Breaking Chains

The quiet ones.

Mr. Thorne sat hunched over with his chin resting on the tips of his fingers and his elbows on his knees. He was thinking, had been for the past few days; Indigo’s childish outburst had inflicted Roger’s wrath on the both of them. Not only had he been upset with Indigo but he hadn’t taken kindly to Mr. Thorne free roaming either and had banished him to his cell. He could still get out; the nurses liked him more than they liked Roger, but his “punishment” wasn’t nearly that of poor, little Samantha.

Roger had broken out the leather bed straps and tied her down to the bed in her old room. She ate meals through a tube and had diaper changes every two days. He started her on similar treatments to those of Celia; only Samantha’s tub was filled with ice and vinegar to burn into her wounds and she couldn’t resist the pain like Celia could. On a good day, when the asylum was quiet and he cared enough to listen, Mr. Thorne could faintly hear her screams. But mostly he just thought and waited and thought.

It could work. Granted, it would take some effort and a lot of learning but it could work. There was potential for it, Mr. Thorne had seen it that day.

“Don’t even think about it,” Sarah cut in.

“I haven’t the faintest clue what you’re talking about,” Mr. Thorne feigned.

“Don’t play innocent with me, it’s ill suiting for you. I know how you’re mind works, Mr. Thorne. I’m in your mind.”

“If you don’t play nice, I’ll kick you out.”

“You couldn’t do that if you wanted too,” she scoffed.

“I thought you weren’t talking to me.”

“My silence doesn't affect you anymore than my shouting did when you told that man Celia was dead.”

“That was an unfortunate sacrifice.” But a necessity. “He didn’t get very far.”

“Samantha got far; she killed him.” Yes, quite a messy job of it too. There was no finesse to her work, too much anger and violence, it would be a point to work on. It wasn’t fully her fault; her weapon was blunt and could do no more than bludgeoning. Ah yes, that reminded him; he had to Indigo a new cane.

“You can’t possibly be serious about making her your replacement.”

“Jealous?” he challenged.

“Concerned,” she corrected, “this is a stretch even for you.”

“Concerned? I’m touched, but you’re once again underestimating my powers of persuasion.”

“Even if you somehow could convince her to apprentice under you, you’d still have to manage the fact that not only is she disfigured--your own fault--but verbally scarred and crippled. I’d think those are qualities that put her rather low on the recruiting list.”

“And I was no more than a trapped child in a prison until I learned to kill and set myself free just as Ms. Crick is learning. I adapted to survive and so can she.”

“This is something not even you can achieve.”

“The only thing in my life I was not able to master was you and that is only because I never had a chance.” Sarah looked skeptical but Mr. Thorne chose to ignore it. “A challenge is nothing more than a great achievement in disguise.”

“No disguise can mask the very distinct lack of walking ability,” Sarah pointed out. True, the wheelchair was a particularly major handicap but it did come with its advantages. Wheelchairs were good for concealing weapons and the disabled were always underestimated--an invaluable advantage. Of course, it would have been better to pretend to be wheelchair chained rather than actually crippled.