A.N. OKAYY SO THIS IS REALLY LATE AND I APOLOGIZING BUT I MADE UP FOR IT. NOT WITH A DOUBLE UPDATE EXACTLY, BUT THIS CHAPTER IS ABOUT TWICE AS LONG AS USUAL, BY FAR MY LONGEST CHAPTER EVER. SO I HOPE THAT MAKES UP FOR A BIT OF THE LOST TIME FROM NOT UPDATING ON TIME :D THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR YOUR SUPPORT AND KINDNESS, ITS LITERALLY ONE OF THE FEW THINGS THAT KEEPS ME WRITING SO THANK YOU ILYSM. PLEASE CONTACT/FOLLOW ME ON TWITTER @/watermelonat :DD AND ALSO PLEASE VOTE/COMMENT ON THIS CHAPTER BECAUSE I RLLY LOVE READING THE COMMENTS :)) THANKS AND AGAIN ILY
CHAPTER 45
I could only see black. In the narrow supply closet there were no lights. Just darkness. It hung in the air with an eerie stillness, engulfing me like a thick blanket on a hot summer night. I desperately wanted to rip the covers off and get a breath of fresh air that was not my own, to step out of the stuffy room and search for Harry. But I couldn't, because I had no idea where he might be. It was better to wait for him here and to trust him than to get myself caught and ruin this whole thing.
So I stood and waited. It seemed like hours had passed since I grabbed the gun from the unconscious guard's hip and rushed into this damned room. Since that moment I have been in the very back corner, behind the mops and brooms and trash bags while I waited in the suffocating dark.
I was not sure if Harry was okay, but only that I had heard the guards come and drag him past the door. I was not sure where he was now. I was not sure who had him or how he was going to come back to me. I was not sure how I felt about him killing another man, no matter who, just a little while ago.
But I was sure that I trusted him. If he promised that we would escape, I had hope that he was right. Because I have never met someone with so much passion, so much intelligence, and so much determination as he had.
I still worried, though, and doubt still clawed its way through my optimism. Each small sound made me jump, adding to the jittery nervousness I already felt. My hands were clammy and I felt nauseous. No matter how hard I tried to believe in my hope, I was a wreck. Every small squeak was an impending death, and every step heard was a glance at a punishment-filled consequence that made my heart leap out of my chest. If someone checked this room at any point it was back to my cell after some horrid penalty by Ms. Hellman. And we would be stuck here. Lori and Kelsey would lose their jobs. It would be an utter catastrophe.
Images of Harry under a lashing whip or him shaking under harsh electric currents played through my mind over and over, along with questions like, is he okay? Is he safe? Who is he with? What are they doing to him? How will he make it back here? And what if he doesn't?
I wished so desperately for him to come through that door so we could get the hell out of here and so my racing mind could be put to ease. I waited and waited for what felt like an eternity, but nothing changed. The closet was still filled with nothing but the anxiety of my erratic breath.
But, finally, what was probably hours but felt like days later, I heard the doorknob twist. I held my breath, praying to God that it was Harry.
The door opened. Only for a brief moment, though, just enough for who was hopefully him to step inside.
I was about to say him name, to sigh in relief. He was here. He was safe.
But I caught myself just a second before it happened. Because this person, their frame outlined for only a fraction of a second by the dim red lights, was not Harry. My stomach dropped. All I could make out was that the person had a larger frame, a bigger, more burly one. And there was no sign of disheveled curls atop his head.
I held my breath and cowered back into the wall, clutching the gun I had taken close to my chest. The nameless man stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Oh, no. Oh, shit.
My heart beat so wildly in the quiet space I was sure he could hear it. It was another patient, I knew that much. Someone who had run here to escape from the guards, just like I had. I had no idea which ward they were from, and I had no idea how dangerous they were.
The darkness returned as the door clicked shut behind them. But this time, I was not alone in the closet.
He hadn't noticed me, yet. All that was going through my mind were a bunch of curse words that usually only Harry would use, in panic and worry and fear. There was nothing I could think to do but keep my mouth shut and hope for him to leave. I heard him breathe heavily, as if he had been running. I was grateful for it because it overpowered any noise he might hear of mine. And if he did happen to hear or feel or look around and find that there was another girl in here, maybe he wouldn't hurt me. Maybe he just wanted to escape, was hiding for a few minutes, and would leave.
But soon he grew quiet, this anonymous person only about five feet away from me. His breathing slowed. My heart was slamming against my chest and I was trying not to panic, doing my best to restrain the noise of my heavy breathing. I hoped to God that I was doing a good enough job to go unnoticed.
But suddenly I felt him move. Not psychically, but there was something in the air. A shift in the tense static, a flicker of motion in the darkness. I held my breath.
It was something small, something I couldn't hear. Something like a turn of the head or a raise of a hand. My body started to shake in nervous jitters while I closed my eyes, holding my breath.
In the drop dead silence I heard skin move on cloth. Definitely a turn of his head. And I could tell by the shift in the air, it was turned to face me. He knew I was here.
He spoke in a thick, hoarse whisper that dragged chills along my spine. "I can hear you breathing."
HARRY'S POV
My eyes fluttered open every so often. But it was a blur when they did. I fought to wake up, something important trying to squeeze its way into my clouded mind. Then they would close shut as I slipped back into unconsciousness. I drifted between a reality of a strange, small, office-like room to dreams of Rose and laughter and sunny beaches. When I was dreaming, she adorned a white bathing suit, one of those new bikini things. Her long dark waves cascaded down her back and she was running along the powdery sand, shrieking and laughing as I chased her. It felt free, just the two of us, kicking up droplets of water as we went. And then I came back to the red-walled room and uncomfortable chair, hands behind my back.
Then things got blurry again, and I was licking an ice cream cone, holding hands with her while we walked under the impending night of the grey sky above.
Then back to reality. In and out of consciousness I went, my mind fighting against the drugs that tried to pull me under. I would much rather stay in my dreams, but I had to remind myself that Rose wasn't actually in my unconscious mind. She was out here, outside of this room somewhere counting on me to come find her. So I fought the dreariness and the sedatives began to slowly wear off. Things were still not quite clear and my head felt heavy, but I was awake.
The walls started to clear up. They were painted a reddish maroon color. I picked up my head and squinted through the haziness, making out an old desk in front of me with a whip laid on its surface. A few more tables and chairs had been scattered back along the wall. One table was next to where I sat, a small battery-powered lamp set upon it. It gave a very interrogation room-like feel. The chair a sat in was all by itself in the middle of the floor. I tried to get up, but I couldn't. My hands were restrained behind me, around the chair's uncomfortable metal. It didn't feel like the cutting material of the usual cuffs that held my hands, though. The texture was more rough, more itchy, but flexible. Rope.
Where the hell was I?
I was alone in the room. I didn't know who brought me here or why, or what they were going to do to me. But I did know that no matter what, I was getting out of these damn ropes and finding Rose. She was probably so fucking scared, by herself in the dark closet. If anything happened it would be all my fault for not being there.
But she dispersed from my mind when I heard the click of the doorknob. I just couldn't fucking contain my excitement when Ms. Hellman herself waltzed through the door, that smug, cocky smirk on her lips.
"Trying to escape now, were we Harry?" She asked as she shut the door behind her. "You and Rose thought you could just run away?"
I didn't respond. I didn't know what the hell she was trying to do, but I wasn't giving into it.
"Well, its going to take a lot more than some old guard uniform and a power-outage for you to leave this place."
I still sat with a blank face, suppressing an amused smile. Little did she know it was the uniform of her dead son. I wanted to throw that in her smug, wrinkled face. But I bit my tongue to stop myself. Divulging that information might hurt me more than it would help.
"It seems as if one of you is missing, though. I can't imagine that you would leave her behind. So tell me, Harry. Where's Rose?"
"Go fuck yourself."
She chuckled at my response, shaking her head. And then she strolled closer to me, taking her sweet old time. Resting a hand on the arm of my chair, she was just a few feet away as she leaned in. And then her hand lashed across my cheek. Hard.
The action caught me off guard, stunning me. Did she just slap me?
Like mother like son.
"Tell me where she is," she demanded, as if nothing had happened, as if my cheek wasn't bright red and stinging. And it pissed me off, along with her arrogant presence. So I spit in her face.
She drew back instantly, wiping a hand across her disgusted expression. While she wasn't looking for a moment I pressed against the rope, my wrists straining under the tight knot. I gritted my teeth and my arms grew taut with the effort of trying to break free, pulling my wrists apart with all of the strength I could muster up. Nothing.
We both stared at each other with all of our hatred both pissed at the actions of the other. "I'll have you know, Harry," she started, spewing her words out like venom. "That we will find her eventually. I have all of the guards hunting through every inch of this building looking for patients. And if you help me out and tell me where I can find her, it will make things a whole lot easier. I'll take the both of you back to your cells without punishment." She paused for a moment, letting me take in the possibility.
"But if you don't . . . there will be very severe consequences. Especially for her."
"I'm not telling you one fucking thing. Even if I wanted to, I have no idea where she is."
"Bullshit," she said. "How about this, if you don't tell me, I'll move her up to Ward C. You'll never see her again." Behind her words was a sick, sadistic smile.
Normally I would get angry. I would try to rip free of the rope and clench my jaw and shout threats and obscenities. But I was too confused, too weary from the drug's effects that still lingered. Plus, yelling wouldn't change a thing. That would only give her the satisfaction of provoking me.
So instead I tried another tactic. I looked around me at the useless room, at the rope behind my back, and at Ms. Hellman and her presence. I noticed that outside the doors it was quiet. We were somewhere apart from most of the ward. "Nobody knows we're here, do they?"
"What?" she asked, confused and irritated.
"The other guards, the employees. You sent them all out looking for patients that you know are locked in their cells so that you could torture me and interrogate me without anybody else knowing."
"That's nonsense," she said, excusing my theory. But her smug grin had disappeared. "This is my institution, I can do what I please with it and its patients."
"No you can't. You think you can use us all as pawns in this twisted game of yours, that you can get away with things like this. But you know that if any of the employes found out what kind of sick shit was going on at Wickendale, you would lose your job. So you have me back here, away from everyone else in secret. You're going to torture me far away from the ward so that you can still be the boss without any complaints of mistreatment. So maybe it will work, maybe you'll be able to do what you want and nobody will find us. But you're not going to move Rose anywhere, we both know that. Sure, you can punish us all you want. But don't give me that bullshit on how you're going to take Rose to another ward, because in a few weeks or months time, people are going to start to notice that she doesn't belong there."
Ms. Hellman chuckled from deep within her chest. "Harry, I think you're forgetting that there's other options."
"Like what?" I demanded. "Like lobotomies? Like brain surgeries? Ms. Hellman, I think you're forgetting that Jane disappeared last week. If you kill one of us next, how do you think the press will react to perfectly healthy patients dropping like flies at Wickendale?"
Ms. Hellman swallowed, her hard eyes not leaving mine. She knew I was right. She couldn't do shit to us now that all of the employees knew our names and our faces. She might've been able to get away with dragging Rose into that surgery room in a few months time, but not now. Not when Jane had just disappeared, not when there was all of this commotion. And besides, the worst she could do had already been done. From solitary confinement to whippings to electroshock therapy. So I had nothing to loose.
And if there was something she could do to hurt either of us, people would notice, and Ms. Hellman knew it. But, "we'll see," was all she said in response, remaining her composure. "Don't underestimate me, Harry."
This time it was my turn to laugh.
"If you'll excuse me, I have to go make sure the guards are doing their jobs," she said.
More like go make sure no employees don't come looking for her and find that she had me tied up here.
But before she left the room she grabbed a strip of cloth from the desk, walking around so that she was behind me. "What the fuck are you doing?" I asked. She didn't speak. Before I knew it, a piece of cloth was wrapped around my head and tied in the back so that I couldn't speak or call for help. What a fucking psycho.
"I'll be back," she threatened, before she left the room. Ms. Hellman had reached a whole new level of evil. Who the hell did she think she was? Nobody, not even a warden, had the right to tie their patients up and stuff their mouths to silence them. This wasn't just her hating me anymore, this was some kind of disgusting form of revenge for what I had done to her son. She was a malicious woman with malicious plans. I had no idea what those plans were, though, and I had no desire to find out.
I looked around frantically for something, anything to get me out of this damned chair. I pulled and pulled at the rope, ripping it with as much force as I could manage. I tried to pry it apart, feeling the ache in my chest and feeling the growing hoarseness of my throat. It strained my whole body as I held my breath and gritted my teeth, willing it to rip apart. The fabric dug into my skin until I could feel it break at the surface, a small amount of blood oozing from my left wrist.
It hadn't even budged. I tried scraping it along the wood of the chair, up and down to loosen it. Still nothing. Fuck.
There had to be a way, though, there always was. There had to be something.
The lighter.
Yes, the fucking lighter. I had slipped it into my pocket before we left Kelsey's office. I felt the heaviness of the metal against my hip, and sighed at the relief that it was still there. Finally some luck.
I shifted so that my fingers grazed the fabric of my uniform to retrieve it.
My arms were twisted at a painful angle and so was my hip as I willed them to meet at my side. The rope was cutting into me and it fucking hurt, but I kept Rose's image in my mind and used it to push myself further.
My hands were almost inside my pocket, and I gritted my teeth at the pain and the effort. Just a little more.
I was certain I couldn't move another inch but somehow I managed it, the pain gone due to the loss of feeling in my hand. Finally, I felt the cold metal against my fingertips. I tilted my hip upward and the lighter slid into my hand.
I sat back with a sigh, wincing at the rushing blood flowing back into my hand like a thousand prickling needles. I waisted no time and performed the mundane task of flicking on the lighter for a purpose not so mundane, and bent my hand upward so that the flame licked at the rope. And I hoped to God that it would burn away before something happened to Rose.
ROSE'S POV
My whole body went numb. The fear was paralyzing, my body filling with dread like heavy cement. My heartbeat pulsed in my ears as I shrank back into the corner. The whispered words played again and again through my mind. "I can hear you breathing."
He moved with a stalking slowness, hardly making a noise to disrupt the quiet. My breath hitched in my throat. I had been afraid many times but never like this, never with the danger so close, never stunned into silence and unable to move. And the worst of it was that there was nothing I could do. If I ran, Harry wouldn't be able to find me. If I called for help, the guards would hear it. If I fought back, I would hardly have a chance.
Harry would've been able to fight his way out, but I did not have his strength. So I stood there with tear drops rolling down my cheeks like a coward. Yes, I did clutch a gun in my hands, but I had high doubts that I would be able to bring myself to use it.
"Who is it?" The male asked. His voice sounded gruff and menacing even in those simple words. It was familiar.
A rough hand touched my shoulder and I winced.
"Answer me."
The harsh command in his voice made me do just that.
"Rose," I whispered weakly. There was no point in being silent, no matter who I was the man had already made up his mind. I could tell by the confidence behind his voice. Whatever he was planning to do, my name wouldn't change anything.
He chuckled deeply, a rumbling laugh I've heard before. Somebody else I knew had that laugh. And just then, his identity finally dawned on me. "Hello, Rosie."
Norman. Of course, it had to be Norman.
"Here all by yourself?" he taunted. "Where's Harry at, Rosie? Where's your little knight in shining armor?"
I swallowed. He stepped closer and I could smell his rotten breath. "Told you I would get you alone, away from him."
I could feel him now, not on my own skin, but close enough that I grew warm with the heat from his body. "Finally I've got you where I want you," he said, the desire of months and months spent lusting after me filling his words. The want laced within them made me cringe.
"Finally I can do what I want without being interrupted." His cold fingertips touched my neck and I jumped. I swatted his hand away, but that only egged him on further. His hand moved downward and grazed my collarbone.
"Norman, get away from me," I demanded in a voice that was probably much less confident than I had intended. He only laughed, finding humor in my fear.
And I decided that I was sick and tired of him doing that, I was through with having him and everyone else toy with me. Ms. Hellman, James, and now Norman all thought they could do whatever they wanted to weak little Rose, using me as their puppet. I cleared my throat, with the goal of escaping and a newfound strength clear in my mind as I spoke again. "Norman, get the hell off of me or I'll shoot you."
"What?" He asked, amusement still clear in his voice. His hand continued to the top of my chest, folding back the top of my uniform. I shoved him away with one hand, the other holding the heavy metal of the gun.
"I'm not fucking around Norman. I'll pull the trigger right now."
"Woah-ho," he chuckled mockingly. "I don't think you'd do that to me, would you baby? We're just starting to have fun."
His hands continued to grope me and the tears rolled faster down my face. "Norman I swear to God!" I yelled, straining under his powerful presence. I pushed and shoved at his chest but he wouldn't budge. I really didn't want to pull the trigger, but as his large hand moved to my breast and the other one moving down my stomach I didn't think I could stand it much longer. "Norman, I'll fucking do it!" I warned, squeezing my eyes shut. My finger curled around the trigger. All he yelled in response what "Shut up!"
I didn't want to kill him, I really didn't have it in me to kill him, but he wouldn't stop touching and feeling me and squeezing me roughly and he wouldn't budge when I tried to push him away. I owed it to Harry to find him and escape. And a trivial obstacle such as Norman wasn't about to get in the way of that.
I was not a killer, and murdering him was not something I could bring myself to do. But I needed to get out of here. So I winced back and closed my eyes, aimed lower than what would kill him, and finally pulled the trigger.
The fore pushed me backward into the wall and the shot rang through my ears along with a mix of hoarse screams. The man before me dropped backwards onto the ground, shouting what might have been "Fuck, my knee!"
But I couldn't tell for sure with the ringing piercing through my ears. Pumped with adrenaline, scared, and surprised that I had managed to actually shoot someone, I picked up the bags and ran out of the door. The colder air felt amazing against my hot skin. The guards would be coming any minute after hearing a gun go off, though, so I didn't have time to stop and enjoy it. Nor did I have a spare moment to linger on the thought of what I had just done.
Instead, with only two bags and a blaring ring in my ears, I bolted away from the man I had just put a bullet through.
HARRY'S POV
I had the pleasure of feeling the absence of Ms. Hellman for about ten whole minutes. In those ten minutes, the strands of the rope burned and shriveled away, until nothing but a gaping whole was in place of what had connected my two hands. I felt the strain on my wrists disappear when it finally tore apart along with a gust of relief. With a grin that I couldn't suppress lingering on my lips, I stood victoriously from my chair. It only took a little blood and a lot of patience, but I was finally free of the ropes.
I was about to remove the cloth from around my mouth as well but stopped myself. I had to check the door first. Once I got up and twisted the knob I realized what I had dreaded. It was locked.
Suddenly, from somewhere far off, I heard a gunshot. A thunderous, echoing crack in the silence of the halls. My eyes grew wide and my lips parted in worry and in dread. That couldn't be . . .
Before I could finish the horrid thought, there was that same twist of the doorknob but from the other side of the door. She was back. I ran to my seat and put my hands behind my back again, like a second grader who wasn't supposed to leave his desk.
She re-entered and shut the door behind her, setting the keys on the table. She smirked at her false-belief that she was successful in keeping me tied up. "Now Harry," she started. "Where were we?"
She turned to me and I stared back into those cold, soulless eyes for what I hoped would be the last time. I couldn't respond, we both knew that, but she had asked just to make a fool out of me for her own pleasure.
"Ah, yes. You were telling me about how there was nothing I could do to you and your little girlfriend for punishment. But I don't know what made you so sure. In fact, we've just found her, and she's already being punished."
The gunshot.
My heart leapt against my chest. "You're lying," I said through the muffling fabric.
"No, I'm not," Ms. Hellman shook her head, smiling in satisfaction. What a fucking bitch. "We have her a just few rooms down."
"No," I repeated. She walked closer in that condescending sly way she did, like a lion stalking its prey.
"Yes, Harry. Because you wouldn't tell me what I wanted to know, they're doing to her what I promised you would happen."
There was something there behind her words that I couldn't pinpoint, something off about her usual confidence. She was lying, she had to be.
I had to find Rose, and I had to do it right fucking now to make sure that she was okay. I would not leave her without her. If what Ms. Hellman said was true, it had to be now. Right now.
So I jumped from my chair. In one quick, swift motion I kicked it backward behind me. The surprised, scared look of Ms. Hellman's expression was priceless, but I didn't have much time to stop and enjoy it.
I would've made a run for it but she would follow me, try to stop me, or call the guards to hunt me down if I didn't do something. Quick, be quick.
I drew my hand back and clenched it into a fist. And then, just like with her son hours earlier, landed it right along her jaw. I was not proud of it, punching an old lady like that, but this wasn't some sweet granny we were talking about. Inside, she was something evil from the pits of hell. And finding Rose was the only thing on my mind at the moment, I didn't have time for manners.
I ran up to the door and flung it open, stepping out into Wickendale's dark halls without looking back. I don't know how Lori had managed to hold off anyone from turning the power back on, but she was doing a damn good job at it, an ominous red glow the only thing illuminating the building.
The gunshot had come from just down there, a few halls in front of me and to the left. I looked both ways and then ran sprinting with all of the speed I could muster. Before I could even hear Ms. Hellman's reaction. Passed an oblivious guard, passed the entryways of dozens of doors, and through the creeping darkness of the quiet halls. I pushed on the ground with great force and bolted around corners. It was like in my nightmare. The air rushing through my hair, my speed picking up and up until I felt as if I were traveling at the speed of light. But this time it wasn't an adrenaline-filled excitement that brewed inside of me. It was a nauseating anticipation, a worried and scared rush of energy that pushed me faster and faster.
This whole escape had already tested my limits, but this was moment right here went above and beyond. My limits of pain had been tested against the ropes, and my limits of speed were tested in the quickness of my rushing feet. But greater than that, the limits of my fear were challenged. I had never felt such a heart-pounding, heavy-breathing, sickening fear. And that fear had not yet reached its limits.
The surroundings were getting familiar but that only intensified the surge of panic. Here, this spot was where the guard had seen us.
Faster.
Here was were I had been knocked out by the sedative, all of its effects long gone now. I heard the noise of guards not-so-purposefully rushing to the scene of the gunshot behind me, but I trudged on even faster still.
And then I was there. The room, the closet I had told Rose to hide in. It was right in front of me like I had left it. Except the door was open with no sign of her. In her place was Norman, clutching his bloodied knee. Out of all things, that was the furthest from what I was expecting.
"Norman," I demanded, my throat soar and deep. "Where the fuck is Rose? What happened?"
"The bitch shot me in the knee, that's what happened!" he screamed out of pain and anger. Rose shot Norman?
That's my girl.
I would praise her later, but actually finding her came first. "Where did she go?" I asked.
"How the hell should I know?"
"Which fucking way did she go Norman?!" I yelled, my patience and time running thin.
"Shit," he winced in pain, still clutching the oozing spot. "That way." His voice was strained and hardly audible, but I could see his hand clearly. It pointed in front of him, to the left. My right. I stared down the hall filled with thick black silence. And then I realized Norman wouldn't have divulged information so easily after just being shot. Not with all the anger he had within him toward Rose and I. And I wasn't about to fall into his trap.
So I took off again, going in the opposite way of where he had pointed. And if there was a God in heaven, I prayed to him that I was heading the right way.