by Amy Cross
"You have a hole in your mind, do you not?" he continues. "Someone, a long time ago, partitioned off a section of your memory and filled it with... something. Aren't you curious? Don't you want to know what's in there?"
"I'm sure I'll find out one day," I say bitterly, not wanting to give him any ground at all.
"Oh, you'll find out sooner than that," he replies. "We're going to tear down that barrier and get to the truth, Abigail. The truth shall always set you free. Lies are just knots in your soul, and no soul can persist in such an abject state. We must straighten out those knots, and untie them one by one, and finally we shall get to the truth. That's all that matters here, Abigail. The truth."
Taking a step back, I realize that this guy is full of his own bullshit, and there's no point trying to argue with him. I could stand here all night and point out the flaws in his plan, but the truth is, he has an answer for everything. The best approach is probably to just hang back, wait in the darkness, and hope that I manage to come up with a plan.
"You seem to have fallen silent," he says eventually. "I hope I haven't offended you, Abigail."
I stare at the small window.
"Have you taken a vow not to speak?" he asks. "Like your father?"
"Go to hell," I spit back at him.
"Good," he replies, "you still have fighting spirit. We'll begin our work nice and early in the morning, Abigail, and then we can really get to the heart of your problems. I should warn you, though, that I'm very much in favor of physical interventions. I shall be using a few treatment techniques to help advance our work. I'm sure you'll get used to the way things work around here."
"Go -"
"For now," he continues, interrupting me, "I think we should probably call it a night. Food will be brought to you in the morning, Abigail, and then we can begin. I'm most eager to test your limits."
"I'll show you my limits," I reply, as he slides the shutter closed, covering the window and leaving me in complete darkness. "Hey!" I shout, running across the cell and banging my fists against the wooden door. "Get back here! You can't just leave me in this goddamn place!"
I wait for a reply, but all I can hear are footsteps leading away, plus the occasional moan from nearby cells.
"You'll regret this!" I shout at the top of my voice, before realizing that there's no way I can argue my way out of this situation. Taking a step back, I decide to just wait the night out and see what happens in the morning. I have no idea who these lunatics are, but I know one thing for sure: they'll make a mistake, and when they do, I'll rip their goddamn heads off. There's no asylum in the world that can hold Abigail Hart, and by this time tomorrow, they're going to be wishing they'd never even heard my name.
Dr. Cole
"So it would be fair to say that you harbor a great deal of resentment toward your brother?"
Sitting opposite me, Madeleine LeCompte stares at me with barely-disguised contempt. She's always been a difficult patient, one who believes herself to be superior to everyone else at Tor Cliff, including the staff; she's convinced that her incarceration here is a mistake, or worse, a cruel trick played by her brother. Getting past her defenses has been a slow and difficult process, but I'm determined to break her down. No-one lasts long at Tor Cliff without giving me what I want.
"Look at that simple little creature," I say, using the end of my pen to point at a small spider that has begun to descend from its web. "It has a purpose in life. It has no ambitions other than to build its web and catch flies. Don't you think we'd all be happier if we had such simple plans? Food and a home. Who needs anything more?"
Madeleine scowls, clearly unimpressed.
"You find it difficult to empathize with such a small, mindless creature?" I ask.
No response.
"No matter," I continue, using my pen to break the spider's thread; as soon as it drops to the floor, I stamp down hard, squashing the creature. I've often wondered why it feels so good to end a life, even one that was so insignificant and unimportant.
"Someone new came last night," Madeleine says calmly. "A new patient?"
"Your brother -"
"An important patient?" she adds, raising an eyebrow.
"We're here to talk about you," I reply. "Rather than focusing on other patients -"
"I can sense her," she says, interrupting me. "Most of the other minds in this hellhole are weak and feeble, darling, but I can sense strength and anger in her. She's not like the other cretins." Pausing, she allows a faint smile to reach her lips. "Maybe I've got an ally at last."
"This deflection strategy is deeply ingrained," I reply, determined to steer our session back onto its proper course. "You'll do anything to avoid talking about yourself, and about your problems."
"I don't have problems," she replies. "Apart from this straitjacket, anyway." She shifts in her seat, trying once again to get her arms free from the chains that hold her sleeves tight behind her back.
"You're wearing that for your own protection," I tell her calmly.
"For your protection, you mean."
"That too."
"Do you have any idea what I'm going to do to you when I get out of this thing?"
"If you got out of that jacket, I imagine you'd attempt to harm me." I pause for a moment, enjoying the fact that I've clearly boxed her into a corner. She wants to upset me, to disturb my balance, but she can't. "Tell me, Madeleine... Why do you want to hurt me?"
"Maybe it's because I hate my parents," she replies with a sigh, "or maybe it's because I feel unfulfilled in my romantic life. Or maybe, just maybe, it's because you had me kidnapped and dragged to this place. Yeah, in fact, I think that last point might just be the answer."
"You were brought here because you were clearly suffering from an emotional disturbance," I point out.
"Says who?"
"I made the decision."
"And you think you have that right?" she replies. "You think you can just go out, find some hot, sexy, intelligent, independent, powerful vampire and drag her back here?"
"You have a high opinion of yourself," I say with a smile.
"I've looked in the mirror," she replies calmly. "I've got a good memory, too. Believe me, I've had some good times over the years. If you don't believe me, ask my brother. He's another one who thought he could kick me about, and I made him regret that decision. On multiple occasions, with increasing use of force."
"Do you hate your brother?"
"Of course not, darling," she replies. "I love him with a passion. That's one of the many reasons I'm going to get out of this place. I simply must be reunited with my dear Edgar. He's going to be so lonely without me, you see. I know he says he finds me irritating, but that's only because he loves me. We're two sides of the same coin, and we're much stronger when we're together. In fact, I'm surprised he hasn't had himself committed here, just so he can be close to me."
"All in good time."
"Or maybe you'll allow him to come and visit?"
"There are no visitors here at Tor Cliff," I tell her. "We prefer to keep the atmosphere undisturbed. Visitors act as reminders of the outside world, and they can disrupt the narrative of recovery. I'm sure you'll be reunited with your brother when you eventually leave Tor Cliff -"
"And when will that be?" she asks. "Point of fact, darling, has anyone ever been released from this place? 'Cause I remember every face I saw on my first day here, and they're all still here, apart from a few who ended up going below." She pauses. "She's different, isn't she?" she continues after a moment. "This new patient. I can see it in your eyes, Dr. Cole. You're excited by her. Normally, you seem to have your focus entirely on me during our sessions, but today you seem a little distracted, like you're just going through the motions. I'd be offended, but I'm too busy feeling curious. Who the hell is this new patient of yours?"
"Let's talk about your brother -" I start to say.
"It must be someone important," she replies with a grin.
"Your brother was -"
"I
f I didn't know better," she continues, "I'd think you'd managed to drag Abby Hart herself into your hellhole of an asylum." She pauses, and suddenly a wave of realization crosses her face. "I saw that," she whispers with a grin.
"Saw what?" I ask, adjusting my position.
"That flicker of anger," she says. "You should never try playing poker, Dr. Cole. You've got too many little nervous tics." She pauses again. "It is Abby Hart, isn't it? You've got Abby Hart here. Right here, in this building."
"The other patients -"
"Holy crap," she continues, visibly enthused by the idea, "do you have any idea..." She takes a deep breath. "I've got to hand it to you, Dr. Cole, you've pulled off something of a coup. I mean, Abby Hart is special. She's probably the only other vampire in all the seven worlds who's worthy of spending time with me! Of course, I've never actually met her. I've always preferred to keep away, lest we end up squabbling, but if she's here at Tor Cliff -"
"I think our session is over for today," I say firmly, closing my logbook.
"What's up, Doc?" she asks. "You seem pissed off all of a sudden. Don't you want to talk about your new patient?"
"Our hour is up," I tell her blankly.
"I just hope you realize I'm still your prize specimen," she continues. "I know Abby Hart has certain... baggage... but I'm far more interesting and far more of a puzzle and, dare I say, far, far more beautiful." She leans forward, clearly determined to get her point across. "Don't be blinded by that little bitch," she adds. "I know she's got the whole traumatic back-story and the famous Daddy, but there's not much more to her. I'm the one who should be the focus of your attention -"
Before she can finish, the door opens and two nurses enter, ready to take Madeleine back to her room.
"Seriously?" Madeleine says, beginning to let her agitation show. "What are you gonna do, Doc? Dump me in my cell so you can talk to pretty little Abby?"
"Time to go," says Nurse Fletcher, placing a hand on Madeleine's shoulder.
"We'll resume tomorrow at our usual time," I say calmly, before realizing that perhaps I should take this opportunity to put Madeleine firmly in her place. "Actually," I add with a smile, "perhaps we'll skip tomorrow and I'll see you on Wednesday instead. I think I might be a little busy tomorrow with other patients."
"Go fuck yourself," she replies, spitting at me.
Looking down at the blob of bloody saliva on my lab coat, I realize that I've managed to pierce her defenses at last. Poor Madeleine, so confident and yet so fragile.
"I'm not going anywhere!" she shouts, struggling as the nurses attach a harness to her straitjacket. "I want a double session! I deserve a double session!"
"We'll talk more on Wednesday," I say calmly.
"No!" she screams, as the nurses begin to pull her toward the door. Refusing to follow, she falls to the ground, but she can't stop them dragging her away. "You're making a big mistake!" she yells. "You'll realize soon enough! I'm the one you need to be focusing on! Abby Hart is just some scrawny little bitch! I'll kill her! That'll show you! I'll get hold of her and I'll snap her goddamn neck!"
I sit and wait as she's dragged out of the room and along the corridor. I can still hear her screaming for a few minutes, but finally she's out of earshot. Opening my logbook once again, I take a pen from my jacket pocket and pause for a moment as I try to decide how to record the outcome of this session. The truth is, I have been distracted by Abby Hart this morning, but at the same time, I need to let the new arrival stew for a while in her cell. As for Madeleine, I'm afraid that today's session wasn't particularly unusual. She still has a huge ego, and it'll take time to break through to her core.
Standard, I write in the logbook. No change.
With that, I close the book and enjoy the silence of my office for a moment. On most days, I'd have a steady stream of patients coming to see me, but apart from Madeleine, I've cleared my schedule for today. After all, Abby Hart is going to require some new techniques. She will be the greatest challenge of my professional life, but also the greatest victory. And when I'm done with her, the beast will finally have to acknowledge his error.
Abby Hart
"Hey!" I call out, my face pressed against the metal bars. "I can hear you! What's your name?"
The person in the next cell falls silent. For the past few minutes, I've been listening to him mumbling to himself in the darkness. At least, I think it's a guy; it's hard to tell, since the voice has been so quiet.
"It's okay," I continue, "I just want to talk."
Silence.
"My name's Abby," I add, hoping against hope that I might be able to spur him into conversation. "I'm new here. I guess you know that already. In fact, I guess you know a lot of stuff that I don't know, so I was wondering..." I pause again, aware that I might be wasting my breath. "Where is this place?" I ask eventually. "Can you at least tell me that? I don't know anything so far. No-one's talked to me or told me what the hell's going on, not properly."
At first, there's no reply, but after a moment I hear someone scrabbling across the stone floor, followed by a faint creaking sound. Whoever's out there, they clearly don't want to get into a conversation, which I guess I can understand. After all, most people in this place are bat-shit crazy, including the staff. I'm probably the only sane person in the entire building, so I probably stick out like a sore thumb. Still, I need some information, so I can't afford to hang back and be patient.
"What's your name?" I ask again, trying to sound friendly.
Silence.
"Come on," I continue, "all I'm asking for is a name. What harm can a name cause?"
"Felix," he replies, his voice sounding pained and tense. It's almost as if he's scared to say anything.
"Hey, Felix," I continue, relieved that I've finally managed to get a few words out of him. "How long have you been here?"
"Forever."
"You can't remember, huh?"
"I can remember," he says calmly, "and it's been forever."
"This is an asylum, right?" I continue. "Some kind of hospital?"
"Tor Cliff."
"That's the name of the place?"
Silence.
"Ragoth," I mutter, realizing that he must have sold me out. When he came to my apartment door last night, ranting about having made a mistake, he must have been trying to warn me. I guess he tried to make a deal for his daughter's release, but the fact that he ended up with his head sliced off makes me think that the deal didn't go quite as planned. I guess the people who run this place can't be trusted, but then again, why would they be so keen to get me here?
"No-one leaves Tor Cliff," Felix stammers, having clearly been indoctrinated.
"Let me guess," I reply bitterly. "There's a girl somewhere around here named Katia, right?"
"Never heard of her."
"Well, she's here," I say with a sigh. "And now, thanks to that treacherous old man, so am I."
"You don't wanna listen to Felix," says another voice suddenly, coming from a different cell. It sounds like an old woman, although in the darkness I can't see anything out there other than another set of bars.
"Hi," I say, "I'm -"
"I heard. I'm just saying, though, that you don't wanna listen to some mangy old werewolf. That's what Felix is, you know. He's not one of us. He's a filthy animal. I don't even know why they put him in here in the first place, but he stinks the place out. Even when he's in his human form, you can still smell the fur. God forbid he ever gets wet. The stink lasts for days."
I wait for Felix to say something, but he seems to have fallen completely quiet. I guess the old woman has scared him back into silence.
"That's better," the woman continues. "You go sit in the corner of your cell and don't make a noise. No-one here wants to listen to your garbage anyway."
"Aren't you being a bit harsh?" I ask.
"He's a werewolf!" she replies, as if the idea is repellant. "I'm not saying he doesn't have a right to exist, but there's no way in hell he should be a
round any of us. It's degrading, putting a common werewolf in with a group of vampires. It lowers the tone of the place."
"It's an asylum," I reply, shocked by her attitude. "How much lower can the tone get?"
"We have rules here," she continues. "Among the patients, I mean. No swearing or curse words. No talk of escape or getting out. No violence. No questioning of authority. And above all, no fraternization with the lower species. Any time a werewolf or some other piece of vermin is brought here, we vampires ignore them. Everyone knows that vampires are the highest species of all. We're noble and strong."
"And we also build places like this," I point out.
"There's nothing wrong with Tor Cliff," she says quickly, almost as if she's proud of the place. "We were put here for a reason. In their wisdom, our superiors have chosen to help us. We should be grateful."
"Grateful for the fact we're being held prisoner?" I ask, shocked by her attitude.
"They only want to help us," she continues. "Dr. Cole wants to fix our heads, so we can be strong again."
"My head's fine already," I tell her, "and if you don't mind, I'll talk to who I want, when I want."
"You know what I mean," she mutters, clearly not impressed by the fact that I'm daring to challenge her. "Maybe you don't see it yet 'cause you're new here, but you'll pick up on his stench soon enough. It permeates the whole place, getting into your clothes. I don't know why the hell they have to have him here. They could at least keep him in his own part of the building. It makes my skin crawl to even think of the fleas he must have -"
"I get the idea," I say, interrupting her before turning to look in the direction of Felix's cell. "Are you still there, Felix?" I ask, before realizing that it was kind of a dumb question. "Of course you're still there," I mutter, tugging on the bars on my cell door. "What can you tell me about this place?" I ask. "I need to know what the hell's going on here."
I wait for a reply, but the old woman's words seem to have driven Felix back into silence.
"Who's in charge?" I continue. "Where are we? What's going to -"
