by Amy Cross
He tried, but somehow his mind couldn't find his mouth, as if the command was leaving his brain but getting lost as it tried to traverse the mass of nerve endings in his body. Finally, after a great deal of effort, he felt his toe twitch, although he wasn't sure whether or not that had actually happened. Splintered shafts of light were filling his mind, making it impossible to string any proper thoughts together.
“Jonah, open your mouth,” the doctor said firmly.
“Maybe it's a little too soon,” the other doctor suggested. “We can try again tonight.”
“I don't think there's any harm in pushing him. Let's try with this, it might help.”
A moment later, Jonah felt a sharp pain somewhere in his body, as if a needle was being driven into his flesh. He couldn't work out where the pain was coming from – an arm, maybe, or a leg – but it was definitely there. Focusing, he tried to untangle the mess of thoughts and impulses in his mind, and finally he realized that the pain was in his left forearm, just above the wrist, or... No, it was in his thigh, definitely his thigh. He felt relieved that he'd at least been able to work that one out.
“Minimal response,” one of the voices said, sounding disappointed. “Okay, maybe you were right. We'll try again tonight.”
Suddenly the light left his eyes, and he realized his eyelids had closed again. He could hear footsteps walking away, and then he heard a metal door being slammed shut. Although he tried to stay awake, he was already sinking again, fading into darkness, but this time the last thing he heard was the sound of a woman, laughing. Was there a laughing woman in the room, or was she just a figment of his imagination? He had no idea, and as he slipped away, he felt his conscious mind detaching itself from the rest of his soul and then falling away like dust.
***
“Do you know how long you've been out for?”
Blinking as he adjusted to the morning light, which was streaming through the window in his cell, Jonah tried to come up with an answer. His mind felt completely blank, and as his eyes darted around the room, the only color he felt comfortable looking at was white.
“I... A day?” he asked finally.
Doctor Steiner turned to his colleague, and then back to Jonah.
“A little longer than that. Try again.”
“How...” Pausing, he tried to find the strength to say another word. “How long?”
“It's almost two weeks now since your operation.”
“Two weeks?”
“That's right. The recovery period was much longer than we anticipated, but we've come to see that as potentially a good thing. You'll be pleased to know that we got out all the tissue we were aiming for, and we're confident that the procedure was a complete success.”
“Success?” he whispered. “What... What does that even mean?”
“It's too early to tell,” Steiner continued, “but I don't think you'll be hearing any more voices in your head.” He smiled, causing faint dimples to appear on the side of his face. “There's a chance that you're cured, Jonah. We're confident that we've cut out the part of your brain that caused the voices. How does that feel?”
“Trine.”
“I'm sorry?”
“The nurse. Trine.”
Steiner frowned. “What about her?”
“Is she here?”
“She's around, I think.” He turned to his colleague again, seemingly a little concerned.
“Can I see her?” Jonah asked.
Steiner looked back down at him. “Why would you want to see her?”
“Smile.”
“What?”
“I want...” Feeling a little breathless, and also finding that it was difficult to concentrate on getting the words out, Jonah paused for a few frustrated seconds. “I want to thank her.”
“Well... We'll see about that,” Steiner said cautiously. “For now, what matters is that you continue to rest, and that nothing jeopardizes your recovery. You're by far the most promising specimen we've had, and you seem remarkably resilient, but it's very important to us that we're able to monitor your progress and see whether you can be fully rehabilitated. We're still at the beginning of this journey, although the signs so far are excellent.”
“Mirror,” he whispered.
“I'm sorry?”
“Show me... I want to see.”
“I think he wants to see his reflection,” the other doctor suggested. “I don't see why he shouldn't.”
Reaching into his pocket, Doctor Steiner took out a small, compact mirror and opened it, before holding it up in front of Jonah's face. “There you go. Don't be shocked, we had to shave your head for the operation, and there's a scar, but other than that I think you look remarkably well. We have some female patients here, we'll have to keep an eye on you when they're around.”
Squinting a little, Jonah was able to see his own eyes staring back at him. They looked darker than before, with heavier shadows and larger, deeper rings, but he still recognized himself. As the mirror was tilted back a little, he saw his bald head, along with a thick scar running up to the top, held shut by metal staples. Before he could see any more, however, the mirror was taken away.
“So now your job is to rest,” Doctor Steiner told him. “Tomorrow, if all goes according to plan, we can try to get you up and run a few basic tests. I'm keen to see how your motor functions recover now that we've completed the operation. Some of your wiring, so to speak, has most likely been compromised.” Reaching closer, he patted Jonah on the shoulder. “Pretty soon, my friend, I believe we'll be able to start talking about you as our biggest success to date. I hope you're feeling very proud of yourself.”
***
“How does that feel?” the nurse asked, as she wheeled Jonah through the door and out onto a wooden deck that overlooked the forest. “Fresh air for the first time in weeks.”
A faint smile crossed his lips as the chair bumped over the step, but the smile was caused as much by Trine's voice as by the sight of the pine trees stretching away into the distance. Still, there was something intoxicating about the forest, and he couldn't help imagining what it would be like to break free of the chains that held him to the chair, and to take Trine and run away from the hospital. His strength had been returning all morning, and he felt that he'd be ready soon. All his life, he'd never really stayed in one place for too long.
“We can't be out here all afternoon,” she continued, “but I have some good news. Doctor Steiner told me that I'm allowed to free you up a little.” Taking a key from her pocket, she crouched next to the wheelchair and began to unlock the chains. “He's never, ever felt that it's safe to do this with a patient before, but he said he's so pleased with your progress, he's certain you're not a threat. I've got to admit, I wasn't sure at first, but he explained that it could be therapeutically useful.” Moving around to the other side of the chair for a moment, she seemed to hesitate slightly, as if she was nervous, before forcing a smile and unlocking the last chain. “There. How does that feel?”
Looking down at his legs, Jonah felt a shiver pass through his body as he realized that, for the first time since his arrest, he was actually free. He wanted to leap up and start running immediately, but he knew his body was still too weak. He'd never been a patient man, but he figured he was going to have to learn.
“You wait right here,” the nurse said, as she got to her feet and lit a cigarette. “Doctor Steiner doesn't like it when we smoke around the patients, so I'm going to go over to the other end of the decking while you get some fresh air.”
“Stay,” he whispered.
Perhaps she didn't hear him, or perhaps she simply ignored the request; either way, she headed over to the far side of the decking and leaned on the railing as she lit her cigarette and took a drag. Jonah watched her blowing smoke into the air, and he felt as if he was seeing the most beautiful creature that had ever existed. After a moment, his eyes began to focus on her ass, and he found himself mesmerized by the way her clean white uniform clung to her body, and by the way h
er muscles seemed to flex slightly as she shifted position.
“You could have her,” he thought.
He froze, as he realized that maybe those words hadn't been a thought after all. Maybe they'd been the voice in his head. Sometimes, it was difficult to tell the two apart.
“She wants you,” the voice whispered. “Why do you think she's standing like that, all provocative, showing you what's on offer? A woman doesn't want to throw herself at a man, not a good woman anyway. No matter how wet she gets in those pretty little panties, she'll wait for you to make the move. She's giving you signals, though. Go and show her that you still know how to do it. She's already bent over. It wouldn't take much to slip her uniform up, pull her underwear down, and stick it in her. Imagine how she'll gasp.”
He paused for a moment, trying to summon the necessary strength, before gripping the wheelchair's armrests and slowly, with a great deal of pain, hauling himself to his feet. The chair creaked beneath him, but the nurse didn't look over.
“She must have heard,” the voice told him. “You know what that means, right? She's playing dumb. She wants you.”
Stumbling forward, taking his first steps for weeks, Jonah had to reach out and steady himself against the wall for a moment before continuing to make his way toward her.
“I'm not going to hurt her,” he told himself. “I just want her to know that I care about her. I just want to ask her if there's any hope.”
“And then smash her from behind,” the voice whispered.
“No,” he whispered.
“You know how this works. I always get what I want from you.”
Stopping suddenly, he found his mind filled with the image of Trine's bloodied body flat on its back. He saw himself climbing on top of her, able to do anything he wanted without any chance of her fighting back. Her dead eyes were staring up at the sky as he pawed at her flesh, letting his fingers draw trails in her blood. He knew he could spend hours lost in her corpse, and the forest was waiting to offer him somewhere safe to hide.
“You know,” the voice said again, “how this works.”
Blinking a couple of times, he forced the image from his mind and staggered on, getting closer and closer to the nurse as she continued to smoke.
“You saw the cross dangling around her neck,” the voice whispered. “She'll be happier in Heaven anyway.”
Letting out a gasp, he stumbled and almost fell, before steadying himself against the railing.
“Hey,” the nurse said, stubbing her cigarette out and hurrying over to help him, “you're not supposed to push yourself so hard!”
“I just -”
“Look at the cross,” the voice hissed.
Glancing at the front of her uniform, he watched for a moment as the silver cross dangled on its chain, hanging in the gap between her plump breasts and occasionally bumping against her flesh.
“Bite it,” the voice told him.
Leaning closer, he reached out and took the cross in his teeth.
“Okay,” she said, pulling the cross back and then holding her top closed to cut off the view, as she tried to steer him back to his wheelchair, “I think that's quite enough excitement for one day, don't you? Better get you back to your room.”
“Give her what she really wants,” the voice whispered. “Give her what she needs.”
“Please,” he whimpered, as tears began to roll down his cheeks.
“Please what?” the nurse asked. “Come on, let's -”
“No!” he shouted, pushing her away and taking a few steps forward. He knew what would happen if he stayed close to her, and all he could think about was getting away. Slamming shoulder-first into the wall, he stopped and turned, just as the nurse began to approach cautiously. He could feel sweat on his brow now, and there was a sharp pain behind his eyes that seemed to be causing the whole world to tilt on its axis.
“Did they really think they could cut me out?” the voice asked. “They'd be better off cutting you out, and leaving me in charge of this body.”
“No,” he whispered. “You're... not...”
“Okay,” the nurse said, taking a small box from her pocket and then removing a syringe that was already filled with a pale yellow solution, “I want you to stay calm.”
“Get away,” he told her, his voice strained and cracked. “I'm not safe. I'll hurt you.”
“I need some help here!” she shouted, looking toward the door. “I need -”
“No!” he yelled, lunging at her and knocking the syringe from her hand before landing hard on top of her.
“Help!” she screamed.
“Do it,” the voice hissed.
“Help! Somebody -”
For a moment, his eyes were filled with the sight of the nurse's dead body again, and with the image of his hands holding her head and smashing her face against the wooden decking. He blinked, trying to make the image go away, but somehow it seemed to be persisting for much longer than usual, and the whole world seemed to be shimmering all around him. Focusing on the nurse and turning her bloodied head toward him, he watched in horror as a section of her skull fell away, leaving one of her dead eyes staring up him from a shattered socket. She opened her mouth and let out a faint gasp, spraying him with blood.
“No,” he whimpered, trying to put the broken pieces of skull back together as he heard footsteps running toward him. “Please...”
“This isn't in your head,” the voice said calmly. “You're confused, Jonah. This is real.”
“No!” he shouted, as his trembling fingers pulled her left eye out. Blinking furiously, he tried to make the image go away, but suddenly he felt himself being grabbed from behind and pulled up. Screaming, he was dragged back toward the door, as he finally realized that he hadn't imagined the attack. It had really happened.
Chapter Thirty-One
1950
“Jonah,” Doctor Steiner said firmly, “I need you to open your eyes. Now.”
Pausing for a moment, Jonah finally managed to get his left eye to open, although the right only followed a few seconds later after an extreme amount of effort. His head, his mind, his thoughts... Everything felt strangely heavy, and it took a moment before he was able to turn and see Doctor Steiner sitting near the bed. Looking down at his own arms, he realized he was chained to the bed again. If it hadn't been for the number 17019 tattooed on his hand, he might not even have recognized his own body.
“Do you know where you are?” Steiner asked.
Opening his mouth, Jonah tried to speak, but he felt as if there was a kind of emptiness in his mind, holding him back.
“Do you know where you are?” Steiner asked again. “Come on, man. Focus.”
“Trine,” he whispered, seeing a brief flash of the nurse's smile.
“Never mind that now. Tell me where you are.”
“Hospital,” he continued, feeling a trickle of saliva running from his mouth and down his chin. His head felt so heavy, he could barely keep it up. “Trine.”
“Trine's dead, Jonah. You killed her.”
He paused, unable to quite process the information. Trying to focus on the memory of her smile, he began to see another image instead, bursting through his thoughts in a series of waves: a bloodied head, with one of its eyes missing.
“You're still here with us at the hospital,” Doctor Steiner continued, “and we've now performed a second operation. Following the incident with Nurse Alesund, it became apparent that the voices were still in your head, so we went back in to remove more material. It's been two weeks since that second operation and we've kept you sedated until now, for your own safety as well as the safety of everyone else here at the facility.” He paused for a moment, before making a note on his clipboard. “Jonah, you -”
“Trine,” he whispered, holding his breath as he tried to focus on the memory of her smile. “Trine...”
“Trine's gone,” the doctor said firmly. “You killed her two weeks ago.”
“No...”
“Yes
. I can assure you, I've spent a great deal of time working to deal with the mess you caused. Fortunately, the young woman didn't have very much in the way of family, and Father Skallen and I worked closely with some other important figures in the local town to avoid any kind of messy fallout. Still, you put us through a lot of trouble.” He paused again, watching Jonah closely. “I knew it was a mistake to trust you, but the others thought we should try. We'd noticed that you seemed unusually attached to Nurse Alesund, so we felt that leaving you unchained and alone with her would be a way to see if the voices might return. Unfortunately, they did.”
“You...” Jonah took a deep breath, trying to focus his thoughts. “You used her to test me?”
“We did.”
“You knew I'd... You knew I'd... kill her?”
“We knew it was a distinct possibility. We didn't want that to be the outcome, of course, but sometimes one simply has to accept these things. At least she didn't die in vain. Her death helped us to learn a great deal more about your condition.”
Taking another slow, deep breath, Jonah stared at the doctor for a moment, while in his mind's eye he saw alternating flashes of Trine's smile and her dead, bloodied face. A slow, steady sense of rage was starting to fill his chest, interrupted only by sudden waves of sorrow.
“Why did you focus on her eyes?” Steiner asked.
“I didn't.”
“You did. As well as cracking her skull open, you gouged out one of her eyes and you were trying to remove the other when my men pulled you away.”
Blinking a couple of times, Jonah saw brief flashes of the nurse's eyeball dropping into the palm of his hand.
“We had to cut out a lot more brain matter this time,” the doctor told him, taking the mirror from his pocket and holding it out. “Clearly we were too conservative during the first operation, so this time we went the other way. Every time we had a doubt about an area, we went ahead and removed it. You've now lost almost one quarter of your brain mass. Tell me, Jonah, how do you feel right now? Don't over-think it, just say the first thing that pops into your head.”
