AHC2 Vampire Asylum

by Amy Cross

  Something rumbles in the distance, like thunder but not thunder. The whole building seems to shake for a moment, as if whatever caused the noise is coming from deep below. I pull the sheet back over the old woman's face, and although I have no idea what I'm going to do next, I feel absolutely certain that this is the night when it all ends. I can't go on living like this, and I can't allow Nurse Silk's tormentors to get away with murder. If nothing else, I have to make sure that they pay with their lives, and if I have to die too, then at least I'll finally have done something courageous. Better late than never.

  "You looking for me?" asks a voice nearby.

  Turning, I'm stunned to see a figure walking toward me through the shadows. My senses are tingling as I realize that I recognize her scent, but at the same time I can't allow myself to believe that it could really be her.

  "Hey, Felix," Nurse Silk says, stopping and smiling. She's naked, with a thick, congealed scar on her chest where she was stabbed, but there's a faint smile on her face, as if she's proud of herself for having managed to somehow cheat death. "You look surprised," she continues, reaching her hand out to me, as if she wants me to go with her. "There's not a lot of time to explain, my darling, but we need to get the hell out of here."

  Chapter Six

  Abby Hart

  "You'd do well to pay attention," Nurse Fletcher says as she leads me down the stairs. "Not many people ever get to play such an important role in the development of their species."

  All around us, Tor Cliff seems to be coming under attack. The walls, the ceilings, the floor... everything seems to be vibrating, as if some huge force is trying to pound the place into submission. Sure, Dronigan was on the offensive earlier, but this feels like something different, something bigger, something that's bound to break through eventually. As we reach the main hallway, I spot a figure stepping through the high, arched doorway, and I immediately recognize him.

  "The beast is back," Dr. Cole says, stopping ahead of me. "It's been a while."

  "You have no idea how long I've waited for this moment," the beast replies as he walks quickly toward us. "All those centuries spent plotting away beneath the main building, and finally I'm able to come up again." He stops in front of Dr. Cole, and there's a look of genuine happiness in his eyes. "We've worked against one another for so long," he continues, "and yet at the same time, I feel that in doing so we were also cooperating. Perhaps we were always destined to pool our resources again one day."

  "I couldn't agree more," Dr. Cole replies, shaking his hand before turning to me. "The timing is perfect, too. We finally have the one specimen who can help us complete our work."

  "Did she do it?" the beast asks with a smile. "Did she plunge the dagger into your heart, as I instructed?"

  "Almost," Dr. Cole explains. "She hesitated, and I had to do it myself."

  "Such a shame," the beast continues. "I had hoped to blacken her heart by turning her into a cold-blooded murderer. I knew you would never have been injured, of course, but I felt it was important to make Abigail believe that she could kill someone in such a manner." He pauses. "Never mind. It wasn't integral to the plan, and I'm certain that we can still get our work done. We'll just have to try some more unusual methods."

  "What do you have in mind?" Dr. Cole asks.

  "So many possibilities," the beast replies, starting to walk slowly around me, as if he wants to examine me from every angle. "I almost hesitate to make a decision."

  "I'll make it for you," I mutter, trying but failing to get free from Nurse Fletcher's grip.

  "You won't be getting out of here," the beast continues, walking behind me. "Believe me, Abigail, we've waited a long time for this moment, and there's absolutely no way that we'll allow you to simply walk out. Tor Cliff was built for us, and we were born to fulfill the next stage of vampire evolution. For that purpose, we have had to seek out new ways to purify the gene pool. After all, one doesn't want scum to get into the bloodline, does one?" He stops in front of me. "It's not your fault," he adds with a smile. "You just happen to have been born with very pure, very noble blood, and it would be such a shame if you were to keep it to yourself."

  "There's something in her head," Dr. Cole adds. "Something hidden."

  "I know," the beast continues, peering into my eyes. "I sensed it as soon as she arrived. Someone went to great lengths to bury it as deep as possible, but the tell-tale signs are there."

  "Maybe you shouldn't interfere," I point out, trying to come up with a way to get out of this mess. "I mean, maybe the person who hid it had a damn good reason."

  "Maybe," the beast replies. "That's certainly worth considering. However, let me propose another possibility. What if this thing, whatever it is, was hidden in such a way as to only ever be found by someone worthy of the prize? What if it was left specifically for us, on account of the fact that we're so superior to the rest of the species?" He leans closer, until I can feel his hot breath on my face. "Whoever hid this thing in your head, Abigail," he continues, "left the tiniest of threads visible, almost as if to taunt us. Wouldn't you like us to pull that thread and see what unravels?"

  "I'd rather watch you unravel," I spit at him.

  "Such determination," he mutters. "I do hope that you still have a bit of fight left in your soul, Abigail, even after we've carved this secret from your mind. It would be very sad if there was nothing left of you but a gibbering vegetable, but then sadness cannot be avoided in the world. What will be, will be."

  "Abigail has shown remarkable resilience so far," Dr. Cole adds. "I doubt she's even been aware of it, but we've been testing her regularly. She even survived a direct encounter with Dronigan, although there appear to have been some side-effects. As you might have noticed, Dronigan's behavior has become a little more erratic, although I've already begun a process that I believe will calm him down."

  "No matter," the beast replies, reaching up and grabbing my jaw before turning my head to one side, as if he's examining my neck. "Dronigan's usefulness is almost at an end. As with Tor Cliff itself, he has served a purpose, but that purpose will soon have been achieved." He smiles. "How does it feel, Abigail, to know that we went to so much effort in order to lure you here?"

  "Why don't you release me for a few seconds?" I ask. "Let me show you how it makes me feel?"

  "Is there any sign of anyone in charge?" the beast asks, ignoring my suggestion and instead taking a step back, before reaching down to his waist and removing a large, heavy-bladed sword from its sheath. "Is anyone keeping an eye on us, or have we been left to our own devices?"

  "If there's a proper doctor on duty," Dr. Cole replies, "he's been keeping a very low profile. Either that, or he lost his mind along ago and has forgotten his responsibilities. I imagine he's in one of the cells, rotting away like all the others. It'd be a waste of time looking for him."

  "Then I suppose we must begin," the beast says, fixing me with a determined stare. "Abigail, I very much hope that as much of your mind can be preserved as possible, but there is a chance that this is the last time you'll ever have possession of all your faculties. You will certainly survive our procedure, but your conscious, intelligent mind might very well be damaged. If that is to be the case, I hope you will take some solace from the knowledge that unlike so many other unfortunate creatures, your suffering will not be in vain."

  "I can't promise to return the favor," I tell him, as Nurse Fletcher lets go of my arms and steps back, leaving me standing in the center of the hallway, with only the beast nearby. It's as if I'm suddenly being challenged to make a break for my freedom, although I have no doubt that they've got me covered. Whatever I do, and whatever I try, I'm sure they'll be ready to stop me.

  "Are you not going to attack me?" the beast asks, with a confident smile. "I can almost hear your heart pounding, Abigail. The next move is yours, but whatever you choose, the outcome will be the same." He pauses, as if he's hoping that I might take the bait. "I've heard a lot about you, Abigail," he continues. "I kno
w you're not one to just slip away without a fight. You can try to act as if you're strong-willed, but sooner or later you'll show your true colors, even if there's no way you can possibly get away from this place."

  "Forgive me if I don't take your word for that," I mutter, before lunging straight at him, opening my mouth at the same time and hissing as I extend my fangs.

  "Let the operation begin," he replies, swinging the dagger at me.

  Before I have time to react, I feel a sharp pain cutting across my neck; although I try to land directly on the beast's chest, he manages to push me away and I spin through the air before landing hard against the stone floor and rolling several meters until I come to a rest next to one of the walls. Blinking furiously, I try to get to my feet, but as the beast approaches and smiles down at me I realize that something's seriously wrong.

  "That was even easier than I anticipated," he says, reaching down and grabbing me by the hair before hauling me up and holding me at eye level. "They always say the first cut is the deepest," he continues, "and now I finally know what they mean."

  I try to tell him to go to hell, but all I manage is a faint growl. For some reason, I can't manage to move my arms or legs, and I feel strangely weak, as if something's preventing me from gathering the energy that's required in order to fight back.

  "Behold," the beast says proudly, grabbing the side of my face and turning me until I spot a headless body on the floor, with blood pouring from its neck stump. "We were going to have to do something similar anyway," he continues, holding the sword up close to my face so that I can see the thick trails of blood smeared across its glinting metal surface, "but this rather saves us the trouble of a neat cut."

  Staring at the decapitated corpse, I suddenly realize that it's wearing exactly the same kind of nurse's uniform that I was wearing a moment ago. As the beast turns the blade in front of me, I finally catch sight of my reflection, and to my horror I see that my neck is now a bloody, pulpy mess, with blood dribbling down onto the ground. At first, I can't even begin to accept the truth, but finally I realize what has happened. The pain around the base of my neck is getting worse and worse, but at the same time I can feel myself becoming weaker.

  "This way, Ms. Hart," the beast says, as he carries my decapitated head up the stairs toward Dr. Cole's laboratory. The last thing I hear, before I completely lose consciousness, is his voice as he taunts me. "Just a few more cuts," he continues, "and then we'll finally see what's hidden so deep inside your mind."

  Epilogue

  "Tell me," Katia whispers, with her face just inches from the door. "Tell me the truth, and then I promise, I'll let you in."

  "But how will you know it's the truth?" Dronigan replies, keeping his voice low. "What if you don't like the truth, and you take your rage and anger out on me instead of seeking out those who are responsible? The world is full of people whose justified anger is directed toward the wrong people. This much, at least, I have learned."

  "Just tell me," she continues, with tears streaming down her cheeks. "I think... Just tell me..."

  "You already know."

  "I need to hear it."

  "Are you sure?"

  She nods. "Yes," she whimpers eventually, leaning forward and pressing her forehead against the door.

  "Your father is dead," Dronigan continues. "I felt his presence pass through my realm a long time ago, as the last of his dreams were expelled from his corpse. It's a common occurrence, and I see millions every day, but he caught my attention since I recognized certain elements of his mind. He was like you in many ways, Katia. His dreams and nightmares had the same soul, the same vibrations."

  "You're lying," she replies, trying to stay strong. "There's no way my father would allow himself to be so easily tricked! He was a man who kept to his word! People trusted him! He's known throughout the seven worlds as a kind and honest merchant."

  "Open the door," Dronigan tells her, "and I'll let you understand everything. The confusion you're feeling will fall away and in a fraction of a second you'll be able to see the truth. Wouldn't you like that? Or are you too scared?"

  Placing her hand on the iron bolt that serves as the last remaining barrier to his entry, Katia pauses. "No," she whispers. "I can't do it. I know what you're like. I've seen what happens to the nurses you get hold of, or at least I've seen the scraps of skin you leave hanging in the forest. If I let you in, you'd kill us all in a heartbeat."

  "I wouldn't kill you," he replies.

  "I don't believe you."

  "You might be wise not to."

  "Why are you torturing me?" she asks. "I've never done anything to hurt you. I never resisted you in my dreams, I gave you everything you wanted every time you asked, so why can't you just leave me alone? I don't have anything left to give you!"

  "Ragoth was a good man," Dronigan says after a moment. "I saw his dreams many times, but in later years he became consumed by one desire and one desire only. He wanted to find you again. As his only daughter, your disappearance robbed him of all the joy in his life. When he learned that you had been brought to Tor Cliff, he grew obsessed with the idea of getting you released. He begged them to reconsider their decision, but they wouldn't budge, and eventually he did the only thing that offered any hope."

  "That can't be true," Katia insists, her voice trembling through the tears. "My father is a good man. He's kind and honest and loyal. He'd never betray anyone."

  "But -"

  "I know in my heart," she says firmly, "that no matter how much he was tested, he would never, ever stoop so low as to hurt someone else."

  "But he did," Dronigan continues. "Night after night, he imagined what it would be like to trade one vampire for another, and finally he decided to give them Abigail Hart. That element of the bargain, at least, was kept, but unfortunately for your father, he had chosen to deal with men who had no sense of honor. Once they had obtained what they wanted, they cut him down and -"

  "No!" she blurts out. "It's not true!"

  "They cut him down," Dronigan explains, "and they left him dead on the floor, like a piece of trash. Meanwhile, they dragged Abigail Hart here to Tor Cliff, and now they're going to carry out the experiments of which they've dreamed for so long." He pauses. "Even Dr. Cole and the beast have dreams, you know. Every living creature in this building, and even a few of the dead ones, dream at night. From the most insane madman to the smallest insect, I hear all those dreams and nightmares and I feed upon them. Even yours, Katia."

  "All I ever wanted was to be reunited with my father," she replies. "If what you're saying is true -"

  "You going to need another dream."

  She shakes her head.

  "Dreams can be replaced," he continues. "You must look back into your past, Katia, and try to remember the dreams you had before you came to Tor Cliff. You were more than this, once; your destiny never was, and never will be, to assist a crazed and cruel old man with his experiments. There is so much more to you."

  "I barely remember the days when I wasn't here," she tells him. "I have flashes of memory, just images really, but it's almost as if my entire life started on the day I was brought here for the first time."

  "But you must try to think further back."

  "I remember my father -"

  "Think back to your younger days," he continues. "Think back to the depths of your soul. It's all in there somewhere, hidden but intact. You just have to find the threads and pull on them."

  "There's nothing, I just..." She pauses as the fog in her mind threatens to lift for a moment, and finally she's struck by the image of herself standing at the main gate of Tor Cliff, facing the building's vast facade with an air of confidence. "That can't be right," she continues. "I was kidnapped, brought here by force -"

  "Were you?" Dronigan asks. "I recall your arrival, Katia. You walked calmly up the steps. You had a confident look in your eyes. There was no fear, no doubt; you were certain that you were in the right place, and you gave off an air of absolute superior
ity." He pauses. "You even smiled."

  "Why would I do that?" she replies.

  "Perhaps you were confident," he continues. "Perhaps you felt uniquely capable of getting this place in order. After all, you have extensive experience. You've worked in many hospitals over the years, and you've dealt with so many difficult patients. Don't be ashamed of your sense of self-worth; it was hard-earned, and you were as well-equipped as anyone else to take charge of this place. It's really not your fault that Tor Cliff is beyond the means of anyone to control."

  She stares into space for a moment, and even though Dronigan's words make no sense to her, she can't deny a strange sense of familiarity with the idea that once, long ago, she wasn't filled with fear. She even remembers some of the things that Dronigan is telling her about, and she can't bring herself to call him a liar.

  "Do you not remember the real reason for your arrival?" Dronigan asks. "You might be a nurse now, and you were a prisoner before, but earlier than all of that, you had another purpose..."

  "To cure them," she whispers, her hand still resting on the bolt that keeps the door locked.

  "To cure them," Dronigan repeats.

  "I was a doctor," Katia continues. "I... I was hired to come here and treat them, and then..." She pauses once again as she struggles to remember how she could have ended up locked in a cell and then dropped down into the cavern of the beast. "None of this makes sense," she says eventually, even though she's starting to remember her earlier life, when she trained for years and eventually became first a doctor, and then a psychiatrist. All the memories that she lost - of struggling with her studies; of working with her first patients; of being recruited to take charge at Tor Cliff - come flooding back, but she can't quite put them in the right order.

  "Your father's recollections were manipulated," Dronigan continues. "I was sent to alter his dreams so that he believed you had been dragged to Tor Cliff against your will. It was anticipated that he would seek to get you out, and that the only bargaining piece he possessed was a single item of knowledge. He was aware of the location of Abigail Hart, and the beast manipulated the situation in order to make Ragoth try to strike a deal. It was the only way for him to get what he wanted, which was the presence of Abigail within these walls."