Page 16 of Wicked Games

Silence.

Rage had replaced fear. Marching over to the area with the bed, I started throwing the sheets and thin blanket off it, searching for my own clothes or cell phone. After finding nothing, I flipped the frame on its side, not caring about the terrible clatter the metal made against the cold concrete floor. Lowering to my knees, I swept the floor with my hands, hoping to find something under the bed. There was nothing.

I returned to banging on the door and screaming till I was hoarse.

Finally, it opened… and my real nightmare began.

“Take your hands off me!”

“Lady Larkin, please compose yourself.”

“Stop calling me that! Let me go, you assholes!”

“Vulgar language like that will only get you a longer session, my lady.”

Two stout women had me by the arms and were dragging me down a long, dark corridor. The only relief from the gloom was an occasional sconce with a flickering candle casting soft weak light.

Where was I?

Why didn’t this place have electricity?

Following us was the scolding homeless woman who first answered the door, calling herself Mrs. Higgs, and a man dressed in a rather dated-looking suit who identified himself as Doctor Swede.

Finally, we entered a much brighter room. Stationed around the room on alternating tables were several gas lamps. The room was covered in white and emerald green tile, from the floor to the walls. In the center of the room was a large wooden chair with evil-looking leather restraints attached to the arms, legs, and back. Along the far wall was a long table, its surface covered in rough-looking metal buckets.

“Undress her,” ordered Doctor Swede.

“No! No! Stop!” I shrieked as I renewed my struggles to free myself.

All at once I realized this was not some prank.

This was real.

I was in very real danger.

The fabric of my nightgown tore as both women began to claw at me.

“Stop! You can’t do this! Help! Help!” I screamed as I tried to fight them off.

In seconds I was standing stark naked in the middle of the tiled room. Desperately, I tried to cover myself but once more the two women grabbed my arms and started to pull me backward. As I was forced to sit in the rough wooden chair, Mrs. Higgs wrapped a heavy leather belt across my shoulders and began to fasten it.

“No!”

I swung my arm out, connecting with one of the women’s noses. Blood gushed from her nostrils.

“Harlot!” she yelled before slapping me across the face.

My head snapped to the side as pain burst across my cheek. Through pain-blurred eyes, I watched as Doctor Swede struck the woman on the head with some sort of truncheon.

“She is the ward of His Grace the Duke of Winterbourne. A lady, and one of your betters, no matter her mental state. Never strike her again or you will find yourself cast out onto the streets,” he raged.

“I’m sorry, Doctor,” whined the woman as she wiped the blood from her nose onto her sleeve.

Ignoring my kicks and punches, they restrained me onto the chair. I have never known such fear and helplessness in all my life. Strapped naked to a chair with a bunch of lunatics.

I started to cry. “Please don’t kill me. Please.”

Doctor Swede approached me. I flinched as he raised his hand, thinking he meant to strike me with the same heavy truncheon. “Lady Larkin, we have no wish to harm you. This is all done for your own moral good. You are in a highly excitable state. This therapy is based on science and will help calm your mind. Our own Queen Victoria has approved of its use for the mentally deranged such as yourself.”

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