AHC2 Vampire Asylum Page 4

  "Abigail!" a distant voice calls out. "It's me! Let me in!"

  Unable to quite place the voice, I get out of bed and grab a dressing gown before heading through to the hallway. As soon as I get close to the door I realize that I can detect Ragoth's scent, and a quick look through the peephole confirms this impression.

  "I didn't know you delivered," I say cautiously.

  "You have to let me in!" he insists, keeping his voice low. "I need to tell you something! You're in danger!"

  "What kind of danger?" I ask, reaching out toward the handle but pausing at the last moment. Ragoth seems different right now, as if he's filled with genuine terror.

  "I've done a terrible thing," he continues. "I don't expect you to forgive me, but at least let me warn you and help you! Please, I've done something terrible, but I thought I could get Katia back!"

  "What have you done?" I ask, trying to stay calm.

  "Open the door!"

  "Not yet," I reply, still watching him through the peephole. He looks flustered and worried, and he keeps glancing over his shoulder as if he expects to be interrupted at any moment. "Why don't you tell me why I won't forgive you?" I ask. "Then, maybe, I'll let you in."

  "Someone's coming!" he hisses. "I just heard the elevator doors open!"

  "This is an apartment building," I reply, still feeling a little on edge. "People come and go at all times. Now why don't you tell me -"

  "It's a woman!" he says, looking back toward the elevators. "There's a woman coming this way!"

  "Does she look human?" I ask.

  "Let me in," he replies, grabbing the door handle and trying to force his way through. "Please, Abigail! I came to help you!"

  Behind him, a woman comes into view. Although I'm alert for any kind of danger, I watch with a hint of relief as the woman, wearing a nurse's uniform, stops in front of the door on the opposite side of the hallway and starts going through her bag, clearly looking for her keys. She looks pretty innocuous, although something about this scene strikes me as being a little strange.

  "Please let me in," Ragoth whispers, leaning closer to the door.

  "Hang on," I reply, realizing that he's not going to go away unless I humor him. "I'll -" Suddenly something strange occurs to me. The apartment opposite mine has been empty for a month, ever since Mrs. Formby moved away. As the nurse continues to go through her bag, apparently having a hard time locating her keys, I start to realize that something might be seriously wrong here.

  "Abigail!" Ragoth hisses.

  At that, the nurse turns and looks directly at the peephole, and I immediately see that while most of her face appears to be normal, her eyes are dried out and rotten. Instinctively, I take a step back, and seconds later I hear a brief struggle out in the corridor, followed by a momentary cry of pain from Ragoth, and then silence.

  I wait.

  My heart racing, I turn and look through to the main room. I've always figured that, in an emergency, I could get out via the window, but now I'm starting to realize that perhaps I should have thought that plan through a little better. I'm up on the fifteenth floor, and although I'd survive the fall, I'm pretty sure I'd land on the glass roof of the restaurant outside my building, in which case I'd have some explaining to do. Then again, it'd be better than ending up dead.

  Before I can make a decision, there's a knock at the door.

  "Ms. Hart?" a voice calls out. "Abigail Hart?"

  I lean back toward the peephole and see that the nurse is staring straight at me, with a strangely impassive look on her face. Those two dead, desiccated eyes are fixed on me, almost as if she can see straight through the peephole.

  "I've been sent to locate you," she explains. "Someone would like to speak to you about a matter of great importance, but unfortunately they experienced some trouble when they tried to track you down."

  "I don't know who you're talking about," I reply, desperately trying to think of a plan. "I think you've got the wrong apartment. I'm -"

  "I know it's you," she says firmly, interrupting me. "I was hoping that you'd be willing to open the door and discuss the matter with me face-to-face. It's always so tiresome when I'm forced to make other arrangements for access."

  "I really don't know who Abigail Hart is," I reply. "I'm just -"

  "You're Abigail Hart," she replies firmly, "daughter of Patrick."

  "And Sophie," I mutter. "People always forget about her."

  "I would advise you to let me in," she says calmly.

  "Where's Ragoth?" I ask.

  "He's out here waiting," she replies.

  "I want to talk to him."

  "I'm afraid you'll need to open the door first, and then you'll be able to speak to him in person."

  "I'm afraid I'll need to talk to him first," I reply, starting to figure that maybe my best bet is just to go out there and deal with this crazy bitch. After all, despite her calm and confident demeanor, I'm pretty sure I can take her on. The strange thing, though, is that I'm not picking up any kind of scent from her. She doesn't seem to be vampire, or human, or werewolf, or... anything; Ragoth's scent is clear, but there's nothing from the nurse.

  "Ms. Hart?" she continues. "Please open the door."

  "In a moment," I reply. "First, I want to -"

  "That's a shame," she replies.

  I stare at her through the peephole for a moment. "What's a shame?" I ask eventually.

  "It doesn't matter."

  I pause. "What doesn't matter?"

  "I was just hoping that you'd come out voluntarily," she continues, "rather than forcing me to send my colleagues in there to haul you out."

  "Haul me out?" I reply, raising an eyebrow. "I'd like to see your colleagues even try to get through the door."

  "Oh, they're already inside," she says calmly.

  "They are, huh?" I ask, turning and glancing through to the front room, "then why -"

  Before I can finish, I realize that there are two figures standing in the shadows by my sofa, staring at me. I can't make out their features, but I have absolutely no doubt that they're dressed in the same kind of nursing uniform. Turning to look at the kitchen, I see two more nurses standing in the bright white light, staring at me. I look over my shoulder, and there are three more of them just a few feet away.

  "How the hell -" I start to say, before the closest nurse steps toward me and opens her mouth to reveal a pair of razor-sharp fangs.

  Before I can react, I'm grabbed from behind and thrown down onto the floor, while one of the other nurses opens the door and lets her colleague in from the hallway. As she does so, Ragoth's headless corpse slumps down to the floor, spilling blood from the stump of his neck.

  "Your presence is requested at Tor Cliff," the first nurse says, before frowning. "No, wait. That's the wrong word. Not requested."

  "Required," one of the other nurses says.

  "Yes, that's the one. Your presence is required, on the orders of Dr. Cole himself."

  "Fine," I reply, starting to get to my feet, "let me just grab my coat, an overnight bag, and my refusal to -"

  As the words leave my lips, I feel a long needle slide into the side of my neck, and by the time I've pushed a couple of the nurses away, my body is already feeling strangely numb and heavy. I try to stagger through to the front room, but my legs give way and I drop to my knees. Reaching up to my neck, I manage to find the syringe still sticking out of my flesh, but somehow I can't get my fingers to grasp it properly. Looking over my shoulder, I realize that the nurses are simply standing and watching, waiting for me to pass out.

  "Y -" I start to say, but the words just won't form.

  Crawling across the room, I try to reach the window, figuring that I need to throw myself out and hope that I can recover before these bitches find me. As I reach up to the sill, however, I feel myself being pulled down by the weight of my own mind. The last thing I feel is a set of hands grabbing me from behind and starting to pull me across the room, before everything goes completely dark and sil
ent.

  Dr. Cole

  "That's excellent news," I say as I walk away from my office. "Bring her straight here. I'll prepare a room for her."

  "There was one item of collateral damage," Nurse Fletcher replies, speaking to me over the phone. "We encountered Ragoth outside Abigail Hart's apartment. It seems he was trying to warn her of his betrayal, but we were able to neutralize him."

  "Permanently?"

  "As usual."

  "You've done a very good job," I tell her. "As always, I'm glad I can put my faith in you and your team. Your usual rewards will be awaiting you upon your return."

  "We're very grateful for that," she replies. "We're extremely hungry."

  "Go to the third ward," I tell her. "Take your pick."

  Once the call is over, I head through to my workshop. This time yesterday, I would never have believed that the great Abigail Hart might suddenly be available for my experiments; I'd dreamed of such a thing, of course, but I'd assumed that she must have hidden herself too well. Fortunately, the weakness of a foolish old man was more than enough to deliver Abigail to me, and now I face the delightful task of working out how to adapt my usual experiments to fit Abigail's rather more advanced physiology, and -

  As I reach my workshop, I stop in my tracks.

  Speaking of my 'usual experiments'...

  "I'm so sorry, Felix," I say, walking over to the generator and switching the dial down to zero. The current stops, and finally his body falls still. Checking my watch, I see that a program of electro-convulsive conditioning that was meant to last fifteen minutes has, in fact, gone on for more than eight hours. I simply became so caught up in all the excitement regarding Abigail Hart, I neglected to pay attention to my other duties.

  Stepping over to the table, I see that Felix's body is charred black, with steam rising from the surface. The aroma is strangely enticing, however, and seems to be a blend of bacon and fat.

  "Well," I say, grabbing a scalpel and gently scraping away some of the burned skin from his chest, "I dare say that you'll be able to heal these wounds over the next few days." Looking at his face, I watch as his eyes slowly open. Flecks of charred flesh fall onto his eyeballs, and he stares at me blankly, as if the ordeal has left him unable to remember much about his circumstances. "The psychological damage," I continue, "is likely to be immense. Still, we must turn this happy accident into an opportunity for further research, must we not? Sometimes the most exciting developments emerge when we least expect them."

  "Who..." He pauses, as if he can barely summon the strength to speak. "Who am I?" he asks after a moment.

  I stare at him.

  "Who am I?" he whispers again.

  "It doesn't matter," I reply with a smile. "Like everyone else here, your old life ended when you ended Tor Cliff. From now on, you're merely one of my patients. Believe me, that should be more than good enough for you." I pause for a moment. "Until today, you were the most important of all my patients, but I'm afraid that position has now been usurped. I don't even know why I spent so much time focusing on a mangy old werewolf."

  He stares at me, and it's clear that he doesn't understand.

  "Abigail Hart is here," I continue with a grin. "I'm sure that name means nothing to you, but it means a great deal to me. It means that my work will soon be complete, and the beast..." I look down at the stone floor, and for a moment I imagine that perhaps I can feel a slight vibration. "The beast will finally be satisfied," I add, "and the world will be re-ordered in my image."

  Stepping over to the mouthpiece on the wall, I hit a button and wait for Annie to answer.

  "Patch me through to the beast," I say firmly.

  "But -"

  "Do it!"

  There's a pause on the other end of the line, followed by a tinny ringing sound, and then finally silence.

  The same as always, then.

  "I know you can hear me," I continue, unable to suppress a faint smile. "I just wanted to let you know that my previous estimate has turned out to be far too conservative. There has been a development, and I shall now be able to skip ahead in my work." I wait for a reply, but as ever, he says nothing. "I just wanted to keep you up-to-date," I add, before closing the mouthpiece.

  I know the beast understands the situation, and I know he recognizes my genius. Soon, he'll be forced to bow down before me and admit that he was wrong all along. By the time I've finished ripping Abigail Hart's mind apart, the beast will finally acknowledge that I was right from the start. It has taken so long, but I'm going to make him eat his words and bow down before me.

  Part Two

  Into Hell

  Abby Hart

  Scraping at the stone floor, unable to see a damn thing in this narrow cell, I try to rid my mind of all extraneous thoughts. All that matters is that I get the hell out of here as fast as possible. I've already tried breaking through the door, and now I figure my best bet is to get through the floor and hope that it's possible to tunnel my way out. There are voices in the distance, though, getting closer, so I figure I need to play it cool. The last thing I need is to let them know that I'm already working on my escape.

  "What's she doing?" a male voice says, standing on the other side of the door.

  "I think she's trying to dig her way out through the stone floor," replies a female voice.

  Sighing, I stop for a moment as I realize that they're already onto me. I need a better plan.

  "She's already worn her fingernails down to the stubs," the female voice continues, "and she just keeps going. God knows what she thinks she's going to achieve."

  "I can hear you!" I say firmly, annoyed that they seem to think they can stand just outside my cell door and talk about me. "Just because you're whispering," I add, "I can still hear you, you know."

  "Did I mention that she's got a mouth on her?" the female voice says. "This is one sarcastic customer."

  "You haven't seen the half of it yet," I mutter under my breath.

  "My name is Dr. Cole," says the male voice, clearly assuming that I'm listening. "I'm the clinical head of this institute, and I'm going to be overseeing your recovery. You and I are going to be seeing a great deal more of one another over the next few weeks and months."

  Ignoring him, I start scraping at the floor again, although I've already come to accept that this plan isn't going to work. Still, if they think I'm still trying, they'll fool themselves into believing that they know what I'm really doing.

  "I understand that this must be a difficult time for you," the male voice continues, "but I hope we can become better acquainted. It's always much nicer to talk on good terms, don't you think?"

  "I wouldn't know," I say, getting to my feet and peering out through the bars on the cell door. "I'm not crazy, and I don't belong here, and I'm not staying."

  "I'm afraid the choice is not entirely yours," he says. "But don't worry, Abigail. We're going to take very, very good care of you while you're here. In fact, I think it's fair to say that we're going to put a nice big smile on your face."

  Staring at him, I realize that he's got the most smug, condescending face I've ever seen. It's as if he's convinced that he's in complete control, and he has no doubt that this goddamn cell door is going to hold me. I have no idea why he wanted to have me brought here, but I doubt it was simply so I could rot in the dark. He's planning something, something I'm not going to like, and I need to find a way to get the hell out of here.

  "I must say," he continues, "that it's something of an honor to meet you, Ms. Hart. I've heard so much about you, but unfortunately you've remained rather elusive over the years. A great many people have tried to find you. Fortunately, a mutual friend of ours was finally driven to the point of desperation. I expect that you mistook Ragoth's age for wisdom, and his placidity for dependability. You were wrong. He chose to betray you in order to gain what he wanted. He failed, of course, but by that point it was too late. He had already given away enough of your location."

  "Ragoth would never have
betrayed me," I reply. "He was a good man."

  "Good men are very good at betrayal," he says with a grin. "They have the advantage of surprise. And, of course, even the best man in the world has his price. For Ragoth, it was the safety of his daughter."

  "What is this place?" I ask, reaching up and grabbing hold of the bars. They're completely immovable, of course, but I figure I have to at least try.

  "You're at Tor Cliff," he replies, "the oldest and most prestigious vampire asylum in all the seven worlds. Or eight worlds, if you believe the raving words of one of our patients. This is where vampires put other vampires who have become too difficult to handle. Not just vampires, either. We have our fair share of werewolves and other creatures." He pauses. "I'm here to help you, Abigail. I'm here to end your suffering and ensure that you're able to move on with your life."

  "I'm fine thanks," I reply. "So, I guess you can just let me walk on out of here."

  "I'm afraid you require a great deal of therapy," he says with a grin. "Your arrival was somewhat unanticipated, but I'm sure I can work up a program before too long. It's vitally important that we get to the bottom of your deep-rooted issues and learn why you behave in such an aggressive manner."

  "Why don't you come in here?" I reply. "Why don't you let me give you some first-hand experience?"

  "You have passion in your soul," he says, "and a real sense of fight. That's good. It'll be useful when we're trying to get through your defenses."

  "I don't want you to get through my defenses," I reply. "I quite like my defenses. They're there for a reason, and I don't see any need to change things."

  "But what about that hole in your mind?"

  "What hole?" I ask, even though I'm pretty sure I know what he's talking about.