Chapter 26 The Phoenix

Chapter twenty-six

The Phoenix

Screams woke me from the best sleep of my life the next morning.

Even though they had startled me awake, I wasn’t worried about what they were over.

The sun hadn’t quite risen enough to allow much natural light into the room.

With all the lights on in the hallway instead of just the fire lights they left on at night, it wasn’t needed.

I yawned, stretching my legs and relishing in the feeling of how well my muscles felt after last night.

Exhaustion had hit me so hard when I got back to my room, it was all I could do to manage to crawl under the covers before passing out.

I could still feel his dried cum on my thighs, reminding me of how good his thick cock felt inside me.

Slowly, I got out of bed, not wanting to appear unfazed by the events happening out in the hallway.

If only there were a manual on how to act when a group of people finds the pedophile your therapist just killed and not seem suspicious.

With Brandon hopefully in hell, I didn’t worry about pulling a sweatshirt over my nightgown as I went into the hallway with everyone else on our wing.

I pulled a mask of confusion onto my face as I found Kendi hovering outside her door and looking back where multiple nurses were gathering outside Brandon's room.

“What’s going on?” I asked, taking a spot next to her against the wall. Everyone else seemed to be doing the same, waiting outside their doors, eyes glued to the scene in front of them, but unwilling to move any closer to gather any answers.

“I don’t know, Cindy had just finished a head check on me, and a few minutes later I heard her scream.” She folded her arms tightly around herself against the chill in the hall.

“You don’t think he hurt her, do you?” I hoped she found the fake concern in my voice to be believable.

“I don’t know, she hasn’t come out yet. I don’t hear him screaming or yelling profanities either.

That sicko is rarely ever quiet, so it could be anything going on.

” She seemed genuinely worried for Cindy.

We tightened together against the wall as a few security guards breezed past us, not stopping until they reached Brandon's room.

Time ticked by slowly, Kendi’s anxiety washed over me as we waited in the hall like statues.

No one had found it in them to move from their doorways, and no nurse had come to collect us for our routine.

Muffled voices drifted down the silent hall from Brandon's tomb, inaudible in what they were saying.

After what seemed like an hour, a petite redhead nurse with bloodshot eyes finally emerged from the mass of bodies surrounding Brandon's room. Cindy still had fresh tear tracks running down her pale face and looked like she was on the verge of passing out. Her skin wasn’t just pale anymore; a ghastly white pallid complexion had taken over her features.

“What’s going on?” Thelma asked as Cindy passed by her door, but the nurse didn’t stop. It didn’t even look like she had heard her patient as she wrapped her arms around herself, hurrying down the hall and away from the room that housed a dead body..

I almost felt bad for Cindy having to be the one to find him in that state.

She was a decent person and had always been kind to everyone, from what I had witnessed.

Unfortunately, her suffering from finding the scene was necessary for the greater good.

She’d seek counseling, maybe take up an unhealthy habit for a little while to try and purge the image from her mind, and at the end of the day, ultimately she would be fine.

The illness Brandon claimed to have suffered from would never have healed, only infected more victims.

Kendi leaned up against me, her bare arms pebbled with gooseflesh against mine. Everyone was transfixed on the open doorway and the commotion beyond it, unable to move from our spots where we watched the scene unfold.

After a few more minutes that seemed to be agonizing for my fellow patients, two men in matching black outfits with bold letters stating “Coroner's Office” came through the metal doors leading out into the visitors’ area, rolling a gurney between them.

I had never seen them before, but that wasn’t surprising.

I’m sure they didn’t store dead bodies in the same building as the mentally insane patients.

They both wore hard expressions on their face despite the age difference between them and didn’t say a word to any of us as they passed.

“You don’t think?” Kendi started as they disappeared with the gurney around Brandon's doorway, completely swallowed by the sea of people flooding the space inside the room.

“Maybe,” I answered her unfinished question, “why else would a coroner and not a doctor come?”

I knew my answer was the truth, Kendi didn’t, confirmation only coming when the two men started wheeling the now-occupied gurney back out of the room. The body was covered with a thin white sheet, two leather straps crossing his chest and his legs, buckled and holding him in place.

I expected to feel nothing as they rolled his body by, after what he had done, he wasn’t deserving of any sympathy in my eyes.

What I hadn’t expected to feel at the sight of a dead body was arousal.

Heat flooded my cheeks as the sight of his corpse being wheeled down the hall made me remember what Daxton had done to me against the bathroom mirror while Brandon's body was still warm.

Men like Daxton shouldn’t have existed; too good to be true in this society.

They were creatures that prowled the depths of dreams, figments of our imagination, while men like Craig dominated real life.

I could feel my thighs clenching against my will as I remembered how he fit between them, and how much I had wanted him to stay there.

Brandon was a disease upon the innocent that Daxton had found a cure for, and it was the biggest turn-on I had ever experienced.

“What do you think happened to him?” Kendi asked, still unmoving from her spot next to her door. Seeing the body taken out of the hall seemed to have all the patients mesmerized in some state of shock.

“Your guess is as good as mine is,” I said simply. I couldn’t share this with her like I could the spicy details of what happened between me and Daxton; it wasn’t just my secret to keep.

Thelma broke the stillness that had settled on everyone lingering in the hall as she walked over to us, her bright blue robe pulled tightly around her, covering her pajamas.

Her hair stuck up in a random pattern since she hadn’t had time to tame her short, gray locks before the commotion took place.

“Come on, girls,” she muttered, “go get dressed, and we’ll wait for someone in the lounge.

” She motioned for both of us to go to our rooms, giving us the direction she thought we both must have needed in the moment.

I couldn’t help but think I didn’t need to get dressed at that moment; I needed Daxton.

I didn’t argue with her, letting her motherly nature try to handle the situation the best she could, and did as she asked as Kendi went back into her room.

The quiet that had invaded the halls was almost unbearable.

Usually, the sound of the nurses talking and using the machines to check every patient's vitals filled the hallway first thing in the morning.

Today, a morose atmosphere seemed to take over, every square inch of our temporary home afflicted by the somber mood.

I didn’t let it bother me as I got dressed, pulling a pair of black lace underwear and a black sweater dress.

Rain was in the forecast today, so I slipped on my black flats again, not needing to worry about therapy outside.

I was curious how his death would impact our schedule for the day.

He hadn’t participated in the group consistently due to his outbursts and horrible demeanor, but it didn’t mean it wouldn’t have an impact on our schedule.

As quickly as I could, I ran a brush through my hair, not worrying about doing anything with it today, and brushed my teeth.

Kendi and Thelma were both already waiting for me in the lounge.

Andrew and Tyson hadn’t arrived yet, though I wasn’t completely sure Thelma had asked them to, like she had the two of us.

“Are you okay, Raelynn?” She asked as I took a seat on the couch next to Kendi, sandwiching her in the middle between myself and the older woman. Both looked presentable, no longer in their sleepwear, but like me, had put minimal effort into their outward appearance today.

“I’m honestly not sure,” which was the truth. There had to be something fundamentally wrong with me, given the events of the past few hours.

“Have either of you heard what happened?” Asked Kendi, wringing her hands in her lap, her anxiety still high as a kite. Reaching over, I took one of her dark hands in mine, trying to steady her nerves.

“No, I haven’t even seen a single nurse doing a headcount since Cindy left,” Thelma stated as she pulled her knit cardigan closer around herself.

“What about the police? Shouldn’t they be swarming the place after someone was found dead?” Kendi questioned further, her voice slightly trembling now that her hands were steady.

“I don’t know, you’d think they would be, but I haven’t seen a single officer.

” A subtle nugget of fear started to grow in my stomach.

Did Daxton leave any evidence behind? Exactly how thorough an investigation would be done in a situation like this one?

How many times has he done this exactly?

And really, what the fuck was wrong with me fucking someone right next to the person they murdered?

Andrew slowly made his way into the lounge, taking a seat a little farther away from the three of us, though looking just as shaken up as everyone else.

I hoped I wasn’t noticeably too calm on the outside.

Everyone dealt with stress differently, but I still didn’t want to stick out to anyone who might observe our reactions.

“Was anyone still out in the hall?” Thelma asked the scared young boy, who just shook his head. I had to wonder if that was the first time he had seen a dead body since he was so young. Not many at that age had, but I, however, had seen two at a much younger age than him.

“His door has been shut,” Tyson muttered as he joined us, “I saw security locking it before I came down here.” He sat next to the younger man, offering a type of solidarity even though Andrew was completely withdrawn from the situation.

“A patient—when I first checked in—told me two other patients were able to commit suicide over the past several months,” Kendi muttered just loud enough for the rest of us to discern her words. “Brandon makes three.”

“Are you sure?” Tyson asked, taking a more logical approach. “They could have just been trying to mess with you.”

“He has a point, honey, I’m sure every place like this is ripe with rumors about death and depravity,” Thelma reasoned, trying to comfort her. I couldn’t help to wonder exactly how many had died under the guise of suicide.

“It’s possible I guess, I just thought places like this were supposed to protect us from being able to hurt ourselves,” Kendi said in response.

“If someone really wants to do it, they’ll always find a way regardless of their environment,” Tyson replied. I had to wonder if he spoke from experience with suicide. If he had a loved one who had committed the act.

At his words, we fell into silence for a few minutes, nothing really to be said without answers to what was happening. Clouds gathered in the early morning sky outside the windows, keeping their promise of bringing a rainy, dreary day. Still, no nurses were appearing to do a headcount.

After a few minutes in silence, Jessica appeared, just as put together as every other time I had seen her. Not a hair out of place, and her pantsuit was perfectly pressed. Given the mood this morning it was odd seeing someone not thrown off by the events.

“Good, you’re all here,” she greeted, not bothering to take a seat like she would do in our group therapy.

“Cindy had to go home for the time being. Until another nurse comes in, I’ll be taking over your schedule.

Collins should be on his way soon. I’m sure this morning has disrupted many of you, and I’ll be happy to answer any questions that I’m allowed to before we head down to breakfast.” Jessica was ever the professional as she spoke with clarity and confidence.

If she was bothered by the morbid events that took place, she didn’t let us see it.

“What happened?” Thelma voiced the question that must have been burning through everyone but me.

“It appears as though Mr. Everett took his own life last night, unofficially, of course,” She said without alluding to further details.

“How was he able to do it?” Kendi asked.

“What about the headcounts?” Tyson asked at the same time.

“I’m not at liberty to get into the details of the method Mr. Everett chose to use to end his life.

Just rest assured that there is no active threat to anyone else who is being treated here.

” I wasn’t the only one who noticed she failed to speak on the lack of headcounts that happened throughout the night from the look Tyson gave her.

“Now I’m sure this can be very triggering for some of you who have struggled with the same idealizations,” I felt her gaze linger on me for a little too long as she spoke, “So we are offering additional counseling to anyone who feels as though they need it.”

I didn’t volunteer for additional therapy since I had a scheduled session with Daxton later today.

Brandon's death didn’t trigger me like she believed it did.

I didn’t bother tugging up the neck of my sweater to try and hide the lingering bruising or touch the still-healing cuts on my arm.

His death wasn’t going to cause me any issues with my own mental health, other than an increased desire for my therapist on a sexual level.

“If everyone is ready, shall we head on down to breakfast and have a decent meal before facing the day?” She asked as thunder cracked outside, as darker clouds cast the room into near darkness, the dim fluorescent lights unable to keep the gloom completely at bay.

If ads affect your reading experience, click here to remove ads on this page.