Page 43 of Heart of a Killer

It’sthe song they have sung every day since they got here two months ago. The one I’ve been trying to figure out because the tune sounded familiar to me. But the words weren’t anything I could remember. Seeing it written out now, I know it’s not a song but a fucked-up nursery rhyme.

My body stiffens when I look back at Sam’s still form. Their intestines are wrapped in their hand, and a blood-coated pair of scissors is beside them. My pulse quickens, and my eyes burn. Pushing my way out of the crowd, I race to my room and slam the door behind me. I lean against it and cry. I’m unsure how long I sit there on the floor before finally dragging my weary body to bed.

As I lie there, waiting for time to pass, my eyelids droop from the heavy weight of exhaustion finally hitting me. They burn from trying to stay awake every night and fighting the lingering effects of the medication given to me by Dr. Benjamin the night before. Darkness greets me like a long-lost enemy.

* * *

My eyes spring open,and my limbs are frozen. My heart pounds in my ears, and I hear the blaring alarm again. A wave of electricity courses through my body, and I want to scream, but no words come out. I can’t move.

There’s a darkness edging close. I can see the smoke in my peripherals. I want to cry out for help, but I’m paralyzed. A figure leans over me with a flash of white teeth. The bolt of current racks my body again, and a gurgling noise comes from my throat.

The shadow continues to stand there, and I close my eyes. My pulse throbs behind my eyes, and I urge my fingers to move.

The shadow is gone when my lids shoot open, and I can move again. Sitting up in my bed, I pull my legs to my chest, and my shoulders rock. The moisture tracking down my face wets my pants. I stay like that until my breathing finally slows down.

“I need Skylar,” I whimper in the empty room.

My heart has slowed, and my arms and legs begin to feel stiff. I finally get out of bed and head for Skylar’s room.

My limbs crack as I move them, trying to warm them up and prepare for my breakout. Approaching the door, I peek out to ensure the coast is clear. The tiles burn my toes with their chill as I tiptoe along the walls. I forgo socks in case I have to run—I don’t want to slip and crack my skull open. I slow down my pace as I get closer to Skylar’s room, and my head tilts to the side.

I’m confused as to why her door is wide open, the light inside streaming into the hall.

I hear muffled cries the closer I get, and my breath hitches in my throat. I pick up my pace before I realize what I’ve done.

Skylar is in her bed with her back bowed. The doctor is standing at the foot of it, and the staff nurses have tied her down. There’s a tube sticking out of her mouth, down her throat, as they pour brown liquid in. Her thrashing stops, and her eyes close.

At least she’s not in pain anymore.

There’s liquid running down my face before I realize I am crying.

“What are you doing out of bed, Brieanna?” The doctor is staring at me, frowning.

“I-I—” I stammer as I wipe the tears from my face.

He stalks up to me, a sinister grin increasing the divots around his mouth. “The darkness is creeping in again, isn’t it, Brie? That’s why you’re out of bed at this time of night?”

“No,” I whine. My chest rises and falls in rapid succession.

He grabs my arms. “I have just the cure for you.”

Squeaks echo in the halls as my feet stumble and drag. Dr. Benjamin doesn’t let up on his course until we are back in my room. He throws me to the bed. I look back at him through my curtain of hair as he pulls a syringe from his pocket.

“This...” The look in his eyes darkens. “This will do the trick.”

I drag my body away from him, gripping the sheet on the bed, before a sharp pain flares in my ass cheek. I whimper as tiny needles claw up my spine. My limbs grow numb and heavy as the paralysis consumes me yet again.

The doctor flips me over onto my back so that I’m facing him, and he brushes the strands from my face, gently.

“You know I hate doing this to you, but it seems to work after a few treatments.”

My body is dead weight, and my head drags as he lifts me to the top of the bed. He pulls out the leather straps hidden under the mattress and secures my wrists. A guttural cry leaves my throat.

“I know, I know, Brieanna. The only way to make the shadow disappear is to embrace it. Recreating your first encounter with it is the only way to make that work. You understand, right? I don’t do this to hurt you.”

His brows pinch and lift in the middle. It’s as if he actually means what he’s saying. My chest tightens at the sincerity in his eyes—and at knowing what will come next. He pulls my scrub pants down before the slowpopof his zipper rings loud in my ears.

“This will be over quickly, Brie. I hate this just as much as you do.”

---