by Crane, M. L.
“Kiss my ass,” Alice replied sarcastically. Her voice was slurred with the effects of the sedative still present.
“You’ve been out for hours!”
“Sorry I took so long,” Alice mumbled, but Dr. Pelletier didn’t seem to hear her.
“Alice, there is one last patient that I need you to speak to, and her name is Marsha Harris. Alice? Are you listening?” Dr. Pelletier snapped his fingers in front of Alice’s face again. “I said her name is Marsha Harris. I need you to speak to her today.”
Dr. Pelletier began pacing the floor with his hands behind his back while he started to tell Alice about Marsha. Alice still felt too groggy to move her head, so she just followed him with her eyes.
Alice shook her head lethargically. “No. No more. I don’t know what you’re up to, but you need to let me go. I’m not speaking to any more of your damn patients. I’m done playing your little game.”
Dr. Pelletier stopped pacing and turned to face Alice. “Alice, you don’t seem to understand the importance of this experiment. What you need to realize is…”
“No,” Alice interrupted, the fog in her head was slowly fading, and her voice was returning to its normal speed. “What you need to realize is that it’s over. I’m done. I don’t know who you think you are, but you can’t do this to me. When I get out of here, I will contact the authorities and…”
“That’s enough!” Dr. Pelletier shouted, losing his patience.
Dr. Pelletier’s voice boomed so loudly that it made Alice jump. She had never heard him shout before.
Dr. Pelletier cleared his throat, adjusted his bow tie, and regained his composure. “That is quite enough, Alice. You will cooperate. My work here is far too important to go unfinished. You will speak to Marsha. There are questions that I need answers to, and you are the only one who can get them for me. I have tried, but I have not had any success. Once I have received these answers, then, and only then, will it be over. Do we have an understanding?”
Alice looked at him; her head cocked to the side like a puppy trying to make sense of its master’s strange language. “Answers that you need? What are you talking about? I thought this was about me getting the answers I wanted. So, this is all about you, isn’t it? You’ve just been doing some kind of fucked up experiment on me, which I still don’t understand, just to get answers out of a few patients? You are a special kind of crazy?!”
Dr. Pelletier hunched over and placed his hands on the arms of the wheelchair, bringing his face close to Alice’s. When he spoke, Alice could smell the stale cigar smoke on his breath.
“Alice, listen to me. This is not about me. It is about you and always has been. But I need those answers just as much as you do. This experiment will be a complete failure without them. Now, I want you to speak to Marsha, understand?”
Alice was shaking, too angry to speak, so she just nodded her head.
“Good. Well then, there is no need to waste another minute. Let’s get started, shall we?” Dr. Pelletier turned Alice’s wheelchair around to face the table. “Alice, I’d like for you to meet Marsha Harris.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO
Sitting on the other side of the table was a girl of about sixteen or seventeen years of age. She had long brown hair that was frizzy and matted from neglect. It was obvious that she hadn’t used a hairbrush in a very long time. Her large brown eyes were wide and crazed. Her legs bounced rapidly, and her body twitched uncontrollably.
Alice just wanted to get this over with. The throbbing beats of a migraine were beginning to manifest, and her stomach turned so severely that she was afraid that she was going to be sick.
Alice wasn’t sure of what to say or how to begin. She hesitated before opening her mouth because she was so afraid that if she tried to speak, she would vomit all over the table.
“What-what do you want me to ask her?” Alice asked Dr. Pelletier, her voice quivering, fighting against the feeling of nausea that was brewing inside of her gut.
“Ask her anything you’d like.”
“You said that you had specific questions that you needed answers to. If you would just tell me what they are, I can ask them.”
“Now see, that’s the problem. I can’t tell you what those questions are. You need to figure them out on your own. If I tell you what I want to know, it may compromise the experiment.”
Alice looked at Dr. Pelletier like he had grown an extra head.
“Then how the fuck am I supposed to know what you want me to ask her? This is such bullshit! WHAT DO YOU WANT?!” Alice was losing her temper and tried to fight against her restraints.
“Come now, Alice. Keep your temper. Just start talking to her. The right questions will come to you.”
Alice began shooting meaningless questions at Marsha, oozing with sarcasm. “Hello, Marsha. My name is Alice. How old are you? What’s your favorite color? What do you like to do for fun? Are you enjoying your time here at the Lutwidge Resort?”
Dr. Pelletier slammed his fists down on the table and shouted, “Be serious, Alice!”
Marsha tried to stifle a laugh which made Alice smirk.
Marsha giggled, clearly ready to join in on the fun. “Okay, okay, okay. So, my name is Marsha. Oh, duh. You already know that. Pfft! Okay. So, I think I’m seventeen; I don’t know. I can’t remember,” she giggled again and then continued. “Okay. Um, my favorite color is yellow, like butter, because I really like butter. Especially on bread! Okay. And I like to take long walks on the…”
“Enough! Both of you!” Alice rolled her eyes and looked at Dr. Pelletier. His face had turned maroon, and his nostrils flared as he huffed angrily.
Alice’s lips twitched as she held back a grin. She enjoyed seeing him angry. Finally, Dr. Pelletier was getting a taste of his own medicine.
“I apologize for my outburst. It was uncalled for. But, if you continue to behave in this manner, Alice, I will have no choice but to have you sent back to your room.”
Alice didn’t care. She looked at Marsha and said, “Uh, oh. I don’t think Dr. Dildo is too thrilled with us. Maybe we should try to cheer him up. What do you think we should do to make him happy?”
Alice glared at Dr. Pelletier and said, “Oh, and in case you’re not following, I called you Dr. Dildo. To clarify, it means that I’m calling you a dick.”
Alice looked back at Marsha and smirked.
Marsha was giggling, clearly entertained. “Okay, okay. So, I can make him happy. I can give him pleasure if you want me to. I like giving men pleasure,” she said, excitement in her eyes.
“Huh? Oh! No, Marsha. That’s not what I meant.” Alice was caught off guard by Marsha’s response.
“Okay. I’m really good at giving pleasure. Men love me. They keep coming back for more,” Marsha continued, ignoring Alice.
“Marsha, please. That wasn’t what I meant. I was just being sarcastic.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll do the things that you don’t want to do. Um, you can watch! I like doing the naughty things.” Marsha was now touching herself and gyrating her hips, moaning and groaning with self-pleasure.
Alice was beginning to get nervous. Things had gone too far, and she didn’t know how to stop it.
“God damn it, Marsha! Listen to me! Please, you need to stop it. I didn’t mean it like that! You’re not giving anyone pleasure.”
“Mmm. Randall really liked me.”
Alice’s blood froze. She couldn’t believe what she had just heard.
“What did you say?”
“Randall liked me, better than you.”
“SHUT UP!” Alice screamed at Marsha, panic taking over. “SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! YOU DON’T KNOW ANYTHING!”
Alice burst into tears and looked at Dr. Pelletier. “Why are you doing this to me?” she asked.
“Alice, I’m very sorry. Marsha can be a little difficult to handle at times, I know. She has a tendency to make people uncomfortable with her…habits. I apologize if she’s upset you.”
“Upse
t me? Upset me? Are you serious? She knows about my father! Why?! Why does she know?!”
Why don’t you ask her yourself? Get the answers, Alice!”
“GO FUCK YOURSELF!”
“That is quite enough of that language! You will calm yourself, and you will speak to me in an appropriate manner. Do I make myself clear?”
Alice looked away from Dr. Pelletier and refused to utter another word.
“Fine. I see how it’s going to be. I hate to do this, but you are leaving me no choice, Alice. I’ll go fetch Nurse Noble and have her bring you back to your room.” Dr. Pelletier left the room, slamming the door behind him, and leaving Alice alone with Marsha.
“Don’t worry Alice. It will all be over soon. She is almost here.”
Alice looked at Marsha and asked, “Who is She, Marsha? Everyone keeps telling me that She’s coming, but no one will tell me who She is.”
Marsha whispered, “Um, She’s the one that everyone fears. Okay. She lives where no one can find Her. She’s coming, and She’s going to make them pay. She always makes them pay.” Marsha laughed and clapped her hands excitedly.
Before Alice could ask Marsha any more questions, Dr. Pelletier entered the room with Nurse Noble.
“Nurse Noble, please take Alice back to her room and double her dose.”
Nurse Noble looked at Dr. Pelletier in shock. “But I’ve already been giving her the maximum dose.”
“Just do it!” Dr. Pelletier screamed, his fists clenched and his body shook. He looked like a deranged lunatic. With his experiment falling apart before his eyes, he had become unhinged.
“All right, all right. Don’t get your damn knickers in a bunch. But if she croaks, it’s nothing to do with me.”
Alice remained silent, refusing to look at Dr. Pelletier or Nurse Noble. She felt numb.
As Nurse Noble wheeled Alice out of the room, she saw the shadowy figure appear behind Marsha and engulfed her.
Alice looked away, unable to watch.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-THREE
Alice was on her knees, her back hunched over and her head slumped forward. Her eyes were closed, and she listened.
Alice could hear the waves crashing on the shore. There were seagulls eagerly calling out to one another. She felt the cool salty air kiss her face. She instinctively reached down and grabbed handfuls of sand, and let it sift through her fingers.
Alice knew where she was. She slowly lifted her head, opened her eyes, and looked out across the ocean. She was home.
Alice stood and brushed herself off. After everything that she had been through, she wasn’t sure if she trusted what she was seeing. Was she really home? Had she finally escaped the clutches of that lunatic, Dr. Pelletier?
Alice turned around. Her heart fluttered when she saw Rose sitting on the porch swing. She began running up the beach towards the house, waving her hands wildly above her head, and shouting to Rose.
Alice leaped onto the porch and didn’t even stop to catch her breath before she began to bombard Rose with information. “Rose! Oh, my God. I’ve missed you so much. You’re never going to believe what happened to me. It’s Dr. Pelletier! I trusted him! That bastard has been drugging me like a mad scientist, conducting some kind of fucking experiment on me! I think that’s why I’ve been having those nightmares and headaches. Oh! And Nurse Allen, she’s my sister! Can you believe it? Well, that’s what she says. But I’m not sure who or what to believe anymore. They’ve been lying to me and messing with my head this whole time. The internship was a lie! It was just a trick to lure me in. But I still don’t understand how he did it. How did he drug me without my knowledge? And why did those patients know so much about me? I mean, did Dr. Pelletier somehow find out about my past and tell the patients about me? But if he did, why? What the hell was the point to all of it? None of it makes any sense.”
While Alice tried to process her thoughts, she realized that Rose still hadn’t spoken to her. Rose sat curled up on the porch swing, looking out at the ocean.
“Rose? I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to throw all of that at you. Are you feeling any better?” Alice asked, feeling ashamed for not taking notice of Rose’s appearance sooner.
Alice slowly approached her girlfriend and knelt down in front her. Rose’s eyes were sunken and hollow. Her once beautiful supple skin, had become gray and dull. Her luscious red curls were dry and frizzy and had lost their vibrant color. Rose looked so frail and old, as though she had aged a lifetime in only a matter of days.
Alice took one of Rose’s hands in hers and caressed it against her cheek. It felt so dry and brittle. Oddly, it even felt as though it were cracking.
Alice looked at Rose’s hand and screamed in horror. Rose’s hand had crumbled and turned to dust. Rose never flinched. She just continued to stare out at the ocean as though nothing had happened.
“Rose, what the hell is going on?” Alice stood and slowly backed away from Rose, suddenly feeling frightened of her.
Rose got up from the swing. Her joints creaked and groaned with the effort. She made her way slowly to the edge of the porch, never taking her eyes off of the shoreline.
Rose raised the hand that was still intact and pointed out towards the ocean. “There’s a storm coming,” she whispered, her voice was dry and gritty, like the wind through a desert dust storm.
Alice looked towards the direction that Rose was pointing to. The sky had grown dark. The wind whipped and the waves crashed with incredible force. Standing on the beach were Whitney, Maddock, Chelsea, and Marsha. They were all standing side by side, motionless and expressionless.
Alice began backing away towards the front door of the house. She looked at Rose, her eyes pleading with her for help. “Rose, I don’t understand!”
Rose shuffled towards Alice. Her feet sounded like sandpaper across the porch. “She is the storm, and She’s here. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Time’s up, Alice!”
“Oh, God. Please, Rose. Not you too!”
Rose stopped. Suddenly, her skin began to dry and shrivel, cracking and splitting open against her bones. Her eyes withered and disappeared, leaving nothing but hollow sockets. Her beautiful hair began to fall out in clumps and drift to the floor like autumn leaves. She opened her mouth as though she were trying to say something, but her brittle jaw snapped and hung there like a broken hinge. In an instant, Rose crumbled to the floor and turned to dust.
Alice tried to scream but only managed a small squeak. She was so gripped with terror that every muscle in her body had turned to stone, and she found herself unable to move.
“Alice! Alice!”
Alice forced herself to look back towards the beach to see who was calling out to her. It was Whitney.
Whitney reached out towards Alice, beckoning her. “Mary Ann, hurry! Come with us! She’s almost here! You can’t fight Her, Mary Ann! It’s too late!”
Whitney was right. It was too late. The shadowy figure appeared behind Whitney and passed through her like a ghost. The figure was coming up the beach fast and was headed straight for Alice.
“NOOO!” Alice let out a blood-curdling scream. She turned and ran inside the house, slamming the door behind her and locking it.
Alice backed away from the door holding her hands up in front of her as if by sheer will, she could ward off the evil that was waiting for her just outside.
Alice’s body trembled with shock, her legs were too weak and gave out. She collapsed to the floor, and she was breathing in short fast bursts. She knew she was beginning to hyperventilate.
Alice pressed the palms of her hands against her eyes. After forcing herself to take a few slow breaths, she began to relax. She removed her hands from her eyes but kept them closed, allowing herself a moment of peace.
Once Alice felt that she had successfully pulled herself back from the edge of hysteria, she pushed herself up off of the floor and looking around. Much to her surprise, she was not in her cozy little beach house.
Alice decided to explore
.
Alice shuffled down a long hallway. The bright white walls were lined with picture frames with no photographs. No family photos, no corny vacation photos, not even so much as a landscape photo. Every perfectly aligned frame was barren.
As Alice went further down the hallway, the white walls faded to black. Shattered picture frames lay strewn across the floor. She walked across them, the glass crunching and grinding beneath her feet. She could see a room at the end of the hallway.
Alice entered the room. The walls, or what was left of them, were covered in black soot. The furniture had disintegrated down to nothing more than springs and frames, with fragments of fabric clinging to them. In the corner of the room stood the skeletal remains of a Christmas tree. Bits of melted garland dangled from several brittle branches. Glass baubles were broken and strewn about in a pile of ashes. The angel tree topper leaned at an angle, her face melted into a grotesque scream of pain. Alice realized that she was standing in the charred remains of the living room of her childhood home.
“ALICE!”
Alice’s stomach flipped, her throat became tight, and a cold sweat prickled across her skin. That voice. She knew that disgusting, drunken voice. It was her father.
“ALICE GET YOUR ASS IN HERE! NOW!”
When Alice turned towards her father’s voice, she found that she was no longer standing in the living room of her childhood home, but was now facing the doorway of another room. And she knew which one it was.
Alice whimpered. She quickly placed her hand over her mouth to muffle the sound. She was more afraid of Randall than she had ever been of Sybil.
Alice didn’t want to go in, but she knew she had to. She took a deep breath, and slowly took a step forward into the next room.
Alice was standing in the kitchen of the low-income apartment that she and her father had lived in. There, leaning over the ugly Formica table, with his palms spread out on its surface, was her father.
Something about this scene seemed familiar to Alice.
Alice sensed someone coming up from behind her, and spun around to see who it was. She was shocked to see herself, or rather, her past self. It was like she was watching a television rerun, only she couldn’t change the channel.
