Magda: A Darkly Disturbing Occult Horror Trilogy - Book 3

by Sarah England

  “I don’t think I’d be here either if it wasn’t for the fact that a senior registrar was on locum duty the night Alice was re-admitted. I’d worked with him before and he remembered me; so I agreed to come and do the assessment, then basically fought to stay on because I was so concerned. This is clear-cut RSA and Alice needs specialist help: I was most vociferous and threatened to make a big fuss. Fortunately the ward sister, Isobel, backed me and so here I am. I work privately as well as for the NHS and I’m on contract for this one – we sometimes get grants from various charities. Anyway, the consultant really doesn’t want me here so the appointment is very tenuous.”

  “Sounds like he’s got a control freak problem.”

  “You’ve got that right. Pretty rich when he’s a psychiatrist, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Oh, the stories I could tell,” Becky said. “If only they could diagnose themselves.”

  “Me too…we should have a drink one day and swap horrors. Mind you, there are some weird nurses around as well.”

  Becky laughed.

  They watched Alice select plastic spiders and snakes to put in the box with her victim, before taping it up – with some difficulty because she had odd, crooked fingers that seemed too long for her delicate hands. Rocking to and fro as she worked, the growling noise emanating from her throat was both threatening and aggressive.

  She was a lot smaller than most thirteen year old girls, with almost no signs of puberty. The resemblance to Ruby was startling: fine hair the colour of weak tea hanging around her face, alabaster skin so transparent the blue veins were visible around her temples and jaw line; and she had those same ice-blue eyes all the Deans had. Also like Ruby, Alice was trying to make herself as small and unnoticeable as possible - physically retreating into her shell, hunching into her body and avoiding eye contact - as she blocked out the world, rocking and growling.

  “She upsets the others with that,” Judy said, “That growling. They said she skitters around on all fours sometimes like she’s a dog, particularly at night.”

  Becky frowned, watching the girl dig a hole in the sandpit Judy had provided, before proceeding to bury the little coffin.

  “Hello Alice?”

  Alice ignored her.

  “Alice? My name’s Becky. I wanted to say hello to you, to check you’re okay. Can you say my name?”

  “She’s been given a prosthesis but she won’t use it,” Judy said. “I don’t think she wants to talk to us today, do you Alice?”

  On the table an array of toys had been set out – but hardly normal toys. Judy had supplied items which allowed Alice to express what had happened to her without having to answer questions directly. That her tongue had been removed had certainly stopped her from exposing secrets, but it seemed this girl was every bit as mentally damaged as her mother.

  Becky’s eyes filled with tears. She looked away. Dear God, what had these awful people done? This child should be out rollerblading or shopping in town like all the other girls her age – talking about the latest clothes and pop music downloads. And to think she’d come into hospital under the protection of officers only to be left with such little help. What bloody incompetence! And from people who were well trained and paid from the public purse. God, it made her so mad. Her glance fell to the hideous toys – plastic insects, imitation syringes, lengths of string, and a small plastic camera.

  She nodded towards a toy knife. “I take it she’s acting out what they did to her?”

  “I’m afraid so. Actually, it’s taken me weeks to get this far. She’s not supposed to ‘tell’ anyone, you see? Especially a therapist. We’re the most dangerous of the lot.”

  “How so?”

  Judy glanced at the clock on the wall and said to Alice, “Have you had enough for today, Alice? Shall we let the girl out of the box now? She hasn’t done anything wrong, has she?”

  Alice shook her head, rocking so hard on the chair it was going to topple over.

  “Is this what they did to you?”

  No response.

  “You know it’s wrong what they did?”

  The rocking stopped dead. As did the growling.

  “You’re not there anymore, Alice. You are safe now.” Judy reached out to lightly smooth away a strand of Alice’s hair but the girl flinched violently.

  “It’s okay. I won’t touch your hair if you don’t like that.”

  Alice turned to stare out of the window again, humming again but more softly, her gaze distant and glassy.

  “You are not there anymore, Alice. You are here now and you are safe in hospital. Alice – look at me, Alice.”

  Slowly, the child turned around, peeping through her hair.

  “You don’t have to trust me – that’s for you to decide – but if you want a hug I’m here.” She opened her arms. “Would you like to hug?”

  To Becky, the miserable nod was all too familiar. This child had never been loved. Never. It seemed Judy had gained a glimmer of trust though, because Alice suddenly clung to her. Minutes ticked by and still she held on, refusing to unfasten her grip from Judy’s neck.

  “Okay, okay. I’m here.”

  A gravelly noise erupted from Alice’s throat, which sounded like, “Promise…”

  “Yes. I promise. Now come on, let’s get you to your room for a lie down.”

  Becky tagged behind, as Alice held onto Judy all the way down the corridor. Clearly she was behaving just like Ruby, having regressed into a toddler personality with powerful attachment needs. Once in bed she rolled onto her side and stuck her thumb in her mouth, tears drying on her cheeks.

  “She’ll be like that for a few hours now,” Judy said. “Come on, let’s go and have a proper chat.”

  ***

  “Honestly, it’s so emotional, so draining – this job can really take it out of you,” Judy said as they walked into the staff kitchen. She shut the door behind them. “Unfortunately, one of the methods these people use to keep children from talking is to instil a fear of therapists, nurses, teachers, policemen – anyone in authority, basically,” she said, switching on the kettle and rooting around for cups. “The message is simple, ‘Tell anyone and you’ll be tortured or forced to torture another child.’ What they do is encourage the victim to confess to one of the sect, who will be dressed in uniform or pretend to be a kindly therapist. The treachery is then exposed and the torture begins. It’s designed to be so bad, so painful and so terrifying that the child will never tell a living soul ever again: we’re talking about near drowning; taping their eyes open and spinning them round for hours…forced ingestion of human excreta… Oh, it’s easy to destroy trust and that’s how they do it.”

  “Have you worked on many cases of ritual abuse?”

  “I’ve studied and worked in this field for over twenty years now; spent time in Australia and the United States, too. We have to remember the survivors are the clever ones, and in the minority. I can’t afford to get angry, though, I just have to try and help the kids who made it through all that, to function and find some kind of peace.”

  “Oh God, poor Alice. It’s evil beyond all belief, isn’t it?”

  “Sure is.”

  “So what happened at the foster home, do you know?”

  “It went badly wrong as you can imagine. From what Dr Mullins told me – and he was quite dismissive, make no mistake this was not up for discussion – Alice had done well in speech therapy and after several assessments was deemed by him to be making good progress. Her notes say she was uncommunicative, vague and superficial in character, but beginning to improve in terms of washing herself, eating properly and taking her medication…”

  “Which was?”

  “A mild sedative.”

  “That’s all?”

  “Yes. But remember Alice will have learned a long time ago to comply with anyone in authority. Compliance equals survival, so of course she would have seemed acquiescent when she was both on a sedative and trying to protect herself. That didn’t mean she di
dn’t need help. Anyway, she was fostered out.”

  “And the whole team was in agreement?”

  “Apparently.” Judy handed Becky a mug of coffee.

  “Lovely, thanks.”

  “Does Ruby have DID too?”

  “Yes. Very poly-fragmented, but I don’t think she was subjected to mind-programming. There aren’t any indications of it, anyway.”

  “Are her fingers normal?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you notice Alice’s? They used mousetraps on them as a form of punishment. And she screams the place down when the telephone rings – runs and hides under the table shaking and rocking. They will have convinced her that they know when she’s telling tales and the ringing phone is to let her know they know. Her drawings show eyes inside her own head: they’ve told her they can read her thoughts and know everything she thinks, says and does. It takes a very long time, if ever, before a person abused in this way will ever tell another living soul because they truly believe they will be tortured or killed if they do. You have to give them time to gradually realise they’re safe and the bad people were lying. So you see, since I came along she’s actually become more demonstrative – in other words it looks as though her behaviour is going downhill, when in fact it’s the direct opposite and we are only now beginning to make progress.”

  “Do you think Ruby might have gone through this kind of programming too, at least to some extent?”

  Judy narrowed her eyes. “Well, she grew up with the same family involved with the same satanic cult, but from what you said on the phone I’m not sure. This is quite sophisticated, you see, so it could be more recent. Someone knew precisely how to manipulate Alice’s alter personalities – how to get them to betray, kick and abuse her. She’s terrified of letting them out.”

  “How do they kick and abuse her?”

  “Sudden migraine attacks. Sudden pain in her stomach or chest. She’ll draw a picture of a hob nailed boot and an angry face; oh, and eyes – so many liquid, black eyes – and knives that twist and turn inside her. Alice has some ferocious alters that she keeps locked up. When she feels more secure we can start dealing with them. But when she wasn’t safe, or didn’t feel safe, the monster alters took over, which is why she was fighting the foster carers, cutting herself and daubing blood all over the walls. The final straw was her writing in lipstick on the bathroom mirror, ‘Gonna kill you, bitch!’”

  “And of course they’d have had no idea how to handle it or how to protect the other children?”

  “God, no. She was brought in by the police and sectioned immediately. That’s when the registrar I mentioned earlier called me in to help. There aren’t that many of us who know how to treat this. In fact, I suspect Dr Mullins is way out of his depth, but won’t admit it. To be honest, I’ve had very few cases anywhere near as bad as this myself, and they could speak. Alice is by far the worst. The most damaged for the longest period of time. Apparently she’s given birth at least half a dozen times too, all aborted. “

  “Oh my God, I feel sick.”

  “She drew a tiny perfectly formed baby with a zipped pouch or purse around it, then a flower and a note saying, ‘RIP’.”

  Becky stared blankly at the wall. There were no words.

  “Is there any hope for her?”

  “Yes, oh yes. That’s the good news. But there’s no quick fix, no easy tried and tested formula – in the end it comes down to the human bond, and to trust. We’ll get there if Mullins will just back off and let me do my job.”

  “Judy, is there any danger you’ll be taken off the case?”

  “I’m fighting tooth and nail to stay, and I’ve applied to hospital management for the full-time post they’ve had vacant for over a year.”

  “A year? Ah, I see – so can they not find anyone or–?”

  “Everyone who’s applied has been turned down, apparently – according to Isobel.”

  “By Dr Mullins?”

  Judy shrugged. “Well, he’d have the final say, but there has to be a symbiotic working relationship so I can’t be sure. I must say I don’t care for the man one bit but I’m here for Alice not him, so stuff him.”

  “What about your husband – does he mind you getting all this stress? I know mine does.”

  She laughed. “He’s used to it. No, Mike’s a very busy orthopaedic surgeon so we’re… well you know we’ve been together a long time. We have stuff to do.”

  Becky smiled. There was such an air of security and permanence with this woman. “Can I just ask you a couple more things before I go?”

  “Of course.”

  “Well, first – why did Alice go back to Tanners Dell when she escaped? Ruby used to keep going back there too, and I don’t understand why someone who escaped from such a terrifying place would want to return?”

  “Did she? Ah…interesting…maybe someone did know what they were doing with her then? Hmmm, well, the first thing to realise is the biggest fear for an abuser is the victim will tell - they are terrified of their victims, which is why they spend time programming them. But another trick is to use one of the alters to betray the host, which of course provides an inbuilt security system. So by the use of a trigger – say a phone ringing three times before going dead for example, the alter will go ‘home.’ Alice’s alter was going back to snitch on her, or so the alter thought. You and I know it’s just a way of getting Alice back to her abusers. And after what you’ve just told me about Ruby it seems one of hers may have done the same thing.”

  “I’ve got a big worry about that – my husband’s in CID and I happen to know some of this sect are still out there, you see?”

  “Didn’t one of the women escape without trace?”

  Becky nodded. “Exactly, yes – Ida Dean totally vanished.”

  “Well, I can promise you Alice won’t be fostered out again anytime soon. I’ll make sure of it and so will Isobel. But I don’t think it’s a great idea she’s brought over to see Ruby just yet, do you? We’ve a long way to go.”

  “Definitely not, no. But at least I can tell Ruby I’ve seen her now, and she’ll be happy with that.”

  “Is she able to understand what happened to her yet?”

  “Yes, but there are complexities, like her clairvoyance and poly-fragmentation, and we had a particularly nasty episode after she was hypnotised and …well, we lost two consultants to mental breakdowns because of it.”

  “I did hear something to that effect, well I heard about Jack McGowan anyway. I knew him a few years ago – a good man, excellent doctor.”

  “Yes, yes he was. He was the one who did the hypnosis on Ruby. I was in the room too – but after that he was never the same; and frankly neither was I.”

  “You mean one of her alters was demonic in presentation?”

  Becky gasped.

  Judy nodded. “You wouldn’t believe what I’ve witnessed over the years.”

  Becky exhaled slowly. “Thank God. I cannot tell you how happy and relieved I am to find someone who understands. Honestly, I could cry.”

  “It affected you badly, didn’t it?”

  Becky nodded. “I’m so glad you’re here and you’re who you are. Can we meet up again soon, please? I really feel there’s some hope now.”

  “Of course, I’d love you to. It’s actually very useful for me, as well.” She glanced at the clock and stood up. “Oh no, I really must dash – I have a meeting across town. You know it’s funny but talking about Ida Dean something’s just come to mind I think I should mention. There was a woman lurking outside in the yard a few weeks ago who made me feel a bit uneasy. She was watching Alice very intently, but because I was new I thought she must have been staff. Anyway, when I looked up again she’d gone. Later I thought, ‘I wonder if she was Ida Dean and I should have said something?’ But to be honest I’d nothing to go on – just a fleeting glance - and I’ve not seen her since.”

  Becky was shrugging on her jacket. “Outside here, do you mean? What did she look like?”<
br />
  Judy screwed up her eyes. “No, no it doesn’t make sense. And no one can get into the yard who isn’t a member of staff. Anyway, this woman was young – very young – younger than Ruby.”

  “Ida Dean would be in her late fifties at a guess.”

  “Yes, yes of course. I was new, as I said, and hadn’t really looked into how Ida was related to Alice; where she fitted in.”

  “She’s not. Alice is the progeny of Ruby and sadly, Ruby’s father – Paul Dean. Ida never formally adopted anybody.”

  “But she was married to Paul Dean?”

  “That’s what we’ve been led to believe but I can’t say I’ve seen the marriage certificate. It wouldn’t surprise me if they had some kind of demonic ceremony if they did anything at all.”

  “And Ida escaped…hmmm… You see that’s what made me automatically think she might have come back for the girl; but like I say – this was a young woman so it couldn’t have been her.”

  ***

  Chapter Nine

  It bugged her, gnawing away at the edges of her mind on the bus home. Ida Dean was on the loose. And who knew how many others there were too? Those people were bound to the sect by the gruesome acts they had committed, and were no doubt regrouping.

  But why did Alice still pose a threat to them? Maybe she’d been groomed for a higher purpose, or more to the point could expose things they would definitely not want known? Either way she was in huge danger, something which really hadn’t occurred to her before today; all this time she thought the child was safe. No wonder Ruby was agitated - Ruby who intuitively knew about these things.

  The blurry image of a young woman hovered in her mind, a focused stare through the glass, willing Alice to look up. That’s all it would take – just one glance and the child would vanish into the underworld again without a trace.

  How would she have got access, though? You either had to be a member of staff with a security key card, or have a visitor’s appointment, which required registration at the main desk. These children were considered to be high risk and as such were closely protected; often from their own families.