Blood, so much blood, I could smell it, and taste it. It was on my face.
I grimaced lightly, I didn't quite like the feeling of it so close to my mouth, but it traveled thickly down my neck, almost like a lotion.
My face was turned upwards towards the sky, and with my eyes closed, I relished in the sensation of being covered in blood.
The plane hit the tarmac, and my daydream dissolved.
I arrived in picturesque Maine by noon. My whole body was tingling with excitement, which was sad when you thought about it.
I was excited to get to the nuthouse.
I stood and stretched my taut muscles. The long wait for everyone to file out began. Images of my daydream flitted past my consciousness, playing in real time. The first occurrence unnerved me, but now, it was so normal, like breathing.
Some dreams were more vivid than others, but the imagery was always the same. Blood, me, and a weapon.
After everyone flooded the airport concourse, I made my way to baggage claim. All of my clothing filled 6 heavy suitcases. I dragged them onto a cart and wheeled it out to the pick-up area.
Hundreds of cars were lined up, waiting to received guests. I cranked my neck over the crowd to spot my driver. White Crest had mentioned sending someone for me. With my height, I was unable to see much, so I put all my weight behind the cart and pushed it through the hordes of people.
Some less than nice words were thrown my way for all the toes I wheeled over and ankles I nicked. Finally, a few feet ahead was a man holding up a white sign with the name Dr. Domingues-Gonzalez.
I waved at him, struggling to keep my cart steady. He pushed himself off of the black SUV he was leaning against, and hurried over to help me with the cart. With a smile on his face, he welcomed me to Maine, and introduced himself as Mitchel Taylor, Mitch for short. He was wearing a driver's uniform, with the White Crest emblem embroidered on the left breast pocket. I shook his hand as he took over the cart, pushing it towards the back of the SUV.
He loaded up my suitcases, then opened the car door for me.
I looked at the beautiful scenery as we headed to the hospital. The sight of maple trees calmed me down a bit. A place that was covered in maple trees couldn't possibly be that bad. Even if it was home to the most famous psychiatric hospital to date.
We went down a long winding dirt road as Mitch gave me a brief rundown of what life here was like. We'd long since left the city behind, and were shrouded with trees. It opened up revealing a pristine lake, whose waters glistened in the sunlight. A sign read, 'White Crest Lake'
I looked past it towards a large white building. My heart was starting to pound in my chest. Mitch glanced at me from the rearview mirror and assured me that everything would be alright. I offered him a smile, turning back to focus on the building as it grew closer and larger.
Windows covered the facade in perfectly aligned rows. With dark tinted glass, it was hard to see inside, but somehow that darkness wasn't brooding. Colorful lilies decorated the front and the walkway leading up to the door. We rounded a large, beautiful fountain and came to a stop. Mitch hurried to my side to let me off of the car.
I set my feet down on gravel, and took a quick look at my surroundings. Mitch drove away with my suitcases, as a woman dressed in a black skirt, a white blouse, and a white lab coat exited the building.
I admired her black high heels as she expertly walked down the stairs and met me at the landing.
"Good morning, Jordana! How are you? I'm Dr. Charley Lamb." she said, extending her hand out to me.
YOU ARE READING
The Psychiatrist: Trilogy to The Doll CollectorHorror
It's only been 6 months since the true identity of The Doll Collector has been revealed. It rocked the city of Los Angeles, and left Maria picking up the pieces of her life. But 6 months has been enough time for her to set the ultimate goal, be reun...