AHC2 Vampire Asylum Page 6

  "You ask too many questions," the woman says.

  "You give too many opinions," I snap back at her.

  "Charming," she says quietly.

  "Felix," I continue, "can you talk to me? I need to know what the hell's going on here. I need to start working out how to -" I pause for a moment as I realize that escape might not be as easy as I'd hoped. The walls of this place are made of stone, and no matter how hard I try, I can't make the bars bend at all. Whoever built this place, they clearly designed it to house vampires, which means I'm probably not going to be able to just break out using brute force.

  "Felix?" I say, desperately hoping that he might start to speak again. "Please, Felix. Can you just talk to me?"

  Silence.

  Realizing that I'm not getting anywhere, I take a step back from the door. I hate the thought of just waiting around until someone comes to get me, but right now, that might be my best approach. If I continue to try breaking my way out, I'll just end up wasting energy. I don't care how well-built this place is, there's no way I'm going to allow myself to get stuck here. Sooner or later, the people who run Tor Cliff are going to have to let me out of this cell, and that's when I'll make my move. There's no prison or asylum that can hold me.

  Hearing a dull metal clanging sound in the distance, I stand completely still. Moments later, I realize that footsteps are coming this way.

  "Okay!" a female voice calls out. "It's time to get some exercise. That means all of you!"

  Suddenly the door to my cell slides open, and I come face to face with a nurse.

  "You too, Ms. Hart," she says with a faint smile. "Everyone has to go out into the yard and enjoy some socialization."

  "Sure," I reply, figuring that I should cooperate for now. After all, once I'm outside, I might be able to work out a better escape route.

  Dr. Cole

  "Look at them," I say, standing on the balcony and watching as the patients loiter in the yard. "They're like ghosts. I brought them here to cure them, to fix their heads, and how do they repay me? By getting worse. I swear, it's as if some of them actively want to remain here forever."

  "I'm sure they would be a thousand times worse off without your intervention," Nurse Fletcher says, standing a little way behind me. "Each and every one of them has surely benefited from your kindness."

  "And yet they do not show it," I mutter bitterly, watching as one particular patient - a difficult young boy named Nicholas - slopes mindlessly past the outer fence. "I had such high hopes for some of them," I continue. "Fortunately, I am a strong and confident man and I am not prone to moments of doubt or weakness. I know that my methods are sound, even if they're taking a lot longer than I'd hoped."

  "Of course," Nurse Fletcher says obediently.

  "Every single one of these miscreants will be cured one day," I add. "I swear to God, they will all bend to my kindness eventually, and then they'll drop to their knees. All they need is the clarity of sanity and -"

  Pausing, I watch as Abigail Hart emerges into the yard. This is her first time outside since she arrived last night, and I'm curious to see how she'll react. To be honest, I was expecting that she might be obstinate and refuse to come out; instead, she appears to be accepting her surroundings. I'm quite certain that she's merely putting on a facade, and that she's secretly working on some plan to get out of here. For now, though, we seem to be already locked into a battle of wits. It will take some time to break her, but I shall succeed in the end.

  "Would you like her brought to your office after the exercise period?" Nurse Fletcher asks.

  "No," I reply. "I would rather observe her for a while. There'll be plenty of time to talk later, but for now -" I pause as Abigail looks straight up at me; even from this height, I can see that she has spotted me, and she stares at me with barely-diguised loathing. Every new patient tries to be strong and tries to stand up to my authority, but they're usually full of nothing but bluster and hot air. Abigail Hart, on the other hand, is quite clearly going to present a considerable challenge.

  "She has a strong will," Nurse Fletcher says.

  "The stronger they are," I reply, "the more violently they shatter when the correct force is eventually applied."

  "You aim to destroy her?"

  "I aim to dismantle her mind and put it back together again," I continue. "With a few pieces left over, naturally. She'll fight against this, but I'm confident that I can beat her into submission. I've already begun to reset the equipment. If she has even a tenth of the resilience that her father possessed, she will be an extremely difficult patient."

  "But one you will conquer, I'm sure," Nurse Fletcher replies. "If anyone can break Abigail Hart, it must surely be you. The other could never even attempt such a task."

  "Quite right," I reply with a faint smile, watching as Abigail continues her journey around the yard. She seems to be checking for weak spots, perhaps trying to work out when and where to make a break for freedom. I'm sure she's too smart to try anything immediately; she'll most likely wait and bide her time, hoping to lull us all into a false sense of security.

  "Madeleine LeCompte has arrived," Nurse Fletcher says, sounding a little tense.

  Sure enough, when I look over at the door down below, I see that Madeleine has emerged into the yard, and her gaze has immediately focused upon Abigail. Although there are a couple of dozen other patients in the yard, Abigail and Madeleine seem to stand out thanks to the sheer force of their personalities. Abigail is still checking the perimeter, of course, so she seems not to have noticed that Madeleine is keeping pace with her a little way behind, tracking her every move intently.

  "You must watch those two," I say, turning to Nurse Fletcher. "There's potential for trouble. If it comes down to it, lock Madeleine away or send her down to the beast. I'd rather damage her than risk any interference to my work with Abigail. In fact, that goes for all the patients. No-one is to be allowed to disturb Abigail Hart, is that understood?"

  "Of course."

  "Use force if necessary. Lethal force, even. This entire facility is now geared around the new arrival, and all the other patients are supplementary -"

  "But -"

  "All of them!" I say firmly. "Don't question me on this. Abigail Hart is worth a hundred, even a thousand of those wretches." I watch as Abigail reaches the main gate. She stares out at the rolling fields beyond, before turning and starting to walk back the way she came; she passes Madeleine, but seems lost in her own thoughts. Madeleine turns and watches as Abigail walks away, and it's clear that a problem is already developing. Still, it might be an interesting problem if it allows Abigail to demonstrate her ingenuity.

  "Should I call them in for food?" Nurse Fletcher asks.

  "Has there been any communication from below?" I reply.

  "Unfortunately not."

  I turn to her. "That's two days in a row," I point out. "What's he up to down there?"

  "Perhaps he merely wishes to rest?"

  "Or he's plotting something." I pause for a moment, trying to work out why the beast might have fallen silent. "Is there any way in which he might have become aware of Abigail Hart's presence?"

  "None that I can think of, Sir."

  "Make sure he remains ignorant," I tell her. "I don't want him trying to hijack the situation. She's my patient, I found her, and I'm going to work on her. If and when I decide I'm finished with whatever's left of her mind and body, I'll be sure to send the carcass down the chute, but until then, I don't want him to -"

  "It's okay," she says calmly, interrupting me. "I can assure you, there's no need to become agitated. The beast has no way of knowing about Abigail. All the nurses know not to speak carelessly."

  Glancing back down into the yard, I see that Abigail has stopped by the door, as if she's waiting to come back inside. Perhaps she has decided that the yard offers no route out of Tor Cliff, or perhaps she thinks she has already identified an escape route; either way, I'm certain she must be working on some kind of plan, and I
have no intention of letting her get too far. Still, it would be good to break her spirits at an early point.

  "She'll try to escape tonight," I say after a moment. "I don't know how, but she'll try. We must have someone at every exit. Maximum security."

  "Of course."

  "Feel free to use force," I continue. "Ensure that no-one is able to get out, but..." I pause for a moment, trying to work out the best way to give Abigail hope and then crush her entirely. "Leave the pit doors unlocked," I add finally. "The internal ones, anyway. Allow her to find her way down there. She can't cause any damage, and she might just get the fright of her life. And when you bring the patients in for food, escort Madeleine LeCompte to my office. Tell her I've reconsidered, and that I've decided I need her help."

  "Very good, Sir," Nurse Fletcher replies. "Anything else?"

  "Not for now," I reply, keeping my eyes firmly fixed on Abigail. "Tonight, however, I think we shall be rather busy."

  Abby Hart

  "So you must be Felix, huh?"

  Setting my tray of food down opposite him, I take a seat.

  "Wh... Wh..."

  "Relax," I reply, a little pained by his look of absolute fear. "I guessed from the fact that you're sitting all alone in the corner here." Glancing across the room, I see that some of the other patients are giving me dirty looks for daring to sit with the werewolf. "Is it always like this?" I ask, turning back to Felix. "Do they treat you like scum all day, every day?"

  He stares at me, as if he thinks this is some kind of practical joke. I swear to God, it's as if he might leap up and run away at any moment. Looking down at his hands, I see that he's trembling.

  "Relax," I continue, "I'm on your side. Well, I'm definitely not on their side, so I guess that means I'm sort of on your side. My enemy's enemy, and all that." I wait for a reply. "I happen to like werewolves," I continue, lowering my voice. "I haven't met too many of them, but the ones I have met, I think are pretty cool. So I'm not gonna start laying into your or anything. You want my opinion? If there are fleas in this place, they're more likely to have come from one of those snooty bitches."

  "I, um..." He pauses, as if he's genuinely terrified and unable to get any more words out.

  He's got a young face, making him look as if he's in his late twenties or early thirties, although the fact that he's a werewolf means he could be several hundred years old. There's something overwhelmingly nervous about him, though, and although he's kind of attractive, I actually feel as if I want to hold his hand and tell him that everything's going to be okay.

  "It's okay," I say after a moment. "I'm not like the others. I don't think werewolves are scum. They just hate you 'cause you're different. What's a werewolf doing in a vampire asylum, anyway?"

  "I'm..." He pauses. "I'm part vampire."

  I raise an eyebrow.

  "I am!" he says earnestly. "I know I'm a little crazy, but this part is true! My father was a vampire and so was my mother, but my mother's mother was a vampire, so..." He pauses again. "I guess a quarter of me is vampire, and that's enough to have got me in this place. Anyway, Dr. Cole isn't too picky."

  "I didn't even know the two species could mix," I tell him, scooping up some mashed potato and taking a bite. It tastes, predictably, like garbage.

  "They're not supposed to," he replies, "but it's possible. Unfortunately, as you can see, the end result is..." He pauses, as if he's suddenly lost the will to speak. "The end result is not impressive," he mutters, before scooping some potato into his mouth.

  "So who put you in here?" I ask.

  "Oh..." He pauses yet again, as if every answer requires a degree of courage and mental dexterity. "Well, I was thrown out by my pack, and so I figured I'd try to embrace my vampire side, but that didn't really work, and I guess I became conflicted. And then one day, the nurses came and found me. I didn't really resist. I mean, I wasn't having much fun out there. I guess someone like me belongs in a place like this. At least I'm safe."

  "You want to be in an asylum?" I ask.

  "Don't you?" He glances over at the other patients. "Don't they?"

  I shake my head.

  He turns back to face me. "Oh," he says finally, as if it had never occurred to him that anyone would resent being in such a place. "I suppose that's why they always seem so angry." He pauses. "Sometimes I have dreams. I think I want to get out of here, and I think I want to rip Dr. Cole apart, but that's just because I have schizophrenic tendencies."

  "Or you're remembering how you used to be before you got zapped to within an inch of your life," I reply. "Maybe you weren't always like this."

  "Oh, I think most likely I probably was."

  I stare at him for a moment. "Sometimes tells me," I say eventually, "that you're not the person to ask about ways out of this place."

  "You get out by getting better," he says quickly.

  "That sounds like a mantra."

  "It's what Dr. Cole says," he replies. "The only way out is to get better and be released. Even if you could escape, which you can't, but if you could, you'd never be able to escape from your own mind, and that's the real prison. You should listen to him. He talks a lot of sense."

  "You know what you need?" I reply. "A heart. Courage. That's all." Pausing for a moment, I realize the insanity of this situation. "There's not a tin man and a scarecrow knocking around this place, by any chance?" I quickly tap my feet together. "Damn," I mutter, "I figured it was worth a try."

  "Besides," he continues, with a mouth full of potato, "even if you wanted to get out, and even if you managed, you wouldn't get far. The whole place is surrounded by a forest, and the forest... Well, you know. The things out there aren't exactly friendly. Even Dr. Cole's afraid of them. He says he's not, but I can see it in his eyes. Sometimes, I feel as if he's trapped here as much as the rest of us. Only the nurses can pass through the forest unchallenged."

  "And what's in the forest?" I reply. "Bogeymen? A wicked witch?"

  "Dronigan," he replies.

  "Huh?"

  "Dronigan."

  I wait for him to elaborate. "What?"

  "Dronigan lives in the forest around Tor Cliff," he continues. "He's out there, always watching, always waiting. If anyone ventures beyond the perimeter of the asylum, Dronigan catches them. He's everywhere at once, and he moves like mist between the trees. They say he draws out your worst fears and turns them on you, until finally you end up killing yourself."

  "Sounds like a giant metaphor," I reply, finishing the last of my food. "Fairytales being used to keep everyone from even trying to escape..."

  "You want my advice?" he says. "Just stick it out. Dr. Cole's a good guy and he'll see you right. Sooner or later, you'll feel so much better, and you'll end up thanking him."

  "Sure," I mutter, getting to my feet. "Thanks for the chat. Out of interest, how long have you been here?"

  "A couple of centuries," he replies.

  "And how's your treatment going?"

  "So-so."

  "Good luck with that," I reply, before carrying my tray over to the counter. As I turn and head out of the canteen, I can't help but notice that there's a black-haired girl watching me from the corner. She thinks I haven't noticed her, but I have; she was following me in the yard, and it's pretty damn clear that she's taken a disliking to me. I've only been here for about twelve hours, and it seems I've already made an enemy. Fortunately, I plan to be out of here way before anyone can make a move on me.

  In fact, I've already got my escape plan worked out. All I need to do is wait until nightfall.

  Dr. Cole

  "A deal?" Madeleine says, standing across from the desk. "Are you serious?"

  "I can understand that this must have come out of nowhere," I reply, taking care to remain calm and persuasive, "but I feel that you and I can help one another. I've reconsidered my earlier approach to you, Madeleine, and it's quite clear that I misjudged you. You're both more intelligent and more resourceful than I believed."

  "Told y
ou so," she says with a smile. "All my life, people have underestimated me. They took one look at my brother and assumed that he must be the bright spot in the family, but they never realized that I'm the one who offers the best bang for your buck. Pardon the expression, obviously."

  "You'll have to forgive me," I continue, deciding to offer a few more platitudes before I move on to more important matters, "but I've simply never come across a patient with your qualities. It was only the arrival of Abigail Hart that made me realize I'd been ignoring the brilliance that was right under my nose all along." I pause for a moment, allowing my words to sink in. "I think it's time for you to prove yourself," I add, "and I have the perfect opportunity."

  "What's in it for me?" she asks.

  "Freedom."

  "You're never going to let me go."

  "On the contrary," I continue, "I most certainly am going to let you go. Tonight, in fact. Granted, it will be a somewhat unusual exit, but the most important thing, from your point of view, is that you'll walk out of Tor Cliff and never return. There'll be no more ties to bind you to this place, no more chains holding you down. Proper freedom, Madeleine. You'll be the first."

  She stares at me.

  "You doubt my word?" I ask eventually.

  "I wanna know the catch," she replies with a frown.

  "Must there always be a catch?"

  "Uh-huh," she replies with a nod.

  "Have you always been so cynical?" I ask.

  "I have Daddy issues," she mutters. "And Mommy issues. And definitely brother issues. Just... issues. I've got so many issues, I might as well be a goddamn magazine."

  "You've been here for a long time," I continue, "and perhaps I haven't always chosen the most appropriate care path for your needs. I failed to understand that you're unique, Madeleine. Of course, I say that about all my patients, but it's usually just lip-service. In this case, I think you really are unique. All the damage in your soul, all the scars you carry with you... They're not things to be scrubbed away. They're a part of you, and you seem able to handle them with aplomb."