by Smith, I. J.
In this year, he never spoke.
Year Four
For four years, Tate had been in hell. His hair longer, he looked more like someone who had been discovered on a deserted island. He still received regular beatings and in mid-May he was dragged from his unit and thrown into a shower room. Peck and his guards grew impatient with Tate, this was the moment they decided he should suicide himself.
Peck was kicking Tate in the stomach when one of the guards spoke out.
“Boss, it’s time to end this!” He said as he pulled a razor blade from his pocket.
Peck held Tate up by his arms. As the guard approached, Tate noticed his name tag. It read Guard Roberts. Tate’s father was called Robert and instantly his image flashed through his mind, right to the moment where he found his father. He remembered seeing the last few heartbeats. He thought of the words muttered to him in that moment by his father ‘I’m sorry.’
Tate suddenly launched his head back, breaking Peck’s nose, and forcing him back against the tiled wall of the shower room. With his arms free, he grabbed Roberts’ arm as he tried to slash at him. Roberts was shocked by his strength. The third guard tried to help but was kicked in the stomach by a barefoot Tate, a kick that sent the guard flying into the wall.
Twisting Roberts’ arm, Tate held him around the throat and forced the blade from his hand.
Tate whispered in the guard’s ear, “Vampires!” He took the blade and carved the letter V into Roberts’ forehead. As Roberts screamed, the alarm sounded. Tate looked over to see the third guard with his hand on the alarm button. Suddenly a dozen guards rushed into the room.
Dropping the blade Tate smiled as the guards wrestled him to the ground; he did not resist. He was dragged back to his unit and locked away once again.
Dr. Taylor walked in the shower room. He could see Roberts’ blood splattering onto the floor as he was screaming in pain. Dr. Taylor looked at the wall where Peck was standing and holding his bloodied nose. Taylor smiled as he approached. “One job, that’s all I gave you,” he said to Peck, shaking his head as he walked away.
Dr. Taylor walked back to his office. As he entered the room he looked at the CCTV monitor of the unit where Tate was sitting on his bed. Suddenly Tate looked up at the camera and gave a creepy smile.
YEAR FIVE
Tate spent most of the year isolated after the violent outburst the year before. He was watched mainly by camera. Doctor Taylor was amazed by what he was witnessing. A man he thought was broken and damaged beyond repair had found a reason to live.
For hours, he was watched. Tate spent most hours of the day training - endless sit-ups, and pushups, including one handed ones. The young man who first arrived here was overweight and not especially physical. Tate had torn his pillow case apart and used it as wraps for his hands. He had begun punching the wall, as if it was a punching bag. The coverings on his hands were eventually stained with blood, but Tate continued.
Over the year, a guard would hardly ever enter the unit Tate was held in. In December Doctor Taylor allowed Tate’s privileges reinstated that would allow him to go the recreation room. With his door open all day, Tate remained inside living to a strict routine. However, now across from his unit was a young blonde-haired woman with scars, caused by self-harm, all over her face and arms. She never spoke.
YEAR SIX
On a thundery night in October, heavy rain was bashing against the windows. The sounds were echoing through the corridors of the Hospital. Tate was punching the wall, having thrown away his bandages long ago, he now hit with his bare knuckles. His fists were like rocks themselves, his knuckles felt like leather. The noise of the guards over the thunder caught his attention.
“This is going to be fun!” A voice spoke aloud.
Tate heard the keys rattle, but not at his door. He walked over to look through the small, reinforced glass panel in the door. Tate watched Peck as he followed Roberts, who still wore the mark of the V Tate carved into his head, as Roberts opened the door to the blonde girl’s unit.
“Hello precious!” Peck spoke, in a creepy tone.
Tate slammed his fist against the door; Roberts turned and smiled as he closed her door. Tate might not have been able to see what was happening, but he could hear. The girl never made a sound, but the grunting of the men and their obvious enjoyment made it clear what they were doing. Tate once again punched the door.
As the sun rose, Tate lay on his bed. Like clockwork his door was opened at 9 am on the dot. He continued to lie there for an hour, when suddenly he sat up and left his unit. He walked down to the recreation room, for the first time in his stay. Other patients roamed around, a television that sat high on the wall was playing cartoons. Patients played games, and made a lot of noise as they jumped around. Tate looked around to see the blonde girl sitting, looking out the dirty barred window.
He approached her slowly. He could see fresh marks on her neck, as she came into view. Tate leaned against the window and faced her. He said nothing, watching her as she looked up at him. She looked at the broad muscular man, who barely fit his hospital issue clothes anymore. They locked eyes and it looked as if they were communicating without speaking.
“Back to your room!” Ordered a familiar voice.
Tate looked up to see Peck. He also noticed the cringing reaction in the girl’s face. Tate walked past the girl, approaching Peck. Pulling out his baton Peck looked at Tate, who simply smiled back.
Tate grabbed the baton and pulled Peck towards him. With one move he snapped Peck’s neck, instantly killing him. As Peck’s body dropped, Tate held the baton tight. Patients screamed at what they witnessed happening. Guard Roberts rushed at Tate, who with one swing of the baton visibly broke the man’s skull.
Alarms began to ring. Doctor Taylor rushed into the recreation room to see two of his guard’s dead. Within seconds, over twenty guards stood behind Taylor.
“Maybe I am a monster!” Tate remarked.
The guards rushed at him; Tate lashed out with the baton and his fists.
∞
A few days later…
A woman with brown hair in a ponytail; slim build and wearing sensible black rimmed glasses, walked down a long hallway. She approached a large door; around the door, the wall was covered in paintings. Old wooden beams were visible along the hall. As she reached the door, she opened it and walked straight inside.
In the room, thousands of books on shelves surrounded the walls. At large desk at the end of the room sat an older man. “Father!” She says.
“Abigail my dear, what is so important that you needed to show me at this time of night?” He asked.
As Abigail walked closer, she pulled a USB stick from her trouser pocket and plugged it into the side of her father’s computer.
“Recruitment! I think we have someone to add.” She replied.
Her father looked up at her and placed his hand on hers. “We have already picked the recruits for this year.”
She smiled, “But the tests do not start for a week and you have to see this!”
She took the mouse of the computer and clicked on the icon, and played the video. He watched as what appeared to be CCTV footage being played. He saw a large man, long hair and dressed in white. Watching as the man as he snapped another man’s neck like it was a stick; hitting another man so hard, that he crushed the skull with one blow. Her father sat up and focused as the man was attacked by several guards.
“Twenty guards are beyond anyone, but he took seven down. Three of them will need surgery.” Abigail told him.
“Who is he?”
“Tate Litchfield was sent to Heights Mental Hospital. They believed he killed his parents, but he told them it was ‘Vampires’.” She smiled. “He never changed his story, left in there without trial for six years.”
“Have you pulled the police reports?”
“Of course, even the arresting officers had their doubts of his guilt. The crime scene photos are something we have seen before.”
She replied.
“Go. See if you can bring him in. Take Barton with you for backup.”
Abigail kissed her father on the cheek like an excited child. “What was that for?” He asked.
“For believing in me.” She replied.
She rushed from the room. Her father sat at his desk and watched the video over and over. “Maybe!” He muttered.
CHAPTER THREE
NO TRUST
A beautiful, glimmering, silver car stopped outside a large mansion. A driver dressed in all black disembarked and opened the back door of the car. Abigail stepped out from the car.
“Wait here!” She told the driver.
She looked up at the building, it was huge. Stone gargoyles sat at along the large wall on the roof. Large barred windows scattered around the building. The stairs leading to the main entrance door had stone lions sitting on each side.
Abigail was dressed in formal wear, black knee-length skirt, white shirt, and a black jacket. She looked official as she walked with a brown leather bag. She walked up the long stone steps to the large wooden door. Above the door read the name Heights Mental Hospital. As she pushed the door open it made a cracking noise. Stepping inside it was more modern than it looked on the outside; she was met with another glass door only a few steps in. Behind a glass door, was a large heavy-set woman sitting at a table. Her hair was gray and made up like a hive, large beads hung around her sagging neck.
The woman looked towards Abigail, instead of standing; she pressed a button on the table, and spoke into a microphone saying, “No visitors!”
Abigail smiled, as she pulled a black leather wallet from her pocket. Before she could open her wallet, the large woman spoke again. “No visitors; Appointments only between 11am and 3pm!”
Abigail slammed her identification against the glass. The large woman shook her head as she forced her weight from the seat; she slowly made her way to the glass door. Frowning as she looked at the identification. It read, ‘Lady Isabella Dent, Secretary of the Supreme Court.’
There was a look of panic as the large woman hit the round green button on the wall to open the door. As it buzzed Abigail walked in.
“I do apologize. I thought you were just a visitor.” The woman said.
“Everyone deserves respect. Remember that next time you don’t want to move your fat ass a few feet!” Abigail replied.
Abigail marched down the corridor, like a person on a mission of life and death. She reached an elevator and pressed the button. Immediately, the door opened and she made her way to the fifth floor. As she walked out, another large desk sat in front of this time a barred door. A guard dressed in white was reading a newspaper. At first, he ignored her.
“I would like to see Doctor Taylor.” Abigail asked the guard.
“He is busy.” The guard replied, without looking up at Abigail.
Abigail looked at the man and thought of what ‘Planet of the Apes’ movie he was from. He was a brute. She slammed her identification on the desk, ripping his paper in the process. He looked up at her with a snarl and took her identification.
“Now, get me Doctor Taylor and maybe I will give you a banana for your trouble!” She said with a fierce voice.
He grabbed the handle of the red phone that sat on the table, and pressed only one button.
“Doctor Taylor, there is a Lady Isabella here to see you.” He paused for a moment, “Yes Sir.” He placed the phone down and threw her identification back down to the table. “Along the hall, third door on the right,” he said as he pressed a buzzer and the barred gate opened.
She looked at him with a smile. “Good monkey!” He snarled as she walked through the gate. The noise of her high-heels in the tiled floor echoed out.
Before she reached the Doctor’s office, his door opened and she was greeted by the doctor himself. He held his hand out to welcome her, she ignored his hand.
“It has come to our attention that there has been a man held without trial or charge for six years.” As she said as she pulled a brown folder from her bag. The doctor swallowed hard, sweat glowing on his brow as she checked the file. “Yes, here it is, a Tate Litchfield. He has been here for six years and no report of his condition has been filed to us for you to keep him here.”
Doctor Taylor looked at her; as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his brow.
“Can you explain this Doctor Taylor?”
“Miss Is….” He was stopped as she raised her hand.
“Lady Isabella.” She corrected him.
“Of course, Lady Isabella. The patient you speak of is very dangerous. He has failed at every course of treatment we’ve tried and only yesterday he attacked and killed two guards.” He replied with a rattle of fear in his voice.
“I want to talk to him.” Lady Isabelle demanded.
Doctor Taylor looked at her with fear and replied, “I am not sure that is a good idea.”
Abigail laughed. “Let me re-phrase that; I am going to speak with him!”
“Of course, I will have him brought to an interview room from his solitary confinement.”
“Very well. While you arrange that, I would like to look around his room.” She replied.
“Unit four, it’s at the end of the corridor.” He said and pointed toward the room’s door.
Abigail walked away in haste towards the room. As she reached unit four, she found the door was unlocked and she walked inside. Walking around the room she saw there were very little in possessions; only a few books that were all about the supernatural. Several of the large stone bricks had one letter on them, a ‘V’. She noticed a two white cloth handles hanging from the bars. To some it may have looked like a way to commit suicide, but they were in fact used in pull-up exercises. She ran her hand around the wall, stopping at a cracked and indented brick. Blood marks were scattered around it, she placed her fist against it. Abigail knew straight away that Tate was using this as a punch bag.
She looked at the cracks in the brick. “Damn! You are a strong one!” she muttered.
Doctor Taylor appeared at the door, “Lady Isabella, the prisoner is ready.”
She grunted as she turned and walked towards Taylor to follow him. As they walked along the corridor, Taylor tried to make conversation. “I need to tell you this man is dangerous, so I have placed two guards in the room - for your protection.” Doctor Taylor announced.
“NO! Listen to me; this man is entitled to fair treatment.” Abigail said as she walked past him. “Remember you’re the one who forgot to file the official paperwork!” She continued.
“You will have the paperwork first thing tomorrow!” He replied.
She turned her head and glanced at him. “Well, let’s hope this killer does not walk free.”
Doctor Taylor rushed to catch her up, “Stop, room two.” He pointed.
Without knocking she opened the door with harshness and walked in. “OK! You two can leave!” She told the guards. They both gave a frowned looked, but then Taylor appeared. “It’s OK, this is a private council.” He informed them. As the guards left the room, Taylor stood in the doorway. “If you need…” He started to speak; as she slammed the door in his face.
“Mr. Litchfield, may I call you Tate?” She asked.
She looked at his bruised and battered face, his lip and eyebrow slit open from an obvious beating.
“You can call me whatever.” He muttered through his overgrown beard.
“My name is Abigail.” She started to speak when he stopped her. “They told me your name was something else.” Smiling at him she whispered. “We all have our little secrets.”
Doctor Taylor rushed into his office and switched the monitor on for room two. He turned the sound up to listen in on their conversation.
Abigail took a file from her leather bag, as she opened it Tate could see the picture of the young man he was once. She looked at him as he shuffled the handcuffs that were connecting him to a bar on the table.
“They look uncomfo
rtable.” She remarked.
Looking at the blood and bruising on his knuckles he smiled, “I’ve had worse.”
She looked at the file. “So, you think Vampires killed your family?” She asked.
Shaking his head, he replied, “I don’t care what you think, I know what I saw.”
She leaned back in her chair. “Vampires don’t exist. You made it all up to play the insanity card, so why did you kill your family?” Abigail asked.
Anger was growing in Tate; he tried to force his cuffs off and replied, “I loved my family!”
“Unless you start telling us the truth, you will spend the rest of your life in here!” She told him.
Tate laughed, “I am already going to spend the rest of my life in here. Killing those two guards made sure of that.”
“Why did you kill the guards?”
“They took from a woman, that what should not be forced!” He replied with a stern face.
Abigail gave a hint of a smile, pulling a pen out from her bag and clicked the tip. Doctor Taylor watched the monitor; when suddenly the picture and sound scrambled, he could not see or hear anything.
“OK, we have about sixty seconds before the idiot who runs this place realizes there is not a problem with his CCTV.” She told Tate. Looking confused he asked, “Who the hell are you?”
“I am someone who can give you answers. But you have to trust me; there are tests you must pass. Starting with this,” She pulled a small yellow tablet from her pocket.
“Swallow this and we will do the rest.”
Taking the tablet, he looked at her. “What is it?”
“The first test; now the cameras are about to return. So, be a dear and go berserk for the viewers.” She clicked the pen again.
Tate sat for a second and at that next moment; he kicked the chair away and tried to rip the bar from the table. She began to scream; “Help me! Please help me, he’s crazy.” As the door flew open with force she screamed again, “He’s crazy!”
Glancing back at Tate, she winked as the guards approached him. He lowered his head to the table and swallowed the yellow tablet. Grabbing her bag, she rushed from the room towards Doctor Taylor. “You have done well; this monster must be kept locked away!” Abigail said with a scared voice.
