The Prison

by Amy Cross

  “Is that her?” she whispered.

  “I...” Leonora leaned forward in her wheelchair, narrowing her eyes in an attempt to get a better look. “It is,” she said finally, her voice filled with awe. “It's Elenora, it's my sister, she -”

  Before she could finish, the lights flickered again and the figure was gone.

  “Why doesn't she come?” Leonora asked. “I thought she was waiting for me!”

  Wheeling her forward, Grace couldn't help but look over her shoulder, in case Elenora appeared again.

  “Are you sure we're safe?” she asked. “There are stories about -”

  “We're family,” Leonora said firmly as they reached the spot where, moments earlier, Elenora had been standing. “She won't hurt family, she'd never do that, not unless...” She paused for a moment. “Not unless I've been wrong this whole time. I've been waiting for her, I've even had members of the extended Blake family kept under surveillance for a number of years, so that I could keep track of Elenora's work and anticipate when she'd be ready to make her move, but what if...”

  Her voice trailed off, and seconds later the lights flickered again before the corridor was plunged into darkness.

  “Power cut,” Grace whispered.

  “She's ready,” Leonora replied, her voice filled with tension. “Whatever she wants, she thinks it's hers now and she's prepared to do whatever it takes, she...” She paused again, as if she was starting to understand the truth. “It's me,” she added finally. “I've been waiting for her, and she's been waiting for me. She's still angry at me for abandoning her.”

  ***

  “Amanda,” Doctor Bell said, leaning closer, “can you hear me?”

  She waited.

  No reply.

  “Amanda,” she said again, with a little more urgency, “if you can hear me, just give me some kind of sign.”

  She waited.

  Nothing.

  “Animals,” she added finally, taking a step back and looking down at the thick bandages around the side of Amanda's torso. “That's all they are. Animals in cages.”

  Heading over to the counter, Doctor Bell took a moment to clear away the various blood-stained tools she'd been using in her desperate attempt to save Amanda's life. Her hands were still trembling as she turned back to look at the patient.

  “I hesitate to use such childish terminology,” she said quietly, “but you're in God's hands now. Not that God exists, but the point stands. Either way...” She paused for a few seconds, as if she was finally understanding something. “What perfect timing. I think perhaps it's time to bring the main experiment forward a few steps.”

  On the table, Amanda remained perfectly still. And then, with no warning, the lights flickered for a moment before failing completely, plunging the medical unit into darkness.

  ***

  “Do you realize how filthy and depraved you are?” Doctor Bell asked a couple of minutes later, as she used a torch to get a better view of Chris's bandaged face. “You and your kind, you're all... disgusting, sub-human. There's nothing redeemable about you. When push comes to shove, you're nothing more than a bunch of savages.”

  Chris let out a faint gasp as the doctor began to pull away all the bandages. Whereas before she'd always taken care not to cause any more damage, this time Doctor Bell showed no such concern and was ripping each blood-stained bandage from the girl's skin, until the light from her torch picked out Chris's damaged face.

  “Don't worry,” the doctor continued, picking up a battery-powered electric razor and starting to quickly shave the patient's head, “it'll all be over soon.”

  A couple of minutes later, with Chris's head now bald, she set the razor down.

  “All my adult life,” she explained, grabbing a circular saw from the counter, “I've been working on one key project, with one central question in mind. What makes one person good and another person bad? I know there are people out there who believe it's all due to luck and environment, but I'm convinced there's something deeper, something physical that's hidden in the human brain, and if that's the case...”

  She pressed a button on the side of the saw, causing the blade to immediately start spinning.

  “I've been studying x-rays of your head, Christine,” she continued, “and so far you fit perfectly into my new theory. There's a region of the brain just above the cortex that seems to be a primary selector for good versus evil. If I'm right, I can manipulate that region in any individual and cause them to move one way or the other along the scale. I can make a good person bad, and vice versa. I could turn Adolf Hitler into a saint and I could Gandhi into the cruelest man who ever drew breath. I know that sounds simplistic, but all my work has led to this point, and now I'm ready to try it out. Well, I had to do something once I realized I couldn't be a surgeon.”

  Her hands trembled as she moved the spinning saw closer to Chris's shaved head.

  “Imagine being able to take all the evil out of the human race,” she added. “No more praying to God, no more relying on other people to do the right thing. I could just reach into your head and flick a switch, instantly making you kinder, more compassionate, smarter, more useful. It's like eugenics for the mind, and I'm on the edge of proving the theory. I just need to conduct a few more tests, and I'm afraid that there'll need to be some sacrifices along the way.” She paused, as tears ran down her face. “Imagine being able to perform the same operation on myself. I could get rid of all my evil thoughts. I could make myself a good person. That's all I ever wanted.”

  She moved the saw even closer.

  “At least your pain will be over,” she whispered. “You should really thank me.”

  With that, she began to press the edge of the blade against the side of Chris's skull, forcing the metal to start grinding first through skin and then through bone, leaving a thin sprinkling of bone-dust to fall down onto the bed-sheet. Ignoring Chris's gasps of pain, the doctor continued to press the saw deeper with her trembling hands, until she felt the blade breaking through the skull and hitting the brain.

  And then she heard the scream.

  Pulling the saw back, she turned and aimed the torch down just in time to see Elenora Blake standing behind her, screaming as if she was in absolute agony.

  “What do you want?” Doctor Bell shouted, with the spinning saw still in her hand.

  Finally, ignoring the scream altogether, she turned back to Chris and used the torchlight to check the wound, which was leaking a steady stream of blood and cranial fluid.

  “I've ignored you most of my life,” she said to herself, “so I think I can ignore you for a moment longer. Sorry, little girl.”

  With that, she resumed her work, grinding the saw through the side of Chris's head. Elenora was still standing behind her, still screaming at the top of her lungs, but the doctor was determined to ignore any attempt at an interruption, and finally she managed to get a section of skull loose, pulling it away to reveal Chris's brain.

  “I'm sorry you have to be conscious for this,” she muttered, barely able to hear her own voice over the scream, “but if I'm right, I can't remove this particular section in a useful manner unless your heart's still beating, and I don't want to risk giving you any more drugs, not in your current state.”

  Chris groaned again.

  Elenora's scream, if anything, became even louder, as if she was channeling the pain.

  “Here goes nothing,” Doctor Bell said, using the saw to cut away a section of brain, before putting the tool aside and using her fingers to part the spongy sections. Chris's moans were becoming more twisted and pained, but the doctor was focused entirely on digging her trembling fingers deeper and deeper until finally she reached the section she was seeking, at which point she pulled a scalpel from her pocket and began to dig out a very precise chunk, barely as large as a pea, which she pulled out and held up to the torchlight.

  “And now that's gone,” she said with a faint smile, “I have a feeling that you, Christine Bradford, are go
ing to be a completely different person. No more inhibitions, no more voice of reason holding you back. Not that you were a particularly great person to start with. You were trash, like everyone else in this prison, but now... Now you can fulfill your truest potential. You'll be truly evil, and then I can start reverse-engineering the process so that I can make a person truly good.”

  She quickly untied all the straps that were holding Chris to the bed, and then she filled another syringe and injected its contents into the side of Chris's neck. Turning, she looked down at Elenora, who was still screaming.

  “All those years you were watching me,” she sneered, “and taunting me, and now look at you. You failed, didn't you? Whatever you wanted, you won't get it. I don't know why you're so interested in me, but this is the end. I'm so far beyond the point of -”

  Suddenly the torch's battery died, plunging the room into darkness.

  “Jesus,” Doctor Bell muttered, reaching out to feel the wall as she began to work her way toward the door, all the while ignoring the scream to the best of her ability.

  After a moment, she found the door and made her way out into the main room. As soon as she pulled the door shut, the scream stopped, and she finally allowed herself a moment to draw breath. With the storm still raging outside, she fumbled her way over to the desk and set the pea-sized piece of brain down, before taking a seat and staring at her discovery.

  “Was I right?” she asked. “Are you the only part of the human brain that decides whether we're good or bad? Can I use this discovery to make myself a better person?”

  Hearing a clattering sound from the next room, she looked over at the door and a faint smile crossed her lips.

  “It's time,” she added, looking at Amanda. “Do you know what? This has actually worked out perfectly. I have a great opportunity to see whether Christine Bradford has now had all the goodness in her mind washed away. I'm sorry, but if there's a chance to test my theory, I have to try!”

  Before she could finish, she heard the click of a nearby door, and she looked across the dark room just in time to see that Chris had risen from the bed.

  “Hello, monster,” Doctor Bell said with a smile.

  Fifteen years ago

  “So Dan thinks you're kinda weird,” Julie said as she hung her coat on the hook. “I think you've still got a chance with him, but you definitely need to do some damage control.”

  “I'm fine, really,” Deborah replied, sitting cross-legged on her bed as she studied one of the textbooks for her upcoming term. She tried to focus on what she was reading, but as Julie drunkenly stumbled across the room and flopped down onto the other bed, a stench of stale beer began to fill the room.

  “Fuck, I'm tired,” Julie muttered, lighting a cigarette.

  “Do you have to do that?” Deborah asked, trying to remain polite.

  “I told you, the alarm's out of action. It's cool.”

  “Yes, but... That's not entirely the point.”

  Pausing, Deborah realized that there was no way Julie was going to listen to her. She tried once again to focus on her reading, but after a couple of minutes she felt compelled to look over at her room-mate, only to see that Julie had fallen asleep with the lit cigarette in her hand, just a few inches above her bedsheets.

  “You...” she started to say, before once again her mind began to fill with images: she saw Julie trapped in an inferno, her hair and skin burning away to reveal the screaming skeleton beneath. If anything, these images were stronger than the ones in the bar earlier, since this time she could see the lit cigarette still burning in Julie's hand, and she knew that she had a genuine chance to go through with the plan.

  “No,” she whispered, “I'm not going to do bad things anymore, I -”

  Spotting movement nearby, she turned to see the little girl watching her from the shadows.

  “Why do I have to do this?” Deborah asked, with tears in her eyes. “Is that what you want? I'm just supposed to go around doing the cruelest things imaginable? Why do you fill my head with these thoughts?”

  She waited for a reply, but as usual the girl said nothing.

  Slowly, Deborah got to her feet. As she made her way over to Julie's bed, she saw even stronger images in her mind, images of her room-mate being hacked to pieces with an ax while screaming for mercy. It was as if these impulses were crowding into Deborah's head with such forcefulness that she could no longer hold them back. No matter how hard she tried to remind herself that she'd sworn these days were over, she found herself leaning forward and gently taking the cigarette from Julie's hand before setting it down on the duvet.

  Seconds later, the flames began to spread.

  “How drunk are you?” Deborah whispered.

  Turning, she saw that the little girl was still watching, her face as impassive as ever.

  “This is what you wanted, isn't it?” Deborah asked. “More pain. More death. It's not enough for you that I killed my little brother all those years ago, you want me to keep doing these things over and over until... Until what?” She wiped away a tear that had begun to run down her cheek. “Fine,” she added finally. “This is who I am. It's what I do. It's not like I can flick a switch and become a good person. I don't know why you -”

  “What the fuck?” Julie said suddenly as she blinked awake.

  Looking down at her, Deborah saw that the flames had spread to her room-mate's dress.

  “What's happening?” Julie shouted. “What -”

  Before she could cause a disturbance, Deborah leaned down and clamped a hand over Julie's face, holding her down as the flames spread. Even as the fire began to burn her own hands, she knew there was no way she could let go until she was certain that the job was done, so she pushed Julie's head down until her face was directly in the flames. As her mind became increasingly blank, all Deborah could do was stare into the flames and watch as her room-mate's face continued to burn, while her own hands were also being consumed by the fire.

  By the time the campus fire crew arrived, they found Deborah with her hands still plunged into the flames. As she was pulled away, with her hands blackened and charred, she sobbed that she'd been trying to save Julie, whose dead body lay at the heart of the fire.

  Today

  “Are you sure about this?” Grace asked as she hurriedly pushed Leonora's wheelchair along the dark corridor. “If we -”

  “There's no time to waste,” Leonora hissed, “not if my sister's plan is being put into action. That poor child, she's become so twisted and warped over the past century, but we have to stop her. She killed all those women when she was alive, and now she's going to cause even more misery in death.”

  “But -”

  Before she could finish, Grace stopped as she spotted a figure up ahead. Instinctively, she assumed that it must be Leonora, only to realize after a moment that it was someone taller. As the figure stepped closer, his face finally emerged from the gloom.

  “Andrew!” Grace shouted, rushing past the wheelchair. “I'm so -”

  She stopped in her tracks as soon as she saw the dead look in his eyes, as if he was staring at her from the other side of some great invisible barrier.

  “What's wrong?” she asked. “Andrew, you -”

  “He's dead,” Leonora said suddenly.

  Grace shook her head, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing.

  “Elenora didn't have a family when she was alive,” the old woman continued, “so she's trying to gather one now that she's dead.”

  “No,” Grace replied, reaching forward to touch Andrew but holding back at the last moment. “This can't be real!”

  “He must be one of us,” Leonora explained. “He's part of the huge Blake family too. I thought he wasn't, but I was wrong.”

  “He can't be!” she shouted. “He -”

  “Let me guess, you and this young man have been enjoying a romantic entanglement?” She paused. “That's not even a guess, to be honest. As I told you, I've been surveilling everyone associated w
ith this prison for quite some time. If it makes you feel any better, the pair of you are only very distant cousins, several times removed. There's really no reason why you shouldn't have been doing what you were doing. It's legal.”

  “He can't be dead,” Grace whispered, with tears running down her face. “He can't be...” She turned to Leonora. “Bring him back!” she shouted.

  “There's nothing I can do. There's nothing anyone can do. Elenora is quite, quite mad. She should never have been left here for so long. I should have done more to help her.”

  “Andrew, talk to me,” Grace said firmly. “I know you can hear me!”

  “You're too late to help him,” Leonora replied, reaching out and taking her hand. “We have to hurry, there are more than two hundred lives at stake!”

  “Andrew, it's me!”

  “I don't have time for this,” Leonora said, reaching down and starting to turn the wheels of her chair. Although she was clearly struggling, she managed to maneuver herself past Grace and Andrew. “You're a very foolish girl if you think that standing here and begging for attention from a ghost is going to get you anywhere!”

  “Then what am I supposed to do?” she shouted, hurrying after her and starting to push the chair again. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that Andrew was already fading away. “I -”

  “Love him?”

  “Yes,” she continued, taking a left turn and pushing Leonora toward the main intake room. “I never really told him, but I loved him and -”

  “Too late for any of that nonsense now,” she replied. “We must ensure that the living are taken care of first, and then perhaps there will be time to come back and consider the needs of the dead. Now, how do we get the main door open?”

  “There's a button,” Grace told her as they reached the door. As she reached out to the console on the wall, however, she suddenly realized that without power, there was no way the system could possibly work. Still, she jabbed at the button several times, desperately hoping that it might somehow open the door. “There's no electricity,” she said finally. “Without power, none of the doors are going to work.”