SUSY Asylum

by Michael Pierce

  I sank to the floor as the elevator continued to rise, extending my right leg to relieve my ankle of all pressure.

  Cole nudged my ankle with his sneaker and I winced in pain.

  “Sorry, it’s tight in here and you’re taking up most of the floor space,” he said in a very unapologetic tone.

  “Do you miss home yet?” Jax asked.

  I didn’t respond or even look up at them.

  “You’re a long way from it now.”

  “Where are we going?” I asked, staring out into the peaceful-looking night. The serenity and beauty of the landscape below was yet another deception, making me feel all the more hopeless.

  “To the asylum, of course. Where else?” Cole said.

  “I don’t know.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  Then as suddenly as the landscape outside had appeared, it was gone, beyond the glass tube replaced by light grey walls. We slowed and came to a smooth stop. A pair of external doors slid open mere inches from the outside of the glass. The orderlies pulled me forcibly to my feet and I balanced on my good leg as much as possible. My right ankle throbbed so much more than when I had originally fallen. They dragged me through the glass and into the new, brightly lit building, causing me to squint until my eyes could adjust.

  “Welcome to SUSY Asylum, little buddy,” Jax said.

  The new space around me was awash in white light like I had died and gone to heaven, waking up to souls who had been waiting years for me to return.

  “He’s had a little accident,” Cole said to one of several blurry figures standing nearby.

  “We’ll examine him in prep. Place him on the gurney and we’ll take it from here,” I heard a soft female voice say.

  One of the orderlies reached down and scooped up my legs so I was being carried like a two-by-four. Seconds later, I was dropped onto the thin cushions of the gurney, and then felt straps being pulled tight across my chest and legs.

  My eyes were adjusting to the light, bringing into focus four female staff members dressed like they were prepped for surgery, standing around me performing various tasks. Two of them worked on my straps and one checked my vitals like blood pressure and heart rate. She shone a flashlight into my eyes and mouth, and poked and prodded me like a petri-dish specimen. The last lady stuck a needle into my arm and began extracting blood into small vials.

  I closed my eyes to keep from fainting. The needle pushed deep into the tight flesh below my elbow. I shivered from fear of what was coming next. Someone felt around my legs and I let out a cry when my right ankle was squeezed.

  “I believe it’s fractured,” one lady said.

  The needle was removed from my arm and the gurney began to roll down the hallway. The four women in surgical masks walked alongside the gurney as I was pushed deeper into the hospital. The walls looked like concrete without a finish on them; rough, grey, and drab. The doors we passed by looked entirely metal with small rectangular windows at about eye level. And they had doorknobs with keyholes—something I had not seen at any time in Provex City. As I was rolled farther down the hallway, the florescent lights above grew dimmer, to a level that was dimmer than any hospital I had ever been in before. They were locked behind metal mesh cages stretching across the center of the ceiling.

  “Where am I?” I asked groggily.

  “The SUSY Asylum for the Criminally Insane.”

  “Do I seem criminally insane?”

  “You’ll receive a full evaluation from Dr. Lorne herself—she evaluates every patient admitted here. She will determine when or if you will be considered safe to rejoin society. Until that time, she will create your personalized treatment program.”

  “Treatment program?”

  “You want to be well, don’t you? We desire that, too,” the front lady on my right said, who had stuck me with the long needle. She laid a hand gently on my arm as if to comfort me. “Dr. Lorne is the best in her field. You will receive the best treatment available.”

  I was rolled through swinging double doors and into a large room with five stainless steel tables shaped like crosses arranged in a circle, elevated off the ground by a central cylindrical column. Leather straps connected to the underside of the tables in regular intervals hung halfway to the ground—except for the two tables containing patients.

  Eli!

  Anna!

  “When I get out of here I’m going to kill you, Grain!” Eli yelled, wrestling with the straps confining him to his cross-like table.

  One of his doctors fastened a leather strap that went over his nose and under his chin, with a rubber bar in the middle thrust into his mouth. He grunted viscously through the mouth piece, his body thrashing as much as his constraints would allow. The doctor connected his head strap to a notch welded to the edge of the table.

  There was an empty table between Anna and Eli. Anna was already fully strapped in, head piece and all, with her body lying completely still. Both of them were stripped down to their underwear. They each also had four doctors attending to them, and there were bright lamps on extendable aluminum arms pulled directly over their tables, shining down like tiny suns.

  I could see that Anna was awake, her eyes wide and darting from side to side, but the rest of her body was in a frozen state. She glanced over at me as my doctors wheeled me to the table next to hers and one away from Eli’s. She had a metal cage-like contraption on her right ankle that extended about six inches up her leg. I could see at least three small rods or large needles running from the cage and into her flesh. Where the rods or needles entered her leg, there was a wrapping of white gauze with spreading red halos around the puncture wounds. One of her doctors was seated on a thin metal stool performing some kind of action to the top of her head. I couldn’t see what the busy doctor was doing, but it was obvious Anna could tell there was something happening and she was screaming through her eyes.

  The four women in green scrubs worked together to lift me off the gurney and onto the stainless steel table. Quickly, they secured me to the table with the straps as well. They were probably afraid I’d start fighting them like Eli, which maybe I should have. But I already felt so weak and powerless. Fighting would only prolong what they were about to do to me, and all I wanted was to get it over with, and hopefully find some comfort once in my personal suite—or more appropriately, my cell.

  One of the doctors left my side and returned a few moments later, rolling a metal cart with an assortment of instruments and another of the strange, cylindrical cage-like contraptions.

  I looked over at Eli just as he finished getting a large shot in his arm. His fighting grew weaker as whatever they plunged into his system took effect. That must have been why Anna seemed paralyzed. But his muffled yelling through his mouth piece was chilling over the metallic and rustling sounds of the working doctors.

  One of Eli’s doctors wrapped a section of his right calf in white gauze. A second doctor picked up the cage-like contraption intended for him and slipped it on over his right foot, positioning the middle of it over the band of gauze. She took four needles from the tray and screwed the backs of them onto the inside of the cage, one-by-one.

  Eli was hardly moving anymore, but he was still dreadfully awake—his yelling having turned to screaming, though the volume of his voice grew quieter.

  On the cylindrical column supporting the table, there was an electronic panel. The doctor connected one end of a gray cord to an attachment located on the edge of the panel, and the other end to the cage-like contraption surrounding the lower half of Eli’s leg. She flipped a switch on the panel and the roar of an electric drill screamed from the contraption.

  Eli screamed as loud as he could, which could barely be heard over the roar of the contraption.

  The doctor stood back up and held the cage in place around Eli’s leg as the needles began to slowly descend from the cage to his leg. All four needles simultaneously punctured the gauze, and then his skin. The gauze quickly soaked up the blood, which spread
like red ripples in a lake of white water. Then the machine powered down, leaving the needles protruding from his leg.

  The roaring sound stopped. Eli’s screaming stopped. He was now completely still—his only movement coming from his eyes, which were still wide awake.

  Then I saw one of Eli’s doctors was working on the back of his head, and like with Anna, I could not see what kind of procedure the doctor was performing.

  “You don’t have to do this,” I pleaded. I didn’t want to see my friends any longer, not in the condition they were in. And I had brought them here. I had delivered them like lab rats to a lunatic. I couldn’t bear to think that Desiree had gone through this same torture.

  “We do, my dear; it’s procedure,” the doctor standing by my head said with a calm voice just as she extended the strap over my nose and chin, with the mounted mouth guard in the center. My teeth bit down on the rubber rod, which tasted like antiseptic. She attached the strap to notches on the edge of the table. I followed her with my eyes and tried to say something further—plead my innocence like a death row inmate—but all I could do was grunt with the mouth guard securely positioned between my jaws.

  “It will keep your head still while we work on you,” she said. Her mask moved as she talked, but it was hard to make out any facial expressions. “The mouth guard will help keep you calm. Don’t worry, you won’t feel any pain.”

  I had already seen some of what they were about to do to me, which only made things worse. My whole body broke into a cold sweat as they continued to prep me for the incoming horrors. With my arms outstretched on the metal cross table, I was helpless to do anything but scream into my rubber mouth guard.

  Three of the doctors now had pairs of scissors and began cutting away my clothes, leaving me in my underwear. My shredded clothes were gathered up by one of the doctors, the pile placed into a white plastic bag and taken away.

  “You’ll feel some discomfort for only a few seconds,” one doctor said and plunged a large needle into my right arm, as I had seen done to Eli.

  Some discomfort? I felt like I was being stabbed to the bone, sending lightning shocks through my nerves down to my fingertips and up my neck. The shivering that followed was violent and uncontrollable, but stopped as soon as she pulled out the needle. Then I waited for whatever she had given me to take effect, hoping it would take effect before they began their real work.

  With my head strapped to the table looking up at the small halogen sun above me, I could no longer see Anna and Eli. I didn’t want to see them looking the way they did, but I began to feel so alone, so far from home in this insane world, helpless and wondering if this was the end for me—for all of us. Had I single-handedly killed our entire group?

  “Do you feel this?” the doctor who had injected me with what seemed to be some type of tranquilizer asked.

  I moved my eyes to look down and she was poking my hand with a dull instrument. I felt nothing, not even the pressure of being touched, like from the effects of Novocain. It was like my hand wasn’t even connected to my body. It was like my eyes and mind were disconnected from my body and I was observing someone else entirely. But I knew it was me even though I couldn’t feel it. The disassociated horror was way too real.

  The doctor standing by my right hand took a stainless steel instrument that had a wire like a cheese slicer and put it to my skin by the wolf-head tattoo. I shut my eyes immediately, not wanting to see what was going to happen next. I couldn’t feel a thing, but the movie in my head continued seamlessly from where my eyes left off. My imagination was as clear as my vision, and I couldn’t help but to see the doctor filleting my skin with the wire. My imagination wouldn’t allow me to close my eyes for a second time. And I couldn’t divert my gaze as my skin peeled away and blood poured from all sides of the enlarging wound.

  Then my body began to shake. The roar of a motor sounded again. I feared the contraption was being secured to my leg, the needles digging through skin and muscle. A whiff of burning flesh stung my nostrils, and I squeezed my eyelids tightly shut. I could picture too much in my mind, but I’m sure it was nothing compared to the horrific procedures being performed on my limp, numb, disassociated body. I could feel the pain in my head even though my body felt nothing. My mind filled in for my sleeping body. And I couldn’t even get out a satisfying scream. All that escaped past the rubber mouth guard were grunts and gurgles.

  A few minutes later, I felt like I was moving, but it could have just been me about to finally faint. It wouldn’t have been a bad thing. I could wake up in my room with the realization that this had all been a dream—a terrible dream.

  I opened my eyes just to make sure, to see if my vision was really going as I slipped away into unconsciousness. But it wasn’t the case. The spotlight above my head was moving to the side…or I was moving to the side and the light remained stationary. No, I was moving. My team of doctors had picked me up and was transporting me back to the gurney. I could see everything clearly as my eyes rolled around in their sockets. The other four tables in the surgery room were empty. Anna and Eli had already been taken to God knows where.

  Two of the doctors left, leaving the remaining two in charge of rolling me to my next destination, which I prayed was my room. I scanned the hallways as I was escorted down them, trying to remember each turn as best as I could. But I knew they’d get all jumbled in my head within a few minutes. This place was a labyrinth, and all the hallways and doors looked the same.

  Finally, the doctors stopped at a metal door like all the others—number 217—and one of the doctors removed a key ring from a clip on her scrubs. There was one small rectangular window at about eye level with thin blue crosshatched lines. The door swung out as the lock unlatched and the last doctor pushed me inside.

  “Here we are,” the doctor with the keys said. “Home sweet home.”

  I stared up at them as they attempted to lift me from the gurney to a bed against the wall. They strained to lift me now that it was just the two of them. But they managed, and dropped me like a bag of cement onto the bed. I would have given anything to see their faces, but none of the doctors from that surgery room ever removed their masks. I wanted a clear picture of who was doing this to us, but I was never given the satisfaction.

  “It’s time for you to get some sleep,” the doctor with the keys said. “You’ve had a long day.”

  The two doctors left me on the bed and exited the room, closing the heavy door behind them, tumblers rolling inside the door as I was locked in.

  My head was swimming so much that I couldn’t possibly sleep. I wanted to move so I could get a look at my surroundings, but I still felt detached from my body. All I could do was look directly overhead. Maybe I’d never regain the use of my body. Maybe this was it; I was a quadriplegic. The ceiling was a dull gray. The wall next to me that I could see out of the corner of my eye looked like it was made of large glossy black tiles—very different from the walls I’d seen elsewhere in the hospital. Asylum.

  The room was silent and eerie. I couldn’t hear anything from the hallway. The room seemed to be soundproof. If I screamed, no one would come to my aid. I wondered if there were cameras somewhere in the room so the doctors could look in at any time beyond the tiny hatched window in the door.

  How was I going to get myself out of this one? I highly doubted Mr. Gordon was going to save me this time and there was no chance of Desiree showing up since I was supposed to be rescuing her. I was in serious trouble; there was no doubt about it.

  As I thought about Desiree and how I would explain all this to Mr. Gordon, if I ever saw him again, I was startled by the sound of three beeps. What did they mean? Was something happening? I couldn’t see anything. I couldn’t hear anything else. Then I began to feel warm and woozy. My eyelids turned into iron shades, refusing to remain open.

  The wall and ceiling above me began to spin. Nausea crept up my throat, reminding me of the aftermath of eating the Jell-O shots at Desiree’s party. I didn’t want t
o throw up on the bed with my head frozen in an upward position. If I threw up, then I’d probably drown in my own vomit. I tried not to think of that. Then the spinning subsided as I saw pictures, figures, and shapes in the darkness. I could no longer determine whether I was awake or asleep. I was no longer…there…

  chapter―

  When I awoke, everything was dark. The only light came from the tiny window in the door, shining a thick ray like sunlight through the leaves of a patchy canopy. It took me a moment to realize that I was lying on my side facing the door. I tried moving my limbs, and they were working, but slowly, still in the process of coming out of anesthesia. My body was beginning to tingle with slight feeling, but I felt no pain.

  Across the room, there looked to be another bed and what looked like a figure asleep in it. But it was too dark to be sure.

  “Hello?” I called out with a rusty voice.

  There was no movement and no reply. The shadows and darkness must have been playing tricks on me. I tried to swing my legs off the side of the bed, but they felt like rubber logs. I decided it wasn’t worth the struggle of seeing if I could stand yet, and wondered how much longer I had until the lights came back on. I had no concept of what time of day or night it was. The feelings of weakness and disorientation consumed me like a growing tumor.

  I continued to stare across the room at the sleeping manifestation, confident in the light I would find myself alone—utterly alone—and back to square one.

  The three beeps from earlier startled me again, followed quickly by the creeping nausea, dizziness, and loss of consciousness. It all happened faster this time, and I was out before the fear could fully kick in.