A Feast Of Souls: A Dark Paranormal Romance

Chapter 29: The Mechanism of Madness

Her decline into madness and despair, it seems, has been quick – too quick – and I cannot help but wonder whether I have been at fault here in some way. How could I not have seen what was happening? What important signs did I miss? How could I be her friend and yet not see what was right in front of my eyes?

Whatever has befallen Lizzie, I am finding it difficult to understand just why she would murder Mama. It is true that Mama was always a touch disapproving of Lizzie, but there was no malice, no ill-will, in fact, despite her disapproval of Lizzie's ways and opinions, she always seemed quite fond of her. This whole turn of events seems ludicrous, and yet, here we are, staring up at a building which houses lunatics and one of those very lunatics is my own best friend.

Daniel assists me down from the trap and tethers it, stroking the horse's muzzle with a warmth that I would find endearing if it was not for the fact, I am terrified of walking into this building. He must sense my disquiet, for he catches hold of my hand and threads his fingers through mine, squeezing them gently.

'Don't, I say, when he opens his mouth to speak. He raises a brow in question. 'You were about to tell me that I do not have to go inside, that we can get back into the trap and leave, but I cannot. I will not.'

'Actually, I was going to tell you that stepping foot inside this place might be the bravest thing you've ever done, and I've seen you tackle the undead and Percival Baker.'

I cannot help but afford him a small smile. 'Truth be told, I think I would rather face the walking corpses of both Mr. Hawkstone and Mrs. Smallman than have to face Lizzie. But I need to hear it from her mouth. I need to know why.'

Daniel pulls me to him and presses a kiss to my forehead. 'Then let us hear it.'

At the door, we are greeted by a rather gruff-looking man, who eyes Lizzie's letter with some suspicion until he spies the stamp of the head doctor at the bottom of the page.

'Wait here, please,' he says, when I tell him our names and closes the door on us, leaving us standing inside the porch. Anxious minutes pass and just when I think the man has no intention of returning, I hear sharp footsteps from within and the door opens again.

A different face greets us this time, a thin gentleman who looks to be closer to Papa's age, only with far less hair. Small half-moon spectacles sit on the end of his long nose, barely concealing shrewd grey eyes that show little warmth, despite the smile on his lips.

'Miss Elmes? Mr. Carver? Welcome to Shelton,' he says gripping Daniel's hand, quickly dropping it, to take mine and inclining his head respectfully. 'My name is Doctor Richard Oliver; I am the medical director of this facility.'

'Good day, sir,' I respond. Daniel is stunned silent and stares a little too long at his hand, I think, surprised for anyone to greet him in such a way. Of course, this is Bicton and not Church Stretton, and we are far enough away for folk not to know of his profession.

'I understand you wish to visit with Miss Darby,' the Doctor asks.

'Yes.' I nod. 'Elizabeth is my friend, and I just learned this morning of her incarceration here.'

The Doctor's cool eyes narrow. 'She has also confessed to your mother's murder. I should imagine that is the reason for your visit and you are not here just to enquire after her well-being?'

When I raise my chin to respond, the Doctor waves a hand to quiet me.

'It is no matter, Miss Elmes. I read and signed the letter myself; I am quite aware of who you are and why you are here. Of course, in usual cases I would be concerned to allow such a visit as it would undoubtedly cause the patient some distress, however Miss Darby has been informed of your presence and it seems the situation is quite the contrary.'