied, stopping the wheelchair by the table before heading over to fetch a glass of water. She looked up at the ceiling as the lights flickered again. “I think she struggles to accept that something like this could be real. I don't know her very well, but I get the impression she sees things in very black and white terms.”
“But you accept it, don't you?”
“I...” Grace checked her phone and brought up Andrew's number, but when she tried to call she was put straight through to voice-mail. “I don't know, I -”
“You've seen something in the past?”
“I don't know. Maybe... I've definitely heard things.” She paused, aware that she should say more. “Like a child was running in the corridors.”
“Elenora always loved to play. When we were young, before I was taken away from here, we used to have all these wonderful games. There were no toys, of course, but we had nothing to do all day so we invented our own amusement. Sometimes we even hid and watched the prisoners from the windows in the administrative buildings. It all sounds so strange now, almost like a dream, and it's hard to believe that it happened more than a century ago. Sometimes I think...” She paused. “Well, sometimes I think the only reason I've clung to life for so long is that I was waiting for the right moment to come back and see my sister again.”