Page 16 of Lethal
Why did I let him fuck me?
Why didn’t I stop it?
Why did it feel like he knew me better than I know myself?
You didn’t want to stop him.That’s the truth you don’t want to acknowledge out loud.You enjoyed all of his depravity. You craved it like a drug addict about to be promised her next hit.
No. No, that’s not true.I went there to get answers. To find the truth about what is happening inside Wellard Asylum. To expose Halstead for the monster and liar that he is. I went for Cecelia. I needed to know what happened to her after I ignored her pleas, after I failed her so tragically.
Cecelia.
Her name cracks something in me, all the pieces of my soul shattering all at once. All of my regrets, my rage, and my obsession with the Norwood twins, are nothing in comparison to what Cecelia suffered alone. I cross the room in three long steps, and stare down at the file on the floor like it might lunge at me. Inside are pieces of her life, her last months alive, and her medical notes. Nothing but sterile records for something so violent, so very wrong, and inhumane. Mere words that could never reflect the vibrant person she was, before this world destroyed her. I can almost hear her calling to me from the folder, demanding that I not ignore her suffering, that I avenge her after I’ve failed her so miserably. Not just once,but twice.My sins are so deep that I will never find my way out of the cavern they lie in.
Bash said she was a mistake in their testing. He said Halstead used torturous methods until she couldn’t handle it anymore, and then he punished her for failing his tests. She must havescreamed in agony, in desperation, and yet no one came to save her. I never came to save her, despite her pleas. I believed Wellard could help her. I’m as complicit in her torture as they are. I reach down for the file and freeze, my fingers grasping its cover. I know if I open it now, I’ll never walk away from this, from any of it.
Not from the serial killer cannibal Norwood twins.
Not from the asylum, which is filled with rot, death, and malevolence.
Not from the thing Bash sees deep inside of me. All the darkness that taints me, just waiting for an opportunity to escape its tightly leashed captivity. That might scare me more than Halstead ever could. Am I ready to be a monster just like they are?
I sink down next to the file, knees to my chest, and try to breathe and calm my racing heart. Shudders wrack my body until every bone shakes painfully, in a reminder that I’m still alive and free, when Cecelia isn’t. The tears come next, soaking my shirt, and leaving tracks down my skin. There is no point even attempting to stop them. They won’t be able to wash away my sins anyway, nothing will, except perhaps all their deaths, and even then I don’t think it would be enough.
I don’t want to know anymore what she endured. I don’t want to go back there, but I know I will. I have to, if only to face my own demons, and dark desires, head-on. I’m no longer in control anymore. Something inside me is changing, is being corrupted, and like cancer, is spreading and infecting everything else.
Somewhere in the dark, they’re waiting. The killer clown twins, who make my heart race, not only with fear, but also with unrestrained lust. They know I’m not going to run, they know I can’t. Not really, not yet.
“You already belong to us,”Bash had whispered, and I think he’s right.
Iwake in the semi-darkness with my heart beating furiously against my chest, something triggering me awake. At first, I can’t seem to pry my heavy eyelids open. My lashes are stuck together, from all the desperate and ugly crying I had done last night, and the makeup I didn’t have the energy to wash off, after I consumed a bottle of wine alone. My mouth is drier than a desert and tastes like death. “Fuck!” My stomach rolls as I attempt to sit up, reminding me that it’s filled with only alcohol.
The dream, or more accurately, the nightmare that had me in its grasp, is still coiled around my chest like a thick, unyielding boa constrictor, squeezing me tightly, until I feel like my chest will burst. Bash’s voice is in my ear, and Wren’s disturbing laughter echoes in the walls. The hair on my nape, and on my arms, stands on end, and I have a sensation that something sinister and violent is in the room with me, getting ready to attack me.
Get your shit together. No one is here, you’re locked up in your apartment alone, and being as unhinged as your damn patients,I chastise myself, as I force my weary eyes to open and my back to press against my upholstered headboard. I inhale deeply through my nose, urging my body to calm down from the fight-or-flight response.One, two, in and out, again, deep breaths, Cat, you’re safe, no one is coming to hurt you.
My senses still run on overdrive, despite my attempts to reassure myself that I’m fine. The city is dead quiet and still at this early predawn hour. Nothing stirs but the racing of my heart, and the trepidation that fills all my limbs. My eyes catch a glimpse of something reflected in my bedroom window. The drapes I forgot to close last night, in my inebriated state, still parted, revealing the darkened sky beyond the planes of glass. A single cherry red balloon, propped against the inside of my window. No string attached, just hovering there like it had crawled out of a memory, and is waiting to devour me. All my blood instantly rushes in my ears, drowning out all the other sounds. A scream vacates my lips before I can stop it, as I jump off the bed and race toward the offending object. My stomach drops, as my trembling fingers touch its latex surface. “What the ever-loving fuck?!”
I didn’t open the window last night. I didn’t have to. Their message is clear, even from a distance, even while they’re incarcerated somewhere, they shouldn’t have access to theoutside world. They do, and they mean to scare me. To show me that I am never out of their reach, and any safety I think I have is nothing but an illusion.
The Carnevils know where you live now. They know how to get you. You will never be free again. You belong to them.
I decided to wear my white doctor’s coat today, the one I thought was overly pretentious, and a high-collared blouse, to hide the bruises left from my bra noose the night before. I’ve pulled my hair back in the strictest knot I can manage, and steel my resolve.Professional. Detached. Cold. Untouchable.
Pretend last night never happened, and you didn’t beg like a desperate slut. Pretend you didn’t feel it, all of it, the webs they wove around you. Pretend you never gave in and crawled for them, despite thinking that you never would. Pretend they didn’t send you a threatening message, outside of Wellard’s high-security walls, and that you’re still safe.
The door opens, and Wren enters first, followed by Bash. The atmosphere changes immediately, becoming charged with energy as their presence takes up space, forcing the very air to become thick and oppressive.Predatory. Malevolent. Dangerous.I compel my hands to remain still, even though I want nothing more than to dig my fingernails into my palms, to reassure myself that I’m fine, that I can do this.
Bash’s gaze meets mine, and pins me to my chair like I’m something already claimed. He thinks I belong to him, and Ineed to show him that I don’t, that I’m in control, not him.That is if I want to survive... but perhaps that’s not the goal anymore?
Wren looks smug, jittery, and volatile, like a child who wants to ruin something beautiful, just to hear it shatter. His gray-blue eyes wander around the room, bouncing off various items, scrutinizing them, before they fall on me like a ton of bricks, heavy and jagged, slicing me open in different directions, and forcing me to bleed out silently. His lips move silently, having conversations with the voices that only he can hear.You shouldn’t have come back, but here you are, Cat, once again hoping that the predators don’t consume you.
“Doctor,” Bash utters, his voice silk-wrapped steel. “You look…composed... perhaps a little tired, rough night?“ His voice is full of sarcastic humor, and I refuse to meet his glance. It irks me that I am being a coward even now, while the guards stand at the doorway, awaiting my nod to confine the madmen to their chairs. I clear my throat and nod to the guards, ignoring Bash’s taunt. They immediately force Bash and Wren to sit down in the uncomfortable metal chairs bolted to the floor, while they strap them tightly.See, they can’t do anything to you. You’re in control here.
“Let’s begin,” my voice sounds irritated and stern to my own ears, and it helps to settle some of my rampant anxiety. I watch, with a sense of doom filling my stomach, as the guards leave the room with a nod, and leave me alone with the twins.
“I didn’t get my turn,” Wren says suddenly, twitching like a live wire in the seat across from me.“Not fair. Not fair at all.”I take in his flushed appearance; he’s working himself up, and once he loses the meager amount of control he has, this will all be over for the day. I need to somehow extract the information I require from them. Forget trying to help them cope, or rehabilitating them, behind the thick skeleton-filled walls ofWellard Asylum. There’s no hope for these assholes. Yet, I can’t seem to stay away from them, even knowing that it’s a virtually unsalvageable task.
“You’ll behave,” I snap in Wren’s direction, more sharply than I intend.Breathe in, one, two, out, one, two.
