Chapter 40
CHRISTOPHER
Winding up outside an asylum sets the tone for another brutal evening.
Hollow House stands at the end of an old schoolyard, an abandoned piece of land that had the misfortune of being converted into a psych ward. Gravel crunches under my feet as I walk towards the shadow sitting on the metal swing, the pit of dread in my stomach growing with every step I take.
Once you come in, you don’t come out.
Graffiti stains the faded brick building, twisted words that wretch an old man’s mouth apart in a silent scream. Insects skitter along his tongue, fanning each letter until they are swallowed and choked into existence.
Fucking disturbing doesn’t even begin to cover it.
“Do they not hire somebody to wash away the paint?”
It’s hard to tear my eyes away from the mural, but once I do, the sight doesn’t get any better.
Marlin Seaborn sits calmly on the rusty swing set, every shift of his body sending a metallic screech into the sky. He’s got a notebook in his hands, an old leather thing that looks like it’s been through the wringer one too many times.
“A cleaner comes around every few months but there is always a new piece waiting to replace it.”
The pale strands of his hair seem to glow in the moonlight. A sick sort of halo that casts an angelic glow over the expensive suit he’s got on.
Three piece, cuff links, and shoes to fucking match.
You would think the guy is hitting the runway, not committing a crime.
“Calista is helping Vector set up the entrance for the ventilation system.” Violet, unnaturally bright eyes find mine, “She will not be joining our excursion tonight.”
“I didn’t ask.”
“You didn’t have to.” A smirk hits his mouth, “Your features do little to hide the emotions bubbling beneath the surface. You are an easy man to read, Christopher Deville, and I am afraid that is a dangerous trait to have in a town like this.”
I glare at him, fed up with his pompous attitude and the perfectly coifed hair.
“I didn’t ask for your opinion.”
“No. I suppose you didn’t.” Amusement flares momentarily, “Although your hatred of wealthy men clearly stems from the abandonment issues you have with your mother. A pity, really, because you would have done well following in her footsteps. You possess a natural charm that is not easy to teach and the kind of unkept manners that married women find appealing.”
“Are you always this rude or do you just like pissing people off?”
Venom spikes my tongue, the toxic combination of my mother and not enough sleep putting a grey fucking cloud over my head.
“A bit of both, I’m afraid.” He jots down a couple more lines before flipping the notebook closed, “There are only so many ways to trigger a reaction and I am quite fascinated by them all.”
Unsettling words that have me shifting uneasily.
“If you’re done writing in your diary, can we go now?”
He smiles at my sharp tone, a creepy fucking smile that has me wishing I was partnered with anyone else tonight.
“Lead the way.”
Crows call in the distance, undisguisable cries that clip at our heels as we head towards the psych ward. Barbed wire fences rise up near the entrance, a strange funneling system that forces us into a single file line up until we reach the front steps.
Hollow House Vacancy: Now Open for New Patients.
Neon red lights blink ominously, an unnatural glow that hangs over the reinforced steel doors waiting below.
Thick and impenetrable, they’re the kind of doors meant to keep people inside.
Not keep people out.
The last bit of fresh air brushes the back of my neck as I push through the front door. It opens with a groan, blasting my nostrils with the sterile scent of a hospital and overused chemicals.
“Christopher!”
Chanted in unison, two girls look at me expectedly. Set up like a waiting room, three folding chairs line the dismal entrance while a brunette and a redhead grin at me from their spot behind the counter.
“We were wondering when we’d see you again.”
“Ah, yes. I thought I’d pop by and say hello.” Clearing my throat, I paste a grin on my face, “See how you ladies were holding up.”
Marlin chuckles softly, a low amusement that grates on my nerves.
“So... how are things?”
“Good.”
“Terrible.”
They answer at the same time again, their voices crossing over each other until the redhead turns to her stepsister with a scowl.
“Shut your trap, Gizelle. You never let me have the first say.”
“Never? Why, just last night I had to listen to you go on about that boy from the market-
“What boy? The one you were blabbering to yesterday?”
The bickering kicks in, loud and obnoxious in such a tight setting. A headache builds behind my eyes, a thunderous beat that feels just as painful as these stuffy corners.
“Talia, was it?”
Leaning forward, I gently touch the redhead’s wrist. Her gasp flutters through the room while her sister’s eyes bulge out of her head.
“Actually, her name is Anastasia-
“Talia is perfect.” She breathes out the word, causing one thick ringlet to bounce across her shoulder, “I’ve never liked my name much.”
“Talia it is.” Tracing my finger up her arm, I squeeze the flesh softly, “Would you mind telling me where the high security patients are kept? My cousin isn’t the only one who lost his mind on the way here.”
She laughs a bit too loud for a bit too long.
“You Australians are so funny. Do they teach you comedy down where you are?”
Gizele nudges her, “He’s Scottish, remember?”
“Shh.” Slapping her sister away, Anastasia gives me a blinding smile, “You’ll need a registered key and the family name.”
I sigh, motioning for her to lean forward, “Here’s the thing. I forgot my key back home and the family name was lost a long time ago.”
“Well, in that case I’m afraid I cannot-
Her mouth snaps shut when I reach over and touch her necklace. A glass slipper hangs on the end of a silver chain, a chain I slowly trace with my fingers.
Across her collarbones and around the back of her neck.
“Are you sure you can’t do this one thing for me?” Whispering in her ear, I throw her sister a wink while Marlin reaches over the counter and fishes out the key, “We could keep it a secret, Talia.”
“I-I...”
A blush stains her cheeks, her mouth opening and closing without any success.
Kissing her cheek gently, I pull away and give her an understanding smile.
“You are a vault that cannot be cracked. Better luck next time, yeah?”
“Yeah... I mean, no. Wait!”
Dresses rustle as the girls fight to make it out of their admin booth. I blow them each a kiss and follow Marlin past the reception area and through the newly unlocked door.
A foghorn echoes through the building as we step over the threshold.
“You use physical touch.”
“What?”
“Physical touch.” Marlin pulls a leaver and the noise comes to a stop, “It’s how you disarm people. Intrude on their personal space and use it to your advantage.”
My chest feels tight as we step into a narrow hallway, one that has plain white doors running along each side. Bars seal off gaps and nonexistent windows, the metal slots sitting beneath the patient’s name acting as a peephole for the eyes watching us.
“Yeah, so what?”
“It’s interesting.” His dress shoes gleam against the dirty tiles, their sharp click an alarm in its own right, “There is only one other person I’ve witnessed use that technique and she is not with us tonight.”
The ache that hasn’t left my chest worsens at the mention of Calista. I keep my eyes focused on the open space ahead, opting not to think about the killer I found in the forest last night.
The mother who will never conceive a child.
My sullen silence grows and so do the curious looks Marlin sends my way.
“You are surprisingly popular with the ugly stepsisters. I assume this is not the first time your paths have crossed?”
“Why does everyone keep calling them that?”
He chuckles softly, “You would understand if you saw their sister.”
These people are fucking brutal.
The cells start to grow farther apart, the distance between each stagnant door slowly increasing in metres. Eyes follow our every step, different coloured orbs tracking our movement through Hollow House as though it were their own.
“Are you ready? I said, are you ready!”
Melodic singing drifts from the door at the end of the hall. A tangled dreadlock hangs from the metal tab, a sliver of the man’s identity weaving around a flimsy purple feather.
“And what do we have here? A man from across the sea.”
A gap-toothed smile presses up against the open space, blackened teeth desperately hanging on to the gums holding them in place.
“He’s looking for green, my friends! Green to take home to the mother land.” His eyes catch mine and his smile widens, “But how will he be satisfied with green when there is so much gold to find?”
“How does he-
“Dr. Faciler. I heard you’ve been spending some time in Hollow House.” Marlin cuts in smoothly, his eyes dancing across the name plate, “Did the voodoo dolls finally catch up to you?”
“Do not disrespect me, young man.” An eyeball presses up against the slot, clumsy stitches holding the hideous thing together, “Your fate lies in my hands. Humble hands that can transform the most powerful man into a slimy, slippery creature no one could ever love.”
“How terrifying. Let’s go.”
A card slides out from beneath the door. Skitters through the grime and filth until it hits the sole of my boot.
“Take a look, foreigner. Take a look and show me what it tells you.”
A skull etches itself through the back of the card, purple hues melding together until it feels like I’m looking at a kaleidoscope.
Marlin gives me a pointed look, “Don’t touch it.”
“Don’t touch it, he says.” Throwing his head back, the man starts to laugh, “As if the Sea Witch’s son knows anything about the other side. A man so bleached of emotion he had to find a new source to replenish himself. A splotch of red so vibrant it gushes from the slightest touch.”
The resounding click of Marlin’s dress shoes comes to a stop.
“Has she forgiven you? Has she forgiven you for letting her bleed out? On pavement, no less. Where her disgrace could be broadcasted and your failure-
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Dr. Faciler goes crashing into the metal door as Marlin yanks on the tight dreadlocks of his hair. Fury burns through the crisp edges of his suit, muscles straining against the custom material as he slams the weathered man over and over until blood spurts and neighbouring patients start to scream.
“Guards! Somebody help!”
Laughter breaks through the panic, a smooth harmonic sound that spills from a beaten face and drips onto the floor.
“Looks like the young man found some emotion after all.”
A card tumbles from the bloodstained slot and flutters through the air.
Marlin fishes it out of his suit jacket pocket and flicks it to the floor without a second glance.
“We’ve wasted enough time.”
He turns and heads for the closest door. I’m stunned, speechless, as I look at the man grinning at me through an inch of space. A bruise is already forming around his torn eyeball, the seedlings of black eye well and truly planted.
“I’m going to let you in on a secret, Christopher. Man-to-man, sinner-to-sinner.” His lips split, blood oozing between the gap of his teeth, “A friend of a friend doesn’t make him a friend.”
My heart starts to pound as the screams grow louder.
“Guards! There’s a madman loose in the hall!”
“Deville, are you coming?”
Marlin gives me an impatient look, his stone cold demeanour already set back in place.
There’s a stutter in my step as I follow him through to the next area, a hesitation in my hands as I take the keys from him.
The high security chamber unlocks with a beep and my temporary crew member slips through, his white hair glowing in the darkened room.
“Are you ready? Oh, I said are you ready!”
The song is no less creepy this time around, the same dreadlocks hanging through the metal slot as the man grins at me with bloodstained teeth.
The discarded card lies face-up on the ground. A familiar portrait stares back at me, a gruesome piece that howls in agony and sends chills racing down my spine.
A wolf screams as hunters drive their arrows through him, ripping the fur from his skin and leaving hideous marks behind.
It’s a perfect replica of my tattoo except for the words written along the bottom.
What are you afraid of?