Alexandria

Chapter Seven

The patients milled about. Some played the boardgames place haphazardly around the room. Books were not allowed but most of the doctors and nurses looked the other way as Veronica pulled a volume out of her sweatshirt and began to flip through the pages. Red sat next to her with a few crayons and paper. Archie looked up from the patterns he had been studying on the floorboards as Dr. Quinn's voice rang through the air.

"Line up people! You know what to do. Line up!" She clapped her hands and the patients scrambled to comply. The nurses passed out the medication patient by patient as Rosenthal slipped into the room.

"Excuse me Dr. Quinn?" Dr. Rosenthal whispered to his colleague. Quinn turned to the towards the gruff man.

"Yes?"

"Can I borrow Archie, for his first therapy session?" He looked toward the man in question and smiled slightly.

Dr. Quinn smiled. "Of course."

She waved her hand in concession and Dr. Rosenthal marched toward Archie. He yanked him out of line and dragged him through the doors to the hallway.

Archie looked around, frightened. "Where are you taking me?"

"Exactly where I said: to therapy." Rosenthal wore a cruel smile and Archie shivered involuntarily. Archie glanced around him, and a deep fear settled in his chest.

"This isn't the way you take the others." Archie muttered. He looked anywhere but at the man beside him. He didn't know what was going to happen to him, but he knew with great certainty that it would involve harm- bodily or otherwise. Rosenthal must have found out about their plan to escape and reduce this institution to rubble. Archie sent out a quick prayer for Red and Veronica. He was sure that if they had been found out, those two would have it much worse than he. Archie finally looked at the doctor's face. He wore a sadistic smile and Archie shuddered internally. This was going to be very bad.

"The other patients don't have the same... afflictions as you do." Rosenthal finally said. "You're a special case. I'm not even sure how fit you are for interaction with the other doctors and patients." He looked up at the dusty pock-marked ceiling and smiled widely, all of his teeth on display. "Yes, that shall do nicely. Necessary solitary confinement."

"It's you." Archie whispered, coming to the conclusion that this had to be the man behind everything. It had to be him. He had the most to gain from this: power, wealth, control.

"Hmm?" Rosenthal hummed.

"It's you. You're the one who is putting us in here! It's you!" Archie became animated. He flapped his arms around frantically.

"No, no, no, my boy." Rosenthal chuckled. "I'm not the mastermind behind this. I just merely agree that those who know too much are a hindrance to society. And in return for my loyalty and silence about this whole charade I am allowed to do my research." A sadistic smile graced the doctor's face as he spoke.

"Research?" Archie sobered up. Maybe he could get some information out of the man and if he didn't die, he could help the others.

Rosenthal looked off into the darkness of the expansive hallway in front of him. He seemed to be considering something. "I probably should not be divulging my theories, but... who are you going to tell? The cement walls, the floating dust?" The doctor chuckled darkly at his own joke, giddy with sadistic excitement. "I dream of a world where curious minds have been weaned out. Where the common population works as if it was a machine, with select geniuses at the top. I've been trying different methods of both medication and physical stimulus to try to "turn off" the curious area of the brain. Sadly, the outcomes have created minds that are not able to function at all. You've seen some of my experiments. Probably made friends with them. You can tell they aren't normal. Now you, my boy, will be my next experiment. I plan to keep you locked away from human contact, save for myself to monitor you. No light. No fresh air. I wonder if fear would speed the process along. Maybe if I threatened him with gas...?" The doctor mused to himself as Archie's shoulders slumped in defeat. He doubted there was any means of escape. This prison was going to be his grave.