When Dorothy finally regained her composure, she straightened herself and continued her trek to the exits of the asylum. She wouldn't let this man take her life next. However, she was still terrified along with determined to survive. She discarded those slippers, walking through grime and gore without caring about how her dainty feet got dirty as she peeked in the rooms of the corridor. But only the ones that didn't have the sounds of someone pacing inside and banging their heads against the wall. In one of the bedrooms, or more like cells, there was an energy bar lying just so tantalizingly on the table. Its red wrapper glinted under the dim light, the food seemed to call out to her empty stomach like a siren's song.
Dorothy ripped the wrapper off and devoured it in just a few bites, perfect white teeth crunching through the honeyed oats. The sweet taste lingered on her tongue as she tossed the wrapper in a nearby trash bin and thought back to the man's words: "I didn't kill them. But the ones who did are also people you know." What did he mean 'also'? She didn't know him as a person, such as his personality and whatnot, but rather the sole fact he killed her parents. That's the only time she's seen him other than today, she's sure. She was also certain she didn't know anyone who would break into an asylum just to kill the patients.
The phone buzzed in her breast pocket again. Hesitantly, the redhead took it out and read the text. This time, there was a contact name she didn't remember entering. 'Sue.' He'd typed: Don't be afraid to snoop. Look at the journal.
Dorothy obeyed as soon as she caught sight of what appeared to be a book lying open on the table. However, he was right, it was indeed a journal where someone had inputted their thoughts on certain events. The woman felt more and more confused with each word. It couldn't have been written by a patient, unless they were very delusional. But... Why did she feel as if they were talking about what happened at her manor?
'Dropping like flies, they are. That brat still refuses to change her mind. The Seven Deadly Sins get angrier each day. I want to be mad at her like everyone else, but I know it's not her fault. It's her parent's fault for making a deal with a devil in the first place, and I don't think they told her how much danger we're all in for this.'
-B
Dorothy still didn't see herself as a brat, but she couldn't help thinking about what that psycho had said when he burst in her room. Why write B at the bottom? Did this man's name start with B? She remembered what...'Sue' had said about her memories. He really had the power to change and erase them? Now that she thought on it, one of her servant's names did start with B and that organisation her parents fretted over in their diaries was called the Seven Deadly Sins. Was Sue leaving these for her to help her remember? What did she refuse to change her mind about? What did her parents have to give up in exchange for their wealth?
"None of this makes sense." Dorothy mumbled, nibbling on her thumb in thought. "If it was money, my parents could easily just pay them back. But it had to be something really valuable if it was worth running away and risking death for." Another vibration against her ribcage made her open another text.
Sue: Check everywhere. Leave no stone unturned.
Dorothy observed the room. Quickly and quietly, she stepped over to the bed and looked under it. Nothing. She opened drawers to the dresser, wondering what else she possibly needed to find. In the bottom drawer was a rose, a beautiful red rose in full bloom. She picked it up and analyzed it like it was an experiment, utterly confused. However, it looked absolutely gorgeous, and it was her favorite flower, so she slid it behind her ear. She wished she had a mirror to admire herself with.
Sue: You haven't changed one bit, I see.
Dorothy had a hunch this was meant to be insulting, but she brushed it off. Even though she was unsure what significance the rose bore to Sue, she appreciated its beauty. How could I ever turn down a lovely red rose? Dorothy thought as she opened the wardrobe doors.
"SINFUL BRAT!" The man inside thundered as he burst out, loosely swinging what appeared only as a quick blur at her face. A flash of rusty silver, bloody and jagged at the edges. It missed her button nose by mere centimeters.
The woman screamed as she staggered back across the room, tripping up over her feet. She landed once again on her derriere, eyes aching as they nearly popped out their sockets, flitting up and down the assailant's body. He was of medium build, dressed like a patient, in the usual white attire of a simple long sleeved shirt and pants. However, it was stained darker than the rose. His skin was sickly pale, unnaturally so, his bald dome was stained with sweat, and his eyes were gaping holes of deep red. In his hands, was a whirring buzzsaw, screeching mechanically.
Dorothy couldn't believe what she was seeing, how was this man still alive? The flesh inside his sockets looked freshly injured, like someone had scraped around inside there only a few minutes ago, blood dried on his cheeks. He had not been medically tended to, yet he was still fully alive with enough energy and motivation to try and slaughter her. He snarled, teeth bared at her like a rabid dog, huffing fast and heavy breaths through his yellowed teeth.
"UNGRATEFUL WHORE!" The patient howled, taking fast but very wobbly steps forward and raising the buzzsaw again. Dorothy rolled, and it struck, the man's back bent over, where her collarbone would've been. She patted her breast pocket real quick to ensure the phone was still inside as she took off out the room. Out in the man's ward hallway, she ran to the end and made a sharp right turn through a door. It was a random decision, and she knew that without eyes he probably wouldn't follow her long. So, she paused and tried to steady her wildly pumping heart.
The patient crashed through the same door after her, hollow sockets glaring straight at her. She covered her mouth and quietly moved to the side, against the wall. He'd just keep following the sound of her unless she did something drastic and just killed him, and she'd rather not do that. She made sure her feet made no squeak against the tiles, that her panting was ceased, and everything.
"MAD AT YOU! MAD AT YOU!" The patient yelled like a three year old throwing a tantrum, heading straight for her. Before she could react, the buzzing blade sliced across her shoulder. She cried out in agony as blood streamed down her arm, the bone almost grazed.
Dorothy's instincts drove her away, choosing flight over fight, as she fled into the consulting room. She sobbed, the pain fogging her senses as she stumbled blindly around and almost hit a table with a tea set, and all she seemed to smell was the coppery fluid gushing out of her. She spotted one of the beds used for patients to relax on and quickly slipped under it. Keeping silent in her condition was the hardest thing she'd ever done, and even then she couldn't accomplish it. With gritted teeth she let out uncontrollable whimpers. When she noticed the trail of blood leading to her hiding spot, horror struck like a lightning bolt.
But the man never came inside, she couldn't even hear him anywhere outside the door. He was just gone when she was expecting the worse, and that made her weep even more with pure relief. But she could not stay like this, she needed to stop the blood, or she'd die.
Dorothy's bare feet slid a little over her own fresh blood as she rushed to the door, then warily peeked out with an orange eye deep as the setting sun. Her face was ashen, and tears collected on her eyelashes like dew drops caught on pine needles. Everything lay in silence, no murderous patient to be found. She ran to her left and threw open the door to the medical room, clutching her wound. The blood seeped through her fingers as she found a first aid kit. She was far from an expert on this, and she hoped she was doing the right thing by wrapping a lot of gauze and bandages tightly around her shoulder. Even though it hurt, she made sure they pressed hard against the wound, the white getting soaked with red.
Dorothy chewed off her fingernails as she sat atop a gurney and tried to stop herself from shaking any more. She just wanted to get her wits about her again, not to continue onwards in such a state. She'd have to shake off the trauma until she escaped, then she'd let herself dwell on it and allow the events to take their toll on her mind. After all, it was inevitable, only her paranoia and adrenaline could ward this off until then, when she'd probably actually go crazy this time. She squeaked like a frightened mouse as another message made itself known.
Sue: You may not recognize that patient, and that patient doesn't recognize you. But that isn't a patient, is it?
Dorothy was fed up with the confusion and fear, tired of the mind games and insanity. She raised her thumbs over the keyboard and began to furiously type back. 'That makes no sense.' But when she tapped 'send,' the words only disappeared from the little box. Didn't send at all. Of course that man was a patient, who else could he be?
Sue: I'm still waiting for you, Dorothy. You're getting closer and closer to the truth.
Dorothy gripped the phone with unnecessary strength, shutting her eyes for a moment and letting the hatred simmer in her like a pot of poison broth. She put the device back into its place and left, leaving that corridor and heading for the elevator.
She sighed upon seeing it, the doors wouldn't even close all the way and one of the buttons had popped off, hanging by a few wires. She decided to descend the stairwell instead, ensuring her footfalls were slow and quiet. Listening for any signs of upcoming danger. She wouldn't be caught off guard again, not if she could prevent it. The darkness enveloped her, more dim light waiting at the bottom, yet unwelcoming.
A/N: I hadn't updated in such a long while, I'm sorry. Please enjoy this chapter and vote and comment if you liked it. Comments motivate me to write more than usual. So, if you want to hurry and know what the hell's up with Dorothy in this asylum, then give your feedback~.