Page 12 of Devoured
“Everything.”
She rolled her eyes hearing my reply, like she heard it every day from patients. Maybe she did.
The exam continued. Samples drawn with needles that felt too large. Weight recorded: 194 pounds on my 5’2“ frame—down from 212 before arrest. I’d barely eaten in County. Couldn’t stomach the food when everything was falling apart.
She handed me pale blue scrubs that hung wrong on my frame. Too tight across the hips and chest. Too long in the legs. I knelt and rolled the hems.
The door opened again. Dr. Alan entered, carrying a tablet and a small paper cup. She’d removed the lab coat—her blue dress looked expensive, out of place.
“How are we doing?”she asked, her tone rehearsed.
“I don’t know,”I answered honestly.
She nodded. “Understandable. This is a lot to process. The transition from county to treatment can be jarring.”
She swiped through her tablet. “Depression. PTSD. Dissociative episodes.”Her gaze met mine. “The court found you not responsible due to mental illness exacerbated by long-term abuse.”
I said nothing.
“I’d like to start you on medication,”she continued. “Sertraline for depression. Trazodone for sleep. They’ll help with the… adjustment.”
She handed me the cup—two pills, one white, one blue.
“These will help,”she said softly. “Take them.”
I dry-swallowed both. They stuck in my throat. Dr. Alan smiled, satisfied.
The door slammed open, hitting the wall with a bang. A massive man walked towards us. Everything about him was oversized—barrel chest straining his uniform, thick neck blending into his shoulders, hands like sledgehammers at his sides. A scar ran from his left eye to his mouth, pulling his face into a permanent sneer. His eyes were too close together—small, intense, predatory.
“Tobias,”Dr. Alan said coolly. “Ms. Quinn needs escorting to Room N-17 in the North Wing.”
Tobias’s gaze swept over me, lingering where the scrubs pulled tight. His tongue flicked out, wetting his lips.
“Fresh meat for North, huh?”he sneered, his voice surprisingly high for such a massive man. “What’s a thick little thing like you in for? Suffocate your husband between those thighs?”
Heat flooded my face. “I—”
“That’s enough,”Dr. Alan snapped, though she didn’t sound particularly upset. Then she turned to me. “I’ll check on you tomorrow. Try to rest. The first night is always the hardest.”
Tobias grabbed my upper arm, his fingers digging deep into the flesh—hard enough to leave bruises. “Let’s go, princess. Time for the tour.”
He dragged me from the intake room—not walking so much as hauling. We passed back through the double doors into the older part of the building. The temperature dropped again. The walls changed—no longer painted concrete, but old stone darkened by moisture and time.
“See, this place used to be something else,”Tobias said conversationally, like we were old friends. “Before it was an asylum for cuckoo people like you, it used to be a monastery. Others say a prison. Me? I think it was always meant for keeping things that shouldn’t be let out.”
We descended a narrow staircase, the steps worn smooth from centuries of feet. The lights grew dimmer, spaced farther apart.
“North Wing,”Tobias announced as we reached a heavy door plastered with warning signs. “Home of the special cases.”
He swiped his keycard and shoved the door open. The corridor beyond was narrower, older. Our footsteps echoed as we walked.
Halfway down the hall, he shoved me against the wall, his massive frame pinning me in place. His face loomed close, breath hot with cigarettes and something sour—old food, maybe, or just rot that lived inside him.
“You know what happens to new girls here?”he whispered, one hand sliding into my hair, fingers tangling in the wet strands. “Even ones built like you can make special friends. Friends who make things easier... or harder.”
I turned my face away, heart hammering against my ribs. His other hand planted on the wall beside my head, caging me in.
“The pretty ones, they learn quick. The smart ones, quicker. But the ones like you?”He laughed—low, cruel. “The ones who think they’re tough because they killed someone? You learn the hardest lessons.”
