“But a phoenix must always burn first before it can rise from its own ashes – and when it does, it comes out even stronger than before, having grown from the painful events that led to its transformation.”
Ashley Reed is far from your normal teenager - after all, how many 'normal' fourteen year olds find themselves stuck on a psych ward for weeks on end with delusions of having superpowers? ...probably not many. Fortunately, Dr Viktor Voss -- his named psychiatrist -- has devised a complex treatment plan to help manage his condition with promising results and seems to have nothing but his best interests in mind. However, being unable to tell fact from fiction is NOT easy, especially when things at Ivy Institute aren't exactly as they may seem...or is it just all in his head?
In this case...fact may well be stranger than fiction...
Master-list
(Note: Depending on interest, this may include whole chapters, or just snippets for interest)
RFTA 00 - Run
RFTA 01 - Fact-or-fiction
RFTA 02 - Paranoia
RFTA 03 - New neighbour?
RFTA 04 - Adverse Reaction
RFTA 05 - Freak, or unique?
RFTA 06 - Real, or not real?
RFTA 07 - Best interests
RFTA 08 - Doctor's Orders
RFTA 09 - Slipping Sanity
RFTA 10 - Powercut
Join our colourful super squad on a journey of trauma-recovery, self-discovery and transformation on this crazy and emotional roller-coaster. As a collaborative project with dear friends of mine, it has been my pleasure to write these wonderful blorbos x
- MAIN CAST -
ASH - 14 yo, protagonist, resident 'freak', sensitive nature-loving bean with significant insecurities and self-proclaimed 'superpowers'
DR VOSS - 49 yo, Ash's named psychiatrist, lover of earl-grey, father figure, compassionate and charming. Only has Ash's best interests at heart
KRISSY - 14 yo, very normal bean with a good sense of humour and a healthy dose of snarky commentary. Creative, artistic and one of the more 'paranoid' patients. Struggles with memory issues.
ACHILLES - ??? - major trust issues, 'outside bad', very child-like, much to learn about the world
- SUPPORTING CAST -
DR SLADE (belongs to @whumpsmith) - ...deluded 'immortal' guy and Ash's ward-mate. Definitely has totally lost it down the line. His partner is apparently both an angel and a demon.
DEX (belongs to @/distressed_mess on deviantart - also goes by Dr Simmons, works as Dr Voss's apprentice, very bright and cheerful. Heals surprisingly quickly.
BENJI (belongs to @/sushi4427 on deviantart) - Brazilian bean with a good combination of fire and goofiness. Often curses. Don't let him near your electronics.
ELLIOT (belongs to @/Silverdragon1715 on deviantart) - Has the alias 'Wizard', physics-loving goober, big bro energy
SIBERIA (belongs to @/Silverdragon1715 on deviantart) - Best girl, sweet angelic, caring, empathetic, big sister, touch-her-and-you'll-regret-it.
(and many others!)
I'm feeling especially self-doubty lately, but I've decided to pluck up the courage and show off more of my work to try and get a lil bit of a confidence boost (blame my dear friends @whumpsmith and @illustriousshadow for this, you two are the best x)
Right now, this is my main writing project, having taken 4 years of brainstorming and 1.5 years to write the first draft (whilst juggling my career as a junior doctor!) and currently undergoing a much needed revamp. How much I post will depend on interest (possibly a once weekly snippet on a Friday?), but I might post sprinklings now and again of particularly emotional or whumpy scenes to start building things up.
But one thing is for certain - expect lots of medwhump, psychological torment and good ol' fashioned suffering...(hehe)
Thanks so much for taking the time to read this and see you all soon! xx
Hi lovely Lightbugs x
Sooo I know I recently said I would be returning to RFTA posting soon, but I've hit a bit of an issue at 75% through the story where something about the beginning was...really not sitting right with me. There was just something off and after re-reading feedback from the first few chapters (huge thanks to @melpomenelamusa for the indirect inspiration! :D) I realised what it was and that for better flow and relevance in the latter half of the story, I need to amend basically the first 10 chapters of RFTA -- which is everything I've written and posted on here so far :') (for reference, I'm currently writing Chapter 34 so still definitely making progress!)
This does unfortunately mean rewriting everything I've posted here, which is quite tedious and bothersome especially as my focus may jump from the current chapter to the earlier chapters as well as juggling GP training and exam prep so...yeah. It's going to take a little time, so RFTA is going on hiatus for a bit. I estimate no more than a few months but it all depends.
Thank you so much to all of the people continuing to support the series and show interest and I'm sorry to have gotten some of your hopes up with an overdue chapter.
Sending love and best wishes to you all and hope you have a wonderful summer! :D xx
Aww thanks so much for the question buddy :D
I've never been sure how to properly set up asks, but it looks like this works!
Okay sooo if I had to break it down to my main RFTA guys, It'd have to be the following:
------
Ash - Hot chocolate with marshmallows, no cream, plus a honey flapjack and a brie and cranberry pannini
Krissy - Caramel spiced latte with gingerbread to dip and a ham and cheese toastie
Achilles - Apple juice with a slice of chocolate cake and a roast chicken sandwich
Voss - Earl grey blend with a danish pastry and a baked potato with butter and salad, no cheese.
------
Thanks so much fork the ask, that was really fun! :D
If anyone has any specific questions they'd like to ask any of my kiddos, then by all means feel free to do so!
Also, apologies for the massive delay in publishing the next RFTA chapter! I actually have up until Chapter 31 written out, but its having the time to proof-read and edit and work has been ramping up lately so I haven't had much free time. However, I WILL aim to get onto this soon and thank you so much for your patience and continued support in the meantime :D xx
Hello! I’m Shadow, I am in my late 20’s, and I primarily write whumpy stories both of my OCs and occasionally some fanfiction. A lot of my stories are short, fun little one offs, but I am trying to get into writing some series (more on them below). My ask box and DMs are open so feel free to drop in and ask about any of my OCs, WIPs, or just anything really.
Preferences:
Kidnapping
Medieval, fantasy, or sci-fi settings
Hostage Situations
Captive/Rescue
Superheroes
M/M romance
Dislikes:
Sexual content past kissing
Permeant Injuries
Excessive Gore
Violence towards animals
Fandoms (non-exhaustive):
Fire Emblem
Unicorn Overlord
Triangle Strategy
My Hero Academia
Genshin Impact
Honkai Star Rail
Series:
The Frostbringer Chronicles follows Evan Kennedy, the hero Frostbringer, as he establishes himself as Coral City's sole super while also navigating life as a high school senior. Will also feature some familiar faces from another heroes based series on Tumblr.
Contains: superheroes, gay romance, lighthearted fun
Requests:
I do not take commissions because my writing bug come and goes these days and the added pressure of money added into the mix won't help. However, I will take requests. I can't guarantee they will be written, but if the request sparks an idea, that would be great for both of us. I will write stories featuring OCs and from fandoms listed above or from other fandoms depending on how familiar I am with them. All requests can be sent to my ask box or DMs.
T/W: Medical references, Mental Health themes, Escape Attempt, shock-collars, electrocution
<prev | masterlist | next>
“Run — get out — GO!”
Pandemonium. Everyone has lost it. The whole place is in utter uproar. Voices scream out. Warning shouts are exchanged. Frantic orders are lost in the shrieking. Flashes whizz by, many of them sprinting madly for a single destination and I just…stand there. Stiff and frozen amongst the current insanity, staring with horrified eyes around me.
Everyone is just…running?
“C-come on!”
Krissy suddenly snatches up my hand. With a forceful tug, he drags me towards the gaping open entrance to the garden. Others are way ahead of us, having already reached the doors. A shoulder knocks into me. My ears ring painfully. Both of my grippy socks almost catch against the cobblestones. I barely stay on my feet—
“Stop — STOP!”
The nurses unsuccessfully try to block the wave of fleeing uniforms. Our skinny frames effortlessly weave past them, stumbling straight for the doors—
BRRRR. BRRR. BRRRR.
A warning droning echoes from the corridor outside. The crimson glow flickers in and out, adding to the already unnerving atmosphere.
“Security to the first floor — Code Red — I repeat — Code Red!”
The desperate hollers eventually fade behind us. Every alarm only intensifies its blaring around us. The two of us are swept away by the masses, stumbling along to avoid being left behind. More voices cry out to each other. A few grey shirts filter off in a different direction. Krissy’s hand remains locked around mine as we scramble along the corridor, searching for—
No escape, Ashley.
My feet suddenly freeze. It’s at that very moment that I finally regain my senses.
“Wait—Kris, wait!”
My pleas go unheard, even as they continue to drag me after them. “We can’t do this—we need to go back!”
“No, we don’t!” Krissy retaliates firmly, “Not now we’ve already—”
“B-but we’ll get in trouble with—!”
“And we’ll be in even more trouble when security gets here!” he retorts, pulling my protesting form along, “We gotta go now! Before they catch up!”
Fear courses through my veins. The thought of returning to that colourless room and those horrible restraints makes me want to throw up.
I’m not going back there again.
“Kris, stop—stop!”
I dig my feet firmly into the floor, making it as difficult as possible for Krissy to get me to move.
“Ash what—what are you doing?!”
My feet remain stubbornly locked in position. No matter how hard Krissy pulls me, my body only sways slightly in retaliation. “Didn’t you hear me?! We gotta go!”
“But we can’t!” I protest, panic entering my voice, “This isn’t right! We’re supposed to stay—!”
“Look around you, Ash! Who else here is staying put?”
He jerks his head around us, gesturing to the other fleeing patients. “None of them are turning back, Ash. Not a single one. Doesn’t that tell you something?”
I can see it for myself. Not one of them is hesitating. They’re all taking this one chance for freedom, as ludicrous as it feels. Confusion mounting, I peer desperately over my shoulder. Between the blaring alarms still tearing through my head and the evidence of fleeing patients in front of me..I’m actually torn.
“B-but—!”
A string of cries cuts me off. Krissy spins around with a gasp, just in time to see three other patients staggering against the wall. The nearest one clutches at her neck with a whimper, sparks flying from her choker. I inhale sharply.
“N-no…”
Krissy’s face pales. His free hand moves for his choker, gulping. “How are they—”
“Remotes,” I answer uneasily, “The guards have them — they’re already activating them as a deterrent!”
And it’s probably only a matter of time before ours go off too!
“H-how do we get them off?” Krissy asks immediately, brushing his fingers against his choker as I rack my brains for the answer.
It was…oh God, come on—what was it?!
“The guards — they used some kind of key,” I respond, swallowing uncomfortably, “I-I don’t know how it worked, but somehow it controlled the—”
More shrieks pierce the air. They’re joined by a boy’s terrified pleading, then the sound of something being shot. Heavy hurried footsteps. A flicker of shadowy silhouettes further down the corridor.
No — they’re already here?!
More collars spark to life. Bodies begin violently twitching as they go down. My neck begins to feel uncomfortably warm—
“O-ours could be next.”
Krissy stiffens on the spot. I feel his hand starting to shake. All I can do is stare back into his brown irises. Our mounting fear is mirrored in our eyes.
Stay or run, it doesn’t matter anymore! It’s too late! Either way I’ll lose!
“W-we need to get to another floor,” I decide quickly, tightly grasping his hand, “Get far enough away before the shocks kick in — head for the stairs!”
“G-got it!”
We run. I don’t let anything distract me. Not the footsteps, or the nearby screams for help that die down within seconds. Guilt gnaws at my chest — but there’s nothing we can do. Nothing but keep on running.
“Up or down?”
“Up,” I pant, “H-hurry!”
My bare feet pound against the cold laminate floor. Every step digs into my soles. Each exerted gasp for breath tugs at my chest. My heart rate soars. I barely avoid tripping in panic, focusing on climbing up the steps. Krissy wheezes beside me, all but throwing himself against the door as we make it to the next level. Below us, the footsteps sound distant, swarming around the second floor. We permit ourselves a quick sigh of relief.
“O-okay, now what?”
“We jump one of the guards and get the key,” I improvise, chewing on my lower lip, “After that I…I-I don’t know, we just uh, try to stay hidden or something?”
I peer back at him, wincing. “Y-you got any other ideas, Kris?”
“Not really, but—wait.”
His eyes suddenly widen in realisation. “My sketchbook! I never grabbed it!”
I feel my face twinging at their understandable panic. “Oh God—I gotta go back!”
“We can’t!” I hiss, “You said it yourself — we need to keep—”
“But what about all my—!”
A sudden scream rings out from the stairwell behind us. Both of us flinch, our faces paling.
Damnit—!
“Nngh…n-never mind.”
Reluctant defeat shines in Krissy’s eyes. He gives his head a hard shake, forcing back any further complaints. “L-let’s just check the floor.”
I heave the doors open, allowing Krissy and I to slip through them. We’re instantly bathed in the same red beams as the previous one. The sudden power-outage must be affecting the whole hospital. Surprisingly we don’t run into any guards on this route, allowing us to sprint freely down the corridor, stopping in front of another pair of wide open doors.
“Here! Let’s hide in here for a sec!” Krissy urges, nudging me inside, “Hopefully they’ll just walk straight past us!”
“Wait — which ward is this?”
“Maple Ward — which also happens to be my ward,” he replies quickly, “Either way, we should be safe for—huh?”
Both of us pause beside what I assume to be the nurses’ station. The ward is practically empty. There isn’t another person in sight — and that’s not the only glaringly odd thing.
“The doors — they’re all open!”
Clusters of sturdy doors — unlocked doors — line the ward corridors. Hurrying to the nearest one, we peek inside the abandoned room. No one’s inside. We try a second and then a third. No patients. No nurses. The same is probably true for the other rooms.
“And they’re all empty,” I realise, wincing, “so the patients here must have tried to run too.”
“Looks like it,” Krissy sighs, “I guess the powercut even took out these doors — not that I’m complaining!”
My attention shifts to the nearby ID lock. Moving closer to inspect it, I squint down at the little device. Something is instantly off.
“Or maybe this had something to do with it?”
Krissy soon joins me, blinking in shock.
“Whoa,” he gasps, “The lock’s totally fried.”
He checks the previous cell’s lock, being met with a similar result. “All of them are!”
‘Fried’ would be a bit of an understatement. Multiple sparks leap from the electronic device, dancing over the now blackened metal. Wires peek out from the inside, fully exposed. All of them are a frazzled mess.
Those definitely won’t be functioning again anytime soon.
“I bet the other wards are the same,” I murmur, backing away from the lock, “which means the whole hospital must be in—hnnk!”
The shock almost takes my breath away. A horribly familiar stinging shoots across my neck. I grimace, leaning against the wall for support. Even Krissy has to help steady me to keep me on my feet.
“Ash! Are you—”
“Fine — nngh — I-I’m fine,” I force out, taking a few deep breaths, “but we really need to find that key before yours starts—”
I trail off. A sudden familiar sound plays out in the distance — footsteps.
“That might be one of them now!” Krissy hisses, helping me along, “O-okay, how are we gonna—”
“Wait.”
I hold up a hand, listening closer to the approaching footsteps. I misheard it the first time, but definitely not this time.
Clacking.
Oh no...
“That’s not a guard, Kris!”
Frantically, my eyes scan the ward for any potential hiding spots. Just a couple of metres away is a brown squishy couch. “Get down, now!”
The two of us hurry towards it, dropping onto the ground. My back presses against tacky leather. The collar shocks me again, actually sparking this time. My pained cry is muffled by my own hand. I stuff it into my mouth, biting down on it to keep quiet. Krissy takes hushed shaky breaths beside me. Our shoulders brush against each other. We’re just as tense as each other. The footsteps are now louder than ever, coming from the ward entrance. The clacking heels carry through the silent area. A few seconds later, I see his tall figure sweep past the lounge, before stopping about ten metres away.
“...verdammt.”
I can’t see the expression on his face from here, but I can definitely hear the panicked edge to his curse. “Where are—how did this—scheisse!”
Both of us flinch against the couch at his uncharacteristically fierce yell. I bite down on my fist even harder—
“Voss!”
An unfamiliar figure storms through the open doors. Swallowing, I dare to peer around the couch, catching a glimpse of his main features. Both of his sharp piercing eyes narrow in a glare, aimed directly at the doctor. “Update, now. What is happening?”
I shudder at his intimidating air, especially the stern expression of authority twisting his tanned face. It goes perfectly well with his short grey buzzcut and dark ironed uniform.
“The power outage is affecting the whole building,” Dr Voss answers carefully, “I have no idea who or what is responsible, but I am putting the entire facility into lockdown. No one is to leave or enter until every single one of my patients have been relocated and brought back to their wards.”
“And Slade?” the other man demands gruffly.
“Rest assured, General, he will be found.”
My eyes widen.
Wait, Slade? As in Doctor Slade? But wasn’t he transferred to another—
“He better be,” he grunts, “That old man is like a thorn in my side. Always been a real piece of work — and I can’t even kill him for it.”
What’s going—ack!
The collar zaps me again. I barely muffle a sob in my knuckle. My eyes sting. A metallic tang hits my tongue. Krissy sucks in an anxious breath.
Not. A. Sound—
“You do realise what’s at stake here, Voss?” General Guy continues, “His existing knowledge makes him a threat to the US Counterintelligence Department. If that gets out and we allow his kind to run around unchecked like a loose cannon—”
“I do understand, General. I know full well what is at stake for you and I gave you my word that I would prevent that,” Dr Voss responds through gritted teeth, “I promise you, it will only be a matter of time before he is found.”
“Good. I’ve called my men to provide backup, but I would have hoped your existing security measures might have taken an event like this into account. Believe me, this is more than a simple power outage to cause this much—”
“Sir!”
Another pair of footsteps ring out. I clamp my hands over my mouth, panting through the pain of the ongoing shocks. “We got all the main floors covered and the exits secured. They’re all being apprehended as we speak and we’re working on the backup generator. None of them should breach the—”
“How many of them are still out there?”
“Uh, we’re still cross-referencing ID numbers but—”
“Then get me those exact numbers so we know who is still yet to be accounted for!” my doctor demands, frustration evident in his tone, “You know the ones most at risk. They are the priority, understood? Focus the bulk of your efforts on securing them — especially the sanitatems! I want them back in their rooms and this power outage resolved as soon as possible!”
“And if it can’t be?” General Guy asks coolly.
“If not, then we will have no choice but to organise a mass transfer to another facility. Pembrooke always has at least one alternative option. Trust me, General, we will fix this.”
I feel my throat tightening at the desperation in his raised voice. Krissy muffles his own breathing behind his hands. “And why are you still standing there, Jenkins?”
“Oh uh, I was just leaving, sir—”
“Then go! Dismissed!”
The guard wisely hurries away without wasting another second, the others’ footsteps soon joining his own. As shaken as we both are, we know what we have to do — especially as the collar burns my neck again. Drawing more blood from my knuckles, I finally remove my hand, peeking behind the edge of the couch. Both doctor and general have already moved away.
“I-I think we’re good,” I whisper, “Follow that guard.”
“R-right.”
The two of us cautiously make our move. Soon Maple Ward is far behind us, our sights set on our new target. My legs are quickly growing weaker from the shocks, but I bite through it, ignoring the red teeth marks that decorate my knuckle. I’m just very glad that Krissy hasn’t had to deal with this himself. After carefully checking our bearings, we creep after the unsuspecting guard. No one else is around in the corridor. It’s just us.
“Okay,” Krissy breathes, mentally psyching himself up, “Let’s get him.”
This is mad — but to quote the Cheshire Cat: ‘we’re all mad here’. Literally. This is a psych hospital after all...I think?
I decide to swallow the lingering doubts for now.
“We run at him on three. One, two —”
“Three!”
The two of us barrel into him with a yell. It’s enough to knock the guard off his feet, kicking his large form to the ground.
“Hey — gnngh — get off me, you brat!”
“Fat chance!” Krissy snaps, scrabbling furiously with him, “Ash, the key! Grab it—ack!”
My companion cries out as he’s easily tossed aside. Seizing my chance, I make a grab for the guard’s belt, trying to snag the key. His surprisingly strong grip instantly locks around my wrist, pinning me in place.
“Nice try, kid,” he growls, jerking his head up at the sound of distant footsteps, “Hey! Down here! I got two more runaways!”
More uniforms start appearing around us. My face pales.
Not good!
In a last desperate bid to get free, I find the exposed skin of his wrist and bite down on it — hard. His curses are lost over the sound of my racing heart. Yanking myself free, I begin to run.
“Quick! That way!”
Snatching onto my hand, Krissy tugs me down the adjoining corridor. The footsteps follow after us, hurrying in hot pursuit. Warning sparks erupt from the collar as it proceeds to shock me again.
No!
This time, I allow myself to scream.
“Ash!”
Krissy stops beside me. He grabs onto my arm to support me as my knees almost give way, “We gotta hurry! They’re right behind—”
“I know!” I pant, blood dribbling down my chin from earlier, “Just keep going!”
“Not on my own!” he retorts, pulling me along, “Now help me out here — hnnk!”
Krissy starts to cough, slowing slightly under my weight as we stumble onwards. Gritting my teeth through the pain, I force myself after him. My body twitches from the remnants of the last shock still coursing through my system. I try to keep track of the directions and corridors, even with the guards’ threats ringing behind us.
Down — then right — then another right, then—!
Our feet come to an abrupt halt. The corridor doesn’t branch off anywhere. It doesn’t show any signs of continuing. All that faces us is a door leading to a small storeroom. It’s the only door in or out — and there’s definitely no place to hide in there.
“D-dead end?” Krissy stammers in disbelief, “but—!”
“Hold it there, kids!”
One glance over our shoulders reveals we won’t be slipping past the guards. Four of them block our path, leering at us severely. All four of them are armed with similar weapons. Backtracking isn’t an option.
We’re both cornered and outnumbered.
No escape. Just like he said—
“Just be good and come along quietly,” the tallest one orders as they start to close in on us, “Don’t make us have to use force.”
“B-back off!” Krissy snaps, his wavering voice betraying his fear, “Don’t you touch us!”
I can see the tears shining in his eyes, revealing how afraid he really is. Noticing that, I pull myself in front of him, holding out my arms.
“Stay away from us.”
It…honestly sounds pathetic. I must look pathetic, with my weedy shaking arms and my own teary cheeks. Even so, I bare my teeth in warning, glaring at them all. “D-don’t come any closer!”
Krissy blinks back at me fearfully.
“Ash—”
“Heh, looks like we’ve got ourselves a hero.”
I growl at the stubbiest one, pressing back just a little as they aim their weapons in our direction. “This isn’t playtime, kid. Just give up. There’s nowhere for you to run.”
He’s right — I know he is — but my gut still tells me to hold my ground.
“Nngh…n-no.”
My response only elicits another grim glare from Leader. Krissy grabs onto my arm as they shuffle closer. Their weapons pulse with electricity, probably stunners or something. Nothing pleasant at all.
“Then don’t say you weren’t given a chance.”
The triggers all click in unison. I screw my eyes shut, bracing myself for the pain — a pain that never comes.
“Huh?”
Krissy inhales sharply. Daring to open a single eye, I see the guards still aiming at us, repeatedly clicking their triggers. Frustration crosses their faces as…nothing happens. The electric sparks around them die, fizzling out as their weapons are rendered useless.
How did that just—
“Wow. What a bunch of cowards.”
My other eye quickly opens at the new voice. The guards’ attention is no longer on us. All of them are turned towards a fifth figure. I can’t see much from our current distance, but he also seems to be wearing a grey shirt that clings to his tanned form, a scowl filling his face. “Four armed guys against two helpless kids? That’s a pretty unfair setup right there, don’t you think?”
I can hear the disgust in his voice as he continues. “What’s the matter? Scared of a couple of unarmed teenagers? Or maybe you dumbasses just don’t know how to count?”
Leader slowly turns around. I almost expect him to start breathing fire.
“Who are you to—”
“I would suggest using the calculator app on your phones, but actually that will be kinda useless from riiiight about…now.”
The effect is instantaneous. Multiple items simultaneously frazzle from inside their pockets, charring the fabric of their trousers. Their only responses are exclamations of shock and fury.
What in the—
“D-did he just break their phones?” Krissy hisses to me, blinking in shock, “Without even touching them?!”
“Looks like it—”
“Whoops, I did it again.”
The stranger shakes his head, his messy dark hair brushing past his eyes. A smirk sits firmly on his face. “Hope those were brand new — it’s the least a bunch of lowlifes like you deserve.”
Wait, is he the one who fried all the locks back—AGH!
Another shock tears through me. My knees finally do give out as I drop to the ground, grabbing at the collar. The mysterious stranger stares back in our direction. His eyes narrow.
“And they definitely won’t be needing those things anymore.”
He’s barely uttered that last promise before I hear a familiar whirring against my neck.
The collar!
The shocks stop. My limbs are still shaking even as the metal clasp unlocks. The collar slips free to the floor with a final clang. Almost immediately I begin to feel it again — the heat, the burning, the fire. It spreads through every nerve and every cell, slowly filling my body. Even through my blurred vision, I’m able to see it clearly. No matter how many times I blink, it’s still there, leaping off my fingers.
The green fire.
Then that means—!
“I-I knew it…”
Suddenly it all comes back. Everything I had been fighting, all that I had been denying, each memory that was just ‘all in my head’ — it’s there. It’s right there in front of me. Even now I still doubt it, but it’s literally glowing before my eyes.
“Wh-what…the…heck?”
Krissy is frozen behind me. His mouth gapes open, gawping at me as if I’ve just grown a second head. That’s all the evidence I need to know the truth.
This is real.
Unfortunately, we don’t have the time for explanations right now.
“Sigmas—stop them!”
Before I’ve even properly recovered, two of them are heading straight for us. The other two take on Electric Guy. He lunges forward, cursing in what I assume to be a foreign language.
“Porra—don’t worry! I’ll take ‘em down—nngh!”
Before we can respond the two other guards are grabbing at us. I don’t give them a chance. I just throw the green fire right in their faces. Both of them shriek out in fury. At the same time, Krissy finally recovers enough to join me.
“Hyagh!”
He drives his elbow sharply into the second one’s side, using his limited strength to fight. I kick wildly, trying to sweep the guard’s legs out from under him whilst trying to remember the main fight scenes from every action movie I’ve ever watched. Across from us, I notice Electric Guy shoving one of the guards against the wall.
“You picked the wrong supers to mess with, buddy!”
He wastes no time leaping to our aid. His knuckles drive into the taller one’s stomach, sending him down to the ground with a groan. As Electric Guy aims another well-aimed kick in his direction, I notice Krissy struggling madly, pinned firmly against the wall.
“Nngho — nngh — get off!”
“Kris!”
I don’t hesitate. I throw myself onto the guard’s back, wrapping my fiery hands around his neck to force him to let go. It gives Krissy just enough time to scramble a safe distance away. What I had not anticipated was for the guard to grasp onto my upper body and flip me viciously over his head. A startled yell leaves my throat, followed by a pained grunt as my back slams into the hard floor behind me.
“Big mistake, kid.”
My assailant’s rough fingers suddenly wrap around my neck. I choke, desperately clawing at his arms in panic whilst trying to burn him with the fire-thing. His hold eventually loosens and I roll out from under him. Wheezing through my constricted throat, I throw another wave of fire at him to slow him down. Krissy grabs onto my shoulders, pulling me further away from the now furious guard.
Crap crap crap—
“Oho you’re gonna regret that, brat.”
He ominously stalks towards us — but he never gets to make good on his threat. “Gnnk—what are you—hnnk!”
“Don’t say you weren’t given a chance, Ugly.”
With that ironic sense of karma, Electric Guy tightens his chokehold, rendering our attacker unconscious in a matter of a few seconds. As his body drops to the ground, Electric Guy spins towards us. His expression quickly softens. “You two alright? Not hurt?”
“W-we’ll live,” I answer shakily, still rubbing my sore throat, “Thanks for stepping in, uh—”
“Don’t mention it, bud.”
He peers down at us, holding out his hand. “Come on, we probably shouldn’t stick around here. They won’t stay down for long.”
No objections with that plan!
I grasp onto his hand tightly, allowing him to pull me to my feet. I can’t help but trace along my bare throat as he pulls Krissy back up, feeling somewhat…weird without the collar. I’ve been so used to that cold feeling around my neck, wearing it every single day. I almost feel...naked without it, as if a part of my identity has been stripped away.
All we can do is nod. With no other complaints, Electric Guy takes the lead. The two of us somewhat awkwardly follow him along the corridors, doing our best to keep up. I’m still a little wobbly on my legs from the earlier shocks, but the feeling is thankfully fading now, instead being replaced with a welcoming energy that radiates from my figure. It looks completely out of place when set against the current crimson glow of the entire floor.
Wow. Green makes a nice contrast against red.
We move quietly, sticking to the walls where possible. We’re fortunate enough not to physically encounter any more guards, although the distant cries of re-captured patients are impossible to miss. Gritting our teeth, we stumble onwards, finally stopping outside of another ward — and just as I predicted, it’s as abandoned as the last one.
“Okay, we’ll stop here for a sec, catch our breath a lil.”
Electric Guy herds us inside the nearest room of the ward. The only contrast it has with Maple Ward is the position of the lounge and the lack of fried ID locks beside the open doors.
“How come these locks aren’t fried?” I ask, dropping down on the empty bed next to Krissy.
“Oh, those probably went out when I cut off the main power supply,” Electric Guy explains, “I imagine it’s the same for the other wards — but those fried locks you mentioned? I had to take care of those first when I busted out of my own ‘ward’.”
The stranger sighs, perching himself on the edge of a wooden deskchair. “Heh, good thing they fell for my whole ‘control’ act, amirite?”
“Uh...sure?”
Not entirely sure what that means, but sure?
“Anyway, now that’s dealt with — you’re sure you’re not hurt? I thought this psycho place was bad enough already, but now they’re keeping kids here too?”
His dark brown eyes take on a furious expression. “Nem fodendo...no wonder he was so keen to investigate Pembrooke.”
He scowls, squaring his shoulders. “And no way am I letting a pair of innocent kids get hurt on my watch. Don’t worry, we’re gonna get you two outta here with us, okay?”
“Wait—us?”
“Yeah, I…actually came here for a friend of mine.”
Electric Guy grits his teeth. “He’s been missing for several months. No leads for ages until I found out about this place. He didn’t tell us where he was going or what he was doing, but yeah. I basically let them catch me so I could break him out from the inside. Bit of a Trojan Horse scenario.”
So that’s why he did all that.
“Do you know where he’s meant to be?”
“Should be on this floor — I think his file said Oak Ward or something, so that’s where we’re heading next.”
He hesitates, looking uneasy. “I just…hope he’s okay.”
“Hopefully he is.”
I send him a sympathetic look, wiping the dried blood from my chin. Although his words spark a little hope in my chest, I can’t ignore one glaringly obvious obstacle. “But even if we do find him…aren’t they also putting the whole building into lockdown right now?”
“That uh…is true,” he concedes, wincing, “Kinda didn’t think that far ahead — but don’t worry! We’ll find a way out. At least we have the means to fight back — especially you, buddy.”
He sends me a friendly smile. “That was a pretty impressive light show back there. When did you—”
“Yeah uh…about that.”
Krissy — who has been pretty much silent this whole time — finally speaks up. “Ash…how are you still glowing green?”
I awkwardly glance down at my hands. Emerald sparks continue to flicker across my palms, giving off a very obvious glow.
Oookay. How to word this without coming off as completely deluded?
“I-I know how it looks, Kris—”
“But you’re like—you’re literally glowing green!” he sputters clearly overwhelmed, “And don’t get me started with what happened back there! You just—how was that even possible?!”
“Y-yeah, I kinda freaked out the first time too,” I reassure him, wincing a little, “but I can explain. I know it’s insane, but I can explain.”
“O-okay,” Krissy stammers, still in shock, “I’m listening.”
I swallow, not quite sure how to actually explain it. Electric Guy gives me an encouraging nod.
“R-right,” I begin, bracing myself, “Basically uh...I’m a super.”
My companion just stares at me.
“...you’re a what?”
Great start, Ash.
“Y-yeah, superpowers exist,” I reply, knowing I must sound completely crazy right now, “and so do superheroes, apparently.”
Krissy remains quiet, blinking in disbelief at me.
“...you’re kidding me.”
“Nope, not kidding.”
Electric Guy suddenly speaks up again, leaning casually back in his chair. “And we’re definitely not the only ones. There are a tonne of different supers out there, each with their own supernatural abilities. Flight, destructive strength, energy manipulation, the most weird and wacky ability you could ever imagine — you name it. It probably exists.”
“But that’s just—that’s…no.”
Krissy responds with a weak laugh. “C-come on, really? Supernatural abilities? Energy manipulation? There’s no way that stuff really exists!”
He pauses when neither of us join in. “Uh...d-does it?”
Electric Guy chooses not to comment. I’m on my own with this one.
“I…guess so?” I answer, wincing, “I’m still very new to all of this too.”
“...oh-kay?”
Krissy takes a deep breath, still clearly shaken. “So…just to recap, you guys have these weird supernatural abilities like green fire and breaking electronics — and superpowers are totally a thing now?”
He stares back at me pleadingly, as if waiting for some other kind of explanation. Unfortunately, I don’t have another explanation to give.
“...pretty much?”
Krissy falls quiet for several moments, processing our revelation. I silently wince.
I guess this was how Dr Slade must have felt when he was trying to explain it to me.
“R-right. Sure. That makes…perfect sense.”
He shakes his head helplessly, looking rather…frazzled. “T-totally nothing crazy about any of this at all…”
“We’ll explain more later,” Electric Guy insists, realising this conversation isn’t helping, “but we don’t have the time now. Trust me, it’s a long story.”
“Y-you don’t say…”
Krissy licks his lips, attempting to absorb it all. “Fine. I’ll uh, try to save the list of questions for after we get outta here. Spoiler alert — it’s a long list.”
“Atta boy,” the super replies, sending Krissy a sympathetic look, “For now, just keep an open-mind, alright?”
“Sure, uh…whatever you say.”
He rubs his forehead, still looking completely overwhelmed. “S-sorry this is just…a lot.”
“No need to apologise, kid—wait, I never even got your names back there, did I?”
Our rescuer groans, slapping a hand against his face. “Brilliant job, Benji.”
Well, now we know his name at least.
“I’m Ashley,” I respond, almost automatically, “or...you can call me Ash.”
“Krissy — and uh…you’re Benji?”
“Yep,” he confirms with an enthusiastic nod, “Glad to meetcha. Sure, it would have been nicer under better circumstances, but beggars can’t be choosers.”
He gets up from the chair, stretching his arms. “And now that we all know each other we should probably get moving again. Don’t want any more unwanted company catching us up. Have you two had enough time to catch your breath?”
“We’ll be fine,” I answer, inhaling deeply again for good measure, “Kris?”
“Y-yeah, all good.”
“Good. Then let’s move out.”
Now wearing a confident grin, Electric Guy leads us back into the chaos with a raised fist. “Adiante!”
…yep, this is really happening.
Following Benji’s lead, we head back onto the main floor. Every twist and turn makes my head spin, but we have no choice but to keep going. Despite having only just met him, I can’t help but immediately feel safer with Benji guiding us. He holds us back, checks each direction and ushers us forward only when he’s one hundred percent certain that it's safe. He stands in the face of danger the whole time, ready to fight any guards that would dare to lay a finger on us. His calloused hands pull us back into the darkest corners every time we hear the warning footsteps. It’s through those combined strategies that we’re mostly able to avoid the attention of the other uniforms. Good thing too, because now even more of them are beginning to sweep across the floor.
“Geez, do they just infinitely spawn or something?” Krissy whispers, both of us partially squashed together against the wall.
“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Benji mutters, waiting for the current flock to pass, “Okay, stick to the walls for now. Once we’ve got my friend, we’ll be outta here for good.”
We hurry wordlessly behind him without a single protest. His long strides are a little difficult to keep up with, but we just about manage to stay on his tail.
“How big is this place?” I ask, trying to keep my panting to a minimum, “Is there much above this floor or—”
“One more floor, not including the rooftop,” he grunts, “I’ve seen worse, but still, three floors plus the ground floor is definitely enough to deal with right now—look out!”
He suddenly shoves us aside, away from the three guards now barrelling towards us. As the tell-tale sound of malfunctioning electronics sounds out around us, I try to use the green fire again to throw them off — with try being the key word.
“Hey, watch it!”
“S-sorry, Kris!”
Trying not to think about how close I had been to actually burning him, I instead turn my attention to the other goon. The green flames make an excellent distraction, even as I clumsily throw them around, trying to hit something.
Crap — gotta be more careful!
My aims are far-off target, but the light does blind our attackers enough to allow us to run past them. Unsurprisingly, Benji delivers a more…precise aim.
“Sir, they’re over by Oak Ward! The kids are—urk!”
The guard’s communicator flies through the air, landing some feet away on the ground. As Benji forcibly holds him back, Krissy and I do our bit by crushing it beneath our feet. The sound of crunching metal is oddly satisfying. The former device lies in a broken mess beneath our sock-clad soles, allowing Benji to deal with its owner.
“Nngh — and stay down, cretinos!”
He gives the goon a last kick to the side for good measure, before bending down to search his pockets. “Don’t forget to check ‘em. You never know what might come in handy.”
“O-okay!”
At Benji’s advice, the two of us hesitantly begin checking the guards’ stash. My own search comes up with an ID card, some plastic zip ties and a wrapped protein bar. I shove them in my own pockets before following Benji and Krissy down the next corridor. We take a different direction now, remaining vigilant the whole time. I ignore the burning in my chest as we continue moving. Somehow I can’t resist the temptation to look over my shoulder. The growing sound of other subjects’ screams brings fresh tears to my eyes. Our new companion curses under his breath, no doubt in his own native tongue.
That could be us at any moment—
“B-Benji, the others—”
“I know, but we can’t do anything for them if we don’t get out ourselves,” he grunts, “and the only way we’ll do that is if—wait.”
He suddenly stops us. I almost skid right into him before I manage to catch my balance against the wall. “There’s another one up ahead.”
Great. Just what we need.
“Do we all run at him?”
“Probably the best plan,” Benji mutters to Krissy, already bracing himself for attack, “Alright. Wait for it, wait for it…now!”
The three of us lunge forward at once. As the footsteps turn the corner, we all jump for him in unison.
“What the—bloody hell!”
I barely manage to stop myself in time. Unfortunately, the same can’t be said for Benji and Krissy. The former even manages to land a solid punch to the guy’s nose, sending the plain-shirted figure stumbling back into the corridor.
“Wait—Benji, wait!”
Thankfully he recognises his mistake when he sees the tell-tale patient uniform amongst the red.
“Oh! Oh geez, uh—sorry! I thought you were one of them—!”
“Do I look like one of those hooligans?” the man snaps, shaking his dark overgrown hair, “Whatever, just let me through so I can—Lightbug?!”
His attention suddenly shifts to me. All signs of annoyance vanish from his face.
“Dr Slade?!”
Without another word, my former neighbour sweeps right past the now open-mouthed Benji, stumbling towards me. Relief fills his eyes as he clutches my shoulders, gripping me in something resembling an awkward half-hug.
“Oh thank God! I thought I’d never see you again, lad! Are you—oh my God what has he done to you?”
He holds me at arm’s length for a moment, surveying my form. Growing anger creeps across his face. “That tube—Ash you’ve lost so much weight—”
“I-I’m fine,” I attempt to reassure him, taking in the…notable differences to his own appearance, “How did you—he said they’d transferred you or some—wait, are you hurt—”
“I’ll be arite. Just — nngh — not quite so fast at healing myself lately.”
The small smile on his face is clearly forced. Combined with the prominent dark shadows under his eyes, the emphasised pale complexion of his skin and the way he winces with every sharp intake of breath, he looks a mess. That’s not even taking into account the dark spatters on his clothes, a stark contrast from the white of the shirt that hangs off him like a tent.
“You know this guy?”
Benji peers at me over his shoulder, quietly observing our reunion.
“Y-yeah, he was my former neighbour on Poplar Ward. We tried to escape a while ago, but we…didn’t make it.”
Trying not to shudder at the memory, I gesture towards my other two companions. “Dr Slade, this is Krissy and Benji. He’s a super too, breaks electronics. He caused this whole powercut and saved us from a group of guards earlier and now we’re—”
“I see. Well, it’s always good to meet another super. The more the merrier as they say.”
“Y-yeah, you too, Doc,” Benji replies, still looking…pretty awkward about the earlier mishap, “Hey, uh, did you just come from Oak Ward?”
“Aye, that we did,” the doctor answers, dusting off his pants, “Why do you—”
“Any chance that you’ve seen my buddy around? They were holding him there too, his name’s—”
“Dougie!”
A familiar voice calls out from behind Dr Slade. My head jerks in its direction.
Wait—I thought Dr Voss dismissed him?!
Apparently not, because sure enough he comes jogging around the corner. Even though I know it’s him, he also looks…different. Most obvious is the fact that his former apprentice garb has now been replaced with the same uniform that Dr Slade and I are wearing, grippy socks included. His hair still remains in its signature ponytail, although now in a much more dishevelled state, with multiple stray strands out of place. Dark rings outline his own equally tired eyes, whilst the dry tracks on his cheeks betray his true feelings. Even his voice seems to have lost some of its usual brightness.
“Dex!”
It takes me a few seconds to realise I’m not the only one crying out his name.
“Ash! I’m so glad you’re—Benji?!”
Before I can turn around, Benji is already striding past us, pushing towards the former apprentice, whose eyes are now wide and alert.
“D-damn you, Dex — you scared us to death!”
The electric-breaking super throws his arms around the blonde’s shoulders, hugging him close.I notice him trembling a little as he clings to him, breathing heavily.
“Benji…h-hey buddy,” he murmurs, desperately trying to keep his voice level, “God it’s so good to see you—w-wait, what are you doing here?”
“Uh, I could ask you the same question—”
“Hold on—you two know each other?”
Benji’s attention momentarily shifts towards us at Krissy’s disbelieving question, a sigh escaping his lips. I put the pieces together pretty quickly.
So this is who Benji was talking about!
“Uhuh,” Benji replies, “Dex is an old friend, who also has a tendency of getting himself into trouble — and speaking of trouble, what the heck were you thinking?!”
The dark haired man pushes Dex away slightly, frustration entering his voice. His friend swallows.
“I-I can explain—”
“You’d better! Running off to do a solo mission on your own without telling any of us where you were going?! Just up and disappearing for several months?! We’ve been worried sick! You left us no leads and if you’d actually told us where you were going, then we might have been able to find you a lot sooner, dumbass!”
It’s impossible to ignore Benji’s…valid venting right now. Dex just sighs in exasperation.
“Look at us! This is exactly why I didn’t tell you, Benji!” the blonde retaliates, gritting his teeth tightly, “It was too dangerous. Pembrooke does not mess around! I wasn’t gonna let them go after you guys too! Besides, I had it all under control—”
“Uhuh — which is why you’re wearing one of those stupid uniforms right now?”
Dex shuts up at Benji’s obvious statement, gritting his teeth.
“Like you’re one to talk, since you’re also wearing one—”
“Only because I let myself get caught so I could break your idiot butt outta here!” Benji shoots back,
“That’s not an invitation for you to throw yourself into the danger zone too, Benji!”
“You know me, Dex. Always disobeying orders.”
“I’m serious! These guys are—!”
“Sorry to interrupt, but now is really not the time.”
Thankfully Dr Slade has enough sense to step in. “You lads can talk more about it once we’re safe. Until then, we drop all disagreements and work together, arite?”
Wow. Dr Slade actually suggested something that doesn’t sound completely crazy for once.
“...sure thing, Dougie.”
“And please stop calling me that,” the doctor sighs, pinching his nose, “Arite. What’s our next move?”
“Um, probably getting out of here?” Krissy answers, wincing.
“Exactly—”
“But with the whole place in lockdown, then what options do we have?”
“He’s right,” Benji adds, backing me up, “All the main routes outta here are bound to be surrounded on both sides.”
Krissy’s face pales.
“So...does that mean we’re just stuck here until they—”
“Not quite, lad.”
The older doctor fixes us with a firm expression. “It’s risky, but there is one way out that we haven’t considered yet.”
“R-really?”
“Aye — and if we can’t get out through the usual way, then our only other option is through the—Jesus!”
A sudden high pitched sound rips across the corridor. All of us cover our ears, wincing. The red pulsing glow ebbs away. Every light flickers back to its usual shade. Our isolated forms are bathed in spotlights — and very visible.
“The lights—!”
“Mother’s son,” Dr Slade curses, “they must have gotten the backup generator running!”
“Droga,” Benji hisses, casting a quick glance over his shoulder, “You know where we’re going, Doc?”
“I do, but—”
“Definitely not that way — unless you want inside experience of the procedure labs, which I would not recommend,” Dex adds, shuddering, “I-I don’t know about you guys, but I happen to be pretty attached to my organs.”
My insides churn at his implication — and especially the sound of more approaching footsteps. Shaking his head, the former apprentice grits his teeth, forcing confidence into his voice. “O-okay, lead the way, Doug—Doc.”
He aims that last part at Krissy and I. The two of us share a wary glance, before quickly nodding in agreement. Just like that, our mind is made up. We’re actually doing this — escaping.
No turning back now.
Oh wow...I am SUPER late with this! (pun not intended, haha!)
Sorry I've been procrastinating so unnecessarily hard on uploading here. March was full of birthdays and portfolio work and preparing for my new medical rotation so it's been pretty busy, but progress is ongoing. Apologies for taking so long for those following and thank you so much for your patience!
And so the escape continues! And the party finally comes together! Definitely had fun writing this one and hopefully I'll get back to my usual upload schedule soon. No promises, but I'll try to be consistent! :D
Wishing everyone a really great week ahead, best wishes and see you in the next chapter! :D Thank you so much for sticking around! xx
Tag List (by popular demand!) @whumpsmith @illustriousshadow @melpomenelamusa @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are
Character Ownership!
Dr Slade and General Clancy belong to the amazing @whumpsmith
Dr Simmons is the baby of the amazing @/distressed_mess on Deviantart!
And last of all, Benji is the child of the awesome @/sushi4427 on deviantart!
Lights shimmer above my head, twinkling like little stars
Jargon-filled orders fill the air.
Then the usual sounds start to drown them out
Humming. Schlurping.
Thunking. Whirring.
Beep beep beep beep
Another fresh wave of agony.
It hurts.
Everything hurts.
Beep beep beep beep
“Turn it down — keep going —”
Beep beep beep beep
I bite down even harder, sobbing
My teeth grind against the sterile silicone bar
My face is drenched by sweat and tears
I can taste the salt from them against my tongue
Thrashing is useless. Struggling won’t work
Fighting is impossible.
Beep beep beep beep
I beg them to stop.
I wail. I shriek.
I make sounds I never knew were possible.
They don’t listen. They never listen.
Just like always.
Beep beep beep beep
“Vitals — borderline — careful.”
Beep beep beep beep
I come here all the time now
I know how this plays out
I know what comes next
And I can do nothing to stop it
Beep beep beep beep
“Initiating — phase three —”
Beep beep beep beep
Nothing
…except wait to wake up.
...
I get them almost every night now.
It's always the same one -- the table and the aliens, the green light and the agony. I always wake in a cold panicked sweat, sobbing aloud to the four walls until I’ve finally cried myself back to sleep. Nothing makes it go away. Nothing makes it better. The only way through is to endure it.
Every last horrifying second of it.
The meds still don’t help. He alters the doses on a regular basis. Just when I’m finally getting used to one thing, he suddenly switches it for another. Something about an ‘optimal therapeutic effect’, or whatever. I guess I’m just super unlucky when it comes to side effects. Nausea is another big one, not that my new ‘feeding plan’ really helps. I have no idea how long that stupid tube has been in, but all I know is that they have no intention of removing it anytime soon. I’ve been fully out of the restraints for a while now, but I know better than to try and tug it out. They’ll just shove another one straight back in if I do, for my own good.
And I really don’t want to go through that again.
Unsurprisingly, my movements remain restricted and under close supervision. The daily routine is now a monotonous slog. There’s nothing to look forward to anymore. Just the same old actions and events, every single day — going through the motions just to exist — for however long it’s actually been. I couldn’t even try to make a guess about how many days that might be. I don’t know how much time has passed.
...I just know that I want it to end.
Bang bang bang
“Five more minutes!”
I don’t even bother wasting my breath to reply to the nurse. Instead, I hug my knees even tighter against my chest. I sit on the cubicle floor, rocking a little under the shower head. It gently rains down on me, soaking my body in sweet streams of cool water. I just let it run over, staring down at my blurred surroundings. The sponge remains untouched, the shampoo unopened. I just don’t care anymore. I can’t muster the energy for it — even for a task as mundane as washing my hair. It’s just impossible lately.
Not like it even matters.
Slow silent tears mix with the running water, as well as the faint trickles of red down my arms. Any traces of my actions soon disappear down the plug hole. The bleeding will stop quickly. It usually does. Again, it’s one of the only things I can control — when I stop, or how far I go. It’s all on my own terms. I’ve used it a fair bit in the past to deal with overwhelming emotions. Now it serves another purpose — to help me actually feel something through the growing numbness that is steadily taking over me. It’s not much and I know it’s hardly a healthy coping strategy, but for just those few moments…I’m in control.
And no one can take that away from me.
My soaked strands continue to stick to the back of my neck. The tips of it brush past my chin, messy and overgrown. I don’t think my hair has ever been this long before. The steam soothes my raw throat, as well as the lingering marks on my body. I’ve noticed a lot more of them lately. They’re taking longer to fade too. I don’t know where they come from. I’m too tired to question it. I just…accept it.
I accept everything.
My days of screaming and fighting are way over. Whatever I do to resist, it will only backfire. I’ll just stay here even longer. I’ll never get better. I’ll never get to leave. But if I’m a good boy, follow my doctor’s orders and comply with my treatment plan, then I might stand a chance. Really, it’s just going along with the motions, just to stay alive.
And honestly...I don’t know how much more of it I can take.
Bang bang bang
I almost miss Tall Guy’s second round of banging on the door. Still, I can’t bring myself to move right away. I have to psyche myself up for every deliberate movement.
Time to get out, Ash.
I drag it out, staggering to my feet and sliding the door open. I don’t even turn off the water properly. My hands grope for the usual rough towel, running it mindlessly over my body to dry myself. It takes a lot of effort for just that one small action.
Time to get dressed, Ash.
I follow each mental instruction in a clunky automated manner. I silently pull on my underwear, followed by my white uniform. I’ve only just finished with my grippy socks when Tall Guy throws the door open. I don’t utter a word as I stumble over to my bed. As always, my ‘breakfast’ tray is waiting for me.
Time to eat ‘breakfast’, Ash.
I accept it all in silence. Even when Jerkface administers my high-protein feed down the tube through a special syringe, I barely make a sound. There’s a smaller bowl of nutrient mush to accompany it, which I also manage to force down in deliberate careful bites. Taking it slow means I’m less likely to throw it all up afterwards. They wouldn’t want that.
Beep
I don’t even need to look to know it’s him.
Clack clack clack
“Good morning, Ashley.”
I don’t respond. My attention remains fixated on the creased patterns on my bed sheets. They almost look like they’re moving. “How are you feeling today?”
Again, I can’t bring myself to answer him. That doesn’t deter his optimistic approach. “I see that you’ve managed to eat all of your breakfast again. That’s very good, my boy. You’re certainly making a lot of progress this week, don’t you think?”
“Just get it over with, Dr Voss.”
Without even raising my head, I continue in my quiet detached tone. “Whatever you want from me...just get it done.”
That quickly kills the optimism.
“Of course. We’ll make things as quick as we can.”
Still avoiding his gaze, I hear him addressing the nurses, struggling to process his command. “Bring him down to Imaging. We’ll meet you down there in ten minutes.”
Without another word, he exits the room. The brief silence is interrupted by a familiar squeaking of wheels against the floor.
“Come on, kid. Up you get.”
Tall Guy’s elbow in my side is eventually enough to get me moving. Slow shuffling along the ground, I drag myself towards the chair and drop down into it. I don’t offer up any protest as they wheel me out of the ward.
I just close my eyes and wait for it to be over.
Bzz bzz bzz — Beep beep beep
...I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve been through this scanner. Before, I used to panic. Now, I'm just impassive to it. Keeping my eyes shut, I simply lie there, completely still. The straps keep my body firmly pinned against the bed, preventing even the smallest movements. They needn’t bother about that anymore though. It’s pointless trying to fight it.
“Scanning complete. Bringing the patient out now.”
I respond with a small sigh of relief, unmoving as the bed slowly rolls out of the tunnel. Multiple hands soon descend on me, fiddling with the buckles keeping me strapped down. I reluctantly open my eyes. The excessively bright lights of the scanner room burn into my pupils.
“All done, Ashley.”
The soothing sounds of Vivaldi soon fade away. “Are you feeling alright?”
My only response is a tired groan. “I know they are uncomfortable, but these regular scans are a key investigation for monitoring purposes, including how your body responds to the different treatments.”
...whatever you say, Dr Voss.
“Here, let me help you to sit up.”
With a supportive hand on my back, he guides me up into a sitting position. The room spins a little around me. I shuffle towards the edge of the bed, letting my legs dangle off the edge. “Take some time to recover. I’ll have a look at our preliminary images in the meantime."
Even in my current foggy state, I can still pick out the familiar floating holograms showing detailed images of my body. As it turns out, he’s not the only one interested in them. Today he’s got an audience with him, including a few other eager-eyed doctors, judging from their white coats. There’s not really a lot I can do as Dr Voss quietly discusses the scan findings with the huddled group. I merely sit there, practically ignored as they fixate on my scan images. Strings of complex words that I can barely pronounce are exchanged in quick succession between them. It’s very difficult to keep track of it all.
I’m too exhausted to even try.
“—and over here, we can clearly see the greatest level of cellular metabolic activity, which is consistent with his previous imaging. Now, when comparing that to his previous scans here, we can see an obviously positive trend in cellular activity with further progression of the patient’s treatment plan.”
I watch blearily as he zooms further in on the pixelated glow in the centre of my current hologram. “To summarise, our patient’s current treatment plan is progressing very well and I highly anticipate a promising outcome.”
The other white coats nod along, humming thoughtfully.
“Very impressive, Dr Voss,” one of them comments, his unnaturally bushy eyebrows rising with curiosity, “although I’d be very interested in seeing how these images compare to the ones from A.9.R. Do we have those on record?”
“We have the most up-to-date ones logged on the system, although A.9.R is overdue for some follow-up imaging himself. However, based on all of the findings so far, I am confident we will be able to meet the—”
“What are you even hoping to find?”
My voice is audible, but hollow. Either way, it’s enough to get Dr Voss’s attention.
“What do you mean by that, Ashley?”
I clench my fists by my sides, staring hopelessly at the ceiling.
“...I don’t see how this is actually supposed to change anything,” I add tiredly, “I don't even know how long we've been at it. Weeks? Months? More than that?"
Perhaps he can’t hear me, or he just doesn’t want to answer. However, he doesn’t ignore me entirely, even abandoning the holograms to approach me.
“I know it may not feel like it, but we are making remarkable progress. Here, let me show you.”
Taking my hand, he guides me over to the others to get a better look at the holograms, gesturing to them each in turn. “This image on the right is from today’s scan. Basically, the way it works is that the MET-3000 — short for Molecular Enhancement Tomography — allows us to identify various molecules and proteins within the human body, including areas of high cellular activity.”
He gestures to my arm. “The first contrast tracer we injected into you contains a special engineered tag that is made to bind to a specific protein in the body, depending on what we want to search for exactly. The second tracer — which acts much faster — then reacts with the first one and emits a fluorescent neon glow, which is picked up by the sensors inside the scanner from different viewpoints to produce the three-dimensional images that we can see here. Basically, the brighter the glow, then the more of that protein there is in that particular area.”
Even when deliberately toned down for my understanding, it’s still hard to keep up with his scientific prattling. Somehow I manage to keep my eyes open through it all, especially as he starts scrolling through the scans on the screen. The projected images change in complete sync with his actions, right before my eyes, offering different viewpoints and angles. “In your case, we are trying to detect the amount of a specific protein — known as E-572 globulin — that is produced as a result of your treatment. Now, do you see these spots here that are much brighter than the surrounding tissue?”
Said spots dance before my eyes. They stand out like neon beacons amongst the greyer pixels hovering in front of me. “They show us the areas where there are the greatest number of those proteins. To be seeing such a high-output, it gives us clear evidence that the treatment is working. Compared to the scan on the left, your latest one is much brighter. All of that shows that we are getting there.”
I silently stare at him. It’s hard to process his enthusiastic response.
“...I don’t feel like we are, Dr Voss.”
“I can understand why you might feel that way” he replies empathetically, “but I told you — I will not give up, Ashley. I just know that we have the potential to really make a difference here — and I’m confident that with just a little more time, we will see those results.”
“...really?”
“Yes, really. We do still have a bit to go through, but this is good, my boy. These images are all very reassuring that we are going in the right direction to—”
“If I may interrupt, Dr Voss?”
I’d almost forgotten about the other white coats. With a sigh, Dr Voss turns towards the guy standing next to Eyebrows. The man towers above him like a beanpole, wearing a somewhat sceptical glance.
“By all means, Dr Williams. Is there a problem with my proposed management?”
“I just have one question: why aren’t we using C.E.E.P as part of the management? We’ve had stellar results with it from the other one.”
What other one? Another patient?
“Indeed. The numbers have exponentially increased beyond our projected targets ever since we—”
“I appreciate that, Dr Matthews, but it carries too many risks in this case,” Dr Voss interrupts, frowning slightly, “Besides, it would require additional expert involvement to ensure the procedure is optimally carried out. I simply do not have the time for that right now.”
“But you have the resources, Dr Voss,” Beanpole interjects, “and they’ve been a great help in A.9.R’s case.”
“I agree that they have, but his case is different. In Ashley’s case, I strongly feel that this measure would not be…appropriate for his present condition. The current treatment is already working well enough and we are seeing some clearly positive results. Is that not enough?”
Beanpole and Eyebrows share a glance with each other. Their other colleague — a woman with firm steely features — clears her throat. I find myself stiffening at her intimidating air.
“We’ve taken the liberty of looking at the numbers in advance, Viktor,” she begins officially, “As they stand, your current results are just about good enough, but C.E.E.P is ultimately the superior option.”
He remains indifferent to her words. “Continue as you are for now, but if there is still no significant improvement by the end of the month, then you will re-think your current management strategy. Understood?”
“...understood Dr Whitall. Thank you for your…insight.”
He grits his teeth, turning back towards me. I don’t know why, but for some reason he looks a little uneasy. It’s only just occurring to me that these white coats are probably his seniors or something. I have no idea whether that’s a good or bad thing for me.
And what is this…C.E.E.P stuff?
“Anyway, my point is that you are continuing to make good progress, Ashley. You have nothing to worry about.”
He offers me a sympathetic smile before calling the nurses. “Rick, please take him back to his room. Let me know if there are any concerns.”
As Tall Guy approaches me with a familiar wheelchair, Dr Voss addresses his seniors once more. “Now then, if you will follow me to my office, I can show you the other updated progress reports.”
“If it’s not too much trouble,” the woman replies, “We appreciate our visit was done on short notice, but the board likes to be kept well informed about overall progress, especially if we’re not producing the expected outcomes.”
She folds her arms across her chest. “Speaking of that, we have noticed that you seem to be spending a disproportionate amount of time on the H-42 subgroup. It would be much more beneficial to ensure your attention is equally spread among your projects, Viktor. You don’t want to be getting distracted now, do you?”
“No, ma’am,” he answers stiffly, “Of course not. Rest assured, I will deliver on those promised outcomes.”
“I hope so, Dr Voss.”
Before I have time to hear the rest, Tall Guy is already wheeling me back to my room.
Back to my miserable reality.
Beep
“Come on, kiddo. Time to stretch those legs a bit.”
I completely ignore Jerkface as he waits for me beside my door. It’s very easy to act as if he isn’t even there. Tuning him out, I bury my face deeper into Nezzy’s fur. I’m probably suffocating that poor squirrel to death against my chest.
What’s the point in ‘stretching my legs’? To see the ‘rivetting’ sights of Pine Ward?
“Look, you’ve already declined the last three days. You need to get some exercise in. Don’t you at least want a break from these four walls?”
To just be replaced with more walls? …no thanks.
I curl in on myself even tighter. My body is a tense ball on my bed, knees pulled into my chest as far as possible. The bedsheets lie sprawled in an unmade mess around me. My book has gotten lost somewhere in the pile, discarded after failing to read even one page. Animated chirping sounds from the small TV, at least giving me a break from the silence. Jerkface’s exasperated sigh soon accompanies it.
“...fine. I’ll go and get the doc if you’re gonna be difficult.”
The door slams harshly behind me. My fingers begin pulling at Nezzy’s fur, crushing her tightly in my arms for some form of comfort. Her damp fur tickles my pale cheeks, almost as much as my tousled strands. I haven’t even bothered to brush my hair today.
Again, what’s the point?
Even with all of his reassurances that I am getting better, I refuse to believe it. If anything, I’m just getting worse. My mood. My energy. My motivation to give myself even the most basic personal care. There’s just nothing there anymore. I am a hollow shell with no purpose and no obvious future. That is my truth. That is my reality.
No escape from that.
Beep
“See? He’s just lying there, doesn’t want to do any—”
“Thank you, Daniel. I’ll take it from here.”
My bloodshot eyes are the only thing peeping out from the safety of the plushie’s fur. I soon recognise Dr Voss standing across from me, observing me. Silently, he walks over to my bed and crouches down to my level.
“Ashley…you know this isn’t good for you, don’t you?”
I answer with a wordless shrug of my shoulders. His eyes have a mild sheen to them as he takes me in. After several long seconds of awkward silence, he tries to address me again. “Why don’t we both take a short walk around the ward together? Just a few minutes, that’s all. I promise you’ll feel a whole lot better for it.”
He gently offers me his hand. I study his glazed form for a while, not a hint of impatience on his face. Then, I timidly lift my own hand and accept his.
…fine.
With a bit of effort on both our parts, we finally manage to get me on my feet. My balance is still far off my baseline. I try to avoid wobbling on my legs too much, weakened from the prolonged periods of inactivity — mostly my own fault. He makes sure I’m safe with every step, supporting me with a hand on my back. Together, we make it out of my room and out into the all-too-familiar corridors of Pine Ward. The splashes of pale green on the walls always look uncomfortably bright after being in my near colourless room for so long. Vivid collages decorate one of the main walls, resembling a mix of different leaves and flowers. The lounge area is always empty, with a cold abandoned feel amongst the leather couch and dark green beanbags. Given its higher security status, we don’t have a canteen or Rec Area up here. Certain privileges have to be earned to access those.
“Green really is a soothing colour, isn’t it?”
Dr Voss wastes no time with the small talk, glancing around the area with a small smile. “The way that it reminds us of nature, or depicts wellness and healing. I find it quite beautiful.”
“Mmm.”
I can’t muster any sort of enthusiasm. It doesn’t exactly deter him from our mostly one-sided conversation.
“I know you do as well. Even now I still remember how much time you’d spend in that sensory garden. You used to enjoy it so much.”
“Mhm.”
“...it’s hard to see you this way, Ashley.”
I keep my gaze on the ground, only partially leaning against him as we shuffle along the corridor. “You’ve been so withdrawn lately. I would have thought our chat about your progress last week might have reassured you a bit, but...clearly not.”
I can hear the concern in his voice. “Is there something specific on your mind lately? Anything that’s troubling you in particular? We can talk about it if you want.”
I purposefully don’t answer, not quite ready to talk yet. Noticing that, he just sighs in acceptance. “Or we can just…walk together in silence if you’d prefer that.”
I would.
Thankfully, he doesn’t push me. It doesn’t make the silence between us any less awkward as we complete a whole lap of the ward. I manage to hold my silence most of the way, simply putting one foot in front of the other whilst being guided by my doctor the whole way. Eventually…I break the silence with a pathetic mumble.
“...there’s no point.”
Those three words immediately get his attention.
“No point to what, my boy?” he enquires quietly.
“...anything.”
It’s the first time I actually meet his eyes all day. Weakly raising my head, I give my shoulders a faint shrug. “Even if I am getting better, so what? There’s nothing out there for me anymore.”
His features soften slightly.
“Ashley, you know that’s not true—”
“But it is,” I insist, “My friends are all gone. I’m behind in all my classes. Even my family doesn’t care about me — what’s the point in trying? What is there to keep living for? I don’t see the point. I might as well just…give up.”
“But that’s not—”
“I can’t do it anymore.”
I inhale shakily, squeezing my eyes shut. Dr Voss stares back at me. A troubled expression crosses his face.
“Ashley, you can do it—”
“But why should I have to keep on doing it?” I argue, ignoring the stinging in my eyes, “Treatments, tests, even more friggin’ tests—”
“What are you saying?”
I don’t answer him, fighting the warning sting behind my eyelids. “Ashley, talk to me. Please.”
“...I-I’m sorry.”
My apology comes out as a pitiful sound. Suppressed emotions begin to bubble inside my chest. They threaten to spill over. I force them back as best I can. “I can’t…I–I just…c-can’t…”
The first sob leaves my throat before I can stop it. My hands automatically move to my mouth, clamping over it to muffle the betraying noise. Even in the midst of my shame, Dr Voss just peers back at me. A helpless look flickers across his gaze.
“...I know.”
Lowering himself to my height, I feel his hands brushing against my shoulders. His voice takes on a surprisingly hushed tone, one that ripples with care. “I know how hard this has all been for you. Trust me, I really do — but you are far stronger than you think, Ashley.”
I hopelessly meet his gaze as he deliberately continues. “Look at everything you have been through since you got here. Everything we have accomplished — none of it would have been possible without your sacrifice. Yes there have been some setbacks, but that is natural. As I said, every journey is different.”
I sniffle, conflicted.
“...I really don’t know what to believe anymore.”
“But deep down, I think you do,” he reassures, “Let’s try it now. Tell me the first thing you can think of — Fact-or-fiction?”
…it’s been forever since we played this game.
I bite my lower lip, reaching into the foggy recess of my mind.
“...you’re still trying to help me — fact.”
I swallow hard, the words awkwardly leaving my lips. “This is all for my own good…f-fact.”
Keep going.
“Everything will be fine…I…I–I don’t know.”
“You do, Ashley,” he reminds me gently, “it’s fact — because it will be fine. Even if your family isn't willing to support you, you don’t need them anymore. I’ll be right here with you — and by continuing to work together, we can get you where you need to be.”
“...we…can?” I breathe.
“Of course we can.”
I sniffle faintly. Slowly but surely, his words are having the desired effect. “You have been so brave and I am very proud of you, Ashley — so all I ask is that you keep on being brave for me, just for a bit longer, alright?”
For a moment, he’s right there. Right in front of me. Dark brown hair. Gentle face. Wide smile.
Dad…
It’s as if I’m nine years old again.
“I-I can be brave,” I whisper.
He smiles at me — a smile that is actually reflected in his eyes.
“That’s my boy.”
Somewhere inside of me, it’s as if a trigger has been pulled. The tears begin brimming in my eyes before I can stop them.
“I…I-I…”
A choked gasp leaves my throat. My shoulders tremble. The barriers are starting to break. I try to fight it, to keep it all in—
No, no. Don’t you dare, Ash. Keep it in—
“Let it out, Ashley.”
I suddenly feel his arms…wrapping around my shoulders, pulling me closer. My body instinctively freezes for a second, attempting to process his…gesture.
He’s…hugging me?
“It’s alright. You’re safe. I’m here with you.”
The scent of earl-grey lingers on his breath as he holds me. I feel his hand rubbing small soothing circles into my back, silently holding me. It’s that display of physical contact — that single sign of affection, after being starved of it so long — that finally breaks me.
“Shhh, that’s it. It’s alright.”
My heart-wrenching cries are muffled by his shirt as I lean fully into his embrace, desperate for comfort. I don’t even care what a mess I must look like, ugly tears and snot running down my face. They don’t stop. They won’t stop. I have no control over them. All I can do is let them fall. The whole time he holds me against him, not once judging my broken bawling.
“Just let it out. Don’t hold it back.”
His fingers gently pat my unwashed strands. “This is good. You need this…”
I don’t hold back, letting it all out, completely vulnerable now. A part of me whispers that this is wrong on so many levels, that I should be disgusted at myself — but I need this right now.
It feels…so nice…
His grip on me gradually tightens, continuing to soothe me with verbal and physical gestures as I continue to cry myself dry. Other than a few reassuring murmurs, he stays quiet, continuing to provide the very physical contact I’ve been craving for so long until the sobs finally die down.
“Nngh…n-nnn…”
“Shh, it’s alright. This is normal. This is perfectly normal.”
I press against him even more, the damp fibres of his jumper tickling my cheek.
“I thought…y-you weren’t allowed to…to do this?”
“I won’t tell if you won’t,” he reassures me quietly, “This will be our little secret.”
“Th-thanks…”
Sniffling, I glance up at his blurred form as he gives me another squeeze.
“There. Doesn’t that feel better?”
“M-mhm…”
“Good. It will all be worth it in the end, Ashley. I promise.”
With a sympathetic look, he slowly withdraws from the embrace. I shakily reach up to wipe at my face, drawing in another breath to calm down.
“I-I’m sorry I ever doubted you,” I whisper pathetically.
“It’s quite alright, my boy. I just want to do what I can to help you, but…sometimes we have to be cruel to be kind. It hurts, but it is necessary.”
He carefully tilts my chin, making sure our eyes meet. “But I think we’re finally past that phase now. You have demonstrated excellent insight and for that…I think I can finally reduce your risk level.”
I feel my eyes widening hopefully.
“For…real…?”
“Yes. In fact, I don’t see any reason why you can’t move back to your old room.”
Back to…Poplar Ward?
I suck in a breath.
“Can I go outside again too?” I almost whisper “Please?”
“One step at a time, my boy.”
He gently releases my chin. “However, I will instruct the nurses to allow you to visit the Rec Area until we’ve sorted out your relocation. That should give you a nice change of scenery.”
It really would…
“O-okay,” I agree, sniffing.
“Good boy.”
He smiles back at me. “Now then, let’s head back to your room. We need to start arranging your transfer, don’t we?”
For the first time since my relocation, I finally feel a faint spark of…something in my chest. Something I haven’t felt in so long.
Hope.
“...yes, Dr Voss.”
This place feels...different now.
That former sense of peace that I had always felt here…is now nowhere to be found. Instead, it feels surreal. The refreshingly cool breeze blowing my overgrown strands about. The sweet sound of bird-song filling the surrounding space — even those little things are surprisingly overwhelming now. It’s been quite an adjustment moving back to Poplar Ward. My period of isolation is now over. I’m allowed to do things again — and that alone gives me a little extra hope. After my talk with Dr Voss, I know this is all good. It’s a step in the right direction, towards my recovery.
But it definitely isn’t easy.
Just that small amount of stimulation is enough to drain my limited energy. Despite that, I try to see the positives. I try as hard as I can to go through them all in my head. The beautiful colours, the tranquil sounds, the feeling of being surrounded by nature again and the fact that I should be grateful for such privileges.
And I’ve missed this — so much.
I’m almost entirely convinced that I’m actually outside. That those are birds that I’m hearing. That there really is a wind rustling through the blades of grass. I can’t help but run my hands over them, feeling their stimulating prickles against my palms. I even allow myself the tiniest tired smile.
This is good. Everything’s good. Everything will be fine.
Taking a few calming breaths, I finally glance up from the ground, taking in my other surroundings. A few other white and grey shirts are scattered around the room, mostly minding their own business or huddling amongst the bushes. All of them look just as exhausted as I feel. Dozens of twinkling lights shine all around us, softly illuminating the whole garden.
Stars…
Craning my neck back, I take every one of them in. It feels like…forever since I last saw them. I stare into the sky, as if waiting for one of them to start shooting across the heavens. Sitting here on the grass, watching and waiting for just one shooting star to make a wish — it’s just like the last time I waited for one, before all of this.
Back with my friends.
“How much longer do we have to waaait?”
I roll my eyes as my purple-haired roommate flops dramatically back on the grass next to me, groaning loudly. The skies above are crystal clear, giving us a stunning scene of the night sky. Stars — so many stars — distantly shimmer around us, scattered across the inky darkness as far as the eye can see. None of them look like shooting stars though.
“Cut the dramatics, Joe. It’s only been twenty minutes.”
“Uhuh — and all we’ve managed to spot is one damn helicopter. Nice.”
Sam’s sarcastic drawl isn’t lost on us. The short redhead flicks his bangs back out of his face with a tired scowl.
“Hey, who’s to say that was a helicopter?”
Alex props himself up on his elbows, shooting us an eager grin. “Maybe it was actually an alien spacecraft~”
“Ooh so spooky,” Sam deadpans resting his hands behind his head, “Maybe they’re finally coming to take over the world and run a bunch of creepy experiments on us.”
“W-wait—they are?!”
Cody’s frightened gasp elicits a deadpan expression from our resident jerk.
“...no, because aliens don’t exist, dumbass.”
The younger teen averts his gaze, tugging a little on his lucky cap.
“Umm—”
“Actually, there have been dozens of accounts of alien abductions throughout history,” Alex retorts, fidget spinner in hand, “I mean, if you read about it online—”
“Yeah, I’ll pass on the sci-fi bullcrap, thanks,” Sam interrupts coolly, “Anyway, this whole thing better be worth it. I’m freezing my ass off out here!”
“Newsflash: we all are — except we’re not the ones whining about it.”
Sighing, Levi glances towards us, noticing Cody’s shivers against the cold. “But there is a cold wind tonight. Here, everyone shuffle up. Plenty of room under here — Sam, that includes you.”
Joe smirks, wasting no time in making himself comfortable along with the rest of us beneath Levi’s giant fuzzy blanket. With a grumble, Sam shuffles over too, brushing shoulders with Alex as we all tug the blanket tighter around ourselves.
“Fine — but only because I’ve waited for these damn ‘shooting stars’ this long already.”
“Oh stop being such an impatient…patient!”
A snort escapes my lips at Cody’s pun, joined by a few amused sniggers from the rest of our group. Meanwhile Joe throws an arm around mine and Alex’s shoulders, grinning.
“Heh, look at us. We’re like a giant bro burrito~”
“Trust you to liken us to—wait, there!”
I point towards the sky. Their heads immediately jerk upwards.
“Ah—there it is!”
Several flashes of light shoot through the darkness, firing in almost graceful succession.
Collective awed murmurs ripple amongst us as the cosmic event plays out before our eyes. My own eyes grow a little wider, taking all of it in with a sense of amazement.
“Whoaaa…”
“About time,” Sam mutters, although the expression of wonder in his own eyes isn’t lost on us.
“Wooow,” Cody breathes, taking in every precious second, “They’re—they’re actual shooting stars!”
“And so many of them,” I whisper, watching as they all streak across the heavens, vanishing in mere moments.
“Quick! Make a wish before they’re all gone!”
Alex doesn’t need to tell us twice. All of us close our eyes, silently broadcasting our wishes out to the universe to hear. I make sure to make my own brief, not wanting to miss a second of the magnificent display in front of us. Another minute or so passes in silent wonder, until finally, the last meteor disappears and the sky falls still. Only the stars remain, each one shining even more brightly than before.
“So~?”
A small nudge to my side startles me. Joe’s gleaming eyes peer right into mine, smiling playfully “What did you guys wish for?”
“You do know that telling means it won’t come true, right?” I check with a helpless laugh.
“Telling-schmelling,” Joe smirks with a dismissive flick of his wrist, “Come on, spill it, Ash-Tree! What was your wish~?”
“Honestly…just for more moments like this one,” I reply fondly, “All of us — here, happy, not burdened by our problems. Just us, as we are. Together.”
The others peer back at me, contemplating my wish. One by one, smiles of agreement are reflected on all of their faces.
“I like that wish.”
Cody’s blue eyes sparkle in the light of our shared flashlight. My newfound friends all nod eagerly, none more than Alex.
“Me too! We gotta make that come true somehow!”
I feel myself almost beaming in response. Finally…I’ve found a sense of actual belonging. Acceptance, friendship, purpose — this is everything I need right now.
“And we will bro,” Levi promises, wrapping his arm caringly around my shoulders, “We will.”
The stars soon begin to blur in front of me, being swallowed up by the dark.
I really miss them.
I blink them back into focus, taking a deep breath to compose myself. When I next look, the scene has completely changed, now resembling a lighter rolling meadow with beaming shafts of sunlight streaming around the area. The stars are gone — and so are my friends.
...I guess we’ll never make that wish come true now, I think to myself hopelessly, if wishes even do come true any—
“Ash?”
My eyes snap open at the familiar voice. A pair of almond brown eyes blink across at me, taking me in. Bit by bit, the memories from our last encounter — probably several weeks ago now — begin to trickle through my mind. I squint at the blur of blonde and grey in front of me, weakly nodding my head.
“...hey, Kris.”
I rub the streaks away, peering up at him with a hint of comfort.
It feels so good to see a familiar face.
“Hey,” he greets, sighing in relief, “Sorry, uh, it is Ash, right — and this is you?”
He holds up my old profile. I’m pretty sure it’s gained some new scribbles and notes since I last saw him.
“Yep,” I confirm quietly, “that’s me.”
“I thought so! Geez, it’s been so long since I last talked to you! The last entry I have about you was months ago!”
“...they moved me to a different ward for a while,” I explain, “Higher-security, more intensive measures. I wasn’t allowed to come down here for weeks.”
The flickers of doubt in Krissy’s eyes immediately go out. Regret quickly replaces it.
“O-oh…oh God, I—I’m so sorry, I didn’t even know that—”
“It’s not your fault,” I reassure them, swallowing, “I’m sorry if you felt lonely.”
“...a little, yeah.”
Krissy falls quiet after his admission, awkwardly biting his lower lip. “Are you uh…doing okay now? And what’s with that weird tube-thingie?”
“It’s to help with feeding, but they’ve said they’ll take it out soon,” I answer, now completely used to the niggling irritation against my throat, “All necessary to get me back on track with my treatment plan.”
“...what happened?” he asks in a hushed voice, kneeling down to join me on the grass.
“...my ex-neighbour convinced me to try and escape with him. Naturally, we got caught. After that they moved me up to Pine Ward where they could keep a closer eye on me. It’s been rough, but…it was for my own good.”
Krissy winces.
“That sounds horrible.”
“...yeah, it was.”
Another brief silence fills the air. I reach for one of the blades of grass, plucking it from the ground. “Anyway…that’s me. What about you?”
“...not too bad, thanks. Doubt there’s been many major updates, but uh…”
He flicks through his pad again, his eyes scanning over the various entries. I sit patiently as the boy scours his notes, too tired to really pay much attention to his scrawled words. “Well...more of the usual sus stuff — but I am feeling better, I guess? Like, less tired, able to focus more, feeling less run-down. It’s weird.”
“...sounds like it’s working though. The treatment.”
“I guess so,” Krissy murmurs reluctantly, “but I still hate it. It always hurts when they give it to me, but…there’s not a lot I can do about it.”
He sends me a helpless tiny smile. “We’re as stuck as each other, huh?”
“...pretty much.”
I play with the single blade of grass in my hand, taking note of its plastic sheen.
“How close did you get?” Krissy asks suddenly, “To getting out?”
“...literally opened the second exit. Security was already waiting. It was…basically useless.”
Krissy hesitates for a moment, checking over his shoulder.
“What if you tried it again? I mean, you were so close last time so maybe—”
“It’s still useless, Kris. Even attempting it will just get you shipped up to Pine Ward. Trust me, it’s not worth it.”
“But…what about all the other sus stuff that’s going on around—”
“It’s just in our heads. It’s not real.”
I can’t help but feel a slight chill at how…automatic my response is. “It’s pointless.”
“But Ash, there has to be a way—”
“There is no way, Kris.”
I rip up another blade of grass, crushing it in my tight grip. “We just have to do as they say, go along with the treatments and wait until we get discharged. That’s the only way we’re getting out of here.”
The hope in Krissy’s eyes fades. It’s almost painful to see.
“...what if they never let us out?” he challenges, peering at me with pleading eyes, “What if they keep finding excuses to keep us here? What then?”
“...there is no other way out, Kris.”
I shake my head, helplessly meeting their eyes. “There’s no escape from—”
Bzzzzzzt
My affirmation is cut silent. Startled cries ripple around the perimeter. Both of us instantly gasp, hurriedly scanning the surrounding area.
Huh? What’s going on?
The meadows around us disappear. One by one, every single screen dissolves into a pixelated mess, before completely blacking out. The other lights immediately shut off, plunging us into sudden darkness.
“What the heck?”
Krissy’s uneasy response is accompanied by a fearful shriek. The soft background whirring from the fans instantly ceases. Ambient sounds of ‘birdsong’ are harshly cut dead. The garden becomes eerily silent. At the same time, the emergency lighting kicks on, bathing everything it touches in an ominous red glow. The distant wailing of alarms begins to echo across the surrounding corridors. Uncertainty lingers heavily in the air.
“Some kind of…powercut?” I murmur instinctively moving a little closer to the blonde, “I-I don’t know.”
Given their stunned expressions, neither do the nurses. Most of us are too stunned to react, too stunned to do anything besides—
“Look! The doors!”
At the sudden hoarse cry, my attention snaps towards the garden entrance — towards the usually locked doors of the garden. Those same doors are now wide open in front of us, no longer functioning from the lack of power.
They’re...not closing.
The realisation finally hits us. We stare back at the gaping entrance, our eyes widening.
And if all the other doors on this floor are also unlocked…then that means—!
“Run...RUN!”
A single cry rings out — and everything erupts into chaos.
It's a liiiittle late, but better late than never! :D (also formatting keeps going weird on the nightmare sequences, really sorry! :'( )
Thank you so much to everyone for simply taking the time to look at this series, let alone read it and provide feedback. It honestly means so much and I am really enjoying the process so much (even if overthinking is a small issue aheh)
Another cliffhanger ending but yay Krissy is back and yay another potential opportunity to escape? :O Will it be second time lucky? We'll have to wait and see! Also, Voss is such a fun and complex character to write and I apologise if some of his actions were a bit uncomfortable this chapter. It just provides some more interesting material for whumper and whumpee conflict ;)
Wishing everyone a really great week ahead, best wishes and see you in the next chapter! :D xx
Tag List (by popular demand!)
@whumpsmith @illustriousshadow @melpomenelamusa @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are
I got tagged in this super cute and fun little activity by the lovely @melpomenelamusa (thank you so much for the tag! :D)
ORIGINAL POST HERE !
This is dr-abitat as a person! She's a very stereotypical doctor, with a touch of madness to the method given the questionable medical ethics in her writing ;) She loves cats, bold colours to go with a bold story and then a sprinkle of nature to and greenery for an extra fitting touch~
This was really fun -- thanks so much again for the tag! :D No pressure at all, but I'd love to spread the fun with these lovely peeps too! :D @whumpsmith, @illustriousshadow, @scarletfish8eta and also an open tag because why limit the fun? :D
That’s the first thing I wake up to — a constant dull throbbing that ripples across my temples.
Nngh…wha…?
Groaning weakly, I try to force my eyes open. My body feels…unusually heavy. Even the smallest of movements feels like a herculean task. A flicker of my fingers. An attempt to gather my bearings. All I can see is a shimmering white haze around me. Bright glaring lights stream down from above, prompting me to shut my eyes again with a small whimper.
What…nngh…what happened?
As the light burns into my retinas, I notice a few other sensations — something soft and light brushing over my body, a cushioned surface pressing into my back, a familiar distant sound—
Beep Beep Beep Beep
…monitor?
Grimacing, I peel my eyes open to get a better look. My vision is skewed, misted over like frosted glass. I can pick out concepts, but not any specific details. Only the most simple things around me: stark grey-white walls, bright lights, blurred monitors. That’s about it. Anything else is just too much to process right now.
“Ash — ley?”
A voice calls out to me from somewhere. It’s almost like I’m submerged underwater, trapped, unable to come up for air. Just the vaguely distorted sound of my name helps to pull me back from the depths.
“Nnn…”
It takes some time for my head to fully break the surface. As it does though, things finally start to clear. I recognise the voice. It sounds out again, closer now, as if he’s sitting right next to me. A quick turn of my head to my left confirms that fact. I force back a wave of nausea as the world jolts suddenly.
“I — glad to see — finally waking up.”
I can actually see him now. As usual, he’s right by my side, perched on a chair next to my bed. Both of his hands remain clasped in his lap as he studies me behind his glasses.
“Nngh…Doctor…Voss?”
As I stare groggily back at him, the room gradually shifts into clearer focus, confirming my first impressions. Colourless walls surround us on all sides. The former colour from my room has inexplicably disappeared. All of my precious photographs and pictures are gone. Not a single one remains. Blinking in confusion, I scan the rest of the room. There are a few pieces of simple-looking furniture that I had initially missed, including two chairs, a bedside table and a more modest sized closet — but that’s it. I’m…pretty sure there’s something else that’s missing too. I have no idea what, but even in my disorientated state I know one fact for certain.
This isn’t my room.
Suddenly unsettled, I attempt to pull myself up — but something catches against my wrists, preventing me from moving.
Huh? Why can’t I…move?
“Take it slowly.”
My head spins violently as everything lurches again. “It will take a little longer for the drugs to fully clear from your system. You might find yourself feeling a little nauseous from dehydration, but the side effects will pass soon enough.”
Bit by bit, his words trigger the flashes. Vague disconnected flashes of the last things I remember.
Dr Slade. Dex. Green fire. Elevator. Exit. Dr Voss. Needle—
Wait…needle?
“You were doing so well, my boy,” he continues quietly, “I was really hoping that we could avoid all of this — but as it stands, you have left me no other choice.”
His tone — although regretful — also carries an undeniable edge. Swallowing the nausea, I try to move my arms again. I’m only met with that same stubborn resistance at my wrists.
“Nngh, what do you...h-huh?”
Even with my head still reeling, I can clearly see them — the restraints. Soft but sturdy restraints buckled around both of my wrists, tethering my hands down.
Why am I…tied to my bed?!
Panic flares in my chest. My breathing instantly picks up.
“No…no no no, this—this isn’t—nngh!”
I desperately tug against the restraints, but they barely budge. My uncoordinated efforts are completely useless. With a distressed whine, I begin kicking and squirming against the mattress — only to be met with the same resistance at my legs. I jerk my head up, staring down the bed in horror. Similar fabric restraints ensnare each of my ankles, just above my grippy socks. I gasp sharply.
No, this—this isn’t happening, it’s not—it’s not real—!
“Calm down. Those are just a temporary measure for your own safety.”
My doctor’s calm declaration cuts right through my impending panic attack. Twisting towards him, I give my head a pleading shake.
“N-no…please,” I croak, my voice a strained mess, “Dr Voss, please—!”
“I know that those seem frightening, but they won’t hurt you. They’re just to keep you safe until you’re through this current phase.”
He acknowledges my frightened cry with a heavy sigh. “Believe me, it’s for your own good right now.”
For my own—no!
Terrified, I try to yank at my wrists again. Every struggle just leaves me more drained than before. At the same time, I feel something cold against my neck, like a band around my throat. I immediately recognise it, stiffening.
The collar…oh God—
“I know, my boy, I know,” he speaks softly, “This is hard for me as well.”
“Wh-what are you—”
“I really didn’t want to have to escalate like this, but it’s in your best interests for the time being — especially after what happened earlier.”
Earlier? What is he—
“You went through quite an ordeal, so allow me to fill in the gaps,” he starts, “Slade used you as a hostage to try and bargain his own escape from the institute. At some point, Dr Simmons joined him to assist his escape and at some point, they convinced you to escape with them as well.”
He tilts his head. “Your resistance against us was evidence of that. Naturally, you were not thinking clearly. You were in a state of distress and we were unable to de-escalate. We had no choice but to resort to…stricter measures.”
His recap sounds flawless. It makes so much plausible sense — but at the same time, it raises other questions.
“Wh-where are they?” I ask, tension building in my shoulders, “Dr Slade and—”
“Slade has been transferred to our maximum security facility,” he answers, “Unfortunately, I underestimated the level of care he would require, but at least he is in the right place for it now. As for Dr Simmons, he’s been dismissed from the programme for multiple counts of gross misconduct. You won’t be seeing him again any time soon.”
I blink back at my doctor, attempting to take it all in.
“They’re…gone?”
“Yes — and they won’t harm you again, Ashley. You’re safe now.”
My eyes remain fixed on his hazy form as he gestures around the room. “However, I have also had to make a few adjustments to your own accommodation. For now, you’ve been relocated to Pine Ward. It is one of our…higher acuity wards, with stricter security measures for high risk patients.”
High risk?
“No,” I protest immediately, shaking my head even harder, “N-no I—I know I messed up, but—”
“It’s just for the time being Ashley, until I can trust you to—”
“No I—I-I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”
Tears start spilling down my cheeks. Another helpless plea leaves my throat as he silently watches me. “I-I won’t try anything again. Just please — please don’t keep me like this!”
“...I’m afraid I have to, Ashley.”
His response makes me choke. “I can’t allow you to put yourself at risk or make any other reckless decisions. This is the only way to be absolutely certain that you won’t pose a risk to yourself, or others.”
His gaze never leaves my tearful face. I shudder, clenching my hands by my sides. “And of course you won’t be kept in those restraints all of the time. Once your risk level improves I will gladly remove them. Until then, this is necessary, for your own protection.”
“No—”
“And we’ll also need to make some significant amendments to your earlier treatment plan to reflect your latest deterioration. I know it feels like a step backwards, but we will get there. This is just another setback for—”
“No I—I don’t want this!” I cry, tossing my head about, “You always said I was in charge of—”
“Not anymore, Ashley.”
I gulp, shrinking against the mattress. “I’m afraid you no longer have the capacity to be able to say what you ‘want’ here. By law, that means you cannot refuse or consent to medical treatment yourself. As your named doctor, I must therefore act in what I deem to be your best interests — which includes these stricter measures for the foreseeable future, to prevent you from harming yourself or others whilst we re-establish your treatment plan.”
He folds his arms, peering back at me with an unreadable expression. “As I said, it’s for your own good, my boy. I’m sorry.”
I don’t respond. I simply stare back at him from my current position, looking — really looking — into Dr Voss’s eyes. I search them for any signs of genuine regret. Whilst it perfectly carries through in his voice, I don’t see a single flicker of it in his gaze. His words don’t meet his eyes at all.
It’s an act.
That sudden realisation tells me everything I need to know.
“...he was right.”
The words tumble from my lips. My hands start shaking again, but not just from fear. “Oh my—he was right!”
“Who was right? What are you talking about—”
“Dr Slade!” I shout, attempting to sit myself up even with the restraints still pinning me down, “He was right! He was right about everything! This place, the treatment, my powers, you—!”
“Ashley, I know you’re upset with me, but—”
“No, you—oh my God you—you lied to me! All this time I—I believed you, I—I trusted you!”
The buckles rattle loudly. Disbelief crosses my face. Conflicting emotions flare to life in my gut. Confusion. Guilt. Fear. Anger. Betrayal. “You made me believe I was sick—that it was all in my head, that—that my powers were—!”
“Ashley, superpowers do not exist—”
“They do!” I cut him off, glaring tearfully at him, “You saw that green fire back there! I know you did!”
“There was nothing there, my boy,” he emphasises, sitting up straighter in his chair, “Whatever you think you saw, it was all in your head—”
“No! It wasn’t! You—all of you are in on this!”
Dr Voss is quiet. He tilts his head to the side, studying me with a helpless expression.
“Do you even hear yourself, Ashley?” he sighs, “This is exactly the reason why these current measures are necessary. You’re not thinking clearly, my boy. I am trying to help you.”
“No, you’re not—!”
“But I am — and you’re just too selfish to see it!”
I flinch at his sharp tone. Noticing my reaction, the doctor takes a deep breath, composing himself. “Listen. I understand that you’re overwhelmed right now...but these silly stories have to stop. They’re not real, Ashley—”
“No—no, they were right! You’re lying to me. You are using me—!”
“The only one ‘using’ you was Slade!”
His words instantly shut me up. Peering down at me, he lowers his voice. “Do you really think he cared about you? The only reason he took you with him was to use you as a hostage to ensure his own escape.”
I counter him with a defiant growl.
“No, he—he cares about me! He told me to run and leave them! He promised he wouldn’t leave me behind to—
“But can you be so sure he would have kept that promise?”
My confidence suddenly falters.
“Wh-what?”
Dr Voss leans forward ever so slightly, speaking in a hushed tone.
“Can you look me in the eye and still say — with absolute confidence — that Slade was not planning to leave you behind after he’d escaped?”
The answer should be obvious — but his question is just enough to reignite any niggling doubts in my mind. The current state of my head from the leftover ‘medicine’ doesn’t really help. Gazing back at him, I open my mouth to speak, but I can’t get the right words out.
Would he have left me behind, even after we’d escaped?
“It really is a shame, my boy,” the doctor continues, taking my silence as a no, “You trusted him, even though he saw you as nothing but a tool to be tossed aside once you had served your purpose.”
“No—”
“You even trusted him over me — and that hurts, Ashley. After everything I’ve done for you, for our work and all of the work I’ve put into trying to get you better — but no. You trusted him instead — and you fell right for his manipulation.”
His words have the intended effect. Slowly, my former faith cracks. It’s a fragile and delicate thing, taken down by just a few simple words. Disbelieving tears fill my eyes.
Was he really just using me? All this time? Going along with his delusions?
I bite my lower lip so hard that it starts to bleed. A metallic taste soaks into my tongue as our eyes lock.
“...you’re lying.”
My voice rises in desperation, hurt shining in my eyes. “You’re a liar! LIAR!”
“Deny it as much as you want, but I am simply telling you the truth—”
“Then tell me the real truth, Dr Voss!” I snap, clenching my teeth, “What is this place? What are you doing to me?! What do you want with me?!”
He doesn’t even answer me now. My doctor just rises up from his seat, pointedly turning his back towards my bed. That simple gesture sends anger coursing through my veins. “Answer me!”
“Ashley, I need you to calm down—”
“I said ANSWER ME!”
I throw myself forwards with a yell, thrashing frantically against the restraints keeping me down. I almost don’t hear his response over the persistent rattling.
“...I really didn’t want to do this again so soon.”
With a reluctant sigh, he presses something on my bedside table. His lack of a proper response only makes me scream at him even louder in frustration. Two unfamiliar-faced nurses suddenly join us. My doctor wastes no time with his instructions. “Give him another milligram IM, before he hurts himself—Ashley stop that!”
He grabs my shoulder, forcing me down. The second nurse joins him. Strapped down, there is nothing I can do to fight them. It doesn’t stop me from trying though. The sight of the needle alone is enough to send my terror spiking through the roof.
“NO! STOP! STOP!”
My shrieks fall on deaf ears. I buck and squirm as best as I can, twisting my head repeatedly to make the process as difficult as possible.
“Quit it, kid!”
“LET ME GO!”
My sweat-soaked bangs dangle into my face. My shrieks morph into panicked panting as they locate the vein on my arm.
“Sharp scratch—”
“NO!”
A familiar pricking sensation follows. The icy substance works its way through my system even quicker than the last time. Almost immediately the haziness returns. Faces lose their features. I sob pitifully, feeling the effects rapidly taking over my body against my will. My limbs become like lead. It won’t be long before I’m gone again.
“Shhh.”
I feel his fingers in my hair. All I can do is whimper, unable to pull away as he gently strokes through it. “Don’t fight it, Ashley. You’ll only make things harder for yourself.”
“N-no…nngh…I…n-no…”
“Shhh. Just go to sleep. Let everything fade away.”
His blurred arm reaches for something, gingerly tucking it under the covers with me. It takes a good few seconds to recognise the sensation of that fuzzy brown fur tickling my teary face. “You’ll get — other belongings — soon. For now — make sure — to rest.”
He begins to blend with the surroundings. His parting words are the final thing I hear before the blackness comes for me again.
“You’ll
need
It…”
Fighting is useless.
After God knows how many days, I think I’ve finally learned that now — as well as the consequences for even trying. Refuse the meds — have them shoved down my throat. Get too rowdy — straight back in the restraints. Try to resist ‘treatment’ — out come the needles. The slightest bit of resistance and I’m back to square one. He had warned me about it many times. Despite that, I’d still tried. I had even resorted to fighting tooth and nail — literally — to make my escape. Of course they had just caught me straight away.
I think it was after that little event when he decided to adjust my ‘meds’ again.
I’ve undergone so many ‘revisions’ now that I’ve lost friggin’ count. They say it’s for my own good, or to get the optimum outcome from my treatment, but I know the real reason for it — to keep me a zombie. To keep me nice and compliant with my ‘treatment plan’. To swiftly cut any single thought of escape out of my head. Some days are bad, but the worst days? They’re like a living hell. Physically I’m alive. My heart still pumps blood around my body. Both of my lungs still inflate with oxygen. All of my biological systems operate exactly as they’re supposed to — but mentally, I’m just…existing, thanks to the drugs. It doesn’t change the same four colourless walls that greet me day in and day out, or the undeniable pain I feel after every bit of ‘treatment’ they subject me to. Sometimes the walls shimmer and pulse like living entities. Shadows will flicker in and out of my vision. I’ve even seen things I have no name for in my drug-induced ‘rest’.
It’s all just a part of my new existence.
I couldn’t even guess how long I’ve been stuck in here since my ‘relocation’. There’s no calendar, no clock and worst of all — no windows. I’m completely isolated from the outside, just short of solitary confinement. No warm feeling of sunlight on my face. No faint sound of birdsong. Not even any stars at night now — nothing. The only clues I have to the time of day are through the arrival of my ‘meals’, or the automatic shutting off of every light in my room at the scheduled hour for mandatory lights out. I don’t know what day it is. I don’t know what month it is. I don’t know anything anymore.
And every single one of them is damn determined to keep it that way.
Beep beep beep
I hear that sound constantly now. No matter what state I’m in, it’s always there. Beeping away, keeping track of my vitals, lulling me in and out of consciousness. Sometimes I hear other sounds too, like the voices of those around me, during the times they come to check on me to tend to my basic needs, or take me for another ‘treatment’. I barely have the energy to respond to them. Every bit of strength has been sucked from me. I feel like one of the zombies, staring at my little TV, taking in the overly bright colours and squiggly lines jumping manically across the screen. Even worse, I have to rely on the ‘nurses’ for everything. Even if I don’t feel like it, they still force me to eat, drink, shower and even drag me along on my daily supervised walk around the ward, whenever I’m not too drugged up of course. It’s just a reminder of who is in charge here.
And it isn’t me.
Anyway — several days or weeks later — I’ve finally started giving in. I don’t even try to fight them anymore. I just cooperate, play along and do whatever I have to do to get through one day to the next. It’s still a pitiful existence, but at least I’m rewarded with fewer druggings, a little more freedom and most importantly, better clarity. I cooperate with them all as best as I can — but not because I’ve given up.
…not yet at least.
“It doesn’t take this long to have a damn shower, kid!”
My new ‘nurse’ calls out impatiently behind the bathroom door. I don’t even try to suppress a tired sigh.
“Nearly done, sir.”
Jerkface.
I lean against the cubicle wall, letting the soothing warm water run over my sore skin. The glass is as foggy as my mind. Soapy suds from my half-hearted washing swirl down the drain, soon disappearing from sight. As weird as it sounds, the shower has become my new safe space. I’m not tied down, I’m on my own and I have twenty whole minutes to do whatever I want in there. Yell. Cry. Slam my hands against the glass. Whatever I want — although I’m actually amazed that my vocal cords still function after the first time I screamed myself raw in here. As the gentle streams continue to wash over me, I catch a glimpse of a face in the glass. I still can’t believe it’s mine.
…I look like crap.
A pair of heavy green eyes stare back at me, their former brightness now a dim flicker — although not completely extinguished yet. The pallor only emphasises the persistent dark rings underneath both of my eyes. Damp hazel hairs stick to my neck. Small plastic cannulae remain snugly taped on the inside of my arms. I could easily yank them out — but as I know from the last time I did that, it would be unnecessarily messy, not to mention completely useless. Of course the collar remains securely locked in place, completely waterproof. It hasn’t budged an inch since the day it was forced back around my throat. Faint cuts and grazes pop-mark my skinny form. The worst ones around my wrists are finally starting to fade. A few newer ones peer back at me from my arms and chest, stinging as the soap trickles over them. My hair is completely soaked from the water, my bangs practically sticking to my face as I stare at the boy in the glass.
Geez. I’m super overdue for a trim—
“Last warning, kid! If you’re not outta there in one minute…”
…I can’t stay in here all day.
“I’m just getting out, sir!”
Sighing, I reach for the knob and turn it clockwise to shut off the water. Staggering a little from the growing weakness in my legs, I carefully climb out of the shower, taking extra care not to slip. After towelling my sensitive skin dry and wringing every last drop of water from my hair, I reach for my clothes — the same standard uniform that has basically become a part of my identity. I’ve only just finished pulling it all on when the door harshly opens. Jerkface just glares at me.
“You finally done?” he demands impatiently.
“Yes, sir,” I answer monotonously, “All done, sir.”
“About time — your breakfast’s already here.”
Oh joy.
Shoulders stiffening, I reluctantly step out of my temporary sanctuary and follow him back to my bed. My other ‘nurse’ — Tall Guy — is already there, placing a grey plastic tray on my bedside table.
“You know the drill, kid. Every last bite.”
Resisting a groan, I drop down onto my bed and accept the tray. I’m hardly surprised by the meagre contents of the bowl.
Yep. Just the same old nutrient mush — again.
Ever since my move to Pine Ward, my personal menu has completely changed. Canteen privileges are revoked indefinitely and every ‘meal’ is almost exactly the same — a thick blended synthetic ‘stew’, apparently crammed with high levels of essential vitamins, minerals, carbs and protein. Literally everything I need to get through the whole day in one simple meal, three times a day. No preservatives. No added sugar. Just everything I need for ‘optimum functioning’, as he put it.
Well…bon appetit, I guess.
Reluctantly picking up the spoon, I eat in careful calculated bites. It’s not the easiest thing to force down and it barely eases the hunger pangs in my stomach, but I have to make the most of it. That's all I’m getting until my next meal. Sometimes they’ll allow me a snack as a reward for good behaviour, but otherwise, that’s it.
And honestly, I’m getting more than a little tired of it.
Hunger-striking sounds like a good alternative.
Tall Guy doesn’t take his grey eyes off of me for one second. It’s his job of course, to make sure my intake is sufficient to comply with my ‘treatment plan’, but that doesn’t make it any less unnerving, having him stare at me as I eat. Neither of us can be bothered to make any conversation either, so breakfast passes in its usual awkward manner. Each of my movements are robotic and automatic, proceeding in a step-by-step fashion.
Pick up the food. Put it in your mouth. Chew. Swallow. Repeat.
I wish I could just leave it now, but Tall Guy’s warning was clear — every last bite. Clenching my fingers tighter around the spoon,, I finish cleaning the bowl, before tossing the utensil noisily against it in a small act of defiance.
“There, sir,” I grumble, swigging off the accompanying cup of water, “Happy, sir?”
“Ecstatic.”
He rolls his eyes as he snatches up my tray. “Now just sit tight and wait for your appointment. He’ll be here soon.”
Yes he will. Just like always.
I turn my back to him, staring at the wall as the door shuts behind him and Jerkface. The minutes drag ominously by, just as they always do. I feel my stomach churning in anticipation. Nausea rises up into my throat. Both of my eyes keep flickering warily towards the door, waiting. It’s all I can do — until I hear the tell-tale clacking down the corridor.
Clack. Clack. Clack.
And there he is.
Every clack of his patent heeled shoes sends a shudder through my body. I swallow hard, forcing myself to take a deep breath.
Mind. Over. Matter.
Clack. Clack. Clack.
Everything. Will be. Fi—
Beep
The door opens. He pauses for a moment, studying me. Then come the slower footsteps, more deliberate. It’s become a new habit of his, as if to drag it out.
“Good morning, Ashley.”
I don’t even glance at him. I keep my gaze fixed on the ground, even as he approaches me. “How are you feeling this morning?”
Like a friggin’ zombie.
“...not bad, Dr Voss.”
Okay, Ash. You’ve got this. Just act how he wants you to act.
Blinking away the brainfog, I force my shoulders to relax and slowly raise my head to meet his gaze.
“So, is it time for treatment?”
“Almost — but first we’ll need your daily bloods.”
Of course you ‘need’ them.
“Sure, Dr Voss.”
Without a single protest I willingly stick out my arm. “Take whatever you need.”
My doctor blinks at me. I can’t tell if he’s surprised, or impressed.
“Thank you, Ashley. Matthias, if you will?”
Jerkface steps in again. Wordlessly, I turn my head, allowing him to do the usual process of taking my blood. I’m honestly amazed I have any left at this point. “I must say, it’s refreshing to see you so eager for once.”
“...I just know you’re doing your best for me,” I answer softly, wincing at the tightness of the tourniquet, “The least I can do is help make it easier.”
“...that’s very thoughtful of you, my boy.”
I nod back at him, hissing a little at the sharp prick of the needle. Grimacing, I keep my head turned away, trying to ignore the usual light headed feeling as they take God knows how many bottles of my blood.
Why do they even need so much?
“Well done. That wasn’t too hard was it?”
“No, Dr Voss.”
Biting my lip, I wait for Jerkface to dispose of the needle before willing myself to speak up. “Dr Voss, can I say something?”
“Of course you can,” he replies, standing beside my bed, “Is there something on your mind?”
Here goes.
“I just…I just wanted to say I’m sorry for not believing you.”
Surprise flickers across his eyes as my own lock with his. “You’ve always been right. About everything. I know I didn’t believe you at first, but now — after all the treatments and tests — I finally feel like I’m seeing the truth.”
I give my head a small shake for emphasis as Jerkface pastes a bandaid on my arm. “Superpowers don’t exist. They’re just a silly made-up story — and of course you’re trying to make me better. That’s what doctors do, so all of this is for my own good.”
Dr Voss remains quiet. He folds his arms, taking in my speech with an expression of interest as I continue. “I know I lashed out. I know I said things that I shouldn’t have, but I wasn’t thinking clearly at the time. It was just…all in my head — and now I know that, I feel so much better. I…actually think I’m finally getting there, Dr Voss.”
I allow a smidgen of hope to enter my voice as I peer back at him.
“You know what, Ashley?” he says, sending me a small smile, “It’s so good to finally hear this from you.”
“Thanks, Dr Voss—”
“A little too good, in fact.”
The hope rapidly backfires. His lips curl downwards into a disapproving frown. “You almost had me there, my boy — but I’m afraid you won’t be fooling me that easily.”
“W-wait,” I stammer, “what do you mean by—”
“You don’t actually believe any of what you’re saying, do you?” he interrupts sharply, “I think you’re just echoing exactly what I want to hear, so I decide to downgrade your risk level and relocate you to a lower security ward.”
My stomach lurches.
He saw right through me...oh crap—
“Well?” he adds, clearly unamused by my rehearsed speech, “Am I right?”
Naturally, I have no comeback. No defence and definitely no excuses. My silence says everything. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
…he’s got me.
Defeated, I tear my gaze away from him. I grit my teeth tightly, aiming my glare at the floor.
“How much longer are you going to keep me here?” I force out.
“As long as it takes for us to successfully work through your treatment plan,” he answers unwaveringly, “Until then, I’m afraid I cannot risk downgrading you to—”
“What more do you want from me, Dr Voss?!”
I jerk my head up with a fierce snap. My eyes burn painfully. “I’m not fighting anymore, I’m taking my meds, I’m making progress, I’m doing everything you tell me to—!”
“I know — and I agree that you are making progress, but it would be too premature at this stage to downgrade your risk level. We still have a lot of work to do in order to—”
“Then what do I have to do?!” I yell, my shoulders shaking, “Just tell me! I—I’m going crazy in here! I just wanna go outside again! Just for a bit! Please!”
“Then keep on going exactly as you are — preferably without any more lies from now on — and I might consider it.”
I shudder a little at the cold edge entering that second part. “Now then, let’s get you prepared for your treatment, shall we? Matthias, his medication?”
“Right here, doc.”
From one of the drug trolleys, he pulls out a horribly familiar syringe. Just the sight of it turns my cheeks near white. With my defiance fading, I back up against the bed, pressing as far back as I can.
“Wait—no. N-no, please! Not that one again, please!”
My pleading cries fall on deaf ears. Attracted by my cries, Tall Guy comes to join us, ‘helpfully’ pinning me in place. Jerkface hurries over with the syringe, loaded and ready for me. “No! No no no!”
“Settle down, Ashley. You know how this works.”
“No—no please! I—no!”
My glistening eyes meet my doctor’s, searching for the smallest spark of mercy as I sob in terror. “I-I’ll be good, I promise—I promise! No more lies, just—just please don’t drug me again! Please!”
My doctor just glances away, even when I cry out for him. “Dr Voss!”
“Just try to relax, my boy. You’ll feel a lot better soon.”
My weak squirming isn’t enough to throw them off. With a whine, I feel my limbs flopping lifelessly against the bed. The familiar glaze returns, soon joined by the black that engulfs everything around me. I’m vaguely aware of the bed beginning to move before it all goes dark. They can do anything to me now. Absolutely anything.
…and I won’t even see it coming.
Days drag by inside the walls of Ivy Institute. Since I’d tried to sweet-talk my way out of Pine Ward, they’ve started going tougher on me again — although they’re trying a different technique to get the drugs into me now. Instead, they’ve started spiking my ‘meals’, as if I wouldn’t notice. The ‘meds’ always take quick effect, rendering me back to my former zombie-like state of compliance, just to make me easier for them to handle. Again, they continuously relay their usual programmed messages like a broken record player:
‘It’s for your own good, Ashley.’
‘It will make you better, Ashley’.
‘You have to trust us, Ashley’.
...like heck I will.
Of course, whilst I have a ‘nurse’ watching me every mealtime I can’t exactly do anything — but as soon as they’re gone, it’s straight to the bathroom to purge it all out. It’s gross. It’s disgusting. The acid burns my throat every time I do it, but it’s better than the alternative. At least this way, I can control it. I can control what they do to me and what I will allow myself to take in. Only the water is safe to drink, although they could start spiking that too for all I know. It’s been almost a whole week now since I’ve actually digested any proper food. All I’ve kept down have been multiple cups of water. That’s it. Basically, I’m on hunger-strike — and there’s absolutely nothing they can do about it.
…or so I’d thought.
“Seven days, Ashley.”
I just stare wearily back at the doctor from my bed. Judging by the creased lines filling his face, he is not impressed. “You mean to tell me that have gone seven days without any proper nutrition?”
“I’ve been drinking plenty of water though,” I murmur with a hint of snark, hugging my knees to my chest, “You did tell me to stay hydrated, Dr Voss.”
He squints at me in response.
“Don’t talk back to me, Ashley,” he warns, running a hand through his hair, “Just—just help me to understand. Why are you doing this to yourself? Don’t you know that you’re making yourself sick?”
“I don’t care,” I answer, daring to meet his narrowed eyes, “I’m not hungry, Dr Voss.”
“Ashley, you need to eat—”
“What’s the point?” I interrupt, “To get through another hellish day here? Or so I’ll be easier to handle in your experiments once I’m all drugged up for you?”
“Again with the paranoia,” he sighs, pinching his nose, “The point is because a good balanced diet is a crucial part of your treatment plan and you’ll only get better by taking in what you need to recover.”
He adds on, with extra emphasis. “No one is tampering with any of your meals, my boy.”
I act as if I don’t even hear him. Frowning, Dr Voss pulls out a covered bowl with a plastic spoon and sets it down on my bedside table. Uncovering the lid reveals — very predictably — another bowl of nutrient mush.
Probably also drugged.
“You’re only harming yourself with this pointless hunger-strike. You’ve kept it up all week, but I’m afraid it ends tonight.”
He purposefully pushes the tray towards me, his expectation clear. “Now, stop acting so childish, pick up your spoon and eat.”
I take one look at the unappetising bowl before nudging it away.
“Not. Hungry.”
“Ashley,” the doctor warns, “please do not test my patience.”
He shoves the food towards me again. I stubbornly mirror his movement, gritting my teeth.
“Just leave me alone.”
Dr Voss slowly exhales. It’s obvious that I’m pushing his patience dangerously thin. Silently, he places the bowl straight back in front of me.
“Ashley…eat it—”
“No,” I answer defiantly, even as he towers over me.
“I will not ask you again—”
“You can’t force me to if I don’t want to, Dr Voss.”
“I mean it, Ashley. This is your last chance—”
“Or what?” I challenge tearily, “You’ll shove it down my throat?”
My own patience is gone. I don’t know how long it’s been. Days. Weeks. Heck, it could be months for all I know — but I’m so tired of everything. My ‘meds’. My ‘treatment'. My 'admission' — all of it. Before I know what I’m doing, the tray is thrown viciously aside. The bowl clatters noisily against the ground, spilling its lukewarm contents all over the floor. I don’t even care, staring straight at the doctor with a watery glare of defiance.
“I’d like to see you try.”
Dr Voss doesn’t respond. He remains completely silent, initially stunned by my outburst. Then, his expression changes. My brief burst of courage quickly fades.
I…should not have done that.
“...you just keep on making it worse for yourself, Ashley.”
Without taking his eyes off of me, he presses the button to summon the ‘nurses’. Jerkface and Tall Guy attend within seconds. “Rick. Bring me an NG tube. The smaller sized kit will work best for him.”
Tall Guy wordlessly disappears back out the door. My earlier resistance fizzles out. Despite the pain in my lower back, I shuffle against the wall, already getting a very bad feeling.
“Wh-what’s an…en-gee tube?” I stammer.
“...you’ll see for yourself in a minute.”
His cool gaze does not help my rising nerves, or the tense silence that settles over the room. By the time Tall Guy returns, my insides are a squirming mess.
“Here’s the kit, as requested.”
“Thank you, Rick. I think our patient could do with a little demonstration.”
I watch uncomfortably as he tears open the plastic packaging, pulling out a long thin tube from the pack. A bunch of numbers are written on the side of the yellow tubing. I gulp as he deliberately uncoils it.
Oh God…
“You see this, Ashley? This is an NG tube — also known as a nasogastric tube.”
He holds it up, making sure that I can fully see it. “As the name suggests, it is inserted through the nose and goes all the way down to the stomach to provide a form of enteral feeding. Normally it is used for patients who have an unsafe swallow, or for those who are simply not meeting their nutritional requirements — just like you are not meeting yours.”
I can already feel my throat tightening as he holds it a little higher. “Now, what was it that you said just a minute ago, my boy?” he muses, “‘We can’t force you to if you don’t want to’?”
Paling, I start to shake my head.
“W-wait a sec—”
“You need to eat, Ashley — and if this is the only way to get that nutrition into you, then we’ll just have to give it a go, won’t we?”
“N-no—no, you—you don’t have to…!”
But it’s already too late.
“Hold him down, Matthias.”
“Gladly.”
Knowing exactly where this is going, I immediately start struggling against Jerkface. I get a good kick to his kneecap, but he soon overpowers me, painfully pinning me against the wall.
“Get off! Get off me—nngha!”
“Hold still!” He growls, grunting as he struggles to keep me down “Rick, give me a hand!”
Tall Guy rushes over to assist. Each of them grab my shoulders, forcing me back into an upright position. Every thrash is completely useless, especially when Dr Voss rejoins us. He leans over the bed, dangling the tube in front of me.
“Please — nngh — p-please don’t—!”
“You only have yourself to blame for this, Ashley.”
Ignoring my dreaded whimper, he starts to stretch out the tube. “Keep him still, so that I can measure the length we need.”
The ‘nurses’ press down on my shoulders, keeping me firmly in place. The doctor threads the tube from the outside of my nose, around the back of my ear and down to the centre of my chest, murmuring to himself. “Ah, perfect. Tilt his head.”
“No!”
Despite the frantic jerking of my body, the ‘nurses’ grab a vice hold of my jaw, forcing me into the perfect position for him to insert the tube through my nose. He wastes no time, advancing it straight down. Almost immediately I’m gagging, retching, panicking—
“Stop struggling!” Dr Voss hisses, oblivious to my terrified struggles, “Just keep swallowing it down — nngh — that’s it, swallow, Ashley. Swallow!”
Tears trickle down my cheeks as I’m forced to keep swallowing that wretched thing, until he finally tells me to stop. I cough loudly, still retching slightly as he attaches a small syringe to the tube, testing the fluid that comes out. “Aspirate obtained. pH consistent with gastric acid.”
He sighs in relief. “Alright. Tape it in place and then get him a straightjacket. We can’t have him pulling it out, can we?”
My breath catches as I pick out the last part of his order.
“N-no! Not that! Anything but that!”
My fierce struggles almost dislodge the tube. With a frustrated growl, Tall Guy wrenches my arms in front of me before taping the tube in place. I don’t make it easy for them, kicking and squirming the whole time as I continue to shriek out loud. “Stop it! No! No—”
“Calm. Down.”
Dr Voss is suddenly in front of me. His hands grab my jaw in a tight grip, forcing me to look at him. I can only rasp in terror as he stares right into my eyes. “Answer me this: whose fault was this, Ashley?”
“Nngh—m-mine,” I half-whisper, my hands trembling by my sides.
“That’s right, my boy — your fault. We could have avoided this. I even gave you multiple chances — but no. You thought you knew better than me, didn’t you?”
I gulp, the back of the tube tickling my throat. It’s enough to almost make me gag. “I understand that you are frightened — and the paranoid thoughts certainly aren’t helping — but I won’t allow this kind of behaviour to continue either.”
His frown deepens. “And what would your family say? Do you think they’d be proud of you? Proud of this whole defiant display?”
The mention of my family stabs at me like a knife. “Because this isn’t you — and it only provides me with further proof that you are not safe to care for yourself.”
I bite hard on my lip, trying to stop another sob from coming out. Seeing that, he releases his hold, sighing. “Look. This is our position, Ashley. I am your doctor and you are my patient. I know what is best for you and I’m the only one who can help you whilst you’re in this state — you need me to help you.”
“B-but—”
“And if you don’t cooperate with your treatment plan, then I will be forced to keep you here even longer, for your own safety.”
“Nngh…”
I suck in a breath, especially as I notice Jerkface returning with a frightening looking jacket in his arms. I’d seen one used in movies and comics before, usually to restrain mentally unstable patients in asylums. The mere symbolism comes with its own labels — Insane. Freak. Psycho.
...I actually feel a lot like one of those patients right now.
“P-please,” I beg, sniffling, “please don’t put me in that thing. I-I’ll get better, I promise—”
“I know you will — as long as you follow your doctor’s orders,” my doctor answers, “No more little games, no more hunger-strikes and no more reckless attempts to escape — because this isn’t something you can just run away from.”
He peers at me seriously, emphasising his words. “There is no escape from any of this. You can deny it all you want, but this is your reality — and the sooner you accept that, then the easier this will be.”
The words begin to imprint into my brain. An icy chill runs down my spine.
No...escape?
“Do I make myself clear, Ashley?”
I stare back at his blurred form through my teary vision, unable to respond. The words are trapped in my throat.
“B-but—”
“Do I make myself clear, Ashley?”
His brown eyes stare intensely into my own. I gasp, swallowing even harder.
“Y-yes,” I almost whisper, “c-crystal clear…”
“Good boy,” he answers quietly, “so we won’t be having any more problems like this again, will we?”
Sniffling, I squeeze my eyes shut, bowing my head in defeat.
“N-no, Dr Voss. No we won’t.”
I hesitate for a moment, hating myself, before weakly adding on. “I…I-I’m sorry—”
“It’s alright. I forgive you, Ashley.”
His firm expression vanishes. Now all I see is a surprisingly gentle smile as he squeezes my shoulder, as if the last few minutes...never actually happened. “See? Isn’t it so much easier when we work with each other?”
I find myself automatically nodding with him. In a confusing gesture, he uses his own sleeve to wipe the tears from my face. “I really don’t like having to take these harsher measures, my boy — but you know it’s for your own good, don’t you?”
I don’t respond, simply averting my gaze in shame. “Now, be a good boy and let Matthias put the jacket on you.”
I sniffle again, watching as Jerkface approaches with the dreaded jacket. Trying to stop the trembling in my hands, I reluctantly hold out my arms, squeezing my eyes shut. I soon feel the soft sleeves of the jacket snugly fitting over them, followed by the rest of my upper body. I don’t put up a single struggle, only a frightened whimper when he starts to buckle it up.
“Nngh…”
“I know,” Dr Voss murmurs quietly, “I know it is frightening, but it’s for your own safety. If you promise not to pull out the tube, then perhaps we can remove it tomorrow, but for now…”
I merely incline my head, sucking in a breath as Tall Guy comes over to assist, buckling up my arms until I’m trapped in a tight self-hug. “Thank you, gentlemen. That will do.”
“Yes, sir.”
Without another word, they help me to lie back down in my bed, even adjusting my pillow for me. Dr Voss approaches again, giving the tube one last check.
“I’ll prescribe a set feeding regimen for you and we’ll need daily bloods to monitor refeeding syndrome. I’ll add that to your treatment plan before we start fresh tomorrow. I’ll also update your family for you.”
I don’t respond, simply keeping my eyes closed as water continues to leak from them. I hear the doctor start to move away, before his footsteps suddenly stop, as if remembering something. “Oh and speaking of your family…they still haven’t called themselves to check up on you, even after I informed them of your acute escalation.”
His almost deliberately timed update hits me like a vicious punch to my stomach.
They still haven’t…called? Even after this — all of this — they’re just…ignoring me?
My chest tightens. They really…don’t care about me, do they?
“I can’t even begin to imagine how much you must be hurting right now, to be betrayed by the ones who are supposed to love you,” he continues, “It really is a shame.”
I only partially hear his words, instead peering past him towards the blurred collection of my photos now pinned against the wall. My eyes flicker from each of their faces, searching for any signs of affection amongst their pixelated gazes.
What did I do wrong? Why don’t they want to—
“Especially after what you went through with...your parents.”
His words are like a trigger. Just like that, I’m back on that porch, saying my goodbyes to them before school.
My…last goodbyes.
“It’s just for a few weeks, Ash. That’s all.”
Dad crouches in front of me, gently holding my shoulders. “Trust me, the time will fly — and you know you’ll have fun with your aunt and uncle, right?”“I do, but…”
I peer up at him. My own eyes shine with uncertain tears, fingers tightening around the handle of my hedgehog suitcase. “I-I’ll really miss you.”
“Oh sweet pea, we’ll miss you too.”
Mom joins us, lowering herself to our current level as Dad wraps his arms around me. I feel his smooth hands running through my hair, tousling it gently to comfort me.
“Y-you’ll call, right?”
“Every night. We’ll want to hear all about your day and all the fun you’re having without us~”
Dad nods in agreement with her, holding me a little tighter when I still seem hesitant.
“Listen, Ash. I know that the world can seem like a scary place — especially when your mom and I aren’t around — but you know what to do if you get scared, right?”
“Mind Over Matter,” I answer immediately.
“Exactly — Mind Over Matter, don’t trust strangers and always be careful.”
Dad hesitates for a moment. “Because...there might also be other times when Mom and I can’t...always be with you, even when we really want to be, so—”
“Lyndon.”
Mom shakes her head. With a small nod, Dad turns back to me with a fresh smile on his face.
“So that’s when you’ll need to be extra brave for us, okay?”
“O-okay,” I say, forcing my biggest smile for their sake, “I can be brave, Dad.”
“You already are, Ash. You’re our big brave boy.”
She presses a kiss on my forehead. “And as Dad said, we’ll be back before you know it, alright?”
“...you promise, Mom?”
Mom leans a little closer. Her finger brushes a stray strand of my hair, fixing it behind my ear.
“Promise.”
She smiles again, caressing my face softly. Dad watches us fondly, before opening his arms wide.
“Alright, come on. Family huddle time. Bring it in!”
The two of them catch me in their embrace, hugging me close. I squeeze them both tightly, laughing quietly along with them as Mom almost pulls Dad over. I inhale the sweet scent of Mom’s floral perfume. My face rubs against Dad’s soft cotton shirt. The three of us just hug each other tightly, in our own little huddle.
Safe.
“Ashley — Ashley?”
Mom and Dad are gone. The arms around me vanish and I’m back on that bed again. The only one saying my name...is him.
Always him.
“I know that this has been…quite overwhelming, so I’ll leave you to rest now.”
He pauses for a moment. “And I know you’re still hurting from their betrayal — but don’t worry. I won’t give up on you that easily. Trust me.”
Before I can even think of a response, the door is already closing behind him. Its high-pitched beep echoes through the quiet room, eventually fading into the silence. It lingers for about five seconds, maybe seven.
Then — with nothing to stop me — I finally break down.
Whew that was...a lot... (sweats)
(Ahem) Thanks so much to everyone who has kept up and followed Ash's story so far. I apologise if some of the topics in this chapter were a little dark, but it's a hint as to the kind of events that are going on behind the scenes. Medwhump wise I had a tonne of fun writing this chapter, as well as the slow process of gradually breaking Ash down through his 'treatment'. It's all for his own good though, right?
Next chapter will hopefully be up next Friday, once again thank you so much and any feedback is much appreciated. Enjoy the week ahead and take care of yourselves, lovelies! xx
That’s literally all I can force out after Dex’s...completely crazy response.
I have to have heard that wrong—
“You heard me,” he replies softly, not once taking his eyes off of my stunned form, “You’re a super, Ash. Just like us.”
I blink back at him in disbelief. My eyes flicker between him and Dr Slade, waiting for them to continue, to throw out the punchline, or just to offer some other weird explanation behind his revelation — but I get nothing. Nothing at all. Just an uncomfortable silence that settles across the room. Eventually, I manage to break it.
“...superpowers don’t exist. Fact.”
“Fiction,” Dex counters to my semi-programmed response, “I know how it sounds, but they are real. You have them. You’ve experienced them—”
“What—what are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about the green light and the prickles, Ash. You know, those ‘hallucinations’ you told me about?”
My heart begins to race, especially as Dex gestures to my hands. “Those are all a sign of your powers, kiddo. Everything that they told you has been a lie—”
“No. No, that’s not—that can’t be…”
The words slip out gradually, ringing with denial. Disbelief enters my voice. Fear follows with every deliberate shake of my head. “N-no. No, you’re—you’re wrong!”
I wrap my arms around myself, trying to calm my breathing again. Dr Slade watches me helplessly, clearly unsure how to comfort me right now.
“I’m sorry, Ash—”
“No—time out. Time out!”
Both of them wince at my pleading cry. Frantically peering between them, I begin reeling off my counter-arguments with growing emphasis. “All of this is fact: I don’t have powers. We’re on a psych ward, it’s all in my head and none of it is real—”
“But it is—”
“Then why can’t I just magically make green fire right now, huh?” I challenge through gritted teeth, “Tell me, why?!”
“...it’s because of that thing around your neck.”
Dex silently gestures to the choker around my throat — the same choker that had repeatedly stunned me less than five minutes ago.
“The…vitals choker?” I almost whisper, half-expecting it to start zapping me again.
“It’s more than just a choker,” Dex explains grimly, “Not only is it connected to a device that allows it to deliver ‘motivational shocks’ from a remote location, but yours also contains a form of advanced power-suppressing tech. It’s basically designed to block off any abilities of the wearer until they’re actually needed — and I can see from here that your current suppression setting is sitting at about...ninety percent.”
He gestures to the chip again. “And after I activate this little thing, then all of the collars with connected serial numbers will automatically unlock.”
“They will?” I gasp, already fumbling with the choker.
“Yup,” Dex confirms, “It might feel a little weird to start with, but you’ll re-adjust soon enough.”
Holding the chip closer, the younger doctor sends Dr Slade and I an encouraging smile. “So, shall we find out what zero percent suppression looks like?”
My former neighbour has zero hesitation.
“Go for it, lad. Ash, are you ready?”
I almost don’t hear him. My mind is whirring at a million miles a minute right now.
This has to be some kind of trick.
“We’ve already wasted enough time. I’m just gonna do it,” Dex decides.
Superpowers aren’t real.
“Okay. One, two...three.”
The choker clicks loudly against my throat. The pressure eases around my neck as it suddenly loosens.
Superpowers aren’t real.
The collar drops to the ground with a loud clatter, rolling harmlessly across the floor. Slowly, I move my hand to its former spot, tracing over the burnt area of skin from earlier.
Superpowers aren’t re—
“Ngha!”
Fire — burning waves of fire — immediately ignite inside of me. My body shudders violently. I feel it coursing through me, spreading down every vessel and nerve. A sharp cry leaves my lips. My breath is temporarily stolen as my fingers begin to tingle. Both of my palms prickle at the same time, heat rising within them.
Just the hallucinations. It’s not real—
“Look at your hands, Ash.”
I shake my head hard, tears pricking my eyes.
No, I can’t. I can’t look—
“Gnngha!”
The pain forces my eyes open. I stare down, right at my hands — at the green.
“N-no no no — not real, it’s not real, it’s not…h-huh?”
No matter how many times I blink, it doesn’t go away. I see exactly the same thing — that green glowing light, the same one from my nightmares, almost dancing across my fingertips. Sparks fly from all of them, bathing my whole body in…warmth.
“Wh-what — the — h-heck…?”
The emerald begins to blur before my eyes. At the same time, something else starts to change. What had begun as a barely tolerable sensation is now shifting into something…almost pleasant. Warm, soothing and comforting. Like a gentle glow that settles over me, sapping away my pain. As it does, I feel…invigorated. Energised.
Alive.
“Ahh…hahhh…”
I can’t help but gasp as this…thing…drifts through me. The whole process — every second of it — feels nothing short of surreal.
Is…this even happening? Am I…dreaming? Or is it just one big hallucination that—
“O-oh thank God!”
I turn my head towards Dr Slade. Sheer relief crosses his face as his own energy returns. I watch as he rubs at his neck, half-laughing as the cuts on his arms…begin closing themselves up.
“Wh-wha…?”
I gawp at him. The next time I look — they’re gone. Not a trace. Not a single scratch left.
…yep, definitely dreaming—
“You okay there, kiddo?”
Dex moves a little closer to me. I stare back down at the green, trembling.
“I…uh…I-I don’t know…”
The right words fail to come out. I lift my head up to meet his eyes, tears trickling down my face. My voice starts to crack with desperation. “I—y-you’re seeing this too, right? It’s not just me? Not just in my head?”
Dex’s nod is as clear as day. A sob of relief slips free. “O-oh God…oh God, oh God. This…this is…!”
Real.
At that realisation, a different form of panic seeps in. An even worse one.
“Just take some deep breaths, Ash,” Dr Slade murmurs, barely audible over my current hyperventilating, “It’s arite—”
“It’s real. I-it’s actually real and they—they told me it wasn’t, that—that I was just seeing things, that—that’s it all just in my head—then why—why did they—why—?!”
“Ah know, ah know. Shhh, shh shh.”
He gently squeezes my shoulder, comforting me as I try to settle my breathing. “Breathe with me, lad. In — and out. That’s it.”
Together, we start breathing at the same time. Deep breaths in — and out. We repeat the process a few more times, gradually helping to calm me down. The adrenaline eases. My chest loosens. The tears stop. I don’t know how long it takes, but by the time I’m fully orientated again, Dex is standing in front of us.
“I’m really sorry to have sprung this on you, Ash, but it was in your best interests that you knew.”
He runs a hand through his blonde ponytail. “And with that outta the way, we should probably get going. It’s only a matter of time before they figure out I was stalling them. After that, my cover’s as good as blown — and my inside privileges will be gone too.”
“Then we’d better move fast.”
Crouching down to my level, Dr Slade places both of his hands on my shoulders. “Lad, did you hear all that?”
I did hear it — but there is one thing I’ve just realised.
“...what about the other patients? They’re trapped here too, right?”
“We’ll come back for them — with reinforcements,” Dex answers reassuringly, “Luckily, I was able to get some useful information from this place to help us out — and as long as we get out with that, then the others still have a fighting chance.”
“And a fair few of them will now have their powers restored without their collars, so that might also keep the staff busy for a bit.”
For a moment I see a flash of their faces. The ones I would be leaving behind.
Elle. Bryce. Cody. Alex. Krissy.
“...o-okay,” I agree quietly, “then we just need to go.”
“That’s right,” Dr Slade says soothingly, “so dry those tears, lad. We’re going to be just fine, arite? I know everything seems scary right now, but we can’t lose hope yet.”
He’s right. I know he is — but it doesn’t change the fact that I feel completely lost right now.
He’s right. Pull yourself together, Ash.
Taking a deep breath, I wipe away the last of my tears and straighten up.
“...is it safe to come out?”
“Lemme just check that…”
Dex heads towards the door, scanning it open with his card. He peeks around the corner, checking both directions. “Nothing left. Nothing right.”
A second later, he responds with a thumbs up. “Yep, all clear.”
“Thank you, Dr Simmons.”
The older doctor ushers us out into the corridor. He automatically takes up his position at the head of our group and sends us a confident grin over his shoulder. “Now let’s go find this elevator.”
A few corridors down — and one uncomfortably close shave later — we finally reach our destination. By a stroke of actual good luck, the elevator is already there and waiting. After a last quick check to make sure we’re clear, the three of us hurry inside of it, immediately shutting the doors.
“Where to?” I ask, hovering my finger over the floor buttons.
“Lower ground. That’s where we need to go.”
“Got it.”
The icon emits a soft glow as I lightly press on it, triggering the start of our slow descent. Even though we might be safe for now, my chest is still painfully tight from dread. “What’s actually down there?”
“Our ticket out of here,” the older doctor answers, tapping his foot against the ground, “There’s a tunnel to allow vehicles in and out of the institute. That’s our target.”
“...this place has a secret underground tunnel?” I comment, blinking in disbelief.
“Probably so they can process their shadier ‘deliveries’. You know, transporting ‘patients’ against their will?”
I shudder silently at Dex’s grim comment. “Anyway, we’re gonna use that same tunnel to our advantage. It’s a bit of a maze down there, but hopefully the rest of the staff are still busy on the upper—ack!”
A loud ominous clunking sounds above our heads. The elevator floor suddenly jerks to an abrupt halt. Its metal walls tremble around us. The force is strong enough to almost lurch us forwards.
“Wh-what the—?!”
“Mother lover!”
My heart jumps into my throat as the vibrations start to cease. Despite how unsteady I suddenly feel on my feet, we’re not moving at all. Not up, or down.
We’re just...stuck.
“What’s going on?” I pant, ignoring the increasing pain in my palms, “Is it jammed?”
“More like overridden,” Dex hisses, “Ash, try the buttons!”
Logical sense immediately tells me to press the big red alarm button to summon help. As my finger brushes against it, Dex suddenly swipes at my hand. “No, no, no — not the emergency one! That will tell them where we are!”
“But—isn’t that what you’re supposed to do in an emergency?!” I retaliate, “Call for help and raise the alarm?”
“Normally yes, but this is different, lad. The elevator might have just been stopped as a security measure. If we press that button, everyone in the facility will know where we are and we will not get another chance at this again!”
“And normally you would just hang tight until help arrives and not try to leave the elevator in case it starts up again — but since we don’t want our ‘help’ to find us, then naturally, we need to do the opposite of that advice.”
Wait—what?!
“Exactly — you two keep trying the other buttons. I’ll check the doors.”
The older doctor immediately stalks over to the elevator doors, pulling and prying at them with all of his strength. I watch him wearily, my mind whirring.
Am I the only sane person in this elevator right now?!
Still very uncertain about this, I anxiously join Dex in checking out the other buttons. The small space is soon filled with various sounds: my own panicked breathing, our exerted grunts of effort and the frantic clicking of every single icon. Dex’s wavering calls soon join the chorus.
“Come on, come on! Sometime today would be super nice!”
“It’s no use! None of them are working!” I cry out, jamming on the same button out of desperation. “Please work, please work—!”
“Then these — gnngh — blasted doors are our only way out!”
Dr Slade jerks his head over his shoulder, his arms straining under their weight. “Give — nngh — give me a hand!”
“Hold on, Doc! Let’s just — gnngh — get these things — nngh — open!”
When spamming on the buttons continues to fail, I rush over to join my older companions. Together, we yank at the stubborn metal. I feel my teeth grinding against each other from the sheer effort it takes to open them.
“Almost — nngh — there!”
“Thank God — hnngh!”
With one last tug, we manage to force both of them fully open — exposing our current trapped position in the cramped elevator shaft. Light streams in from the nearest floor, about a metre below us. The area is soon lit up by the glowing green now leaping off my fingers. A small gap rests between us and the next floor. Below that is just…darkness.
Breathe. You’re okay. This is…totally normal.
“Looks like we’re stuck in the shaft,” Dex reports with a wince, “Oh boy, this isn’t good…”
“And it’s not like we have a ladder or anything.”
Dr Slade grits his teeth. “Looks like we’ll have to jump down.”
“...jump?”
I gawp at my former neighbor dubiously, before following his finger down towards the opening of the next floor. I inhale sharply. “N-no, no way—”
“Trust me, I know what we’re doing,” he insists, “This is far from the first facility I’ve had to escape from and I doubt it’ll be my last.”
“But it’s too—wait!”
Too late. He’s already slipping through the gap, manoeuvring his body in some weird combination between a crouch and a jump onto the other side. I hold my breath as he barely makes it to the edge, narrowly misplacing his footing.
This is crazy — absolutely, definitely one hundred percent crazy!
“What—Doc!”
“It’s fine! I’m perfectly fine!”
His voice soon sounds from the other side, unnervingly unphased. “You go next, Dr Simmons.”
“Aha…okay, oookay — can’t believe this is my first time doing this, but there’s a first time for everything — hiyah!”
Before I can shriek a warning, Dex is already squeezing through after him. I instantly panic when his foot catches the floor — dangerously close to the edge — but then he manages to get into the right position, joining the other doctor on the opposite side. “Whew! Now that was something!”
“Excellent work — now go scout ahead for us and check the corridors for any dangers. We’ll catch up with you shortly—”
“Um…D-Dr Slade?” I stammer, really not liking the current view.
“It’s arite, lad. I’m staying right here.”
His toes brush against the edge of the floor as he extends an arm out towards me. “It’s your turn now. Just reach for my hand and jump down.”
It takes all my will to not look down that tiny gap into the dark abyss waiting at the bottom — a long way down. Nausea ripples in my throat.
That emergency button is looking really tempting right now!
“I–I can’t do it!”
“You’ll be fine. Just trust me.”
“No, this—this is too far! This is way too—!
“Ash, look at me.”
His tone immediately gets my attention. Reaching out his hand even further, our eyes meet. I hear nothing but his serious words. “I promise I won’t let you fall.”
“But—”
“Trust me, Lightbug. I will catch you.”
...Lightbug?
Something in his voice gives me just enough courage to listen. Swallowing, I shuffle closer to the elevator edge, crouching down to get into a better position. I keep my gaze firmly on Dr Slade the entire time.
You can do this.
My glimmering hands tremble as I reach out towards his own. I brace myself, terrified.
Mind. Over. Matter.
With a frightened cry, I allow myself to drop. My body starts to plummet down, guided by gravity. My feet catch the edge as I start to stumble. I’ve barely let out a terrified shriek before I feel both of his hands tightly grabbing onto me, locking in place around my wrists.
“Easy, I’ve got you — I’ve got you!”
He doesn’t let go — not until we’re both well away from the dangerous edge. Panting, I find myself clinging onto him like a lifeline, struggling to process our daring escape. I notice a faint burn mark on his hands where I had grabbed him, but it’s already starting to heal itself before our eyes.
Oh God—
“Lad, are you alright? Did you hurt yourself?”
“N-no, I’m fine. Just…”
I draw in another deep breath, still shaken up. “Th-thanks, Dr Slade.”
“Anytime,” he replies, carefully helping me up, “Come on, let’s see where Dr Simmons got off to. I’m hoping the corridors ahead are all clear by now.”
“And if they’re not?” I dare to ask, my fingers prickling a little more.
“...then I want you to stay close to me until we reach that tunnel.”
He sends me a serious look. “And if things take a turn for the worst and you have to use your powers, then use them. Whatever gets us out of this godforsaken place.”
“B-but I hardly know the first thing about them, let alone how to use them!”
“Don’t worry, you seem like you’re a fast learner, lad. You’ll be fine.”
I feel like his faith in me is very misplaced as we hurry down the corridor. A large letter ‘G’ catches my attention, at least giving us an idea of our current location.
Looks like we’re on the ground floor.
“One more level to go?” I confirm, pressing close to him as we carefully navigate the corridors.
“Aye, but we still need to be prepared. We have no idea how many of them might be down here, so tread with caution, arite?”
That’s exactly how we proceed — with a lot of caution. Dr Slade guides me the whole way. One arm stays protectively in front of me, shielding me and pushing me back when a stray staff member or uniform comes a bit too close. We duck, dip and dodge our way along the floor until we finally find it: the stairwell leading down.
“There you are!”
Dex greets us on the other side with a relieved sigh. “I did a clean sweep of the stairs and it looks like we’re good. The coast's all clear.”
“Brilliant. Let’s move — just hang on a wee bit longer, lad. We’re almost there.”
Allowing myself the tiniest hopeful smile, I hop over the chain on the ‘restricted access’ sign and follow them both down the silent winding staircase towards the lower ground level. Our own footsteps are surprisingly faint around us, pattering against each step in our grippy socks as we descend further into the institute. Dex is the exception of course, but he’s obviously well-versed in stealth training, given his own feet barely make a sound.
“Do you know what type of security measures are on the next level, Dr Simmons?”
“Yep, basically everything you’d expect from a creepy doctor’s crib — plenty of cameras installed too.”
He keeps his voice hushed as we move. “The tunnel we wanna use is locked by a security gate. As long as you’ve got an ID card for Band B staff and above — which we thankfully happen to have — then it should open right up. We can try going on foot, or if they’ve got any spare vehicles just sitting around then we can always—”
He suddenly falls quiet. Both of his feet stop on the next step down, prompting Dr Slade and I to do the same. At first I think we’re just imagining things, but then I hear them, descending quickly from from above us.
Footsteps — lots of them.
“Dr Slade—”
“Keep going,” he hisses, “Straight down and through those doors, before they catch onto us — hurry!”
I don’t waste a moment. I don’t dare to glance over my shoulder, trying to muffle my panting as we stumble down the last few steps. As the footsteps quicken above us, we finally reach the doors. A quick scan of our stolen ID card allows us immediate access.
“Inside — quickly!”
The three of us dash around the basement-like area, illuminated by the weakly flickering spotlights above our heads. It certainly doesn’t help set the mood. The lighting is so dim, that I have to rely on my own green light to guide us around. Several stacked crates and silver coated vans — all branded with the same weird symbol that is stitched into our uniforms — are parked all around the area. Besides us, it’s quiet. Empty.
But not for long.
“Over here!”
Dex pulls us both by the arm towards the nearest line of vans, no doubt used for transporting various supplies and ‘patients’. From there, we sink to the ground together, briefly catching our breath as the door beeps open.
Breathe. breathe…
We can all hear them — the multiple footsteps heading in our direction. They’ve barely made their way through before the door beeps open a third time. I shudder, desperately trying to conceal the growing green in my palms.
Not exactly helpful for stealth when you’re lit up like a human glowstick!
“Split up — you all take that side. We’ll stick over here. Yell if you find any trace of them!”
My insides twist with nerves.
No guesses who the ‘them’ in that order is referring to—
“There it is.”
Hissing under his breath, Dex points out the security gate on the other side of the basement. “If we make it to that gate, then we’re home and dry.”
“That might be a bit of an exaggeration — but you’re right. We need to get over there.”
“Even with all of them searching for us?” I whisper, trying to bundle my hands in my pants.
“I’m afraid so.”
He peers across at me sympathetically. “Stick by me, Lightbug. Things might get a wee bit hairy.”
As exhausted and overwhelmed as I am, I know there’s no time to rest. We’re still very much in the danger-zone.
You can do this.
I use both the vehicle and his hand to pull myself back to my feet. Keeping my hands as hidden as I can, we use the parked vehicles to our advantage as a form of effective cover. So far it seems to be working well. I try my best to tune out the footsteps of our pursuers as we inch closer towards the exit gate.
Ding.
The sound comes out of nowhere. All of us instantly recognise it.
The elevator!
Cursing under his breath, Dr Slade holds an arm in front of me and Dex, trying to peek around the van.
“Smith. Update.”
I freeze.
It’s him—
“Someone used Tod’s skeleton chip to deactivate a bunch of the collars,” a gruff voice reports, “They’re still rounding up the rogue ones upstairs. As for the others, we caught sight of them heading this way. They’re almost certainly hiding down here, sir.”
“Good.”
His footsteps sound louder than ever as they clack against the floor. “Block off every exit out of the building. Proportional measures only. My patients are not to be harmed — is that clear?”
“Yes, sir!”
Dex presses against me a little further, gritting his teeth as the guard barks out his orders to the rest of the crew. Dr Slade shakes his head, keeping his voice low.
“Alright. Either we run for it and hope we’re fast enough, or we lie low until they pass by.”
“But they just said they were going to block off the exits — which probably includes that one as well!”
From the way they both look at me, we all know that I’m right.
It’s now, or never.
“...arite.”
The older doctor gently squeezes my hand. “We move together. Just wait for them to head away. That’s it…now!”
We seize our chance. The three of us scurry along in tandem, as quietly as we can. Each step gets us closer to our end goal. I swish my head left and right as the footsteps threaten to close in on us. Dex holds up a hand to stop us now and again, checking everything is clear before ushering us on.The whole time I keep my free hand out of sight in my clothing, but all it does is burn the fabric. A charred cotton scent lingers in the air. I swallow uneasily.
Mind. Over. Matter.
“Not far now!”
My former neighbour’s reassurance has its desired impact. Forcing myself to focus, I keep stumbling after him, trying not to burn his hand. Ahead of us, Dex manages an impressive sneak attack on one of the nurses, knocking them out against one of the crates. Hope growing, we keep pressing forward. The exit gate grows nearer by the minute.
Almost there. We’re almost—
“Found ‘em!”
A sudden shout rings out from behind us. “I see ‘em, over by the gate!”
A dozen footsteps instantly flock towards our location. Our cover’s blown. Dex curses.
“Screw it — just run!”
We sprint. All of us sprint as fast as we can. The two doctors take the lead. I see them exchanging punches with the uniforms. Everything rushes by in a blur. All I can do is keep running, using my hands to guide us. I have no idea how to use my so-called ‘power’ to actually help.
“Dr Slade—ack!”
Fingers latch onto me. With a cry, I shove my hands in uniformed faces, half-blinding them with my light. The grip on me soon releases, allowing me to scramble away. The prickling becomes almost unbearable. Everything is an uncoordinated mess. I just move as my body tells me, throwing the green fire around haphazardly, hoping for the best—
“Lightbug, down here!”
Dr Slade’s hand snatches mine up once again as we charge around the corner. As we do, we finally come face to face with our way out.
“The card—the card!”
Dex gestures wildly to the door. “Doc, toss it!”
The card flies through the air. The blonde reaches out to grab it — only to suddenly collapse to the ground with a pained holler.
“D-Dex!”
“Bloody—lad!”
The two of us drop next to him. Dr Slade instantly starts to assess the damage, but even I don’t have to be a doctor to identify the problem. Namely, the weirdly shaped bullet lodged in his leg.
“I-I’m fine! Just — nngh — just help me get up before they—!”
The footsteps halt around us. Multiple clicks can be heard.
“...I think it might be too late for that, lad.”
His grim expression fills me with dread. Gulping, I hesitantly look up from the bright red trickling from the new hole in Dex’s shin to the cluster of uniforms now surrounding our group. I recognise Big Nose amongst them, pointing his weapon in our direction. He’s not the only one. A few other uniforms are doing exactly the same, clearly not afraid to shoot…whatever at us. A sea of disapproving faces leers back at me, parting to allow the head doctor through. I find myself shrinking away, my heart racing in panic.
“Dammit,” Dex hisses, his own face beginning to pale, “There’s...there’s no fighting our way out of this.”
Dr Slade wordlessly shakes his head. Our earlier spark of hope begins to fizzle out as he peers apologetically at me.
“I’m sorry, Lightbug—”
“Give it up, Slade.”
Dr Voss takes a step forward, his eyes sweeping over us. His gaze is firm, but also…sympathetic. “There’s nowhere for you to run, so please just cooperate.”
“Not in a million years—”
“I know you think you’re helping him,” he interrupts, holding up his hands in a placating gesture, “but I can tell you right now that this is not the way to do it.”
My former neighbour just growls at him.
“D-Dr Voss…”
Turning his attention to me, the man’s features soften.
“Ashley — are you hurt anywhere?”
“I…n-not really, no.”
“Good. Slade can be quite…unpredictable at times.”
He extends his hand out towards me. “Come over here, my boy. It’s alright.”
My gaze flickers from his outstretched hand, to the now encouraging expressions on the nurses’ faces—
“Don’t listen to him, lad. He’s using you.”
Dr Slade’s words send a shiver through me. It’s enough to make me hesitate.
Has he really been lying to me all this—
“There’s no need to be afraid, Ashley. You’ve done nothing wrong at all. You’re safe now.”
He remains as patient and understanding as ever. I glance back at the green on my fingers. The green that…I don’t one-hundred percent know is even there or not.
Is this real? Is any of this real? Will it all go away if I just…go with him?
The war continues to wage in my head. A war that only I can control.
He’s helped me so much. He’s making me better. He—he cares about me!
Slowly, my feet begin to shuffle forwards, back towards him—
“Ack!”
I’m instantly tugged back. Dr Slade shoves me behind him and Dex, both of them stepping forward to shield me. I gasp shakily, conflicted.
“You’re not laying another finger on him, Voss!”
Dr Slade—
“Let the boy go, Slade—”
“Over my dead body!” he spits, “And that’s one thing that cannot be arranged!”
“Yeah, you’ll have to get through both of us first, so back. Off.”
Dex’s defiance effectively shifts Dr Voss’s focus towards him. He folds his arms, narrowing his eyes at his now former assistant.
“Of course. How could I forget about you, Dexter?” he begins disappointedly, “I must admit, you certainly had me convinced with your little ‘apprentice act’.”
He takes a step forward, keeping his tone impressively level. “You were never even approved to partake in the Pembrooke Partnership Programme in the first place, were you?”
Dex just scowls at him. The colour begins to fade from his face.
“What can I say? I’m renowned for being annoyingly persistent,” he responds coolly, “By the way, hacking into that system was child’s play. You might want to hire some new admin staff next time. You know, people that are actually competent?”
Dr Voss’s left eye twitches in frustration.
“...regardless of that, it still doesn’t explain why you chose to come here. I’m very interested to hear your motives for such a move.”
“Oh yeah? Well I’m very interested to hear how you think that human experimentation is suddenly completely legal here.”
“...I have no idea what you’re talking about, Dr Simmons.”
“Then let me rephrase that for you, Voss: Go directly to Hell.”
I struggle to keep track of the conversation, watching them go back and forth. That’s when I notice something out of the corner of my eye.
“D-Dex…your leg...”
My startled cry quickly gets his own attention, his eyes widening. Soft blue light gently licks over the bloody hole in Dex’s shin. My gaze shifts from the now glowing wound, to the suddenly uneasy expression on his face. Given the stunned murmurs around us, it’s clear that I’m not the only one seeing this.
“I-it’s fine, kiddo. It’s how I work.”
“But…h-huh?”
The next time I blink, it looks as if the wound has…almost completely cleared up. Blood still stains the fabric of his pant leg at the bullet’s entry point, but otherwise the actual bleeding has stopped. It almost looks as if the tissues have knitted themselves back together.
Just like Dr Slade’s earlier—!
“Well well, aren’t you full of surprises, Dexter?”
Dr Voss seems to have already recovered. His initial shock is now replaced by clear fascination. “I should have seen it from the start. It certainly explains your attempts to sabotage my research behind my back—”
“Pretty sure you and I have completely different definitions of what qualifies as ‘research’, you—”
“And now I understand why those procedures disturbed you as much as they did,” he continues, still smiling, “You’re a sanitatem, aren’t you?”
My eyebrows furrow in confusion.
Sani-what-now?
“No, I’m obviously the damn tooth fairy!” he snaps, a slight waver to his words, “You know, you should probably get those glasses reviewed once in a—”
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he interrupts, unfazed, “in which case...this actually changes things quite a bit for you, Dexter.”
The younger doctor stares back at him. Traces of fear are already beginning to flicker behind his eyes. “It really is a shame. I had a lot of faith in you, my boy— and this is how you repay me? After everything I’ve done for you?”
He jerks his head, his voice cold. “I’m disappointed in you, Dexter.”
“Oh believe me, the feeling’s more than mutual, ‘Doc’.”
An impatient expression begins to creep across Dr Voss’s face. Clearly he’s had enough of this back-and-forth.
“...we shall discuss this further in my office,” he answers coolly, “Now I shall give you one last chance to release my patients. If you do not, then we will be forced to take...alternative measures.”
I peer helplessly between the different doctors, painfully conflicted. I’m half-expecting another quip or insult, but both of my companions stay silent. They just glare hatefully back at my psychiatrist. Both of our groups square each other up. The weapons remain raised. The other two are uncomfortably tense. No one knows who is going to make the first move.
Who is right? Who is wrong? Who am I supposed to trust?!
The silence continues, until I feel the older doctor nudge my shoulder.
“Take the card and run,” he whispers, just loud enough for me to hear, “Run as if your life depends on it.”
About two metres from Dex’s feet, I notice the discarded ID card lying on the ground. My eyes widen in understanding.
Is he telling me to…?
“B-but Dr Slade—”
“We’ll be fine. Just get yourself out.”
Confused tears fill my eyes again. I seriously want to throw up right now.
“Last warning, Dexter.”
The uniforms take a step forward. I glance from the door, to Dr Voss’s face, to the card and back again. Dex sends me a faint nod. I suck in a fearful breath, left with two impossible choices.
Dr Voss…or the door? Trust him…or trust them?
The seconds drag by. My head pangs with pain. It tells me to do one thing. My gut tells me the opposite. The tears start to slip down my cheeks as I battle with fact — my psychiatrist who is trying to make me better — and fiction — the supposed ‘supers’ who are willing to risk their own freedom to save me.
Fact or fiction — Fact or fiction?
It only takes a few more seconds. Forcing away the last shred of doubt, I make my choice.
“...thanks, Dr Slade.”
My hands prickle by my sides. This time, I don’t fight it. I let it overtake me, glowing as bright as it possibly can — and let it fly.
“Wha—Ashley!”
I don’t wait. I dive for the card, snatching it up viciously. The green light blinds them all for a few seconds — but it’s still a few seconds. Taking the unexpected advantage, Dr Slade and Dex surge forwards, gaining the upper hand to strike back against the recovering uniforms. My companions block them, leaping straight into the action. Dealing with the nearest guard, Dr Slade shoves me in the direction of the exit, yelling after me.
“Go, Lightbug! GO!”
There’s no turning back now. With no other choice, I bolt for the door. I can hear them behind me, hollering and shrieking. I look back once, but they’re already out of sight, lost amongst the sea of uniforms. They’re hot on my heels, but I use every last bit of strength to make it to the door — that one single door between us and freedom.
Don’t look back, don’t look back—!
My hands all but slam against the metal. I fumble with the card in my hand. My fingers are slick with sweat as I shove it against the scanner. It instantly chimes in acceptance, the gate grinding open—
“Stop him! Stop him!”
Ignoring Dr Voss’s desperate calls, I dart through the open gate. The world is lost in a disorientating blur. I start scrambling through the tunnel, towards the light, towards—
“Ack!”
They’re already in front of me. I register the sudden sting in my arm, but it’s too late. More uniforms are right there, waiting behind the gate.
No—!
My legs instantly feel weaker. Their distorted faces show no compassion as they converge on me, forcing me the short distance back into the basement. Almost tripping over, I stagger back outside. Dr Slade and Dex are nowhere to be seen amongst the haze filling my eyes. I feel like I can hear them, distant, shouting out my name.
“Dr Slade! Dex! He—ack!”
My face collides with the floor. Something presses down on me, hard. Rough hands grab at my wrists, wrenching them behind my back. I yelp, squirming weakly as I try to fight against them.
“Hold him down!”
“N-no! No! Let me—nngh!”
Green flashes around me. One of the uniforms growls in pain. Every move to resist is sluggish. They have me pinned down, firm against the ground, barely able to move. “Stop it — nngh — Gnngh—!”
“Get the needle — now!”
“No! No no NO!”
Another anguished cry slips free. The hands continue forcing me down, until the patterns on the floor form a painful imprint on my cheek.
“How much do you want, Doc?”
Even with the world tilted on its side, I can still make him out, standing just a metre away. Out of sheer terror, I cry out for him.
“Dr Voss! Please — nngh — d-don’t let them—!”
“It’s in your best interests, Ashley.”
He folds his arms across his chest, staring down at me with…chilling disappointment. Lead settles in my stomach as he finally breaks his gaze. “Give him one milligram IM, stat. That should be enough to settle him down.”
“No, don’t! Don’t—no! No—hnnk!”
A cold unfamiliar sensation gushes through my veins. The effects work frighteningly quickly. My limbs refuse to cooperate. A dull heavy feeling spreads throughout my body. I barely have the energy to move at all, even just to tilt my head.
“Lightbug — Lightbug—!”
My head becomes heavier. The drug works its way through my system, forcing me to slip away. It’s impossible to fight it. My slurred attempt at his name is soon lost in my growing lack of alertness.
I’m…sorry…Dr…Sla…de…
With one last cry, our hope fades into darkness.
And now the fun begins~
Thank you so much to everyone who has stuck through to this point, it honestly means so much and I really hope (even if it was predictable) that the payoff was worth it :D I tried so hard to avoid a cliche reveal but hopefully did it justice. It looks like Dr Voss will be making a few...adjustments to Ash's treatment plan from here on :O I won't give anything away, but expect some (hopefully!) juicy med-whump in the next couple chapters ;)
Once again, have a wonderful weekend and take care of yourselves, lovelies! Sending love and best wishes :D xx
T/W: Forced administration, vomiting, self-harm, electric shocks
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“You good over there, kiddo?”
I jerk my head up from the table with a yelp. Blinking rapidly, I soon recognise the ponytailed doctor behind me, observing me curiously.
“Wh-wha—oh, Dr Simmons…!”
Groaning, I pull myself up. Both of my shoulders ache from my terrible posture. Several scrumpled colouring pages lie trapped under my arms in a barely completed mess. “S-sorry, I guess I fell asleep again.”
“Hey, nothing wrong with a quick power nap — although a bed would be more comfy.”
“Heh, probably.”
He smiles cheerily, dropping into the empty chair opposite me. The scraping of wood against the floor is accompanied by the animated background chatter of the TV. I recognise a few of the ‘zombies’ sitting around it, staring up at the colourful animations with child-like smiles of amusement.
“So, how’s everything going with your treatment?” the younger doctor asks, “Nothing odd or weird that you’ve noticed?”
“...not really,” I answer casually, “No side effects. Nothing like the last one.”
“Good, good. That’s all good~”
He clasps his hands under his chin, “But if there is anything that feels off — even the teeniest little thing — then you can tell me, okay?”
Can I, though? Can I really tell him?
“I um…”
I hesitate, biting my lip. Dr Simmons watches me patiently as I try to get my words out. “...actually, there is something, Dr Simmons — the hallucinations are back.”
“If you don’t mind me asking...what do those usually look like for you, buddy?”
“...lights, prickling sensations, loud thoughts — and then the other day I even saw my friends from the old hospital I was at, even though I know for a fact that they never came here.”
Although I haven’t seen them since that one time in the garden. Maybe it was just a bad day after all?
“Oof, that doesn’t sound fun,” he murmurs thoughtfully, “Hey listen — do me a favor and keep an eye on those, yeah? If they get any worse, then you tell me right away. I promise I won’t judge, not when I’m here to get you out of this mess.”
I blink back at the younger doctor gratefully, resting my elbows against the cold table.
“...thanks, Dr Simmons.”
“Anytime, Ash — oh, that reminds me.”
He clicks his fingers dramatically. “I heard something about room inspections tomorrow, so you might want to make sure yours is spick and span before they come around to judge it. Just a friendly tip to help you get more points~”
They sure pick their times.
“Got it. I’ll give it a quick whizz around later,” I add, picking up one of the pencils, “but first I should finish this thing — without falling asleep again.”
“Heh, I’ll leave you to it then, kiddo.”
Shooting me a smile, Dr Simmons rises up from the chair, tossing his ponytail over his shoulder. I send him a tired nod back, reaching for my former page—
“Oh and uh…just watch yourself, okay?”
For a single moment, the playful spark in his eyes vanishes. The young doctor’s usually friendly smile bears an unnerving glint as he leans across the table. “Don’t go getting into any trouble now.”
Before I can ask him anymore, he steps away from the table and hurries away down the corridor.
That was…weird.
Warily watching him leave, I try to focus on my half-finished colouring, although my mind is on anything but that task right now. After another half an hour of absent-minded scribbling, I decide to call it a day. After being escorted back to my room by one of the nurses, I attach the non-finished colouring of my mandala pattern to the wall with more glittery Washi-Tape. Surprisingly, I’ve accumulated quite the collection of colouring pages during my admission.
Alright, time to tidy up a bit.
It’s the last thing I want to do, but procrastinating won’t help me either. With a sigh, I begin to work my way through the room via my usual system-based approach. Each part forms an individual tick-box in the chore checklist, making it much more manageable.
Desk — check.
Closet — yep.
Bed — tomorrow.
Draws — got it.
Tiredly, I begin dusting off my bedside table with one of the towels from the bathroom. I replace the lamp, grab my discarded hairbrush and open my drawer to—
Wait — what’s this?
A crumpled piece of paper sits in the bottom of the draw. Dropping my brush, I pull out the folded page, squinting in confusion.
I…don’t remember leaving this in here. Unless I did? Or did someone else—wait, what even is it?
Swallowing, I slowly begin to unfold it. Opening it up, I’m greeted by a messy scrawl that I don’t recognise. It only contains four words. As I read them, I release a sharp gasp.
No. No this can’t—no!
Both of my hands start to shake. The note flutters almost gracefully to the floor. I fall back on the bed, my mind racing.
What. The. Heck?!
No matter where I look, I still see the words. Four simple words that fill me with dread.
DON’T TAKE THE MEDS
“Alright, kiddo, you know the drill.”
I almost don’t hear Pierce as he hands me my nightly pill pot. My fingers stiffly accept it, bringing the pot close to my face.
Don’t take the meds.
The warning is more than clear. Silently, I peer into the pot, taking a mental note of every last tablet — their colour, their shape, even their indication. I know they’ve been playing around with doses and other drugs to ensure there are no negative interactions with the new experimental treatment, but I haven’t questioned it that much.
Until tonight.
Only a nurse or doctor could have left that note. Why? Because they are the only ones with key cards to get into our rooms — fact. I certainly didn’t write that note, so that means...
I bite my lip hesitantly. Doubts begin to fester in my stomach.
But if the meds are meant to make me better…then why do they not want me to take them?
“Everything okay?”
“Y-yeah, just…checking it’s all there.”
Stay calm. Act natural.
My mind is torn. If someone hadn’t left that stupid warning then I wouldn’t even be questioning this right now. I just want to go to bed and Pierce probably just wants to get on with his drug round, but I still don’t know what to do. Even after going back and forth the past hour, I still don’t know.
But I need the meds to get better — fact. That much is definitely fact.
I raise the pot to my lips. The mental battle continues to rage in my head. Otherwise, the ward is quiet. No sound from my neighbour either. My hand hovers awkwardly in front of my face.
No — don’t take them. If someone left that warning, then they must know something. Krissy didn’t trust them either. Neither does Dr Slade. Maybe you shouldn’t either—
“What’s taking so long, Ash?”
Pierce peers at me curiously. His voice carries more concern than annoyance. “Normally you have no problem with them. Is something wrong?”
I don’t answer him, still unsure what to say. “They’re all the same as last night’s. I checked them all myself before I came in here. It’s all on your charts, just like normal.”
“I…”
My throat closes up a little. Licking my lips, I begin to lower my hand.
Pierce is nice. He’ll understand.
“I-I’m not feeling too good, Pierce. I’m sorry, I just...I feel really queasy all of a sudden.”
The nurse sends me a sympathetic glance.
“That’s okay. Take some small sips of water and a couple of nice deep breaths. Maybe even try taking one at a time, if that helps?”
Shakily, I reach for the glass of water and take a few sips. Then, I pluck a random pill from the bottom of the pot and hold it to my lips.
Maybe I can make it look like I took it?
I decide to try my luck, even my swallow, whilst shifting the pill in my mouth.
“Open up.”
Reluctantly, I obey his instruction, ignoring the current humiliation.
Don’t see it, don’t see it—
“Lift up your tongue, Ash.”
Oh crap!
I give my head a pleading shake. Pierce just sighs at my refusal.
“Look, I know you’re hiding it. Just admit it already.”
“Ugh—fine!”
I spit the soggy pill back into the pot, tearing up a bit. “I don’t want to take them — not tonight!”
Pierce’s eyes widen slightly.
“But you have to take them— Kiddo, I don’t know what’s suddenly changed. You’ve been doing really well up until—”
“I’m sorry, Pierce. I just…I-I just can’t take them anymore. They’re making me feel bad.”
“I know side effects suck, but they’re to make you better—”
“Not tonight, Pierce.”
I push the pot back into his hands. “I’ll try again in the morning, just…not tonight.”
My nurse is quiet. He stares back at me with an unreadable expression. “P-please, Pierce?”
“...okay.”
His expression softens, almost into one of understanding. “I get it. You’re having a bad day — and that’s fine. Sometimes we just…need a little extra help.”
I blink back at him as he takes a step forward, still smiling. “So let me help you out, kiddo.”
“Th-thanks, Pierce...thanks so—mmgh?!”
It all happens way too quickly. The hand clamped over my mouth. Sharp pain in my back as I’m shoved into the wall. A second hand pinning me against it. My own pained wheezes. Pierce’s face right in front of me, glaring into my tear-filled eyes.
“...let’s try that again.”
His voice grates harshly as he loosens his hold on me — just enough to grab the pill pot again. Holding it right to my face, he finally lets go of my mouth—
“P-Pierce what are you—aghck!”
The whole pot is emptied down my throat. I gag, choking on the tablets. Pierce covers my mouth again, his grip much tighter.
“There we go,” he responds in a chillingly calm tone, “Just take your meds. Swallow them all down. That’s it.”
I try to shake my head, attempting to spit them out. The hold on my mouth becomes almost painful.
“Nmmgh!”
I whimper, kicking him in the knee to make him let me go, but he’s much stronger. Every struggle only seems to annoy him even more.
“I said…swallow.”
Before I can react to his furious hiss, there’s a sudden pressure over my nose. I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe—!
No—no—hkk!
The room starts to spin. My nose remains pinched shut. I try to fight it. I try to struggle, but I’m already slipping away. Before I can stop myself, I swallow. Every last one of my meds passes down my throat. Only then does his grip leave my face, allowing me to collapse in a heap on the floor. The ground pulses in front of my eyes. Both of my hands smack uselessly against it. I lean forwards, retching and coughing. Pierce just stands in front of me, watching my whole pathetic display.
“Good boy.”
I almost see a smirk on his lips. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
Black spots continue to dance before my eyes. All of my energy begins to leave me. All I can do is splutter helplessly.
“Y-you…wh-wha…wh-why…nngh…”
“I did it for your own good, kiddo,” my nurse answers simply, all sinister traces now gone from his voice, “You were acting up. That’s not like you at all. You just needed some help, which I gave to you.”
He carefully crouches down to my level. Reaching out a hand, he gives my hair a tiny mocking ruffle. “You’ve been doing so well, you know. Everyone’s been working really hard to help you.”
He smiles at me. “You wouldn’t want to spoil all that hard work by acting up now, would you?”
I wordlessly shake my head. I can’t string a single thought together right now. “Heh, didn’t think so. Just keep on being a good model patient and we’ll have no other problems, right?”
Pierce’s voice starts to fade. The signature enthusiasm returns to his voice. “Have a good night, kiddo! You’ve got another busy day tomorrow~”
That’s the last thing I hear before my head hits the ground.
“Ashley — did you hear — Ashley?”
I return to reality with a jolt. The plastic tubing in my arm reminds me of my ongoing treatment. It flows smoothly through the bag, directly into my bloodstream with a mild sting. Blinking, I turn my head to the side. It doesn’t take me long to notice Dr Voss’s troubled expression.
“H-huh?”
“...were you actually paying attention to anything I just said?”
“No, I um…I-I’m sorry, I…”
I avert my gaze, ashamed. The past couple days have been…not great. Ever since the incident with Pierce — which was apparently all in my head again — things have just gotten worse.
“There’s something distracting you, isn’t there?”
“I-I’m fine, really—”
“You know how much I dislike lies, Ashley.”
My doctor moves a little closer, studying me with concern.
Mind. Over. Matter.
“..o-okay,” I finally admit, “you got me.”
“I thought as much.”
He moves to sit on the edge of the treatment couch, peering down at me without any element of judgement. “Whatever it is, you can tell me, my boy.”
I don’t immediately answer, choosing my words carefully.
“I…I-I think I’m getting worse.”
“In what way?”
“Every way — the thoughts, the brainfog, the prickling, the meds—”
“Wait—slow down, Ashley. What about the medication is making you worse?”
His frown deepens. “Are the side effects getting too much for you?”
Do I tell him? Or will he just get mad at me?
I flex my fingers, breaking through the negative thought-stream.
“...I just don’t think they’re helping me anymore,” I admit quietly, “They just mess up my head even more. That’s why I’ve been…well, not really taking them properly, ever since I found that note and—”
“What note?” the doctor interrupts, sitting up a little straighter, “What did it say?”
I wrap my arms around myself for comfort.
“I-I don’t know who wrote it, but it told me to…to not take my meds.”
My breathing quicks. I rest my chin on top of my knees, hugging myself even tighter. “A-and Pierce — my nurse — when I said no, he forced them down my throat and—”
“Wait—Dean did that?” he repeats, leaning forwards, “That’s…quite a troubling accusation, Ashley.”
“That’s what the head nurse said when I told her. As if I’d just made it up or something.”
“But Ashley—”
“That’s what happened,” I insist, blinking back tears, “I swear I’m not lying, Dr Voss.”
“I know,” he reassures me, “and I know you well enough by now to know you would never simply make up anything of this nature, or severity.”
He clicks his pen thoughtfully. “Have you spoken with Dean since then?”
“...only this morning,” I mumble, “It was the first time I’ve seen him since the other night. I…kinda lashed out at him about it and he got pretty upset. Then that—that just made me question it again, like—like I don’t know what’s what anymore or—!”
I gasp a little, my chest tightening with panic.
“Deep breaths, Ashley,” Dr Voss advises me firmly, “Just settle down for a minute, alright?”
I try to follow his instructions, sucking in as deep a breath as I can. “Good boy. First — the note. I have no idea who put it in your room, but its message was clearly a harmful one. The medicines you are on are supposed to help you. It’s very important that you do take them, because if you don’t comply with your treatment, then how can you expect to get better?”
His voice is calm, but I know he must be at least a little disappointed in me. “If anything, the reason you are feeling worse is actually because you are not taking the medication, rather than as a result of it.”
He tilts his head. “If I may ask, how have you been concealing them?”
“... flushing them down the toilet,” I admit quietly, “The weekend nurses weren’t the most thorough in their checks.”
“I see.”
At his semi-understanding response, I try to blink the tears from my eyes. “And then that leads us to the second point — this whole incident with Dean. I do think the fact that you’ve been skipping your medications hasn’t helped her, especially when fact and fiction blur together.”
Dr Voss sends me a sympathetic look. “Of course I will investigate it, but I am sure it was just a misunderstanding, alright? Our nurses are professionally trained by a strict code of conduct. None of them would ever handle a situation like that.”
My stomach twists painfully.
See? All in your head again. Just as they said—
“But I do wish you had told me about this sooner,” he emphasises, “Of course you’re going to be suffering if you’re not complying with your medication.”
He clasps his hands together. “And you’ve been doing so well with your treatment plan up until now — but the only way that you will continue to make progress is to remain compliant with it. We can only do so much for you, Ashley — you have to do your own bit towards your recovery as well.”
“...I know.”
“Then we need to make sure that we change things, don’t we?” he asks, sending me a small smile, “We can make you better — that’s what you still want, isn’t it?”
“M-mhmm…”
“Of course you do — and we want that too, so let’s all do our bit to help each other out, alright?”
His voice is unwavering with determination. I feel myself tearing up again.
You’re never going to be fixed. You’re unfixable.
“Yes, Dr Voss.”
I fall silent after that. I keep my head pressed against my knees, waiting until I can finally be released. The thoughts continue to rage. The prickles start to spread. I try to ignore all of the signs, deliberately counting each of my breaths.
Mind. Over. Matter — Mind. Over. Matter.
The infusion takes forever to flush through. As soon as it’s finished, they remove the line and call the nurses to take me back to my room. Tats and Pierce arrive to collect me. I still avoid looking at the latter as they escort me back to Poplar Ward. Dr Voss’s last words are muffled and disconnected. I don’t even hear him properly. I just keep my gaze to the ground and keep putting one foot in front of the other until we’re back at my room.
“Here we are,” Tats states, guiding me back inside. “We’ll be back shortly with your meds before lunch time. Anything we can get for you, kiddo?”
“...no. I’m good.”
As the two of them turn away, I suddenly change my mind. “Wait, Pierce, I…”
I pause for a moment, meeting his questioning blue eyes. “I-I’m sorry for lashing out at you earlier about…y-you know.”
“Hey, it’s okay. Just a misunderstanding, right?”
He shoots me a small smile with an unoffended thumbs up. “I’m glad you see that now, kiddo. You know we’d never do anything to hurt you, don’t you?”
“...mhmm.”
Satisfied, both of them leave me alone. Exhausted, I drop down onto my bed. With no other distractions, the thoughts begin to amplify.
Stop being so friggin’ paranoid! You’re only doing this to yourself! It’s your fault, no one else’s.
I clench my teeth. My hands wrap around my arms as I try to focus on my breathing again. Naturally, that doesn’t stop the self-hatred spiral blaring through my head.
And look, they haven’t called — again. No one cares about you. No one loves you. Why would they? You’re just a waste of space. Lashing out at the people trying to help you. That’s the only thing you’re good at.
The faces from my photos — my family and friends — all leer back at me.
“What’s wrong with you?!”
Aunt June’s tearful cry tears through my mind. I feel my breathing picking up. Shame threatens to engulf me.
You were doing so well up until now. Why do you have to ruin everything? You — stupid — stupid — freak!
Warmth spills out from under my nails. I rake them down my arms, again and again, as if that will somehow control the volume, or soothe the internal pain—
Why even bother? You’ll never fit in again, no matter what you do.
“Nngh!”
The prickles return. They burn fiercely in my hands
No, no no — not now, not now, go away — go away!
My heart races in panic. Tears spill over my cheeks. I dig my rough nails even deeper into my flesh, trying to make them stop. I’m barely even aware of the superficial sting of air against my exposed skin.
Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real—nngh!
I curl up into a ball driving my hands against my head in a desperate attempt to block it all out. In my desperation, I remember Dr Voss’s lessons and try to fight back.
“Nngh — I-I’m a good person,” I whisper hurriedly,, “I’m loved. I’m safe. Just — just take the meds. Be good. No tricks. No setbacks. I-I’m going to be fine. Everything will be fine—”
Liar.
At that terrifying thought, I dissolve into a bawling mess.
I don’t know how long it takes until the thoughts finally go away. All I know is that the meds provide blissful relief. Whatever they had ended up giving me helped quieten them all down, just like that.
Of course I feel better after my meds. Just like he said I would. He’s always right.
My eyelids are especially heavy. I am mentally and physically drained. Even the room has an odd glaze to it, the lights being especially shiny. I lie flat on my back, holding Nezzy to my chest. My arms still sting slightly from the antiseptic solution, the cuts now dressed in fresh bandaids. Tats helped to clean me up after my…episode. He also made a point of removing anything sharp from my room that I could use to further hurt myself.
Can’t be too careful, I guess.
Exhausted, I stare up at the ceiling. I soon occupy myself with counting the number of coloured flecks I can see, just for something to do whilst I have zero energy. I’ve hit fifty–six by the time my eyes start to drift closed.
Fifty seven — fifty eight — fifty…nine…
Beep
Wha…door?
I peel my eyes open at the unexpected sound, fighting the heavy feeling. The grogginess gradually fades when I realise that I don’t recognise the person in my doorway.
“Wh-who are—”
“Hush.”
The familiar accent makes my eyes widen.
Wait...Dr Slade? What—what is he doing in my—huh?
I watch in complete confusion as my neighbour wordlessly enters my room. Without even looking at me, he strides towards my desk, snatches up the decorative owl plush toy sitting in the corner, randomly tosses it on the ground…and stomps down on its head — several times.
That makes me more alert.
“What the—what are you doing?!” I hiss, very concerned about his behaviour right now.
Definitely not ringing any alarm bells—
“There, cameras all taken care of,” he announces casually, completely ignoring my gaping expression, “We don’t want to leave any evidence behind.”
He kicks the poor thing away, its head now mangled beyond repair. After rolling his shoulders a little, he finally has the decency — after breaking into my room — to meet my bewildered gaze. That’s when it occurs to me that this is technically our first time meeting face-to-face.
So this is my ‘totally sane’ neighbour, huh?
I’m…not quite sure how I was expecting him to look, but overall he looks oddly…normal? His messy waves of dark hair, scraped back bangs and thick slanted eyebrows are the first features that catch my eye. Following that is his long narrow nose and a pair of almond brown eyes that blaze with determination. They particularly stand out amongst his fair complexion, as well as his own oversized white uniform, practically identical to my own. As our eyes meet, I also feel a sense of…something? I’m not sure whether it’s compassion, or care…but it’s definitely something positive.
Not that any of it justifies this current crazy stunt.
“...Dr Slade,” I start slowly, keeping my voice as even as possible, “How did you just get into my room?”
“Oh easily — with this thing.”
He holds a thin object up to the light. Even in my current state, I recognise it instantly.
“That card—you stole that from one of the nurses?!”
“I prefer to think of it as borrowing,” he replies, tucking it into his pants, “Not that it matters. We need to go, now.”
“Go? What are you—hey, wait!”
I back up against the headrest as he approaches me, staring back at him in disbelief. “What are you talking about?”
“I mean us, lad — we need to leave. I am not staying here another day when my friends are still at Clancy’s mercy and this could be our only chance to—”
“You don’t get it, Dr Slade. I-I’m sorry, but we—we can’t just leave here. Not until we’re well enough. I-I know you’re scared, but…”
I trail off as he stares back at me. Helplessness fills his eyes as he takes in my skinny form.
“...you really don’t have a clue, do you?” he mutters, “They’ve brainwashed you that much…”
He shakes his head. I can only gawp back at him, unnerved.
What does he mean by—
“I’m sorry lad, but leaving you here isn’t an option. I’m not letting that maniac hurt you again, so you’re coming with me, no matter what.”
His tone suggests I don’t have a choice in the matter. I gulp, suddenly very uneasy.
Annnd there go the alarm bells again—wait, alarm!
My eyes fall on the little red buzzer on my bedside table. Dr Slade catches me looking at exactly the same time. A firm expression sweeps across his face.
“Ash,” he warns, taking a step closer, “Don’t do it.”
I glance at the buzzer, then the desperation blazing in his eyes. I swallow, making up my mind.
Sorry, Dr Slade.
I lunge for the button — except I’m not fast enough. My neighbour beats me to it.
“Let go!”
We both scrabble for the buzzer. His fingers close around it, victorious, pulling it right out of my hands — which is when I switch to Plan B.
“Help! HELP ME! HEL—mmgh!”
He moves a lot faster than I had expected. My open struggles against him are…completely useless. I’m suddenly a rag-doll, unable to properly aim my frantic kicks. He acts as if he’s barely affected by it, pinning me against his chest with ease. His other hand presses tightly over my mouth as he holds me close. Although tight, his grip isn’t painful.
“Shhh, shhh!” he hisses against my ear, “Just calm down, lad. Keep yer voice down for one—”
“Nmmgh MMGH!”
“Lad, I’m not going to hurt you! I promise! That’s the last thing I want to do, I swear!”
I toss my head about feebly, attempting to pull my wrists free to yank at the hand covering my mouth.
The nurses—where are the nurses?! They should be—
“Ash please!”
My cries fall silent. Maybe it’s the desperation, or the sincerity, or the genuine sense of fear in his voice. Whatever it is…it works. With a stunned gasp, I stop screaming. My limbs flop against my sides.
What is he—?!
“Thank you — look, I just…I need you not to scream...just for a minute, arite? I want you to listen to me — very carefully.”
Whimpering faintly against his hand, I force my head to nod. His grip on my mouth loosens a little, but I still don’t try to scream.
Ticking off the crazy guy next door is probably not a good idea!
“I need you…to trust me,” he starts, speaking in a hushed tone, “I know you don’t believe me. I know you’re scared of me—”
You’re not exactly helping right now!
“—but I haven’t told you a single lie since I got here. This place is not what you think it is. You think you’re the problem, but you’re not. He’s the one that has told you that. He’s the one that has made you believe that.”
Dr Slade takes a deep breath. I remain unresisting, listening with wide eyes. “They keep saying you’re safe here — but you’re not. None of us are. That’s why we need to get out now. So we can tell everyone about this place and save all the other innocent people trapped here as well.”
I give my head a small shake. My neighbour sighs. “Ah know. It’s hard to take in — but think about it, lad. Haven’t you noticed anything strange at all, anything that might suggest something bigger is going on here?”
…I know he’s deluded, but I can’t deny that last statement entirely.
The hallucinations. Krissy’s warning. The meds. Pierce’s ‘attack’ — but that’s all just—!
“I don’t have time to go into it all now, but I promise I’ll explain it later, arite? Right now, this is our best chance to make a move. I’ve got the card, which will get us past all of the doors, out of the ward and out of this bloody institute.”
But I’m not ready — I still need the treatment, don’t I?
“I just…I just want what’s best for you, lad.”
His words…surprise me. They’re exactly the same words that Dr Voss had told me. What they had all said — but something feels different about the way Dr Slade says it.
He…means it. As deluded as he is, he really does care about me—
“And if it comes to the worst outcome, then it was all my idea and I took you against your will. All you need to do is follow my lead and we’ll be out of here before you know it, arite?”
I don’t reply to him immediately. My heart thumps against my ribs as I consider his paranoid words. Somehow, I know he won’t hurt me, but playing into his delusions might do more harm than good.
But what if he has a point? What if all of this has been…a lie?
“Okay. I’m going to take my hand away now. No screaming. No running off. No dangerous risks, arite?”
Logically, I should start screaming for the nurses as soon as we get outside, but something else tells me…maybe I shouldn’t. Something in my gut. This…this feeling. I can’t even describe it — but right now, it’s giving me one clear instruction.
Trust him.
Still heavily conflicted, I reluctantly incline my head. His hand instantly leaves my mouth and I take a grateful gasp of air.
“W-we’re going to get in so much trouble,” I almost whisper, half-hugging myself, “Dr Slade, this is a really bad idea. I don’t want you to—”
“I already told you — don’t worry about me.”
With my ‘cooperation’, he seems to visibly relax. “I’ll give you one minute. Grab only what you can carry. After that, we’re getting out of here.”
He’s not joking around with this…
The clock is ticking. I grab my satchel from my closet and tear a few precious photos from the wall. My book and Nezzy follow, stuffed safely inside the bag before I zip it up. In the meantime, Dr Slade decides to check out the bathroom, for some random reason.
“Come over here when you’re done.”
Best not get on his bad side.
Slinging my satchel across my body, I shuffle over to join him, surprisingly wobbly on my legs. He meets my gaze with a serious frown.
“One more thing. Did you take your lunchtime meds?”
“Y-yeah?” I answer uneasily, “Why?”
“...I’m so sorry for this, lad.”
I don’t notice the item behind his back until it’s too late. The same item — my own toothbrush — is suddenly forced down my throat, instantly triggering my gag reflex with a rush and a roar. Acid burns my tongue. I squeeze my eyes closed, hot tears spilling down my cheeks. The stench only makes me throw up even more.
“Nngh…gnngha…”
“Shhh, that’s it. That’s it. It’s all out. You’re okay.”
He rubs my back almost soothingly. Even as I sit there — arms trembling and still gagging from the wretched taste in my mouth — my surroundings are already starting to feel…different. The fog is lifting. Everything around me is suddenly clearer. My mind feels sharper. I have…energy again.
But...how? I don’t...no way—!
“Here, take some sips of this. It’ll help your throat.”
Part of me wants to slap it out of his hand, but even I can’t deny the sudden improvement in my mental clarity. Accepting the plastic cup, I gratefully swig it off, swill out my mouth and spit it out into the toilet bowl. “I bet you feel better already, don’t you?”
“...actually, yes,” I admit shakily, pulling myself up again, “H-how did you know?”
“Doesn’t matter,” he dismisses, helping me to my feet, “Do you still think I’m making all of this up?”
I can’t bring myself to answer him just yet. If I do, it means questioning everything else that I’ve been told. My head can’t handle that right now. One thing at a time.
“...h-how far do we have to go?”
“Hopefully not too far — but first we need to get off this ward.”
He nudges me towards the door. “Let’s go. You should have a much clearer head now.”
Without a word, I follow after my neighbour. He guides me by the hand out of my room, his other carrying the ID card. Checking left and right, he pulls me after him, out into the corridor.
“Arite, we need to move quickly, but quietly. If someone passes by, we dip out of sight until they’re gone, arite?”
“O-okay.”
“Good lad. Now follow me.”
Against my better judgement, I do. I know I could easily scream for help right now, but the last few minutes have definitely given me a new…perspective on things. Instead, I stay close to his side, watching warily for any dangers. Our impromptu-stealth mission takes us the longer way around the ward, where we’re less likely to be seen. Dr Slade’s grip on my hand tightens as we almost run into a group of nurses at their assigned posts. We duck behind walls. We’re forced to backtrack more than a few times. Adrenaline seeps through me with every step we take. From my neighbour’s own tense posture, it’s clear I’m not the only one who’s nervous.
“There are so many nurses,” I breathe, “You still think we’ll make it to the doors?”
“Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” he mutters, “Nice and quiet now. It looks like they’re moving away.”
Sure enough, the nurses begin to filter off in different directions around us. Even after that, we continue to stay low. Cautiously, we begin making our way past the kitchen. I’m as confused as ever, my mind whirring with unanswered questions as we keep pressing towards the ward entrance.
“Wait—get down!”
He pulls me with him to the ground, half-shielding my fall. Thinking fast, both of us scramble behind the thankfully unoccupied front desk as Tats and Pierce enter the ward again. I cover my mouth to muffle a startled cry, picking out a small piece of their conversation as they pass.
“—the sooner we take him to get prepped for the extraction, the sooner we can go on break.”
“Fine, let’s just get this over with. Hopefully the drugs have kicked in by now. The kid should be too out of it to put up much of a—”
Their conversation fades with them as they disappear down the corridor. I feel my insides twisting uncomfortably at their…particular choice of words.
“Those are your nurses aren’t they?”
“Y-yeah,” I murmur, “uh, what did they mean by…extraction?”
Dr Slade just grits his teeth.
“...let’s not stick around to find out.”
Shuddering, I hurriedly crawl out from under the desk. Unfortunately, there are no more blind spots to hide behind between that and the door — and it isn’t long until Pierce’s distant shouts alert the rest of the ward.
Now they know I’m missing!
“Bloody hell!”
My neighbour hisses, shoving me forwards. “Ash, the doors — get to the doors!”
The panic alarm from my room begins to blare. Footsteps ring out from all directions, now hurried and frantic. My chest tightens, fully aware that soon everyone will be looking specifically for me—
“There!”
The ID card swipes across the scanner’s surface. It registers with a cheerful beep. The doors yawn open. Our way out becomes clear—
“Hey—down here! He’s down here! By the entrance! Hurry!”
I spin around, instantly on edge at the panicked yells. Even more voices holler after us.
“There! Don’t let them get away! Stop them!”
I knew this was a bad idea—!
“Oh for the love of—run, lad! Run!”
My neighbour drags me through the half-open doors. I sprint as fast as I can to keep up with him, panting. More shouts soon join the chorus behind us.
“Call security! Now!”
“D-Dr Slade, they’re—!”
“Ah know — this way!”
My legs stumble after him. Colours flash before our eyes. The Rec Area whizzes by. So does the canteen. Blurred figures demand us to stop. Hands try to grab us—
“Get out of our way!”
Dr Slade barges past multiple unarmed bystanders, yanking me along with him.
“Block off the stairs! Cut ‘em off!”
I hear him curse under his breath. He never lets go of my hand, not even once.
“Wh-where are we going?!” I demand fearfully.
“Up or down — whichever is easiest to—”
The screeching alarms drown out his words. One by one, the doors around us suddenly swing shut, locking instantly on contact.
What the—?!
“Enhanced security measures,” my companion growls, taking note of every direction, “They’re trying to box us in—we need to hide!”
“But where?!” I cry, daring a glance over my shoulder, “All the doors are—!”
“Anywhere, lad! Just—just follow me! Quickly!”
There’s no time to argue. I get a flash of the uniforms some way behind us. They’ll be on us soon.
Do as he says.
Ignoring the burning in my chest, I hurry alongside my fellow patient. His eyes frantically scan the doors. Growing panic enters his voice.
“No — no — definitely no — ah!”
He slams the ID card on the next available scanner.
Beep
“Finally — in here!"
Both of us squeeze through the gap, forcing ourselves inside the small room. As I sink against the wall breathlessly, Dr Slade slams the door behind us. Breathing heavily, he lowers himself to the ground next to me. The screeching and yelling is at least muffled by the door of our temporary sanctuary.
Thank God—
“Arite. We should be — safe here — for a wee bit.”
He runs a hand through his messy hair, taking a quick glance around. “Looks like we — found a storeroom. We’ll just — stay here for now, until it’s safe to go out again.”
“U-uhuh…”
Closing my eyes, I force myself to try and calm down.
Deep breath in — hold — and out. In — hold — and out.
“S-so,” I start, once I can properly talk again, “where do we go from here?”
“If we can make it out of this room, then we have two choices: up to the roof or down towards the lower levels.”
Thankfully we both have the sense to keep our voices hushed. “The latter seems more doable — and if they’re blocking off the stairs, then that just leaves us the elevator.”
“S-sounds risky.”
“It is, but we don’t have a choice — now keep quiet, I can hear them on the other side.”
Silently nodding, I press further back into the wall. Staying as still as a statue, we both listen to the sound of further footsteps and barking orders. The search for us is still very much underway. In an attempt to distract myself, I briefly take in the rows of labelled draws and cabinets around us. They probably hold a wide range of supplies and medical equipment. Sadly, most of them have a keyhole somewhere, no doubt requiring a member of staff to access them. However, I do notice one thing that might give us another option.
“Dr Slade,” I ask, as soon as the noises outside have died down again, “do you think we could reach that air vent?”
He squints for a moment, clearly not overly impressed at my suggestion.
“Nice try, but I don’t think we’ll be getting through that old thing anytime soon.”
“...but it always works for the heroes in the movies?”
“Aye — and we’re not in one lad,” he points out, “Look at it — do you really think that both of us would be able to squeeze through there? The movie air vents are always unrealistically oversized and miraculously soundproofed for plot convenience — and even if we could squeeze through, there’s bound to be all kinds of nasty things in there. That’s the part they never show you.”
Just like that, my hopes are dashed yet again.
“...so basically, don’t believe everything you see in the movies?” I summarise, wincing.
“Exactly, A mouse might be able to pass through just fine, but you and I? We wouldn’t stand a chance.”
So much for that idea—ack!
My hands fly to my neck. Something zaps across my throat. I close my fingers over it with a harsh cry. The skin feels warm, as well as surprisingly sore. Almost like…a burn.
“Gah!”
Dr Slade soon copies me, clutching at the choker around his own neck. I don’t know if it’s my imagination, but I can see literal blue sparks leaping off of one of the parts.
The chokers—what are they—agh!
Another painful jolt rushes through me. Eyes widening, I grab at my own choker, hooking my fingers between the skin and the metal. Electricity pulses through it, stinging me.
“Nngh—the collars—I forgot all about the bloody—AGH!”
He leans against the wall, clenching his teeth. I notice the subtle jerking of his limbs as the shocks pass through him. Immediately there’s a sudden rush of footsteps towards the storeroom. My face pales.
There is no way they didn’t hear that!
“D-Dr Slade! What’s happening?! How do we get these off of—NNGHA!”
The next shock tears through me. I fall onto my side, unable to control the twitching my own body. It’s enough to almost take my breath away. My own shrieks ring in my ears as I scrabble at the wretched thing, desperate to get it off.
What is this—why is it—why—?!
“Nngh—lad! Hold on, just — nngh — just hold on!”
I can just about see him, directly across from me. His own grimace doesn’t bode well. Even then — at the sound of my distressed sobs — he still tries to reassure me. “I’m sorry — nngh — I know it hurts but — but we have to get—!”
Beep
Our heads turn towards the door. Dr Slade recovers quicker than me. He valiantly drags himself over to my shaking form, attempting to cover my body.
“Get behind me.”
He bares his teeth at the two figures blocking the open doorway. I feel him tense against me as he addresses them. “Don’t you — nngh — come anywhere near us.”
“Oh we don’t need to.”
With an ugly sneer, the nearest one pulls out a small device from his white coat and taps it against his ear. “This is Tod. Stand down with the shocks. Both patients have been secured. Backup requested to the second floor and inform the doc that—”
“Don’t bother, Tod. I’ll deal with them.”
A familiar face steps forward. Peeking out from behind Dr Slade, I lock eyes with our second captor.
“Dr Simmons?” I stammer hopefully, “Wh-what are you—”
“Hush up, kiddo. Don’t make it worse for yourself.”
His uncharacteristically sharp tone instantly silences me. A choked cry slips free. Sensing my upset, Dr Slade reaches for my hand and squeezes it.
“Oh you’ve got some nerve, lad,” he growls, “and I bloody hope you're proud of yourself!”
“Just doing my job, Slade,” the young man replies, “Sorry, but I really can’t have any of our patients going AWOL behind our backs.”
He turns to his colleague. “Get them up. We won’t be needing any backup.”
The accompanying uniform nods.
“Got it. Hold fire on that backup. We’re okay.”
Taking a step forward he pulls out something from his belt. It looks…frighteningly like a gun. “On your feet. Resist and I’ll shoot.”
That’s not a real gun…is it?
Dr Slade reluctantly turns to me. His eyes fill with a helpless expression. The only positive about any of this is that the alarms outside have finally shut up.
“Just do as he says, lad.”
“B-but—”
“I said up!”
I flinch at the guard’s impatient bark. Squeezing my hand again, my former neighbour helps to guide me to my feet. I try to catch Dr Simmons’ eyes, but he seems to be deliberately ignoring us.
“Get them out of here. I’ll update the doc myself when he’s finished downstairs.”
He pauses for a moment. “Oh and Tod, I’m sorry.”
“What for—”
“This.”
Before either of us can blink, the uniform is staggering against the wall, groaning in pain. Seizing the moment, Dr Slade snatches up his fallen weapon, shoving me further behind him. Barely keeping my balance, I stare back at Tod’s reeling form. One hand clutches his side, the other gropes desperately for his fallen communication device — which is now resting in Dr Simmons’ hands.
“Y-you—what—?!”
His bumbling response is silenced by a sharp fist colliding with his jaw. I can only watch, completely stunned, as the uniform’s head jerks to the side. A last strangled gasp leaves him as collapses to the ground.
...what actually just happened?
“Nothing personal, Tod. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll just be taking—”
“Not so fast!”
The younger doctor’s eyes visibly dilate at the weapon suddenly being thrust in his direction. Dr Slade glares down at him, unbothered by his sudden babbling.
“H-hey, wait up a sec! Just let me explain—”
“Then answer me this — who are you and what do you want?”
The young doctor stops rooting through his colleague’s pockets for a moment. His gaze flickers from my own terrified eyes, to the unwavering frustration on my companion’s face.
“A-alright, alright, I’ll tell you everything—”
“Tod, report. Do you have the patients? Are you sure no backup’s required?”
Voices crackle out from the device in the blonde’s hand. Dr Slade threateningly clicks the trigger as the young man response—
“Dr Simmons speaking. We almost had them but they got away. Send some uniforms up to the third floor. It looked like they were heading up there. I’ll alert Dr Voss.”
Both of us blink back at him, perplexed by his sudden change.
“...got it. Heading up there now. Keep an eye out.”
The doctor’s shoulders visibly relax in relief.
He’s…not going to turn us in?
“Whew! That was a close call...uh, sorry, explanations right?”
He rubs the back of his neck with a sheepish laugh. Dr Slade doesn’t lower the gun, but the former distrust seems to be clearing from his eyes a little.
“...so you’re not going to call Voss?”
“And let that creepy doc keep on with his unethical ‘treatments’?” Dr Simmons answers, making exaggerated air quotation marks over that last word, “Nah, I think he’s had more than enough time to play with his ‘patients’.”
Dr Slade sighs in relief, but doesn’t back down yet.
“What’s your name, lad?”
“Oh, I’m Dex — Dexter Simmons,” he answers, glancing towards me, “I already know Ash pretty well and you’re Slade, right?”
“Dr Douglas Slade-McLaughlann, actually,” he corrects defensively, “I did not go through decades of medical training for my title to be ignored, thank you very much.”
“Aheh, my bad. Apologies, Doc — and I’m sorry about the whole apprentice-schtick as well. I would have acted sooner, but I had to be careful not to blow my cover too—”
“Wait—so you’re not a doctor?” I interrupt, struggling to process.
“Actually I am — three years fresh outta med school. Still got a long way to go.”
He starts rooting through the guard’s pockets again. “But that’s only a part of it, I guess—”
“So you were working undercover this whole time?” the older doctor asks, finally beginning to lower his weapon, “Why?”
Dr Simmons — Dex — lowers his voice.
“I’ve been trying to gather as much inside intel as possible on Pembrooke.”
Pembrooke? What’s—
“There've been a lot of shady stories about their facilities lately, which is where I come in. It’s been one heck of a mission so far, not really helped by the fact I’ve been running solo.”
An awkward smile flickers across his face. “Thinking back, I probably should’ve asked Benji or Eli for a hand since it has been some time since I did actual hero-work of this scale, but—”
“Wait—are you saying you’re a...?”
Dex hesitates for a moment.
“...sorta. It’s uh, a long story — but anyway, no time for chit-chat, we need to get you out of those—aha!”
He finally pulls back, triumphantly holding what looks like a small computer chip between his thumb and index finger. “Alright, you should have full use of your powers again in just a second so—”
“Wait—what powers?” I interrupt, frowning, “What are you talking about?”
I’ve heard enough of this from Dr Slade, but now Dr Simmons too?!
“...he doesn’t know, does he?”
Dex shares an awkward glance with my former neighbour. He only responds with a small shake of the head.
“Know what?” I ask, nerves spiking in my stomach, “Dr Simmons?”
He doesn’t reply straight away, wincing a little.
“...okay. How do I put this in the least mind-blowing way possible?”
I stare back at him with a raised eyebrow as he continues. “There’s really no easy way to say this. You’re uh…you’re not what you think you are, kiddo.”
What is he getting at?
“Then...what am I?”
Taking a deep breath, Dex looks me straight in the eyes.
“...a super.”
Ending on a wee bit of a cliffhanger ;) Thank you so much for taking the time to come this far to read and support my writing, it really means a lot to me and I'm so grateful for your time. I'm hoping to get back to my weekly update schedule although I am pretty wiped out after starting back at work again so I'll do my best! See you in the next chapter! Things are finally starting to get more juicy now for all you lovers of med-whump out there ;)
Have a wonderful weekend and take care of yourselves! See you soon and sending best wishes! xx
The next forty-eight hours are a drag. Naturally, I have to stay right where I am for the whole duration of it — doctor’s orders. I’m essentially kept in isolation, away from the other patients. Other than the small provided TV and my book, there’s nothing else for me to do. Staring at the analogue clock on the wall doesn’t get time to move any faster either. The hands just take their sweet time, trawling along like a pair of dozy snails. The team comes in throughout the day, alternating between taking my obs and getting more bloodwork — but that’s about it. No more treatment. No more sessions. Dr Voss was very insistent that I use this time to rest and completely recover first. Thankfully I’ve had no further episodes of…whatever that was. I’ll take that as a good sign — but other than the odd progress update and medical check-in...that’s it. I don’t really know what’s going on.
And there’s still no mention of ‘alternative options’ yet.
Eventually my observation period reaches its end. The monotony is broken by the arrival of Dr Voss and Dr Simmons. Apparently I need to have some scans before I can return to the ward. Probably part of the ‘further investigations’ he mentioned. I can’t exactly refuse.
Next stop: Imaging Suite.
“Is that too tight for you, Ashley?”
“N-no, it’s fine.”
I focus on my breathing, trying to ignore the surprisingly heavy fabric strap being secured across my chest, keeping my arms pinned to my sides. It perfectly matches the second strap cinched over my thighs, both secured with a soft click. Whilst they’re not excessively tight — and I have had similar scans before — the reduced ability to move still makes my heart quicken.
“Good — Dexter, the contrast tracer, please?”
“Right here, Doc.”
His footsteps patter around me as he grabs the necessary equipment. I can’t help but twist my head to the side a little, watching anxiously as he takes up a small syringe filled with a dark solution. It doesn’t look too different from the first thing that was injected into me about an hour ago. “Okay, I’m just going to slooowly inject this in now, okay buddy? Might feel a little cold, but it shouldn’t hurt.”
With that reassurance, he cleans the area, screws in the syringe and gently presses down on the plunger. The tracer-substance trickles straight into my veins, carrying only a mild sting as it flushes through my system. “Alright, we’ll give that a few minutes to start working and then get on with the scanning.”
“...will it take long?”
I’m very aware of the long narrow tunnel behind my head, the one that will soon engulf me. I’ve never been a fan of tight spaces — and that is definitely a tight space.
“It shouldn’t take longer than an hour,” Dr Voss answers, noticing the dread flickering in my eyes, “I know it looks daunting, but it’s very important that you try to relax and hold nice and still for us. That will guarantee us the clearest images, which will give us the greatest benefit going forwards, alright?”
‘Relax’ — sure.
“Easy for you to say.”
Surprisingly, Dr Voss just chuckles.
“Aha, I suppose you do have a point — which reminds me.”
He disappears for a moment, before returning with a set of sturdy looking headphones. “Do you have a particular genre of music you prefer? Pop, rock, or maybe classical?”
“Classical’s good. It reminds me of…when I used to play.”
“Ah, of course. You did mention you were a musician — violin, was it?”
“Viola,” I correct quietly, gladly taking the distraction, “I actually made it to grade four before I just…gave up.”
“I see,” he says sympathetically, “Well, it’s never too late to go back to it. Musical arts are very enriching for our mental health.”
“...maybe.”
I pause. “Do you play?”
“Piano. Twenty years now, although lately I haven’t really had the time to practise. It simply hasn’t been a priority in a long time—ah, here we are.”
He gingerly places them over my ears, muffling his words slightly. “Just close your eyes and take deep breaths. It will be over soon. Dexter, are we ready to start?”
“Yep, MET-3000 imaging all set and ready to go.”
“Alright — and remember, the emergency buzzer is right there if you need it. We’ll see you afterwards, Ashley.”
At the click of a button, the overpowering melody of Mozart begins blasting through my ears. It’s loud alright — but even that’s not enough to drown out the even louder whirring of the machine behind me. I barely have a chance to react. Before I know it, I’m already moving backwards, back into the waiting tunnel.
Here goes...
Slowly, the scanner swallows me. The bed clunks along, transporting me head-first into the darkness. My chest instantly tightens. Every breath feels more forced and panicked, especially at the image of those crushingly close walls around me—
A loud series of humming and buzzing fills my confined prison. I screw my eyes tightly shut, desperately trying to focus on my breathing. Shockingly, it’s not the easiest task — not when the overwhelming claustrophobia has you inches away from a panic attack.
Just like you’ve done before. Exactly the same. Mind. Over. The. Matter...
I count my breaths carefully, one by one. I manage to get into a rhythm, timing them in sync with the slow classical score ringing joyfully through the headphones.
Five — nngh — six — sev — nngh — seven...!
My focus turns solely to that. I go over it again and again, from start to finish. Ironically, the accompanying ‘calming’ music just makes it all a lot creepier.
You’re not going to suffocate — you’re not going to get crushed — everything is fine — just keep breathing, keep counting—!
Bzz bzz bzz — Beep beep beep
Bit by bit, my body inches further and further into the scanner. Further into the darkness. Further into confinement. I keep my eyes tightly shut. Each of my fingers repeatedly flex by my sides, prickling painfully. The walls vibrate menacingly around me. The suffocating feeling grows.
Get me out. Get me out. Get me out—
Before I can even snatch up the buzzer, I feel the bed already rolling backwards. Familiar voices are muffled by the headphones. Their words are distorted through Beethoven’s blissful harmony.
Finally!
The bright lights sting my eyes, but I don’t care. I’m just so glad to be out of there. Relieved tears brim behind my eyelids. Nothing restricts my lungs from fully expanding to take in as much air as I humanly can. Gradually, the initial panic begins to die down. I gradually re-adjust to the sweet sensation of actual space—
“That’s it — we’re all done, my boy.”
A brief fiddling at my ears and the headphones are mercifully removed, followed by each of the straps keeping me tethered to the bed. “Come, let’s get these things off of you — are you alright?”
“Y-yeah, just…you know.”
He simply returns my concerned look as he unfastens the final strap. His warm hands soon take my arms, helping me into a sitting position with his usual gentleness. I stretch my neck a little, trying to get rid of the stiffness from having to lie so still. Out of the corner of my eye, I can already see my scan images loading up on the other side of the room. My eyes widen a little as I take in the series of projecting holographic images before us. Each one practically pulses in mid-air, with different parts highlighted in painfully bright hues.
Totally not creepy at all.
Said spots dance before my eyes, standing out like neon beacons among the greyer pixels hovering in front of me, spread throughout my body. I’m definitely no doctor, so I have no idea what it’s showing. Only that one particular area — which looks to be around the centre of my chest — glows especially bright.
...I have no idea if that’s a good or bad thing.
“I see...yes, that makes so much sense now…”
Dr Voss rests a hand against his chin, murmuring thoughtfully as his eyes scan my results. Sadly I’m not a mind-reader. I can’t tell what he’s thinking.
“Well?” I ask, my stomach twisting with nerves. “What does it show?”
“We’ll need to have a thorough look over the images later,” he starts, “but from what I can already see, the images do seem promising.”
“...really?”
I don’t want to get my hopes up. Not again.
"And from our research, we've already found a few alternative treatments that could work for you," he continues, "I might have to switch around some of your other medications a bit, but I am confident that at least one of them will work.”
He offers me an encouraging smile. “And then all being well, we can see about getting you back home.”
“Home…y-yeah.”
His smile fades at my completely unenthusiastic response. I aim my downcast gaze at the floor, tucking my hands in my lap.
“...why do you say it like that? Isn’t that what you’ve wanted all this time? To get better so that you can go home? To be with your family—”
“You mean my ‘family’ that doesn’t even care about me?”
The words come out flat and disconnected. Dr Voss doesn’t respond for a moment, processing my reaction.
“They still haven’t come to visit?” he asks, disbelief entering his tone, “Your aunt and uncle?”
I give a weak shake of the head.
“Not even a phone call. Not a single one to check up on me.”
Water stings my eyes, but I force it back, keeping my stare fixed on the patterned ground.
“Ashley, I...I’m truly sorry. I really thought they’d come after....”
I don’t utter a word. Dr Voss sighs. “I’ll try calling them again today. I’m sure there’s an explanation for—”
“There is. They just don’t want to deal with me anymore.”
“Ashley—”
“They probably never did. I-I just got dumped on them after Mom and Dad…”
I trail off. My shoulders shudder as the tears threaten to spill. “I-it doesn’t matter. It’s my own fault.”
“How is any of this your fault?” he asks, concern rippling through his voice.
“...admit it, Dr Voss.”
Carefully raising my head, I lock eyes with him, hopeless. “I’m just a messed up freak…aren’t I?”
He seems…taken aback by my question. However, he recovers quickly enough.
“No Ashley. You’re just a little different than most of your peers—”
“But it’s the same thing!”
I briefly hear Dad’s voice in my head.
“People don’t like ‘different’, Ash. That’s why you have to hide it. You have to fit in.”
I swallow hard.
“Different. Freak, they’re basically the same word—”
“Actually, I can think of a more fitting one — and it describes you perfectly.”
“And what’s that?” I ask doubtfully.
Dr Voss just looks me straight in the eyes and utters a single gentle word.
“...unique.”
“Unique?” I repeat, testing it on my tongue doubtfully.
“Exactly — because you are very special in your own way, Ashley. You just don’t realise it yet.”
His eyes soften behind his glasses. “And you have the potential to bring about so much good in this world. I have no doubt you will succeed, as long as we continue our work together.”
His words are so…genuine. He cares about me. He wants what’s best for me — and honestly, that means so much to me right now.
“...you believe that?”
“Every word, my boy.”
His hand brushes against my shoulder supportively. “As for your parents…I know that you must still miss them very much, so I want you to try something for me. The next time you have some quiet time, I want you to think about the happiest memories you had with them. It can be anything — holidays, events, you name it.”
I pause for a moment, staring back at him. A few blurred images are already starting to play out in my head. Dad’s treehouse. Mom’s Thanksgiving dinner. The comforting feeling of their arms around me at night.
“W-well—”
“Don’t tell me,” he interrupts quietly, gesturing to my chest, “Tell yourself — and keep telling yourself as many times as you need to that your parents loved you and still do. Do the same for your aunt and uncle. Hold onto those memories as tightly as you can and when the negative emotions creep in, take a deep breath and remember those happy times with them. Alright?”
The happiest memories…
“...okay.”
“I promise it is easier than you think, as well as another valuable addition to your mental toolkit.”
I nod silently, watching as he begins tidying up the area. “Anyway — Marlene, please take him back to Poplar Ward for me. He deserves some rest.”
“Right away, Dr Voss.”
“Good — and please remember what I said, Ashley. I think it’s very important that you do.”
Pausing mid-shuffle after the nurse, I cast a glance over my shoulder and manage a tiny smile.
“I’ll try.”
Beep beep beep
It’s happening again.
I’m back on that table
Back with the aliens
I can’t see.
I can’t speak.
I can’t move.
Beep beep beep
It burns.
Everything burns.
Gloved hands
Prodding and poking
Hissed chatter
An alien tongue.
Beep beep beep
“ —stable — quota — essence—”
Beep beep beep
Green fire, agonising prickling.
Glass chambers, shimmering in white light
Screaming, something choking me.
Beep beep beep
“ —careful — wake — trial —”
Beep beep beep
Sobbing, pleading
Schlurping, whirring
Distant, muffled
Nightmare
Beep beep beep
Wake up.
Wake up.
Beep beep beep
Not real.
Not real.
Beep beep beep
No
No no
No no no!
“NO!”
I throw myself awake with a scream. My heart rate soars. Sweat beads my forehead. I pant, peering frantically around — just as I always do — waiting for it all to go away. Tears trail down my face. I muffle my whimpers in Nezzy’s fur, my whole body shaking. The prickling returns in my palms—
Not again — nngh — no, no, not real! Not. Real!
I screw my eyes closed. Deep breath in — hold — and exhale.
In — Mind — Over — Matter. Out — Mind — Over — Matter.
I inhale shakily. Then again — and again after that. Slow breath by slow breath, I manage to eventually calm myself down. I’m finally getting better at the grounding.
Five things I can see: Stars. Floor. Nezzy. Table. Chair.
I run my fingers all over her fur. I let my sock-clad feet drift over the floor.
Four things I can touch: Soft fur. Smooth floor. Cold bed-frame, uh...fluffy pillow.
I force myself to stand up. My legs quiver under me. I almost fall over again, lightheaded, having to hold onto the bedside table to keep my balance.
Three things I can hear: uh—
“Lad?”
My head twists towards the little grate. It’s faint, but I hear it clearly.
Dr Slade.
Wiping at my cheeks, I cautiously make my way over, kneeling down by the grate. “Ash, are you alright?”
“I-I’m okay,” I reply, trying to keep the wavers out of my voice, “Just nightmares again.”
“Aye, I figured. Horrible things they are.”
Sadly, he’s no stranger to this whole routine by now. Even as tired as he sounds — and probably torn from sleep himself — I still catch the compassion entering his voice. “Was it the same one?”
“...pretty much,” I admit, ashamed, “Did I wake you? I’m sorry, it’s so stupid—”
“It’s hardly ‘stupid’, lad,” he immediately reassures me, “Nightmares can be terrifying — and it’s arite to be scared of them. It’s horrible, but it’s normal.”
His voice seems to drop an octave. “Believe me, I would know.”
Before I can ask him what he means, Dr Slade speaks up again. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
“...not a lot from the other side of a wall,” I answer miserably.
“Och, I suppose not, unless talking helps?”
“...sometimes.”
“Arite.”
He pauses for a moment, clearly trying to think of a topic. “I haven’t gotten the chance to ask — how is the new ‘treatment’ going?”
“Not too bad, thanks.”
Yes, it is still early days, but so far the new treatment seems to be going well. Dr Voss has been very pleased, which can only be a good sign. “So far so good. No scary side effects like the last one.”
“Aye, ‘side effects’,” he mutters, scepticism filling his voice, “as long as it’s not hurting you. I was so worried the last time, when you didn’t come back after your ‘treatment’.”
He hesitates before continuing. “I might have gotten a wee bit aggressive with the staff about it, so much so that I ended up in ‘timeout’ all weekend.”
“Ouch, that sounds rough.”
“Oh, it was worth it — but at least you’re arite now.”
“Much better, thanks,” I emphasise, before daring to ask the question, “and uh...your own treatment?”
“Oh the usual, just more procedures and investigations,” he responds drily, “Nothing I can’t handle — although I did get a surprise visit from General Clancy of the US Counterintelligence Department earlier today. We actually have…quite the history.”
“Really?” I comment as casually as I can, “and uh, what did you two talk about during this…’visit’?”
“Not that much really. He wanted a top secret list from me that I keep refusing to give him. After that his fists did the rest of the talking. Ended up with three broken ribs, but they’ve all fixed themselves up now.”
Wow, this poor guy is so far gone—
“But anyway, I’m arite now. Still haven’t come up with an escape plan yet, but I’m working on it.”
“That’s…probably not going to work out, Dr Slade.”
“Oh you don’t know what I’ve been through, lad.”
I hear him give a small snicker behind the grate. “Trust me, once I’ve got a proper plan in place, the rest will be child’s play.”
“If you say so.”
I’m too tired to even humour that thought.
“Look, I’m gonna try and go back to sleep. Thanks for the talk, Dr Slade. It was a good distraction.”
With a sigh, I pull myself to my knees.
“Arite, goodnight lad. Just remember, I’m here if you need me.”
“...thanks.”
Having exchanged our second round of goodnights, both of us return to bed and I drift off with surprising ease. No tossing and turning. No disturbed sleep.
And most importantly, no more nightmares.
The next few days all pass by smoothly, with no major incidents or events. Treatment continues to go well, Dr Voss is very satisfied with my ongoing progress and I don’t know if it’s my imagination, but the hallucinations are actually getting...less. I can only count that as a win. Of course, Dr Slade remains as ‘vocal’ as ever — and he seems to have taken a bit of a liking to our new assistant doctor.
“Oh, I don’t think I’ve seen your cute face before, lad. Nice ponytail too. It really suits you~”
“U-uh…thanks, I guess?”
“You’re welcome. Just know that you can examine me any time you want, love~”
Poor Dr Simmons.
The younger doctor’s flustered response is soon joined by his superior’s exasperated sigh.
“Slade, could you please refrain from flirting with my staff? It’s highly inappropriate, not to mention—”
“Oi, I’m allowed to look at the menu, as long as I don’t order anything from it,” he defends, “and anyway, I’m just having a bit of fun. You could do with some of that in your life too, Viktor. I’m sure there are plenty of people out there with a medical kink like yours~”
“I-I beg your pardon?!”
…good luck, Dr Voss.
Rolling my eyes, I tuck my book under my arm and call one of the nurses to let me out for free time. Piercing attends my call immediately, in his usual good mood.
“Need anything, kiddo~?”
“Hey, Pierce. Do you know if the sensory garden’s free? I wanted to hang out there a bit this afternoon.”
“Should be,” he says, “I was just about to go on my break, so I’ll drop you off there on the way, okay?”
“Sounds good.”
Dr Slade is a good guy, but I just really need some peace and quiet for a bit.
As promised, Piercing accompanies me all the way to my destination, leaving me in the capable care of the other nurses. Surprisingly, there are more patients around than usual today. Some of them sit off in groups, chatting under the watchful eye of their assigned nurse. Others sit silently in the corners, or stare off vacantly into the distance. At the very least, we’re all getting some positive benefit from this place.
Alright, where should I sit?
Rolling my shoulders, I make my way down the cobble-stoned path, still not quite set on my destination. There are benches, the swinging chairs, the hedge-like seating — plenty of choice.
Yeah, that’ll do.
My hand brushes against the artificial leaves of one of the fake bushes. My feet hop along the stones playfully as I follow the familiar paths. A chill runs down my exposed arms from the whistling ‘breeze’ of a nearby fan, sending a cold air rippling through the clearing. On my way down, I pass a familiar willow tree, its leaves hanging like teardrops towards the ground. Someone sits underneath it, holding something in their lap. From my current distance, I notice a few loose strands of blonde flutter gently behind them, brushing against their chin.
Blonde hair...wait, isn’t that—?!
With a cry of recognition, I stumble the remaining distance towards them, closing the gap. Attracted by the sudden noise, they jerk their head up, releasing a startled gasp. Their familiar brown eyes meet my hopeful green irises.
“Krissy!”
The blonde stares back at me, visible confusion etched into their face.
“Uh…hi?”
Krissy’s clueless response alarms me a little. Frowning, they tilt their head. “Sorry, do I know you?”
From the genuine lack of recognition in their eyes, I can only make one conclusion.
They don’t remember me.
I pause. A second unnerving possibility springs to mind.
Either that, or I just imagined that whole thing in here.
My mind whirs. I peer back at them helplessly, now confused myself.
I didn’t...did I?
“Hey, it’s a simple question,” Krissy speaks up, a little impatient, “Have we met: yes, or no?”
Oh geez.
“Y-yeah, we uh...we met a while ago, out here?”
I wince a little, trying to sound as convincing as I can. “You were trying to run away from the nurses and we hid together, right here. That was when you tried to warn me about—”
“Run away? Wait, — I sort of remember that — and I was with someone but…”
Their broad eyes flicker back to me. “Hold on, what’s your name?”
“It’s Ash,” I answer quickly as they begin thumbing through their purple pad, “Don’t you remember—”
“Sorry, just…just give me a sec — Ash, Ash, Ash.”
They mutter my name repeatedly as they flick through all of their dog-eared entries. I watch them silently, listening to the sound of their frustrated murmurs over the constant sound of turning papers. I don’t dare to distract them, chewing on my lower lip.
This is…a little awkward.
“Ash, Ash—aha!”
They triumphantly stop at a single page. Their eyes flicker from the sketch, to my still bemused face before flipping their pad over so I can see. “That’s you, right?!”
A small sketch of my freckled face peers back at me from the pad. For a hastily scribbled drawing, it’s actually pretty impressive. They got most of my main features down to a tee, although that small grin doesn’t quite belong on my lips. I blink rapidly, skimming the page as I take in their frantically scribbled scrawl of…what seems to be a mini profile?
* Ash - Brown hair, green eyes, freckles, white shirt
* About my age?
* Friendly, protective → hid with me when running away
* Not on Maple Ward :( → Met in Sensory Garden
* Maybe we could be friends?
I can’t help but smile faintly at that last point.
“Yep, that’s me.”
“O-oh, good! Then that means—oh my God, I’m so sorry.”
Shame fills their voice, genuinely apologetic. “I uh, have some pretty wack memory issues, so I use everything in here to help fill in the gaps. If I don’t write it down, then I struggle to remember it, so…yeah.”
Now that I think about it, they did mention something about their memory being off last time.
"Heh...I’m just a weirdo, aren’t I?”
“No! Not at all.”
I lower myself to the ground, shuffling around a bit to join them. “I mean, it’s not exactly something you can help, right?”
“...I guess not.”
They meet my gaze gratefully. “But yeah, uh...I don’t remember it too well, but thanks for trying to help me. I just hope you didn’t get into any trouble for it.”
“Not really, just a brief timeout before dinner."
"That's good then."
They adjust their sketchpad, before sending me a renewed smile. “Anyway, nice to meet you Ash — again, aheh.”
They laugh faintly, leaning backwards a bit. “I’m Krissy. Krissy Wolfe — and don’t worry, there’s no relation to literal wolves or werewolves in the family tree, so I think you can sleep soundly tonight~”
“Ah, good to know?”
I send them an awkward smile in response. “So, Krissy — is that a guy’s name or…?”
The teen just laughs in amusement as I trail off.
“Heh, it’s the hair, isn’t it?” Krissy snickers, thankfully not at all offended, “Yep, I’m a guy — and don’t worry, I’m sure you’re not the first one to get confused. I’ve gotta be way overdue for a trim.”
“Hey, I reckon I could use one too — maybe we could ask one of the nurses to start a hair salon here.”
Thankfully Krissy does join in on my small snicker. As I peer closer, I find myself drawn once again to the little sketch accompanying my profile. “That’s a cute sketch by the way. Do you have other drawings in there?”
“Uhuh. This old thing is basically a collection of my own personal scribbles. They’re really nothing special though.”
He briefly flicks through the pages. Curious, I shuffle a little closer to see. “They’re mostly helpful as a visual aid — you know, to put a face to the name and all that.”
Sure enough, my profile isn’t the only one. As I peer over his shoulder, I catch multiple detailed sketches and familiar faces. Although they might look simple from a distance, you can tell the clear passion and care that went into every stroke of their pencil. Not a single smudge. Not a line out of place.
“They’re...really good, Kris.”
“O-oh, really?”
I can’t tell if he’s more taken aback by the compliment, or the nickname. “I mean, I’m hardly an artist or anything, but I guess my sketching skills are better than my maths. Numbers aren’t really one of my strong suits.”
“Join the club,” I add, “At least they’re not drilling us on algebra or sohcahtoa here.”
“Soh-cah-what-now?”
“A super complicated formula some ancient Greek guy made when dealing with right-angled triangles,” I state with a shrug, “or something like that — but anyway, I’m going off topic.”
“Yeah, just a bit,” Krissy responds, snickering slightly, “Do you uh, do much drawing yourself?”
“Literally just cartoon animals now and again,” I admit, a little embarrassed, “Nothing as detailed as this.”
“Hey, cartoon animals can be tricky! And we’ve all gotta start somewhere, right?”
I watch as Krissy continues to flick back through the pages. The rest of it is just as organised and colourful, with bright post-it-notes and stickers decorating the majority of the filled pages. Their content varies from scribbled reminders, journal entries and even what looks like a weekly timetable, surrounded by further scribbled additions and doodles. “Sooo yeah. Other than all the notes for my reminders and routines, that’s about everything in there.”
He closes his pad definitively, running his fingers over the purple cover. “I’m just grateful to have this thing. I’d be in a real mess without it.”
Despite his attempted casual tone, I still catch a sense of sorrow behind Krissy’s words. I blink back at him, hesitating.
“If you don’t mind me asking,” I start quietly, “what happened to your…you know?”
I slowly tap my head. Thankfully Krissy gets my gesture, even if he doesn’t answer right away.
“…honestly, I don’t know,” he eventually sighs, “Head injury. ‘Treatment’ side effect. Some other weird and wonderful reason. Take your pick.”
I wince sympathetically.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, “Does anything help make it better at all?”
“Besides this thing? Just more exposure I guess. Lots of repetition, reminders, notes...yeah. Basically, every day is like trying to fill in this big puzzle with a bunch of missing pieces that you just don’t have. It’s exhausting, but...there’s no use getting upset over it.”
He shakes his head. “I try to make the best of it, but some days are just…harder than others.”
“Good days and bad days?” I ask softly.
“Y-yeah, basically.”
His grip tightens on the pad for a moment. “And then when I try and think about anything before this place, there’s just barely anything there. I don’t even know how long I’ve been here, just that it’s been…a while.”
The underlying sadness to the teen’s words isn’t lost on me. Right now, I really wish I could say more to comfort him, but the right words aren’t quite there. Instead, I gently rest my hand on top of his sketchbook. I focus on Krissy’s suddenly tired face, my voice hushed.
“You’ll get through it, okay?” I tell him, “I mean, you’re already doing the right things with all your notes and stuff. I think it’s really clever.”
“...thanks, Ash.”
Okay, that dipped the mood a bit...
“Hey, do you want to see something cool?”
“...like what?"
“Here. Come with me.”
Taking Krissy’s hand, both of us get to our feet. I carefully guide my new friend back down the cobble-stones and towards a tall metal box. “This thing here controls the scenery on those big screens. You just pick whatever setting you want and it switches it up straight away.”
I nudge Krissy toward it. “Go ahead, try it.”
“Oh-kay. Like this?”
His thumb presses down on the nearest button, eliciting a small yelp of surprise. Almost immediately the current warmth of the sunset sky melts into a colder icy exterior of a winter wonderland. “Whoa!”
Krissy gasps aloud, clearly awe-struck. His brown eyes sparkle a little as he takes it all in. “That’s so cool~ Look at all the options they’ve got!”
“I know, right?” I reply enthusiastically, “The woodland waterfall’s my favourite, but the others are all pretty too.
Krissy nods eagerly, fully immersed in the beautiful transitions as he glances over the twelve buttons. His fingers brush over a few options, going back and forth between two different choices. Eventually, he settles on the central button. A small smile crosses his lips.
“...and this one?”
The chosen button bears the icon of a crescent moon. I return their excited look with an encouraging nod.
“I’m not sure actually. Let’s try it.”
The icy scenery is instantly swallowed up by a dark midnight blue. Bright lights flicker to life, suspended among the darkness, some closer than others. Brightest of all is the glowing orb that hovers above our heads. I have to crane my neck back to fully appreciate the view.
“Wow…”
Beside me, Krissy is mesmerised. He takes in every glimmer of light, slowly twirling around to observe the entire display of the ‘night sky’ around us. I’m almost worried he’ll make himself dizzy. “Look at it — all of it!”
He peers back at me, practically beaming. “Aren’t they beautiful?”
“Yeah. They are.”
Krissy’s eyes glimmer. He even reaches his hand out slightly, as if trying to grasp those little lights.
“I’ve really missed just looking at them,” he explains in a hushed voice, “My room doesn’t even have a window, so I have no way of actually seeing them anymore. Like, I know this is all just special effects and stuff, but sometimes it’s just easier to pretend — just for a little bit — that those stars…actually are real.”
He gives me a sad smile. “Sometimes it’s the only way to get through the hard times, knowing that good things still exist. Otherwise, what’s the point in anything?”
My brain struggles to form a satisfactory response to his very valid point. In the end, all I can come up with is a sad murmur.
“...there wouldn’t be one, I guess.”
I close my eyes tightly. As the twinkling fades from my mind, another thought crosses it. “Kris, can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“...how’s your treatment going?”
Krissy frowns, clearly taken aback by my question.
“My treatment? Hold on, let me check my notes—why do you want to know?”
I hesitate for a moment, checking over my shoulder.
“...last time we were out here, you warned me not to trust it. You said ‘suspicious things’ were going on. Is any of that still true?”
Krissy frantically thumbs through the pages to check his notes. I hear him murmuring to himself under his breath. Eventually he stops at one particular page, lingering on it for a moment.
“Not sure if it’s relevant, but here’s the last thing I’ve got written down,” he reads aloud, “Let’s see: ‘They’ve been changing my meds around again — and the treatment still isn’t good. It always hurts when they put it in. I begged them to stop, but they just ignored me.’”
He flips to another page, skim-reading the notes. “‘Two other patients on my ward disappeared this week. The nurses said they were discharged, but they didn’t seem ready yet. ...Stocky said I’m allowed to leave my room again. I asked to see Mom and Dad but they said I…I-I need to get better first’?”
Krissy stops reading, sending me an anxious look. “Are you getting any of this too?”
It’s very faint, but I can just about hear it in the back of my head: an alarm.
...maybe I’m just overthinking it?
“...they did have to change my treatment after a bad reaction to the last one,” I reply, “but everything else…I’m not sure if—”
“Break’s over, kiddo.”
My head snaps in the direction of the unfamiliar voice. A dark haired nurse approaches us, seemingly addressing Krissy. “Come on. Back to the ward now.”
“Already? But—”
“No buts. You know the rules — unless you want another timeout?”
Krissy quickly closes his mouth, silencing whatever protests he had.
“...fine. You win, Stubby.”
Gritting his teeth, he tucks his sketchpad under his arm. Despite his frustration, I do catch the frightened flicker in Krissy’s eyes.
“It’ll be okay,” I murmur reassuringly, forcing a last smile on my face. “We’ll see each other again soon, right?”
“Y-yeah, see you round— and thanks again, Ash.”
Reluctantly, Krissy shuffles over to the stern-faced nurse and follows them out of the garden. He manages to send me one final look over his shoulder before he disappears around the corner. Silence soon returns. The ‘stars’ become my only company, shining away above me as I stare after them.
Take care, Kris.
A little worn out from the unexpected social interaction, I trudge back to the willow tree for the remainder of my time slot. Just as I turn around to head back in that direction, I suddenly freeze up.
Huh?!
…I see them — both of them. Dark curly locks. Chestnut wavy strands spilling out from under a very familiar cap. Grey shirts. Downcast eyes.
What are they doing here?!
I can’t even hear the nurses anymore. Ignoring them, I charge towards my new destination. My feet skid a little on the stones, almost tripping.
“Lex! Dee!”
My heart hammers as I stumble around the corner. Their names leave my lips in a desperate cry. Another breeze starts to blow as I toss my head in all directions, searching for them.
Where did they go?! They were right here!
“Cody?! Alex?!”
There’s no sign of them. No verbal response. Not even a flicker of their presence.
No. No no no, they—they were here! I know they were!
Panting, I hurry forward a little further. Checking around the corners reveals nothing. Panic melts into fear, further driving my uncertain mind.
What are they even doing here? They’re not supposed to be here! We were at Lormill! We were—
“Ash?”
One of the nurses hurries over to me. Her doe shaped eyes study me in concern. “I heard you yelling. Is everything alright?”
“No, I—I thought I saw my friends — they were right here, I know they were!”
Doe Nurse’s eyes briefly flicker around the area as she approaches me. Her voice softens as she stops about a metre away.
“Ash...there’s no one there, sweetie.”
I fiercely shake my head in denial.
No, there was! They were there! …weren’t they?
I stare back at the empty space. My head begins to throb.
…or they really weren’t. All in my head — again.
My eyes begin to sting. I take a deep breath in.
I thought this was getting better! This was all supposed to stop!
“Do you want me to get Dr Voss for you?”
No. The treatment is working. It just needs some time. I’m doing well! I am doing well! I know it!
Forcing the tears back, I turn around to face her and stiffly shake my head.
“No, just...take me back to my room.”
Happy new year, lovelies!! :D
I'm sorry for the delay in posting this, but I was home for the holidays and I'm finally preparing to go back to work so it's been pretty busy! Still, better late than never and consider this the first post of 2026! I hope the new year is a truly wonderful one for all of you! :D
Thank you so much for keeping up with this story so far and taking precious time out of your day to read it, it honestly means so much to me and I am so grateful to you. Once again, I love Krissy so much -- and fun fact, I actually literally had an MRI scan today at the hospital so it was a nice parallel to Ash in this chapter XD As for Chapter 6...I'm aiming to get it out next Friday but let's say that's when things are finally set to start ramping up ;)
Have a wonderful rest of the weekend and take care of yourselves! See you soon and sending best wishes! xx
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With Dr Voss back, things run a lot more smoothly. Treatment continues without complications and I’m back to my usual predictable routine. Whilst others might find it boring or monotonous, I actually find it comforting. Change has always thrown me because…you just don’t know what to expect, or what you’re going to be facing instead.
And if you don’t know, then you can’t prepare for it.
Like my new neighbour, for example. There is no way I could have prepared for his arrival at all. However — despite my initial frustration at his deluded chattering — he’s actually a nice guy. Sure, ‘Dr’ Slade is not with it mentally, but he’s been nothing but polite and respectful towards me since the day he got here. The guy clearly cares about me, even in his current situation. My fellow patient always takes the time to check in with me and make sure I’m doing alright — maybe a little too frequently. One week in and he’s still just as concerned about my wellbeing, despite my gazillion reassurances that I’m totally fine. Sadly, it doesn’t do much to change his stance — and of course he’s still very paranoid around Dr Voss and the nurses.
“I don’t need any ‘treatment’.”
His familiar grumbles carry through the grate as I sit next to it, reading my book before lights out. “I’ll say it again — there’s nothing wrong with me!”
I can’t help but wince sympathetically. The powdery taste of my own meds still lingers on my tongue.
“It’s okay, Dr Slade,” I reassure him for the third time this evening, “they’re just pills. They’re meant to help us — and they’re not poisoned or anything like that either.”
He just mutters some Scottish curse in response. “Look, I’m taking them too — and I’m fine, so that’s a sign that they’re safe for you to take as well.”
I pause for a moment. “You have been taking them, right?”
“They think I have,” he answers carefully, “and that’s all that matters.”
So he’s not even taking his meds properly? Ouch.
“But don’t they check you—”
“Oh they do, but I just purge them out in the bathroom as soon as they’re gone. Like I said, I’m not trusting anything they give to me.”
He gives a bitter sounding laugh as his accent thickens. “And if they even try shoving those pills down mah gob then I’ll bite their bloody fingers off.”
“Dr Slade…”
I trail off helplessly. I want to help him, but it’s pretty difficult when that same person doesn’t want to help themselves.
“Listen, don’t you worry about me, arite? Just focus on yourself, lad.”
He hesitates. “But keep an open mind. That’s all I’m asking.”
I don’t answer him. My neighbour soon falls silent, almost…ashamed.
He must really be struggling over here.
I bite my lower lip, feeling a little bad.
“...why don’t we talk about something else, to take your mind off things for a bit?”
When he doesn’t respond right away, I continue to prompt him. “You were telling me a bit about your home in the Big Apple this morning, remember?”
“Aye, before we were rudely interrupted,” he answers with a sad sigh, “It’s been a while since I was so far away from home.”
“That doesn’t sound easy,” I murmur, “Have you lived there all your life?”
“Not exactly, lad.”
He clears his throat. “I actually grew up in Scotland — if the accent didn’t give it away — during the reign of our good Queen Victoria no less.”
Oh boy. Here we go again.
“Life was very different back in the eighteen-hundreds, what with the turn of the Industrial Revolution and the advancements of civilisation as a whole. Lots of traditions and etiquette to follow, some of which I still can’t quite shake apparently.”
I force myself to nod along with his story.
Just nod and smile. Play along—
“But besides that I’ve actually done a fair bit of travelling during my lifetime. France during the First World War, Germany, the USSR — oh those were fun times — and lastly England before finally settling down in the US.”
“...right. That’s a lot of countries.”
“Aye — and naturally I’ve also had plenty of time to study their languages. I’m practically fluent in six of them now: English, French, Russian, German, Greek and — what was the other one? — ah, Latin.”
Okay, that would be impressive if it were true.
“...and I thought learning one language was tricky.”
“Well when you’ve got infinite time to kill, you might as well do something useful with it.”
The man laughs softly on the other side. As difficult as it is to keep a straight face, at least he sounds a bit calmer now — still deluded, of course, but certainly calmer. “And I like to think I am, being a doctor and all.”
Ah right. A ‘doctor’.
“Do you actually have your own hospital?”
“Sort of. I run my own medical clinic close to Central Park — Sunny Samuels. It was named after the man who taught me almost everything I know about medicine. He took me off the streets when my own family…well, let’s just say they ‘disowned’ me. They couldn’t care less about me, but him? He was like a father to me.”
My neighbour pauses. “Sadly, he...left us a long time ago, but I made a promise to ensure his legacy lived on and I like to think that I kept that promise.”
Poor guy—
“A-anyway — apologies, I tend to go off topic a wee bit — I also live in that same clinic with my partner, Aiden. Have I mentioned him before?”
Yep, the ‘angel from the heavens’ who is also apparently ‘possessed by a demon’.
“Once or twice. You sound close.”
“That we are, lad. He means everything to me.”
I can hear undeniable fondness radiating through his voice. I’m pretty sure he’s smiling on the other side of the wall. “We’ve been together for roughly…two years now? We’ve had each others’ backs through some very tough times — and now he’s studying to get into medical school himself. He’s doing ever so well too~”
He might be gushing a bit, but it’s nice to hear so much warmth in his normally tired voice. The one thing I can’t deny about his whole spiel is his care for his partner. That much is real — plus the fact that maybe this actually is a case of doctor-turned-patient.
“Aw — and how long have you been running the clinic?”
“Oh, a good few decades now,” he replies proudly, “It’s had many years of excellent service, offering prime medical care for supers and their families alike.”
Right, ‘supers’.
I can’t keep up my act any longer.
“Dr Slade, if supers really exist, then why does no one ever talk about them?”
“Because of the top religious zealots, of course,” he scowls, “and for that reason, I imagine the media is always very careful to avoid too many leaks outside of the Big Apple. As far as the world is concerned, ‘superpowers’ are still just a silly story.”
Because they are, obviously.
“But I’m one of the few people that spoke up for us — me and my friends. We formed the first super-powered team in the Big Apple, you know.”
“...really?” I ask dubiously.
“Aye, we became known as the Original Six,” he replies, “We might have been a team, but to me, we’ve always been more like family. I can tell you more about them if you’d like. I reckon you’d love Ranger in particular, since you’re both so fond of nature.”
“Ranger?” I repeat quietly.
“Aye. I raised him when he was a wee lad, so he’s like my own son. He can talk to animals and summon them out of thin air. It’s really quite impressive.”
Now that would be cool.
“Then there’s Absolute Zero — oh she’s a powerful lass. She can—”
With renewed enthusiasm, he begins prattling on about each of his ‘super’ friends in turn. I try to stay focused, but I soon find myself zoning out, automatically nodding along like a dumb bobble head without really taking in any of his words.
...I think I’ve had enough of Dr Slade’s rambling for today.
“ —and when we get out of here, I’ll take you on a tour of the city and you can meet all of them. I’m sure they’d love to meet you too—lad, are you still with me?”
“O-oh, sorry!”
I force myself to sit up straighter, shaking my head. “I’m just getting a little tired.”
“Och, I was going on again, wasn’t I?”
Absolutely.
“Just a little. It’s…interesting to hear about it all though.”
“You’re more than welcome, lad. I have many more stories to share whenever you want. For now, I think I’ll call it a night too — we need our energy to deal with Dr Lunatic, don’t we?”
“Mhmm.”
It’s easier to just agree at this point. Dog-earing my current page, I take one last glance at the grate as I hear him shuffling away. “Dr Slade?”
“Yes, lad?”
“I um…sleep well.”
I barely have to wait for his gentle response.
“Pleasant dreams, Ash.”
The next day dawns bright and clear. I go about my usual morning routine — including meds and breakfast — before patiently waiting in my room for Dr Voss to collect me. It isn’t long before I hear the usual clacking of his footsteps through the corridor.
“Watch out today, lad,” my neighbour warns me as my door beeps cheerfully, “be careful.”
“I’ll be fine. I promise.”
Taking a deep breath, I get to my feet. Dr Slade is especially on edge this morning, probably a direct consequence of not taking his meds properly. Shaking my head, I simply walk over to the door as Dr Voss enters my room.
“Are you ready to go, Ashley?” he asks, punctual as always.
“As ready as ever.”
“Good boy.”
He sends me his signature smile, before also addressing my neighbour through the grate. “And Slade, I’ll collect you for our appointment once I’m finished with Ashley, alright?”
“Oh joy,” my neighbour sighs, “Got to love our ‘appointments’. Nothing quite like having a scalpel slicing through you on a Wednesday morning.”
Dr Voss frowns deeply.
“I...beg your pardon?”
“Oh I think you know what I mean, lad,” he responds, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “Honestly, you should at least buy me dinner first before you go tearing off my shirt, you know.”
“Slade, you know that is not—ugh.”
…I have no idea how Dr Voss handles him.
Taking a deep breath, the doctor quickly composes himself, answering his patient as...patiently as possible. “We’ve already been through this several times, Slade. This is a place to help you, so please just try to relax—”
“Whilst you’re carving into me without anaesthetic? Sure. Sounds very relaxing,” comes his snark-filled hiss, “I know you’re just itching to get a closer look inside of me, aren’t you? Not that it surprises me — you are part German after all. Another Mengele wannabe, perhaps?”
I wince uncomfortably at the disturbing reference. Remarkably, Dr Voss still manages to maintain his neutral expression.
“...I’ll see you later, Slade.”
Part of me does consider telling him about my neighbour’s ‘compliance’ with his medication, but I don’t really want to be a snitch either. In the end, I just bite my tongue and follow Dr Voss out of the ward and down the usual corridors to the treatment room. As always, they take my blood, run through the routine consent checks and examine the IV site along with my choker.
“Vitals all good, Doctor.”
“Thank you, Beatrice.”
Soon I feel the familiar cool leather of the treatment couch against my back, watching as he unclamps the IV line. “Alright, starting the infusion...now.”
A cold stinging sensation flows through my veins. I grit my teeth, forcing myself through the first phase. As usual, it only lasts for about ten seconds before fading into a dull niggle. Resting my head back against my pillow, I allow myself to close my eyes, letting the treatment do its thing. Dr Voss and the nurse stay close, monitoring my obs or looking through my chart. Just like always.
Another successful treat—
“Gnngh!”
Something explodes inside my chest. It’s enough to throw me forwards with a strained cry. A fiery inferno burns through my lungs. Waves of pain flood through me. My limbs jolt against the couch.
“Ashley?!”
Dr Voss is immediately by my side. His eyes flare with urgency. “What’s wrong? Are you in pain? Tell me what’s—”
He doesn’t waste a single second. “Put out the emergency call! Someone help — I need some help in here! Now!”
I’m only half aware of the screeching alarm. My nails scrabble at my throat. It’s closing up with every second. I cry. I choke. I can barely shift the air through my airways. I can’t form any words. I can’t even think. I can only gasp out in terror, fighting for every breath.
No — no — no — can’t — can’t—!
Strangled cries leave my lips. My insides are burning. My heart is about to rip through my chest. Dancing black spots swim in front of my eyes. I wheeze in horror, trying to find some way — any way —to control this pain.
“Dr Voss—!”
A flurry of shadows arrive. I vaguely catch my doctor’s desperate barked orders.
More scuffling. More scrambling. Frantic distorted instructions—
“Monitors — stop — rate — gehen!”
Multiple hands grab me. Rubber invades my nose. A mask is shoved over my face. Something stabs into my thigh. Gloved fingers poke and prod at me. My stomach churns. Each forceful heartbeat bangs against my ribs. Scorching prickles ripple through my fingers—
“Observations — what — show?”
Distant beeping rings out. Each one follows the last in frighteningly quick succession.
Beep beep beep beep beep beep beep—
“Rate — fibrillation — unstable!”
“Verdammt!”
Beads of sweat form on my forehead. They drip down my face, stinging my eyes as much as the tears—
“Stabilise — further — now — !”
This has never happened before—
“Ash — ley — with us — stay — us!”
Their lips move. Only muffled sounds reach my ears now.
This is it.
The darkness grows. It swallows my vision. I’m drowning. I’m slipping away.
I’m going to die.
And then I’m gone.
“—report — latest observations?”
“Heart rate — down — fever — fluids — stable.”
Distant voices start to register in my ears. Cracks of light begin to break through the dark.
“—too much — doses — limited.”
“But — less — likely to meet — they said—”
“I — aware — can’t be allowed — too frequent — consider balance — suppression — factors — consideration — for now — hold off — investigate — causes — information—”
“Nngh…”
An exhausted groan slips from my semi-conscious figure. Footsteps instantly approach.
“Ashley — you — alright?”
The voice gradually becomes clearer, familiar.
Dr...Voss?
With a soft whine, I begin peeling my eyes open. Bright lights shine down from above. Blurred silhouettes stare back at me, watching anxiously as I begin to recover. Still dazed, I try to move. Just that simple action is enough to send pangs of pain through my head.
“Easy — you’ve been through a lot — take it slowly — don’t strain yourself.”
Groggily, I try to take in my surroundings. Light grey walls on all four sides. A strong sterile disinfectant smell. Connected monitors and equipment. A fuzzy squirrel peeking at me from the bedside table.
“Nngh…wh-where…?”
My voice is weak, my throat undeniably raw.
“You’re in one of the observation bays on the second floor, under close monitoring for now.”
Dr Voss’s hazy figure leans into my field of vision. His hands reach out to me, helping to carefully guide me into a sitting position. He looks surprisingly...tired. “It’s just a temporary move until we’re certain that you’ve recovered properly.”
…recovered?
Disconnected sensations flash through my mind. My eyes flicker around, taking note of the many monitors and lines snaking out from under my bedsheets. I groan again. The room spins a little as I press a hand against my temple.
“What…happened?”
Dr Voss hesitates for a moment. His hand hovers over my own, rubbing his thumb across my knuckle.
“...I’m afraid you had a severe reaction to the treatment, Ashley,” he explains quietly, “You were in shock. Your airway collapsed.”
Vague memories of panicked wheezing start to slowly return. I feel my eyes widening. Instinctively, my fingers trace around my throat.
“But I—I don’t understand…”
Questions are forming on my lips. Getting them out is the real struggle. I can already feel my breathing instinctively picking up again. The plastic cannula in my nose giving me extra oxygen doesn’t exactly help right now. “This has…never happened before—”
“All medications come with possible side effects, my boy,” he tells me gently, “Severe reactions are rare, but not impossible. We will want to run some further investigations of course, but given the time of the reaction onset, I would say that it was almost certainly caused by the infusion.”
He meets my eyes. His own still carry that same concern as before. “Thankfully we were able to intervene immediately. We’ll keep you under close observation for the next forty-eight hours and take things from there.”
I blink back at him, realising what this means.
“...what about my treatments? If it was just a one-off then I can still have them, right?”
My heart drops at the wordless shake of his head.
“...I’m sorry, Ashley—”
“But—but I still need it, don’t I?”
My voice wavers with a distressed cry. “P–please I–I was doing so well on it. It was working. I–I need it to—”
“I can’t risk anything like that happening to you again,” he emphasises, “In this situation, I am forced to weigh up the negatives against the positives — and given the severity of the reaction, the risks definitely outweigh the benefits of the treatment. I can’t let you have it again, for your own safety. I’m sorry.”
Blinking back tears, I avert my attention to the white cotton bedsheets. My fingers begin playing with them absent-mindedly, refusing to respond. His voice softens. “Ashley…you understand that, don’t you?”
“...I can still get better, right?”
My words almost sound like a plea. “There are other options we can try, right? I just—I–I want all this to stop and—and every time we make progress it feels like one foot forward and two steps back!”
I bury a small sniffle in my chest, trying to calm down. “I–I’m sorry—”
“Please don’t apologise, Ashley. It’s a perfectly normal response at this time. Believe me, I am extremely disappointed too. We were beginning to see results. I made you that promise and now I…I almost feel as if I’ve failed.”
I glance back at him tearily. He sighs, closing his eyes as he moves his slipping glasses back up his nose. Another pang of guilt spreads across my chest.
“N–no, not at all, I just…p-please don’t give up on me—”
“Of course not — and this is not the end, alright? This is just a small set-back — but I promise you, I am already looking at possible alternative options to revise your treatment plan. I’m sure we’ll find something that is just as effective as what we were using before.”
Okay. He’s already looking. That’s something—
“Until then, your other scheduled treatments have been cancelled. I don’t want to try you on anything else until I am absolutely sure that you’ve recovered enough to cope with it.”
“...why do you think it happened?” I ask quietly.
“I’m not sure yet. We’ll need further tests to pick out an underlying cause, but my theory is that somehow you’ve developed a resistance to the treatment, resulting in rejection. It would certainly explain the severe reaction you experienced.”
He shakes his head, helpless. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”
I don’t respond verbally, but I can feel the hopeless tears beginning to crawl down my cheeks. Slowly, he leans forward and gently dabs at my face with one of the nearby tissues. His meaningful gesture draws out a small sob. “Shh, let it out, Ashley. It’s alright. I’m right here, I promise.”
“Th-thanks…”
At least he is.
“I just…I–I don’t why, but I just really want a hug right now.”
Dr Voss sends me a sympathetic look.
“I would if I could, my boy,” he answers regretfully, “but there are rules and protocols in place against that — and you wouldn’t want me to get in trouble, would you?”
“...n-no, Dr Voss.”
With a reluctant sigh, I drop the topic. He clearly senses my upset, given how his voice softens again.
“Perhaps you’ll get one later. I’ve already called your family to let them know what happened.”
A brief spark of hope flickers in my chest.
“Y-you did? Are they coming to see me?”
“Well, I did leave them a message insisting they come and see you, so I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before they get here.”
...I really hope so.
Sniffing, I close my eyes, trying to block out the burning lights. At the same time, the tissue moves away from my face and he presses it into my hand.
“How are you feeling otherwise? Are you in any pain?”
“Nnn…a little,” I admit, “can I have something for it?”
“Of course. I’ll ask the nurses to give you some more pain relief in just a moment.”
He gives my hand another comforting squeeze. “Now, unfortunately we do need to take another blood sample from you. Would that be alright?”
Not more needles...
“...if it helps.”
“Good boy — Dexter, if you don’t mind?”
“Right on it, Doc.”
A vaguely familiar face steps forward. It’s not his soft chocolate brown eyes that get my attention, but rather that signature blonde ponytail.
“You…I saw you, in the canteen,” I mumble, “Ponytail.”
He blinks at me in slow recognition, before shooting me an amused smile.
“Heh, I’ll take that,” he replies fondly, already preparing the kit for my bloodwork, “Nice to meet you properly, kiddo. I’m Dr Simmons. Dr Voss has already told me a lot about you.”
“Oh…you’re working with him?”
“That is correct, Ashley.”
Dr Voss gestures towards him with a small nod. “Dexter here will be assisting me with your treatment plan moving forwards. I can assure you, you are in good hands with him.”
“Heh, I’m flattered~”
With a surprising level of gentleness, he takes my arm and begins cleaning it in preparation. “Don’t worry, I’ll be in and out before you know it. Now let’s see…aw, that’s a pretty cute squirrel you got there~ Does it have a name?”
“Um…Nezzy,” I reply, a little embarrassed at his attempt to distract me.
“Oh that’s so adorable~ I’m more of a bunny guy myself though.”
“Do you have—ack!”
I hiss as the needle punctures my skin.
“Yup, I’ve got one at home. His name’s Jack Daniels, or JD for short. He’s just the cutest little bundle of fluff, though he gets pretty cranky if you miss feeding time. I’m sure you’d love him~”
He flashes me another friendly smile before carefully taking the needle out. “Aaand there, all done. You did great, Ash.”
“Thank you, Dexter. Have those sent to the lab for urgent analysis, please. We’ll take another set in the morning.”
“On it, Doc!”
Dr Simmons quickly jogs out of the bay, my blood bottles firmly in hand. Satisfied, Dr Voss turns his attention to the nurse hovering silently in the corner.
“Nessa, I want you and Timothy to monitor our patient very closely overnight. Hourly observations for the whole period and keep on top of his pain relief. I don’t want him to be in any pain.”
“Yes, Doctor. I’ll draw some up now for him.”
“Good.”
His voice hardens slightly. “And if his condition becomes unstable in any way overnight then inform me immediately. Understood?”
“Yes, Dr Voss.”
“Alright then. Is there anything else I can do for you, Ashley?”
“...not really,” I murmur tiredly, “I just…hope we can find something else soon.”
“We will, my boy.”
Pure sincerity fills his brown-eyed gaze. “Everything will be fine. Just trust me.”
With a final pat of my shoulder, he straightens up and quietly leaves the bay. Drained, I flop back against the bed, scrunching up the tissue in my hand. Only a minute later, the nurse gives me my pain relief. It takes effect almost immediately.
This is not the end. Just a small setback. Just…a small…setback.
With those same reassurances resonating through my head, I finally drift off into blissful black.
Here is Chapter 4! The introduction of another new face and the whole reaction to the treatment were so fun to write, honestly I've had a lot of fun with writing the latest chapters and if you do happen to be reading along, then I really hope you have as much fun reading it. As always any feedback is much appreciated and I am so grateful for all of the support. Chapter 5 will be posted Sat 27th Dec since I'm going home for the holidays and taking a break from writing and updates.
So have a wonderfully merry Christmas and season's greetings to all of you! Sending love and best wishes! x
Tag List (by popular demand!)
@whumpsmith @illustriousshadow @melpomenelamusa
Character Ownership!
Dr Slade belongs to the amazing @whumpsmith
Dr Simmons is the baby of the amazing @/distressed_mess on Deviantart!
Last book: Maldigan mi nombre by Alejandro "Taylor" Córdova 📖
Last song: Jealousy by MONSTA X
Last film: Now you see me 🃏
Last series: Duel (maybe the whumpiest kdrama I've ever seen)
Salty or sweet: Salty 🧂
Coffee or tea: Tea! Tbh I don't like coffee qwq
Currently working on: The next Chimeras CYOA chapter, and also starting to work on my gift for the Seasons Beatings event. Been really busy these days 😅
No pressure tag: @acelightningwhumper @loreleiloon @whimsy-twee @livelaughwhump @dr-abitat-blog and open tag!!
Murmuring around me, lost under the thick murkiness.
Beep beep beep
Distorted alien faces, white emotionless masks.
Green flickering lights, a glimmering sea of red.
Blurred monitors, whirring machines.
Half a dozen hands, all grabbing at me.
Beep beep beep
Burning in my chest, Prickling in my skin.
Tears on my face, Searing, tearing pain.
I can’t run.
I can’t even scream.
Beep beep beep
It hurts.
All of it hurts.
I’m going to die.
Beep beep beep
The pain won’t stop.
It never stops.
Just like that rhythm, over and over.
Beep beep beep
And over and over and over and over and—
“AGH!”
I lurch forward. Gasping breaths leave my lips. Both of my arms tremble. My own fading screams echo in my ears. My eyes dart frantically around the room. I feel my heart hammering against my ribs. The hallucinations are starting again. The prickling. The green light at my fingertips. I start to panic—
No, no, no — go away! Go away! Not real! Not real! Just stop it!
My throat closes up in panic. My chest tightens painfully.
Nngh — breathe, breathe, breathe!
I suck in a breath, then release it. Sweat soaks into my bangs, dripping down the back of my neck. Even the pillow is wet. I feel more wetness on my cheeks as I kick off the covers, firmly planting my feet into the cold floor. My entire body aches.
Calm down — calm down.
I wrap my shaking arms around my waist, hugging myself. I have to calm down. There’s no one here to help me anymore.
I’m on my own.
Breathe in — breathe out — breathe in — and out.
I fight through the hallucinations. I only focus on my counting. Three counts, three words. Just like Mom said.
Mind — Over — Matter.
The weight starts to shift. I take another deep breath in.
Mind — Over — Matter.
Breath by breath, the tightness loosens. The haze slowly clears. My senses gradually return. I finally begin to register things as the world shifts back to normal.
Beige coloured walls. Shadowed furniture. Cosy green bedding.
My room.
No table. No pain. No aliens. They’re all gone now.
I’m safe.
Relief gives way to even more tears. I bury most of them in Nezzy’s fur, hugging her to my chest as I shamefully let it all out. I could call for one of the nurses, but I don’t want to cause a fuss.
Not real — just a nightmare — just another stupid nightmare.
The stars — real stars — twinkle gently outside my window, amongst the inky black of the night sky. It’s probably way past midnight, although whether I actually will get back to sleep is another question entirely. I had always managed to when someone else was there to comfort me. Mom. Dad. Rufe.
…and especially Joe.
“Hey, hey, breathe, Ash-Tree. You’re okay.”
He gently comforts me in a soft voice. Not a speck of judgement can be seen on his face. “Are you alright? I can go and get one of the nurses if—”
“Joe — p-please don’t leave me…”
“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here, okay?”
He doesn’t move at all. He stays loyally by my side, squeezing my shoulders. Before I know it, I’m bawling into his chest, dampening his blue pajama shirt with my tears. “Shh, shh…it’s okay, bro. It’s okay.”
His hands gently rub my back, trying to calm me down. I’m so embarrassed. I’m so ashamed — but he doesn’t comment at all. He just holds me.
That’s all I need.
“I-I’m sorry,” I whisper, his purple strands tickling my face.
“Hey, we’re all scared of something. It’s not your fault, Ash.”
He squeezes me again, lightly stroking my hair. “It’s not your fault…”
A few more tears crawl free at the memory of his warm arms around me. A hug is exactly what I need right now…but they’re not here.
No Mom. No Dad. No Rufe. No Joe.
Just me.
Eventually, I trudge back to bed. As expected, I don’t fall asleep right away. I find myself staring at the stars, holding Nezzy against my chest until my eyelids start to feel heavy again. Before I can actually drift off — the silence is suddenly broken.
Huh?
It’s quite a commotion out there. Banging doors, raised muffled voices and heavy footsteps all pierce the former peace.
What’s going on out—
“Oi! Less of the manhandling, lad!”
A loud scuffle sounds out, literally right outside my door. Throwing off the covers, I quickly stumble towards it, pressing my ear against its smooth surface. That same voice on the other side continues to protest.
A new patient? At this time of night?
I can tell it’s a guy from his deeper tone. I also manage to pick out a distinctive Scottish accent behind his angry grunting.
“And if you’d bothered to read my file then you’d know I’m at least five times your age! What happened to ‘respect your elders’ and all that, eh?!”
Even the sound of another door being unlocked fails to drown out his arguments. “What is this place?! How many of you are even—ack! Yer radge minger, get aff!
Wait, isn’t that the room next to mine?
Frowning, I move towards the adjoining wall, but I can’t hear anything through it. Even after hanging around that same spot for another minute, I still don’t get anything. It’s silent.
…maybe I was just hearing things.
In the end, I have no choice but to head back to bed. No more nightmares, no more imagined voices — just dreamless, undisturbed sleep.
I’ll probably need it.
The next day begins as it always does. Thankfully I’m not too much of a zombie as I go about my morning routine. Despite the persistent aches in my muscles, I still manage to drag myself to breakfast with the other patients. As Pierce and Tats take their usual table, I cast my eyes across the hall, scanning each of the tables for any familiar faces. Other than the few I usually hang out with for mealtimes, that’s about it. No sign of Krissy anywhere. I guess they’re either on a different ward, or they’ve had their canteen privileges revoked. I wince as I recall the terror in their brown eyes, thrashing against the nurses in desperation.
Hopefully they’re doing okay—
“Hey, are you waiting for food, buddy?”
A young man — probably in his mid-twenties— peers at me questioningly. Apparently I’ve just been standing here the whole time.
“Oh, um, yeah, sorry.”
I quickly grab a tray, shuffling along after him. “Got a bit distracted.”
“Don’t worry, you’re all good! Just don’t want you to miss out on the most important meal of the day.”
Despite being an unfamiliar face, he sends me a friendly grin, flicking his blonde ponytail over his shoulder. Rather than a light grey or a white shirt, his comes in a soft blue hue, peeking out from underneath his white coat.
“I won’t, thanks.”
“Good~”
He winks at me, his chocolate brown eyes eagerly surveying today’s choices. “Too bad there’s no Taco Bell here. I’ve been craving one of those for—oh hi, yeah, I’ll take the full English please. Thanks very much~”
Whilst I make my own selection — a much more modest classic of buttered toast and raspberry jam — Ponytail balances his tray in one hand to give me an awkward wave. “Alrighty, guess I’ll see you around soon, kiddo!”
“Oh uh, thanks, mister—”
A quick glance around reveals he’s already gone. Looking around, I soon spot him grabbing a seat at one of the nearby tables, joining five other mystery faces. All of them look to be in their late twenties to mid thirties, wearing matching blue uniforms. He eagerly joins in the chatter, beginning to wolf down his food impressively fast. However, it’s the sight of all those white coats that it finally clicks.
Huh, those must be the new doctors Elle mentioned. At least Ponytail seems nice.
Shaking my head, I trudge over to my allocated table. As always, conversation is mixed, with some periods of brief small-talk and others occupied by unnecessarily loud chewing. I find myself mostly nodding along and nibbling tiredly at my toast for the majority of it. About mid-way through the meal, I can’t help but notice that the chair on my right is still unfilled.
“Where’s Thalia today?”
Elle takes a large bite out of her bacon.
“Oh, she got discharged last night.”
I almost drop my plastic knife.
“Wait, already?”
The blue-haired girl just nods silently. I stare down at my plate in shock.
That was…quick. I mean, good for her, but I wish I could have gotten to say goodbye at least...
“I see,” I finally murmur, “and Bryce? He’s not here either.”
“Oh he’s probably still recovering from the booty juice. They dosed him up real good yesterday when he tried to run off the ward.”
My eyes widen further.
“F-for real?!”
“Yup. I reckon he’ll be out of it for a while yet.”
Ouch. Poor guy,
Wincing, I finish off the rest of my toast. I’m a little earlier than usual, so I opt to squeeze in some extra reading time in my room before my usual Tuesday therapy session. Luckily Blondie had remembered to retrieve my book from where I’d dropped it in the sensory garden, allowing me to continue with my current chapter.
Let’s see, where did I last—ah, dingos. The name ‘dingos’ is used to label any wild dogs in Thailand, Malaysia, New Guinea and the Philippines. They belong to the family Canidae which is native to—
Tup tup tup
My head shoots up. I squint around my room, straining my ears. Same four walls. Same scenery. Nothing sticking out as unusual.
Great. Now I’ve started hearing things — again.
Rubbing a hand across my forehead, I return my focus to my book.
—native to Australia. Research suggests they were first introduced there anywhere from 4600 to 18,300 years ago by—
Tup tup tup
There it is again. I try to ignore it, gritting my teeth.
It’s all in your head. It’s all in your—
“Psst!”
I yelp, startled. The book clatters to the floor as I scramble to my feet.
It’s coming from…over there!
Unnerved, I stumble over to the leftmost wall, pressing my ear against it. In response, I lightly tap my hands on the painted brick, calling out hesitantly.
“Wh-who’s there?”
There’s no response from the other side. Frustrated, I hit my hands against the wall even harder. “Hello?!”
…still nothing. I feel my face start to burn with shame again, just about ready to give up when—
“Down here!”
I immediately recognise the familiar Scottish accent. My heart lifts.
So I wasn’t just hearing—wait, where am I going?
Carefully lowering myself to the ground, I study the base of the wall. At first I’m not sure what he’s talking about, but as I follow it along I finally see it — a small metal grate.
No way!
It’s…not the most comfortable of positions. I have to lie perfectly flat on my stomach to be able to press my face against it. Hopefully it’s enough.
“I’m down here!” I call back quietly, “Can you hear me?”
I don’t have to wait too long before I get a response.
“Aye, though you might want to speak up a wee bit. I can hear you, but only just about.”
“S-sorry, this is as close as I can get.”
I attempt to clear my throat. It doesn’t do a lot to help my hoarse voice. “Can you get any closer?”
“I don’t think so. I reckon this will be as good as we get.”
I hear him cough on the other side. “I’m sorry if I frightened you with that racket last night. I was just being shown my new ‘living arrangements’ — very much against my will, I might add.”
“Uhuh, you were kinda loud.”
“Och, then I apologise, lad.”
He gives a faint sheepish laugh. “Anyway, I just wanted to ask you a few questions if that’s arite? You seem like the type of lad that will tell me the truth.”
“Well, um…I’ll try my best,” I reply honestly, “What do you want to know?”
“Well, knowing exactly where I am would be a good start.”
He hesitates for a moment, concern entering his voice. “And more importantly, what’s a wee lad like you doing in here? You don’t sound much older than—wait, how old are you lad?”
I blink rapidly, already a little overwhelmed.
“I’m fourteen,” I answer quietly, “and um, we’re currently on a psych ward in Ivy—”
“Fourte—you’re a child!”
I flinch at his sudden shout. “Then that means—! Why, that connard—oh, pardon my French.”
“...I don’t even know what you said?”
“Well ah…let’s keep it that way, arite?”
“...if you say so.”
Okay, this guy’s already a little weird.
I take a moment to try and process that fact before I speak up again.
“Sorry, I don’t think I got your name back—”
“Oh goodness, where are my manners?” he gasps softly, “Apologies. I’m Dr Douglas Slade-McLaughlann, but everyone calls me Slade — and what’s your name, lad?”
“I’m Ashley — but Ash is fine too.”
I feel the corners of my mouth twitching into a small smile. “It’s nice to uh, meet you? Hear you? Ah, you know what I mean — but yeah. It looks like you’re technically my new neighbour, Dr Slade.”
“So it seems,” he replies, “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Ash. If only it were under better circumstances.”
“Yeah,” I admit, “but at least we get to talk a bit like this.”
“That’s very true, lad. I mean, me? I love a good chat, but the staff don’t seem to be very talkative so far. Most talkative has been that doctor-lad. Brown hair, glasses, struts around with a German accent?”
“You mean Dr Voss?” I guess, my eyes widening a little.
Could this guy have something to do with that ‘urgent matter’ he had to attend to?
“Aye, that’s the one. Dr Viktor Voss. Quite the serious one, isn’t he?”
He pauses for a moment. “How do you know him?”
“He’s my psychiatrist,” I explain, “and he may come off that way at first, but he’s actually really nice when you get to know him.”
My neighbour falls unnervingly silent.
“Has he ever hurt you?”
“Wha—no! Of course not, he’d never hurt anyone!”
I can’t help the defensive edge entering my voice. “He’s a doctor, so he’s just trying to help us get better — like all doctors do. That’s what happens on a psych ward.”
“Aye, I’m already familiar with that.”
He gives a helpless groan behind the grate. “Well...either way, I’ll do my best to protect both of us.”
Typical paranoid behaviour — yep, definitely a psych patient.
“Thanks, but you don’t have to worry,” I reassure him, “I’m doing okay, really.”
I lightly shrug my shoulders. “Although I’m a little surprised they put you on this ward. You sound…older...than the other patients here.”
“A ‘temporary measure’ he said. The adult ward was full, but I’m sure I’ll be relocated up there once they find an available bed to suit my relevant ‘needs’.”
I hear him snicker loudly through the grate. “Although I assume I’m really here to ‘unlock the secrets behind immortality’ — or whatever they think of next.”
“...immortality?” I repeat slowly.
“Well I doubt it’s because they want my good looks,” he replies casually, feigning a sigh, “Either way, I won’t be here long enough to find out. They all try to get it and they all fail eventually.”
I begin chewing on my lip awkwardly.
“So you…think you’re immortal?”
“Oh I am immortal, lad,” he answers simply, “Two hundred and…nine? No, ten. Two hundred and ten years old to be exact.”
...suuure.
I’m glad he can’t see me wincing from behind the grate.
“Aye, I know it’s hard to believe. At first I thought I could just heal any injury I got, but as it turned out, it was actually much more than that. Even after being dealt many fatal injuries, I’ve always come out without a single scratch — so as far as I know, there’s no way to physically kill me~”
All I can do is blink in shock as he continues his deluded jabbering. “Don’t ask me how, I have no idea how it works myself and no one’s actually figured it out yet. Perhaps they never will. Who knows?”
…he’s really not joking around, is he? He actually believes he is immortal.
I almost snort. Heh, like how I used to believe I could make green fire come out of my friggin’ hands. Totally logical.
“That’s um…very impressive?”
“I suppose it is, when you put it like that — although I’m not the only one with a clever party trick. All my friends have their own unique powers too. New York City is rife with supers after all — and then of course there’s my partner. He’s a literal angel from the heavens~”
“...uhuh?”
“Aye and he also happens to be possessed by a demon as well, but we don’t talk about him. Nasty piece of work, he is.”
…yep, this guy has totally lost it. I bet he’s not even a real doctor either.
“Oh, I’m very sorry, lad. I didn’t realise I was rambling.”
He takes a moment to catch his breath. “So we’re in a ’psych ward’, are we?”
“Yep, Ivy Institute,” I answer, glad to turn the topic back to a more ‘normal’ conversation, “I’m not sure where exactly it is, but we’re definitely somewhere in California.”
“Och, that’s quite a way away from home,” he comments, “If only I could get a signal out to my friends. They’re probably already searching for me — and I’ll make sure they get you out too.”
Slowly, I feel my scepticism being replaced by a dull sadness. Guilt twinges in my chest.
No, it’s not his fault. To him, all of this is real. He’s probably just as distressed as I was. He doesn’t need anyone judging him right now.
I take a deep breath.
“...it will be okay, Dr Slade,” I reassure him softly, “You’ll get to be with your friends again soon. We just have to get better first, okay? I know it’s scary, but just do what they say, take your meds and everything will be fine.”
I hesitate when he doesn’t respond right away, “and if it helps, you can talk to me whenever you want, okay?”
It’s the least I can do really, especially when he’s clearly struggling.
“...that’s very kind of you, lad.”
I can almost hear the smile behind his words, when a familiar clacking sounds down the corridor.
“Sorry, that’s Dr Voss. I have to go.”
“Ash...please be careful around him.”
Poor guy. He sounds genuinely afraid for me.
Right on cue, the door opens. As always, he greets me with his usual warm smile. The leftover weight on my chest is completely lifted away, replaced with a flooding sense of relief.
“Dr Voss! You’re back!”
“Ah, Ashley! It’s good to see you again — how have you been?”
“All good, thanks. Treatment went fine and I’ve been making good progress on that book you gave me. I’m already on the letter D!”
“That’s wonderful to hear. It sounds as if Dr Allen has been the perfect substitute in my absence.”
He stretches out one of his arms welcomingly. “Shall we head downstairs for your session?”
“Sure let’s—”
“So you’re keeping children here as well, are you?”
Both our heads jerk in the direction of the small grate. Dr Voss raises his eyebrows at the other patient’s threat. “You kept that one quiet, didn’t you, lad?”
“I see you’ve already met your new neighbour,” he deduces, “I apologise for this, Ashley. Rest assured it will only be a short-term measure until I find him a more…suitable room on another ward—”
“Oi! Don’t ignore me! I know you can hear me, Viktor!”
“Yes, I can hear you, Slade — and as I told you last night, you have nothing to worry about. My job is to help my patients, not hurt them — and as we work through your treatment plan, you’ll soon start to feel a lot better—”
“Treatment my arse!” he growls, “Don’t you listen to him, lad!”
“Um…”
Dr Voss pinches his nose. Even he’s struggling with Dr Slade.
“I promise I’ll be back later and we’ll talk through your treatment plan together,” he states clearly, “Until then, please try and calm down, alright? I’ll have the nurses bring you something to keep you entertained, but until then, please be patient.”
“Och, a mad scientist and a comedian,” my neighbour snarks, “Hilarious.”
The ‘mad scientist’ just sighs heavily.
“Whatever you say, Slade. Shall we, Ashley?”
I bite my lip, glancing back at the little grate. Dr Slade finally falls quiet, his grumbles barely audible. At the same time I process his words again.
“Ash…please be careful around him.”
Krissy’s paranoid cries soon join in, faint and distant.
“The treatment! Don’t trust the treatment! Whatever they give you, don’t—!”
I grit my teeth. My own mental voice drowns them both out.
Do what they say. Take your meds. No setbacks. Everything will be fine — fact.
Peering back at my doctor, I nod.
“Yes, Dr Voss.”
Everything. Will be. Fine.
So here we have Chapter 3! Including the introduction of an amazing character by an equally amazing friend, the wonderful @whumpsmith, creator of the completely deluded 'Doc'. I had a lot of fun with the dialogue and the structuring in this one, apologies if it was a little difficult to read, but it was meant to reflect the disorientation involved at that current moment. (although even after trying to edit some of it just won't transfer over properly :P)
As usual I'd be so appreciative of any feedback to help me improve further. I'll make an update on Thursday with Chapter 4 and then probably update Chapter 5 on Saturday 27th December after the holidays are all finished. Thank you so much for taking the time to read this and have an amazing weekend! :D x
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‘—you have come through to voicemail. Unfortunately, the person you are calling is not available right now. Please leave a message after the tone. When you are finished, please hang up.’
My heart sinks at the all-too-familiar sound. Swallowing my disappointment, I hold the phone close against my ear, sighing.
“Hey Uncle James, it’s me again. I hope you’re all okay. I um…I was just wondering when you were thinking of coming to visit? Or if you’re too busy then maybe we can arrange a catch-up call sometime soon? It’s just been a while and I…I miss you guys.”
I draw in a deep breath, blinking hard. “S-so yeah. Please call back when you can. Take care for now. I-I love you.”
Deflated, I reluctantly end the call. The mental volume in my head slowly creeps up again, peaking at a cutting crescendo.
Of course they didn’t pick up. They’re too busy living their lives without you. They finally can, now that you’re not around to screw things up for them—
“Are you okay, kiddo?”
Tats takes the phone from my limp hands, sending me a sympathetic glance.
“...I’m fine.”
It’s obviously a lie, but I’ve become that used to saying it now that it’s almost an automatic response. “It’s okay, really.”
Tats doesn’t look like he believes it for a second, but thankfully he doesn’t pry. After a few seconds of silence, he tries a different tactic.
“You know, I think they just put a movie on in the Rec Area,” he starts with a supportive smile, “Maybe it will take your mind off things?”
…I guess it would. Nothing better to do right now than sit stewing in my thoughts.
“...can we go there now?”
“Whenever you’re ready, kiddo.”
“...thanks, Tats.”
Dragging myself to my feet, I quietly follow him down the usual corridors towards our shared Rec Area. The spacious hall is divided into separate sections to offer us a selection of different recreational activities, depending on our mood or energy-levels. Closest to the door are six evenly-spaced tables. A variety of crafts are neatly arranged in the centre of each one, ranging from themed colouring books and sheets, to mindfulness puzzles and drawings, complete with a multitude of different coloured pens, stamps and shiny stickers — no scissors or sharp items of course.
We are still in the psych ward after all.
To my right is a generous-sized bookcase, offering different genres and titles to keep us entertained during our days here, or to use for schoolwork during our mandatory study periods in the afternoons. We’re allowed to take them anywhere in the hospital, as long as we remember to return them by the end of the week. I’ve actually gotten through a fair few of them so far, on my good days at least. Otherwise, my head is just way too tired to be able to concentrate. The left side of the hall differs, offering a choice of tabletop games we can play with some of the other residents. It seems as if it was used recently, given the bunch of messily discarded cards tossed across the closest table. The board games are decent enough too — just simple rules, with nothing too complex or competitive. Unlike Lormill — which had an actual PlayNation we could use — we’re not so lucky here. However, we do have a cinema style TV that we can use to watch movies — locked behind a protective screen, of course.
“Here we are, kiddo,” Tats announces, “Go grab a seat.”
The same movie Tats mentioned is already playing — presumably some light-hearted cartoon, from the looks of it. Some of the ‘zombies’ are already clustered around it, sitting in a mix of grey and white amongst the colourful beanbags. None of them even acknowledge me entering the room, continuing to stare up at the screen with amused smiles.
Honestly, I feel a little like a zombie myself right now.
A few familiar faces occupy the other seats. Thalia sends me a tired nod as I drop onto the beanbag next to her, tucking my knees into my chest.
“Rough day?” she asks, clearly noticing my expression.
“...could be better.”
“...sucks to be us, huh?”
I can only nod in reply, mindlessly following along with the cartoon critters scampering across the screen. That’s really all I have the energy for right now. From a combination of the meds, my current mood and the usual nightmares still disrupting my sleep, my mental battery is almost fried.
It’s just a bad day, that’s all. Tomorrow will be better—
“Hey, you want this?”
She hands me an orange flavoured candy bar. “I don’t like orange and they didn’t have anything else left at snack time. It’s yours if you want it.”
I hesitate for a moment, glancing at the tempting treat. Eventually I decide to take it, giving her a grateful nod as I accept her unexpected offering. Unwrapping the bar, I break off a small piece to nibble on. It tastes surprisingly good.
“Thanks, Thalia.”
She responds with a lazy thumbs up, the ghost of a smile playing on her lips. Clearly neither of us are in a chatty mood tonight, which is fine for both of us. With our ‘conversation’ over, I return my attention to the movie, allowing it to distract me from my current barrage of thoughts. It’s only a brief form of temporary escape from our dreary reality, but it works. I’m barely aware of time passing, absorbed by the juvenile plot beats. At about the half-way point of the movie — when the feline trio are trying to hitch a rocket into space or something — Tats suddenly appears in front of me.
“Sorry to interrupt, kiddo, but the doc wants a quick word.”
His words immediately set me on edge.
“...did I do something wrong?” I murmur, tightening my hold on the rest of the candy bar.
“No, nothing like that. It’s just a quick chat.”
“Oh…okay.”
Not wanting to keep him waiting, I stumble clumsily to my feet. Thalia shoots me another thumbs up as Tats leads me out of the Rec Area. We silently return to the ward together, where he leads me towards the staff office. Dr Voss is already waiting for me inside, seemingly mid-conversation on the phone.
“Of course, I understand — I promise, it will be my top priority, so…yes I shall keep you updated throughout. …thank you, sir. Have a good evening yourself. Goodbye.”
He ends the call, sliding his phone back into his pocket before greeting me with his usual warm smile. “Ah, Ashley. Thank you for coming. I hope I haven’t interrupted anything?”
“No, I was um, just in the Rec Area.”
Although I still don’t know why I’m here.
“That’s good.”
As if sensing my confusion, he begins to explain. “I just wanted to let you know in advance that I will not be around for the rest of the week. Something urgent has come up that I need to see to, which will unfortunately require me to be offsite.”
I feel my eyes widening.
“Y-you’re going away?” I gasp, my heart rate already beginning to pick up, “You’re leaving—”
“It’s only for a few days,” he reassures me, “I know it isn’t ideal, but I have to prioritise my patients cross-site.”
“But—!”
“I’ve already prepared everything for your treatment tomorrow and Monday, just in case. Dr Allen has very kindly agreed to oversee it in my absence.”
He crouches down to my height, attempting an encouraging look. “If all goes to plan, then I should be back next week and we’ll return to your usual schedule, alright?”
His words make sense. Of course he has other patients besides me, but the threat of leaving is oddly triggering.
He said he was with me ‘the whole way’ — literally, he said that just over a week ago!
My stomach lurches. And now he’s just...going away?! If he’s away from me then how will I cope without—!
“You are going to come back right?” I demand, panic suddenly rising in my chest, “Y-you’re not just going to give up on me? Leave me to it on my own?”
“Ashley—”
“Please, I—I can do better if—!”
“Ashley, breathe.”
Shuddering, I take as deep a breath as I can. “Now again. That’s it.”
The second one comes a bit easier, then the third. “Tell me five things you can see.”
“Um…chair?”
I force myself to focus as he helps to guide me back towards a calmer state. “Desk. Posters. Wall. Curtains.”
“Good boy – what colour are the curtains?”
“Um…green?”
“Very good. Now four things you can touch.”
I reach out my hands, groping around for things to feel: the cotton of my shirt, the smooth wood of the desk, the cold lino flooring. Every touch helps to settle me as we work through the rest of the grounding steps.
Three things I can hear. Two things I can smell. One thing I can taste.
The lingering tang of the orange candy on my tongue is the final necessary step. The tight band leaves my chest.
“...okay. I-I’m okay.”
I take another deep breath for good measure. Shame begins to trickle in, taking its place. “I-I’m sorry.”
“No need to apologise, Ashley. I should have realised how this might affect you.”
He sits down in his chair, mild concern in his eyes. “And of course I wouldn’t give up on you — you’re my patient.”
He strokes his chin in thought. “Do you feel as though someone else has given up on you?”
I avert my gaze for a moment, reflecting on his words. It doesn’t take me to realise the link to this evening’s events.
“Everyone gives up on me eventually, Dr Voss,” I murmur, “including my family. They’re ashamed of me — fact.”
Dr Voss frowns.
“What makes you say that?”
“They never answer my calls. They never come to visit me anymore. What more evidence do you need?”
I give my head a hard shake. “They must hate me.”
“Ashley, I highly doubt that is the case,” he says quietly, “Times like this can be very taxing for everyone. I know it is easy to feel abandoned, but it is crucial to remember that you are not alone here. Your family does care about you, my boy — and so do we.”
“We’ll always support you, honey. No matter what.”
I hear their voices in my head, telling me that they care.
“And remember — if you need anything at all, we’ll be right there, champ.”
My fingers flex by my sides. I feel my head panging as it battles against the conflicting evidence.
But they’re not here, are they? They don’t really care about you. Actions speak louder than words, remember?
I grit my teeth.
“...I guess.”
Neither of us presses the matter any further. Instead, I shift my focus back towards him. “So…you’ll be back next week?”
“Tuesday at the very latest,” he emphasises, “and until then, perhaps this little surprise will distract you from those negative thoughts.”
He picks up the brown paper bag on the desk and pulls out a single item — a book.
“Y-you bought this for me?” I ask, stunned, “but...why?”
“Because you deserve it,” he answers gently, “I was going to give it to you tomorrow, but of course now I will not be on site, so…why not a little earlier?”
He presses it into my hands with a fond smile. “I know how much you like your nature photography, so I figured this would be perfect for you.”
I hesitantly take the book from his hands. Stroking my fingers over its smooth hardback surface, I take in the beautiful embossed cover. Vibrant images of real-life animals stare up at me from the cover, with bright splashes of colour surrounding the title.
“The A to Z Guide of Nature’s Wonders,” I read aloud, slowly turning it over in my hands. “‘A two-hundred page guide to nature’s most wondrous wildlife’.”
I blink back at him, touched by his thoughtful gesture. “I…I love it. Thanks.”
“You are more than welcome, Ashley.”
I hug the precious gift against my chest, almost managing a smile. “And remember, if you need anything at all in my absence, then you can ask Dr Allen or any of the nurses, as they are all aware of your treatment plan, alright?”
“Mhm — and you will come back?”
Just a few days. You’ll be fine for just a few days—
“I promise, my boy. I would never abandon you — fact.”
And from the sheer sincerity in his voice, I genuinely believe him.
The rest of the week is…actually okay, despite my initial fears. Naturally it has been weird without Dr Voss around, but not as nerve-wracking a transition as I expected. I still have my usual daily routine to keep me focused and treatment day goes smoothly with no complications at all. Dr Allen is nice enough, but of course he’s not Dr Voss. After that, the weekend itself is pretty chill. We get extra time to sleep in with a later breakfast, optional wellbeing activities and plenty of free time. As expected, some patients choose to spend it in complete isolation, like the zombies. Others head over to the Rec Area for some downtime, or…presumably to hang out with their families.
Still nothing from mine.
What else did you expect?
…it’s getting harder to tune out those nagging reminders.
“Everything okay, Ashley?”
I glance up from my current page, giving a thumbs up to my supervising nurse, an unfamiliar face. I simply assign him the nickname ‘Blondie’, due to his overly-bleached locks.
“All good, thanks. Just enjoying my new book.”
I’ve only had it for two days, but I’ve already gotten through sections A to C. I’d spent most of yesterday cooped up in my room reading it, but today I had decided on a much-needed change of scenery. Rather than the usual four walls of my box-like room, I am instead surrounded by the lush greenery of our indoor sensory garden. Mixtures of colourful shrubs and flowers line the main borders around me, providing a vibrant and calming space. Even though most of them are probably artificial, the amount of care put into every section makes it impossible to tell. I tilt my head back, peering up at the glass windows above my head. Sunlight streams in through them, bathing my occupied area in warm shafts of light. Floral and fruity scents waft all around us, carried by a gentle artificial breeze. The aroma of fresh lavender tickles my nostrils, soothing both my mind and my body. A further collection of fans and air-filters lie hidden among the rocky outcrops, no doubt responsible for the air circulating through the entire garden. One of them blows against my neck, bringing goosebumps to my skin’s surface.
There’s really nothing quite like the sensory garden.
As the name suggests, the garden is meant to stimulate each of our major senses to promote mindfulness and wellbeing. To create that, the plants all have their own unique textures for us to feel, aiding with grounding. There’s even an area with puddles and mud to dip your feet into for an extra immersive approach, located somewhere within the sensory maze. They also have wireless buttons connected to hidden microspeakers scattered throughout the garden. Each button is linked to a different audio file. which can all be toggled to our liking. Even the simplest sounds can make a huge difference: delicate birdsong, pattering raindrops, quiet soothing music — and so much more. As if that wasn’t enough, we can even control the scenery around us. Instead of walls, several giant screens span the borders of the garden. Each one displays a vivid selection of moving virtual backgrounds, connected to a feature that allows you to change the setting to your preference. We can pick from a wide range of beautiful locations, from your typical Japanese cherry-blossom garden to a gorgeous mountain view. There’s even the option to change the season displayed. Needless to say, we have plenty of spots to sit and admire the views, from multiple sturdy benches to little hanging wicker chairs in a few isolated ‘quiet’ areas for those who prefer their own company.
It’s the perfect place to settle my unquiet mind.
“Huh? Are you guys getting this?”
As always, a small group of nurses hover a short distance away, just to make sure we’re not doing anything stupid. I notice Blondie quickly rising from his bench, checking something on his phone. The other nurses with him follow suit. Urgency flashes across their faces.
"Yeah — you two check this floor, we’ll stay here. They can’t have gone far.”
Two of them immediately break away, swiftly leaving the garden and the rest of us behind.
Huh. Wonder what all that was about.
Shaking my head, I return my attention to my book, flicking through the pages to the relaxing melody of distant birdsong, mentally reading along.
Dassie rats are rodents that live in rocky outcrops, desert hills and plateaus in southwestern Africa. Interestingly, they are the only members…only members of…their family…Petromuri…dae...
My eyes begin to feel heavy. At some point the book falls from my lap, landing on the smooth grass below me. I have no idea how long I doze off for — until a loud rustling startles me awake.
“Huh?”
I sit bolt upright, checking in both directions for the source. I can’t see anything obvious at all.
Probably just imagining it as—
It sounds again — louder. Abandoning my book, I hop out of the chair. My feet take a few cautious steps down the cobble-stoned path. I’ve only counted five other patients out here today, but none were over this way as far as I—
Crunch crunch crunch
My eyes widen. I stay as quiet as I can, straining my ears to pick out the nature of the sounds.
Imagination already slipping into overdrive, I begin to follow the sounds, half-running to keep up. My search takes me into the sensory maze. I skid to a stop after realising I’ve already lost track of my bearings, jerking my head left and right. No sign of anything.
“Is…is anyone there?”
No one responds. My anxiety grows as I begin following the path to the left. The rustling gradually grows louder and louder, amplified with every turn.
As if something is running right towards—
“AGH!”
Something slams into me. The force instantly knocks me to the ground, reeling.
“Ngghow…”
Sharp gravel digs into my exposed arms. I grit my teeth from the impact, attempting to nurse the throbbing behind my temples. My pained groan sounds alongside an unfamiliar soft cry.
“Nggha…o-ow…”
Huh?
Blinking the haze from my eyes, I stare across at the recovering teen opposite me. Despite their obvious wince, they manage to pull themselves back to their knees, rubbing their forehead. Dozens of random sheets surround both of our fallen forms, scattered like confetti on the ground.
“Nngh…”
The teen slowly peels their eyes open, staring across at me groggily. After a few more seconds, their honey brown irises lock onto mine, slowly widening in realisation. “O-oh God, I’m so sorry, I didn’t—are you okay?”
“Y-yeah, I’m fine,” I reassure them quickly, dusting myself off.
“Good—I-I mean, not good that I ran into you but—oh no.”
We both take in the strewn pieces of paper littering the path. Their hands immediately start scrabbling for them in a panic. I instantly take note of how jittery they are — the obvious shaking of their hands, their rapid breathing and especially the frantic flickering of their eyes.
Something’s wrong.
“I—sorry, let me just—let me just get all these back in their—”
“H-here, let me help.”
With much steadier hands, I begin picking up the nearest sheets, neatly shuffling them together. They might have been the one to run into me, but I can’t exactly leave them in that mess.
“O-oh, you don’t need to—”
“It’s no big deal, really.”
Even with my reassurances, they still blink back at me hesitantly through their blonde curtained strands. As I grab a few more fallen papers — presumably from the large purple pad under their arm — I manage to take in the rest of their features. If I had to guess, they’re probably around my age, although their gender is harder to determine from a simple glance. Longer locks brush past their chin, with the two front sections pulled back and secured with a silver hairband into a tiny ponytail. Their light grey shirt almost hangs off of their skinny form, with bits of gravel stubbornly clinging to their matching pants.
“W-well anyway…thanks.”
They gather up the last scrap, hastily stuffing them all into their pad. I frown, a little uneasy from the anxious glances they keep throwing over their shoulder.
“Are you…okay?”
They don’t answer me right away, holding their tense position.
“I-I uh—”
“Down there! They went that way!”
The nurses’ distant shouts aren’t lost on me — neither is the sharp gasp that leaves my companion’s lips. Fear flashes in their eyes as they jerk their head in the direction of the garden entrance. It doesn’t take long for me to figure it out.
“They’re after you?”
The blonde just nods shakily, gritting their teeth. “Did you try to run away?”
“Mmm,” they answer with a nervous swallow, “can you help me?”
I peer back at them hesitantly, conflicted. Fleeting memories of my own stupid escape attempt instantly drift back to me.
You shouldn’t get in the way. Just keep your head down. Not your problem—
“Look I—I just need a place to hide—just for a bit!”
“I-I don’t—”
“Please!”
Desperation fills their voice. My body freezes.
“Please! Help me!”
A familiar voice echoes in my head — terrified.
No—
“Ash-Tree, PLEASE!”
Their cries are way too similar. Every bit of their expression feels the same, from the dread in their paling face, to their panicked breathing.
But I can’t just leave them—
“Check all over — they’re in here somewhere!”
One more glance at their tear-filled eyes is enough for me to make my decision. I grit my teeth tightly.
Hopefully I don’t regret this!
“O-okay, come on.”
“Wh-wha—?!”
They release a startled yelp as I snatch up their hand, quickly pulling them to their feet.
“I know a spot we can hide, follow me!”
Without another word, I tug them through the maze. Their grip tightens as we stumble around the corners, checking regularly for any staff. Rustling sounds out all around us. Footsteps resound along the paths no doubt searching for their runaway patient.
We better not run into them!
My companion stumbles after me. They’re a little unsteady on their feet, but we eventually make it around the last corner. Doubt continues to scream through my mind.
You must be mad — they’re going to catch them sooner or later. You'll only get yourself in trouble too—!
“Wait!”
I almost miss their warning cry. Ducking out of sight, we press against the fake foliage to avoid one of the uniformed security guards. We also grab the chance to catch our breath. As my companion pants slightly, my eyes quickly survey the area.
Where is it—where is it?!
I scan the whole clearing. A few frantic seconds later, I find it — the willow.
“Head towards that tree!” I hiss, “There’s a small tunnel underneath it. We’ll stay hidden there until they’re gone.”
I brace myself in preparation, waiting until the coast is clear. “Okay, ready? Now!”
The two of us sprint across the cobblestones. With no witnesses, we soon make it to the safe spot. I usher the teen safely into the tunnel, scrambling inside after them. It’s hardly the largest or the most comfortable hiding spot I could have picked. Claustrophobia soon threatens to kick in. The two of us press against each other in the unexpectedly tiny space, our knees pulled tightly into our chests. We wait in silence for about half a minute, doing everything possible to not to freak out right now.
“...are they still there?” they eventually whisper, trying to steady their breathing.
“Um…”
It’s hard to see a lot from our current position. I squint through the gaps in the leaves, watching out for any uniforms. “They’re checking the opposite side of the garden.”
I make sure to keep my own voice equally hushed. “Just stay low. I doubt they’ll look down here.”
“U-uhuh…”
They muffle a cough in their shirt, hunching next to me as we hear the faint barking of one of the security guards.
Yep, they’re definitely further away now—
“Th-thanks so much for this.”
I catch familiar traces of shame in their eyes. “I-I’m sorry for dragging you into this. I don’t want to get you in trouble, but—but I can’t let them take me back there. I can’t have any more of that…thing. I just—I just can’t!”
“What thing?” I ask, a little unnerved.
“...the treatment.”
My companion begins to tear up again. “I-I don’t know what they’re giving me, but it’s definitely not anything to make me feel better!”
They shake their head helplessly. “I just can’t take it anymore. That’s why I have to get out — we all need to get out, before things get any worse for—”
“W-wait, wait — what are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about this place. There’s something off about it — all of it.”
They suddenly flip open their purple pad and feverishly begin flicking through the pages. I alternate my gaze between them and the space outside, making sure we’re still safely hidden. “Look I—I know I must sound deluded right now, but the evidence is in here.”
“In your...sketchpad?” I confirm, catching multiple coloured post-it notes and labels pasted amongst the pages.
“Uhuh — basically I uh, have some pretty wack memory issues, so I use everything in here to help fill the gaps.”
I notice the coloured stickers dividing the pad into sections. “Reminders, routines, notes— it all goes in here. It’s how I keep track of everything – including anything out of place.”
Despite their rambling, I can’t help but admire their level of organisation.
“That’s pretty impressive.”
“O-oh, thanks — I mean there’s a lot of stuff to check over, but it is kinda useful.”
The tiny hint of pride in their voice doesn’t last long. “A-anyway, I’ve been keeping entries of suspicious activity throughout my admission.”
“What sort of ‘suspicious activity’?”
They tap the current page of their sketchpad in response. Frowning, I shuffle over to get a better look, reading over their surprisingly neat scribbles.
* Treatment side effects –> burning, prickling, pain
* Beg them to stop giving it to me but they won’t?
* Waking up in different places –> moving me around? Why?
* Nurses lying —> tell me things that aren't true
…so basically a lot like me when I had my mental breakdown at the start.
“Look,” I start gently, “I know it seems scary, but they’re just trying to make us better—”
“No, they’re keeping us prisoner here,” they argue quietly, “They won’t even let me see my mom and dad. I just—I just know something is going on and no one will believe me!”
I can hardly bring myself to tell them the same thing I was told. Instead, I offer them a sympathetic look.
“I know what that feels like. I used to think the same too.”
They blink back at me, their expression becoming more hopeful.
“You did? Then…you know I’m not making this up?”
“...I know.”
Their features soften in relief. Genuine gratitude sweeps across their face.
“Th-thanks.”
I exchange a tiny smile with them in response. A hushed silence falls between us as we continue to listen to the crunching footsteps outside. It sounds as if some of them are heading this way.
Don’t come over here—
“I’m Krissy, by the way,” they whisper, “What about you?”
“Ashley.”
I pause, suddenly realising how accustomed to my full name I’ve become since my admission. “But you can call me Ash.”
Their brown irises meet my green-eyed gaze. “Nice to meet you, Krissy.”
Though I wish it could have been under better circumstances.
“You too, Ash—”
“Check over there!”
Both of us instantly stiffen. The footsteps begin approaching our hiding spot.
“Shh, shhh! They’re right outside!”
We’re going to be in so much trouble—
“C-crap…!”
Breathing shakily, they tear their pencil from the pad binder and begin frantically scribbling something down on a fresh page. After that they cradle it against their chest, backing up further into the tunnel. Our shoulders brush against each other as we try to—
“Ack!”
The tunnel roof quivers. A few loose stones fall from the ceiling, sediment staining our uniforms. We throw our hands over our mouths, desperately trying to muffle our betraying cries.
Too late—
“They’re in the tunnel!”
One pair of footsteps turns into several. They’ve found us — and there is no way we are getting past all those nurses, let alone the security guards.
Yep, this was a terrible idea.
“We’ve got the whole tunnel surrounded, kid,” one of the nurses calls, “Just come on out of there nice and slowly, alright?”
My companion sucks in a breath, their face paling with dread.
“Ash—”
“Please don’t make this harder on yourself. We just want to get you back out here safely, okay?”
Krissy gulps nervously, clinging to their sketchpad even tighter. Taking a deep breath myself, I attempt to comfort them.
“Don’t fight them,” I urge, “It’ll be okay—”
“No—I-I don’t want anymore of that—”
“You’ll be fine,” I emphasise, “Just do as they say.”
“See? Why don’t you listen to your friend, kid—”
“And why don’t you just leave us alone, Big Nose!” they retaliate through gritted teeth.
The nearest guard — with an undeniably big nose — sounds less than amused at their snark.
“You’ve got ten seconds to come out of there, or we’re coming in. Nine. Eight. Seven...”
I wince as he continues counting. Krissy balls their fists, their brief burst of confidence starting to fade. Before I can stop myself, I grab onto one of their hands, squeezing it.
“C-come on. We’ll go out together, okay?”
“Together?”
Their eyes shine with defeated tears. As Big Nose hits ‘three’, they tighten their grip on my hand. “‘K-kay.”
Nodding back to them, we begin to shuffle out of the tunnel.
“Hold the countdown!” I call, “We’re coming out!”
“You heard them, give them space!”
True to their word, all of them are standing back, giving us enough room to stumble out. A few fake leaves brush against my shoulder as I guide Krissy back into the light. Dozens of eyes stare back at us.
Okay, now what? What happens—ah!
Strong hands tug us apart. Krissy’s hand leaves mine as Big Nose yanks them aside. I hear each and every one of their protesting cries, even as Blondie tries to hustle me towards the entrance.
“No—stop!” they cry pleadingly, “Get off me! Get off!”
“Easy—easy! Settle down, you’re okay—”
“No!”
One of the nurses grunts in pain. They must have accidentally kicked them in the struggle.
“Kid, just stop — nngh — little help over here!”
Despite Blondie’s arms around my waist, I continue trying to pull away from him, especially as they pull out a needle.
“Wh-what are you—no!”
I begin squirming myself, shaking my head frantically. “Don’t hurt them! Kris—!”
“It’s okay, they’re just going to give them a shot before they hurt themself, okay?”
“But—!”
“Don’t try to be a hero, kid,” Big Nose warns me, forcibly holding the writhing blonde, “Get him back to his ward. We’ll deal with—”
“Ash! Ash!”
Krissy continues to shriek my name, thrashing their head to look at me. “D-don’t forget! The treatment! Don’t trust the treatment! Whatever they give you, don’t—gnnk!”
I’m too far away to see the actual shot, but ten seconds later their loud shrieks have morphed into helpless groans. Blondie takes full advantage of my shock and forcefully nudges me back into the main hospital. I try to peer over my shoulder, obviously shaken.
“Wh-what are they doing to them?” I demand, feeling the unpleasantly familiar sensation of panic, “Th-they’re not gonna hurt them right? They were just scared and I—!”
“Ash, no one is going to hurt them.”
“But—!”
“They’ll just bring them back to their ward to sleep off the drugs and probably add on some restrictions to prevent them from running off again. That’s it.”
He gives me a serious look. “Now go and calm down a bit. Dinner’s in half an hour.”
I want to argue with him further, but I know there’s no point.
It’s for their own good — just like it’s for my own good.
“...okay.”
Our walk back to Poplar Ward is filled with silence. No matter how hard I try, I can’t get Krissy’s warning out of my head, even when I’m safely back in my room.
Which leads me to another question: what actually was it?
The paranoid ramblings of a fellow messed up teen?
Or something more…sinister?
Here's chapter 2! Thank you so much to everyone who has taken the time to read the previous chapters and this one, hopefully it was enjoyable and a nice way to drip-feed further uncertainty into the setting and story. We can also consider this chapter as Krissy's official introduction. I absolutely love them as a character :D As usual I'd be so appreciative of any feedback to help me improve further. I'll try to maintain my weekly update schedule, but of course with the holidays it may be pushed out a little. Have a wonderful week and see you all soon! x
Tag List (by popular demand!)
I don’t even try to stifle my protesting groan as the door swings open. Three seconds later, Pierce and Tats make their usual overly-energetic entrance. The former playfully raps on the wall with his knuckles.
“It’s seven-thirty, kiddo. Time to get up~”
“Nnn, five more minutes, Pierce,” I mumble, stubbornly tugging the covers tighter around me.
“Come on, rise and shine,” Tats urges, simply pulling the sheets off again, “You don’t want to miss out on breakfast, right~?”
I just answer with an unintelligible grumble, rubbing groggily at my eyes. Reluctantly, I begin to surface from pillow hibernation, stretching a little to ease the collected tension in my muscles. Even after god knows how many nights sleeping on that mattress, I’m still not used to how firm it is.
“Atta boy.”
Pierce sends me a small smile, his silver hooped nose-piercing glinting in the light. Tats — as you’d expect — gets his affectionate nickname from the collection of carefully inked tattoos across his arms and neck. Somehow, the names I made up for them since the start of my admission stuck pleasantly well. They even find them amusing, hence our mutual decision to keep them that way until the end of my admission — whenever that may be.
“Alright, let’s check your choker. Head back.”
I stay perfectly still as Pierce messes with a few buttons on the choker. Tats steps closer to examine it, tapping a bunch of numbers into his E-pad from the device’s screen.
“Vitals are looking good this morning.”
Good news — I’m still alive.
“Meds next?” I ask, knowing the routine like the back of my hand by now.
“Yep. Just confirm your name and date of birth for me?”
“Ashley Reed. September twenty-eighth, 2023.”
With a tired murmur, I accept the plastic cup from him. A bunch of brightly coloured pills sit at the bottom. Tats pours me another cup of water to help wash them down. I stare at them hesitantly for a second — just a second — before swallowing every last one of them. My mouth opens up without instruction, allowing them to check that I really have taken my meds, unlike my former tricks.
No more messing around, Ash.
You're here to get better.
“It’s…Tuesday today, right?” I check, trying to get my bearings.
“Close, it’s Wednesday,” Tats confirms.
Right. Treatment day. Of course.
“Alright, you know the drill. Be ready to go in fifteen.”
“Will do.”
I wait for the door to close behind them before finally starting to move. The initial steps are always slow and robotic, as if I’ve become a rusty animatronic overnight, but gradually I get into a rhythm. After that it’s just muscle memory, playing out my same morning routine every day like clockwork.
As usual, I begin with my clothes — the same ones every day. An oversized t-shirt and long matching pants make up the standard uniform of Ivy Institute. The shirt comes in two colours — grey or white. I ended up with the latter — which I actually prefer, since grey is such a miserable colour anyway.
Oh well, better get dressed.
I pull out a clean set from my closet and carefully pull them on, allowing my fingers to trace over the delicate embroidery on the left chest pocket. The cotton brushes against my skin as it hangs over my fragile form, loose and comfortable. A fresh pair of light blue grippy socks follows. Personally, they’re my favourite part of the whole uniform. Not only are they super cosy, but the floor would be a pretty lethal slipping hazard without them.
Next — wash up.
Fumbling with my striped toiletry bag, I pick out my essentials and shuffle into the tiny adjoining bathroom. I can’t help but pause for a moment as I peer at the mirror, taking in my own mostly unremarkable features. Messy hazel hair — slightly longer cut at the neck — slanted overgrown bangs — that could really use a decent trim — wide forest green eyes — blinking hauntingly back — pale red lips — slightly cracked from multiple bouts of nervous chewing — and fair skin, emphasising the multiple clusters of freckles across my face.
That’s me. Just plain old boring freak me. It’s like I can hear my own reflection talking to me in my head.
What does anyone actually see in you?
The brush tears savagely through my knotted strands. Semi-presentable, I snatch up the toothbrush and scrub it across my teeth until I’m spitting blood into the spotless ceramic sink. My fingers prickle as I splash cool water on my face. Gazing back at my blurry reflection, I take a deep breath in — hold — and exhale.
No. Today’s going to be a good day.
With that positive affirmation, Pierce and Tats make their punctual return.
“Good, you’re all ready for breakfast — let’s go~”
My feet shuffle after them as we wordlessly take the usual route towards the canteen. Thankfully it’s not too far, although my stomach is starting to grumble by now.
“Get whatever you want and then grab a seat at your assigned table. We’ll just be over here if you need anything.”
I nod back at them, taking up my position in the queue to be served. This space — like the Rec Area — is shared by residents from both Poplar and Willow Ward. Our white and grey shirts stick out like a sore thumb amongst the green canteen walls, adorned with woodland collages of flora and fauna to provide a calming atmosphere. A neat setup of cream coloured rectangular tables and brown-backed chairs are spread throughout the canteen for staff and patients alike. As usual, I’m handed my tray and plastic cutlery before being allowed to make my choice for breakfast. Honestly, one of the main highlights of my admission has been the food. There’s always plenty of choice on offer and lots of healthy options to pick from. After all, “a healthy body makes a healthy mind” — at least, that’s what Dr Voss says.
After finally making my choice — buttered toast with boiled eggs, a juicebox and a sliced apple on the side with dipping marmalade — I approach my assigned table, bearing a mix of faces from the two wards. I silently slip into the remaining unoccupied seat.
“Hey,” I greet quietly.
“Yo.”
Elle — aka: Blue Hair — is the only one with a semi-enthusiastic greeting. The others exchange mumbled ‘morning’s in between large bites of toast. They’re all around my age — fourteen — maybe a couple years older. Sadly, our conversations rarely stray outside of small talk. Social interaction with other patients is apparently encouraged, but it usually doesn’t go deeper than that. It could be worse though. Some patients are just too zoned out from the side effects of their meds to string more than a few sentences together — aka: the zombies. Still, I’m hardly one to talk. I’m not fully with it myself either on my bad days, but I do at least try to form some conversation with my fellow ward-mates.
“So…how’s it going?” I ask awkwardly, dipping one of my apple slices into the marmalade.
“Could be better,” my grey-eyed neighbour — Thalia— mumbles, “You?”
“Same old really.”
“Join the club.”
The shaggy haired boy opposite me — Bryce — stabs at his eggs with his plastic fork, scowling.
“Well, I hope things get better for you soon?” I say quietly.
“...thanks.”
Thalia turns her attention to her food. Bryce just grunts in acknowledgement, as ‘cheerful’ as always.
…and that’s pretty much the extent of our group conversation. It’s the same every mealtime. There’s no real depth, let alone any sense of camaraderie. Yeah, we hang out in the same spaces during free-time or pre-arranged activities, but really…that’s it. A few weeks later and I still don’t feel as if I’ve made any real friends here.
Not like…back there.
“Hey, guys!”
“Ash-Tree! There you are!”
Joe beams up at me from our usual table, quickly shifting his chair along to give me space. “Bit late to lunch, huh? Normally Lex is always the late one~”
“Yeesh, way to rub it in, Joey,” Alex pouts, shaking his dark curls in protest as I slide in between him and Joe.
“Don’t take it personally, Lex,” Levi responded, running a hand through his fuzzy ‘fro, “Anyway, did your session go okay, Ash?”
“It was good, thanks. Leon and I worked really hard today.”
I eagerly bite into my sandwich, savouring the succulent chicken inside. “Let me guess – you got the taco special again, Joe?”
“But of course! Taco Tuesday only comes around once a week!”
He flicks his dyed purple locks back, flashing me his signature white-toothed grin. “You’re seriously missing out. Why’d you have to be such a spice light-weight?”
“I prefer not to set my taste buds on fire, thanks.”
“Boooring,” Joe groans dramatically, “Well, just you wait, bro. I’ll get you trying one sooner or later~”
I just stick out my tongue in response. Cody giggles across from me, playing with his fuzzy stress ball.
“So, um, what are you guys doing during free-time? I thought maybe we could play a game in the Rec Room together if um…you wanted to?”
“Heh, I’m game for that, Dee,” Joe laughs,“anyone else wanna come~?”
“I’m down for it,” I respond brightly, “Lex?”
“Counht me ihn, Ahsh!” Alex speaks up through a large mouthful of taco.
“We don’t speak taco-talk, bro,” Levi winces.
“Aheh, sorry, Lev. I meant to say count me in — right after I figure out where I left my stupid fidget spinner. I could have sworn I had it on me when we left Group Therapy…”
“Um…isn’t this the third time this week you’ve lost it, Lex?” Cody pipes up, his lucky cap sliding down his face slightly.
“I knooow.”
Alex sighs loudly, clearly ashamed. “God I hate mind-smoosh.”
“Hey, you know we love you anyway,” Joe replies, reaching over to playfully ruffle his hair at his protesting yelp, “mind-smoosh and all~”
He suddenly throws his other arm around my shoulders, giving my own hair the same treatment. “Just like I love all of you — my awesome cyan bros — just the way you are~”
“Aw, Joe—”
“But that still doesn’t change the fact I’m gonna crush you all with my high score in Tales of Delza later~”
“Is that a challenge?” I respond, elbowing him with a confident grin, “Then challenge accepted~”
“Yeah! We’ll kick your butt like White Rabbit versus Mad Hatter!” Cody adds gleefully, his voice rising a little in excitement.
“Ooh I’m sooo scared~”
Joe’s eyes glimmer even brighter as he takes a final smug bite out of his taco. “Better hit me with your best shot, guys.”
To the chorus of the others’ laughter, I put on my ultimate game-face. A playful smirk crosses my lips.
“Oh you’re on, Joe~”
My eyes start to sting a little. I shove another apple slice into my mouth as a distraction, my chest twinging uncomfortably.
Why can’t I remember? What happened to them after…that night?
The fruit has no taste. I swallow it down forcefully, a hard lump settling in my throat.
I just…really hope they’re all okay.
I finish the rest of my food in silence. Occasional small talk is uttered amongst our table, but no real meaningful conversation that I care enough to follow along with. I opt to fully focus on my own chewing, keeping me occupied for the remainder of meal time.
“—doctors going around, Ash?”
I lift up my head at Elle’s seemingly random question.
“S-sorry, what?” I ask, playing with my juicebox.
“The new doctors,” she repeats, “At least, I think they were doctors. There was a whole group looking around the hospital yesterday with Dr Allen.”
“Oh yeah,” Avery — a fellow white shirt — speaks up, “He did say something about a new medical apprenticeship programme the other day, so I guess they must be part of that.”
“Cool,” I mumble, not really knowing what else to say, “More hands is always helpful.”
Time moves slowly. Conversation soon dries up as the others begin to gradually filter out of the canteen, accompanied by their respective nurses. It isn’t long before Elle joins them, leaving me alone with Thalia.
“Do you have much on today?” she asks, glancing up from her tray.
“Mhmm. It’s a treatment day,” I answer quietly, “You?”
“Same.”
She hesitates for a moment. “Uh…good luck.”
“Thanks,” I murmur gratefully, “You too.”
I watch her walk off with her own nurse before draining the last dregs of my juicebox. After disposing of the trash and tidying my tray away, I head back over to Pierce and Tats.
“All done?”
“Yep. Ready to start the day.”
“Atta boy — oh yeah. I grabbed this from the cart before they closed.”
Tats holds up a simple strawberry yoghurt pot, “I know it’s your favourite. Thought you might want it for snack time later.”
I blink back at him, both surprised and touched. It’s the little acts of kindness like this that remind me these people actually do care about me. It feels…nice.
“I…y-yeah, thanks, Tats.”
“No problem, kiddo.”
We follow the familiar corridors back to Poplar Ward. Another few turns after that and we’re already back at my room.”
“The doc will come and get you in about half an hour,” Pierce informs me, scanning his ID card to let me in, “Until then, feel free to chill out in your room for a bit. Any problems, just press the buzzer.”
“Got it.”
I give them both a grateful nod. The door shuts behind me, locking me inside once again.
And now I wait.
Since I actually have the energy for it today, I decide to fix up my room a bit. Strangely, I’ve found that even the most mundane of tasks can form a pleasant distraction from the growing churning in my stomach. I do my best to ignore it, focusing instead on the soft sensation of the cream bedsheets as I carefully smooth them out. The pillow is next on my list. I fluff it up carefully before setting it neatly back in place.
Okay — bed done. Next, the draws.
My bedside draw doesn’t take long to sort out. As I move onto my closet, I notice one of my pictures has fallen off the wall. Bending down to pick it up, I secure it back to its original spot with even more glittery washi-tape from the desk. Once in place, I step back to admire my personal collage. My eyes track over every individual piece, from torn-out colouring pages of fantastical creatures lovingly filled in during calmer moments of my admission, to more personalised photos. A lot of them are ones I’ve taken myself — like the various plants, up-close wildlife photos and the precious snapshots of my family. I pause over the nearest one — one of the few I haven’t taken — blinking back at my aunt and uncle’s carefree expressions. My older cousin and I stand right beside them. Rufe wears his usual goofy grin, sticking a finger up behind my head as I smile directly at the camera.
Except the smile doesn’t meet my eyes.
That one had been taken about a year ago, on our last holiday to Fundy National Park, right before everything…spiralled.
“I heard he’s the one that caused it.”
My body immediately tenses.
“Really? He actually did that?”
Even now I can still hear them. The whispers, the rumours—
“Tccht. What a freak.”
The labels, the judgement—
“Always knew there was something up with him.”
The betrayal, the desperation—
“What happened to you, Ash?”
Hot tears prick my eyes. My hands begin to shake. She’s gripping my shoulders. She’s pleading me—
“Why won’t you talk to us? Please just talk to us!”
Aunt June—
“Honey, we’re worried about you — really worried. This isn’t you!”
Uncle James—
“I’m sorry, champ…but you can’t go on like this.”
All of them—
“Just stop it, Ash!”
All of them—
“Stop it!”
“Stop it!”
“STOP IT!”
I don’t even realise that the final scream belongs to me. The voices immediately fade, as fast as they came. It’s…all quiet again. Only the sound of my pounding heart fills my ears.
“Gnngh…!”
I almost miss the edge of the bed. My fingers start repetitively running over the smooth sheets to ground myself. I plant both of my feet firmly into the floor, trying to regain control.
No—not real, not real.
…but they are real. Those exact words were spoken aloud — spoken to me.
Pull yourself together — nngh — come on, you’ve got this.
The bedsheets aren’t enough. My hands desperately snatch up the nearest thing to calm me down, which happens to be my stuffed squirrel. I run my fingers through its downy fur, playing a little with the fraying edges of the orange ribbon tied around its neck.
You’re okay. It’s all in your head. Not real.
I take in every sensation I can. I absorb it all. I process it. I allow it to bring me back to reality.
Breathe. Just like Mom said. Mind. Over. Matter.
Gradually, everything settles. I slowly return, free from the taunting reminders. The stuffed squirrel buries deeper into my chest, nuzzling close to my heart.
“We’ll be okay, Nezzy,” I murmur, seeking solace in my plush companion like a…totally normal teenager, “You’ll see.”
A brief blissful silence descends on the room. I close my eyes, continuing to calm down, refusing to let go of my furry friend — until I hear the familiar clacking down the hallway.
Clack. Clack. Clack.
My stomach begins to whir again. I have no idea why there’s a sudden spike of nausea in my throat. I brush my lips against the squirrel’s head, whispering once more into her fur.
“Y-you’ll see.”
A soft beep sounds out as my door opens. He slowly advances into the room.
“Good morning, Ashley,” he greets, as warmly as ever.
Blinking my eyes open, I shuffle around to face him.
“...morning, Dr Voss.”
His rimmed glasses slip slightly down his nose as he studies me, frowning in concern.
“Is something the matter, my boy? You look rather pale.”
“I-I’m fine. Just…had a moment.”
I draw in another deep breath before loudly exhaling. The tension leaves my body alongside it. “I’m okay now, really, just...a little anxious, I guess.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Are you sure you feel well enough for treatment today?” he asks, folding his arms over his chest, “We can always reschedule if—”
“No, it’s fine,” I interrupt, swallowing, “Let’s just get it over with.”
“Of course. We’ll make it as quick as we can, alright?”
Ignoring the nerves inexplicably running rampant within me, I shakily get to my feet, lay down my plushie and step over to join him.
“...okay.”
“Ready? Sharp scratch.”
“Gnnk!”
The needle painfully pricks my arm. Like always, I divert my attention to the pastel coloured murals decorating the walls of the treatment room. Gritting my teeth, I force myself to hold still as he carefully inserts the cannula into my vein.
I hate needles.
“There, all done.”
He takes extra care to be gentle as he tapes it in place, speaking to one of the nurses over his shoulder. “Send the bloodwork off to the labs for analysis. Hopefully the ongoing trend is still reassuring — Ashley, are you alright?”
“Y-yeah, it’s just…needles.”
“I know, but you did very well.”
He gives me a reassuring smile as he begins gathering the usual kit. With a grunt I shuffle up into a sitting position on the leather treatment couch, resting my head back against the pillow. Multiple cabinets line the walls around us — all of them locked tight — no doubt containing meds and kits for other procedures. Even though I know the process very well by now — given that I have this exact same infusion three times a week — it’s hardly what I’d consider ‘fun’.
“Alright, can I please confirm your name and date of birth before we begin?” he asks, checking the ID inked into my wrist.
“Ashley Reed. September twenty-eighth, 2023.”
“Excellent — and since the last infusion, you haven’t experienced any distressing side effects? No headaches, chest pain, nausea — nothing like that?”
“Nope. I’ve actually been tolerating it pretty well so far.”
“Well, I’m very glad to hear that,” he replies, sounding genuinely relieved, “but of course if anything changes, then let us know as soon as possible. Your safety is paramount here.”
“Mhmm.”
With all of the checks complete, I allow the nurse to flush and prime the line, before connecting the infusion to my cannula. Drip by drip, I watch as it slowly enters my bloodstream. “So…will it be the usual?”
“Yes, we’ll let that run through and then that will be all for today until your next dose on Friday.”
“...how many more doses do I need?”
He hesitates for a moment.
“It’s hard to say exactly. Some people require a longer course of treatment to feel the full benefits of the medication, but essentially it is different for every individual.”
“And do you really think it’s working?” I dare to ask.
“From what I’ve seen from you so far, I’m very hopeful for a positive outcome,” he answers, taking a seat next to me as the nurse checks my choker, “you have certainly made some significant improvements over the past month in particular, but with regards to an estimated end date for your treatment, well….it’s still hard to say.”
He doesn’t need to elaborate further.
“I’m still not there yet, right?” I summarise quietly.
“...I’m afraid you’ll need at least a few more weeks still, perhaps longer, depending how you respond to the medication.”
“...I knew it.”
I obviously expected it, but hearing him confirm it out loud only increases those inner fears. Even now I can hear them, hissing venomously through my mind.
You’ll never get better. You’re totally unfixable.
“So what if it doesn’t work? I’m just gonna be stuck here forever?”
Freak.
“Of course not.”
Shame ripples through me as he speaks. “Do you remember what I said during our very first session together, that the path to recovery is a unique one?”
I pause, recalling his words.
“...we all have different destinations and end-goals,” I answer softly, “‘The path can be unpredictable and it’s normal to...lose our way sometimes.”
“And?” he gently prompts.
“...and it’s okay if it takes longer than you planned to get to where you want. Just as long as you eventually get there.”
“Exactly — and it will take time to build the necessary resilience to overcome the obstacles in your way, whatever form they may take. Some people need longer than others — and there is nothing wrong with that.”
The sincerity of his words rings clearly through my head. “Of course, I will continue to support you in whatever way I can, but only you can get to your desired destination, Ashley.”
“...really?”
“Yes — you are in charge.”
...I’ve never felt in charge of anything in my life, especially not this.
“I just thought maybe...maybe I might have made more progress by now—”
“And you have.”
I blink back the tears from my eyes as he moves to reassure me. “Take your diary entries for example — I can see that you’ve been recording far fewer distressing thoughts and beliefs in them than at the start of your stay with us.”
I still remain unconvinced. He takes my silence as his cue to continue. “And look at us right now — you would definitely not have been this trusting at the start of your admission. Granted, it has taken time for us to reach this point, but it has certainly been worth it.”
“Y-yeah, it has,” I agree, internally wincing at the memory of me screaming in his face, “and it’s been hard to accept it, but…”
“But you know we’re all just doing our best to help you, don’t you?”
“I know,” I murmur, “and you have been all along — and I see that now, but back at the start I was just so scared and I kept thinking I was in danger and—and I know that’s stupid because it wasn’t real but—”
“But your fear was real,” he emphasises, interrupting my rambling, “and that fear is what drives the primitive physiological responses that allow us to survive. You may have heard it referred to in your biology classes as the ‘Fight-or-flight response’? Well, in your case, you chose flight.”
“...I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, my boy. That’s in the past now.”
He clasps his hands together in his lap. “And really, we’ve had no major issues since then, which is certainly an improvement compared to your previous behaviour.”
“...true.”
No more stupid impromptu escape attempts at least—
“And you said so yourself that you felt the treatment was working. Surely that is evidence enough that you are making progress. Wouldn’t you say so, Ashley?”
“Well, I am, just…not as fast as I’d hoped,” I admit, chewing on my lip, “Sure, the thoughts aren’t as scary or noisy — and the other stuff has gotten a lot better.”
I hesitate for a moment, swallowing my shame. “...you know, the green light and the prickling. It’s all calmed right down — but there are still some days where I just—I just don’t know what things to believe. Then on top of that there’s still the nightmares.”
“You’re still having them?” he asks, concerned, “The same ones?”
“Mhmm.”
I draw in a deep breath. “They just won’t go away — and I know they’re not real, but it still feels real and it just scares me, because...I’m not in control of it, I guess.”
Dr Voss falls quiet for a moment, taking note of my words.
“I can see that this is quite distressing for you, my boy” he summarises perfectly, “Are you using any of our strategies to help deal with these uncertainties, or to help regain a sense of control?”
“Well...I try to practice our grounding exercises — mostly box-breathing and counting — but I’m not sure what else I can try.”
He sends me a thoughtful smile.
“I might have another exercise we can add to your toolkit,” he replies, “Our last session got me thinking about it. It’s a little grounding game that I call ‘Fact-or-fiction’.”
“Oh-kay…and how does that work?”
“Basically, it allows you to work through your own thoughts and beliefs and to categorise them into what is real — fact — and what is not — fiction.”
He sits back in his chair thoughtfully. “Let me give you an example. ‘Superpowers do not exist’ would be fact. The troubling belief that ‘you will never get better’ would be fiction.”
“Oh, I think I get it,” I reply, “so it’s just sorting out fact from fiction?”
“Exactly, my boy. It is especially useful when you struggle to identify what is actually real, for example, when dealing with hallucinations. All it takes is a logical reminder and repetition of the facts.”
“O-okay,” I repeat, taking a deep breath as he flicks through his papers, “Superpowers don’t exist — fact.”
“Alright. Now, let me try giving you some statements. All I want is for you to tell me what category you think they fall into, alright? Here is your first statement — ‘I am your doctor and I am trying to make you better’. Is that one fact, or fiction?”
“...fact,” I answer.
“Next statement — ‘You receive your treatment once a week’.”
“Fiction — I have it three times a week.”
“Correct. Next statement — ‘You are safe here. No one has any desire to hurt you’.”
“Fact,” I reply, gradually getting more confident.
“Precisely — ‘You were previously admitted at Lormill Teen Residential Hospital before coming here’.”
“Fact.”
I hesitate for a moment, probing deeper into my mind. “There was a really bad fire. It burned the whole place down — fact.”
I close my eyes tightly, my head starting to ache. “It was haunted by a ghost. I’d hear it wailing in the night, while they were experimenting on us and—a-and…”
My head begins to pound. Dr Voss sends me a gentle look.
“It’s alright, Ashley. Just take your time.”
“If…i-if we didn’t get better fast enough, then they’d send us away…a-and then they’d kill us.”
I shudder, realising how absolutely ridiculous it sounds out loud. “I-I want to say that’s all fact, but…”
Dr Voss blinks at me, clearly a little taken aback at my conclusion. Rather than immediately start shooting down my words, he just peers at me compassionately without a single flicker of judgement.
“What makes you think that?”
I open my mouth to answer him — but nothing comes out. Not a single convincing argument or explanation. Eventually, I reply with a single shameful whisper.
“I…I-I don’t know.”
I swallow hard. “...I’m crazy, aren’t I?”
“No. Your brain simply perceives the world in a different way to others. It is not the same thing, Ashley.”
I start chewing on my lip yet again, averting my gaze from the still running infusion.
“And I…I keep seeing you there,” I murmur, “At Lormill. You and the other psychiatrist — Leon — Dr Adler — I keep mixing you up…I-I’m sorry.”
“Please don’t apologise. It’s very common for memories to become disjointed after a traumatic event — in this case the fire as you rightly said,” he answers quietly, “The two admissions were also very close together, I believe?”
“Y-yeah, I think so. I guess that explains the confusion — but I know the fire definitely happened. I remember the alarms, the flames…s-screaming…”
“It’s alright, Ashley,” he reassures me as I stifle a sob, “You’re safe now.”
He passes me a box of tissues. I hesitate for a moment before grabbing a large handful, just in case. “As for the other parts, why don’t you try to piece them together, starting with your wardmates that were sent away. Why do you think they were killed?”
“Because they never came back,” I reply, “A-after being transferred, they were used as organ donors and test subjects and—a-and—!”
I forcibly suck in another breath, grabbing onto the patient couch for grounding.
“Take your time, my boy,” he reminds me gently, “You mentioned being ‘transferred’. What was that about?”
“They had this um…protocol. If your mental health deteriorated, then they’d send you somewhere else. They said it was to a better hospital or something…s-somewhere that could help you acutely.”
“So when that happened, the patients would be too unwell to stay there?”
“I…I guess so?” I murmur, “so then…they just didn’t come back because they were being treated somewhere else?”
Dr Voss remains silent, allowing me to navigate the pieces by myself.
…I guess that explanation makes way more sense?
“And the ‘experiments’?” he asks, “What did they involve?”
“Um…different medications, painful procedures, weird machines…things like that.”
“I see — and then near the start of your admission here, you were also terrified that we were experimenting on you as well, weren’t you?”
“I-I know, I’m sorry, I just...I-I’ve never really been in hospital before, until all of this," I admit, slowly realising that fact myself, "Being away from my home and my family, surrounded by strangers giving me weird medicines and all these complex machines…I-I think I just got overwhelmed from everything.”
“And rightfully so. Hospitals are frightening places for anyone, but for a child, it’s even worse. As healthcare professionals — as well intended as our actions are — it is still usually far too much for a child’s young mind to process. The brain then warps the situation out of proportion even further so that you actually do feel in danger — and when we sense that danger, we see it as a threat, enabling our survival instincts to kick in to protect us. This includes the release of adrenaline — the fear-hormone — and making us much more sensitive to pain.”
“Fight-or-flight,” I mumble, “Right, um…so there were really no experiments at all. I was just…completely freaking out over nothing.”
“It was hardly ‘nothing’, Ashley. Being hospitalised can be very traumatic.”
“Mmm,” I mutter, “As for the ghost wailing…well, ghosts don’t exist so…I had to have been hearing things again. Hallucinations, like the prickles and the green lights. Is…is that common, Dr Voss?”
“Relatively common — and certainly the most common form of hallucination. People have reported hearing all manner of things: external voices, screaming, laughter and even animal sounds. I know that they can seem real at the time, but…”
“But it’s just in my head,” I finish quietly, “and even though it’s scary, it can’t actually hurt me.”
Closing my eyes, I mentally slot the pieces together into their now blatantly obvious conclusion. “Then…all of that’s fiction.”
“Yes, my boy,” my doctor answers quietly, “and I know it must still be hard to process, but you’re on the right track. It may not feel like it right now, but we will continue to work through this together. No matter how long it takes, I am with you the whole way.”
“...thanks, Dr Voss.”
He inclines his head in response, turning his attention back to the infusion. I watch it continue to flow through the IV. A wave of exhaustion gradually washes over me as I replay that welcoming reassurance in my head, until the nurse finally disconnects the line from my arm.
Finally, I can actually feel my arm again.
“Alright, that’s all done for today. How are you feeling, Ashley?”
“Honestly? Pretty drained,” I mumble, “I think I might have a nap when I get back to my room.”
“Yes, do go and get some rest,” he advises kindly, “As usual, make sure to stay hydrated and let the nurses know if you feel off in any way, alright?”
“Mhmm.”
With a groan, I wriggle off the edge of the treatment couch. “And thanks for our talk. I do feel a bit better for it.”
“You’re more than welcome.”
Right on cue, Pierce and Tats are waiting for me outside. I stumble over to them gratefully, eager to get back to my room. “And Ashley?”
“Yeah?”
“You really have come a long way already,” he says quietly, “I’m proud of you, my boy.”
I stare back at him, gaping a bit in shock.
Proud? For…for real?
He just peers back at me with a gentle smile. It’s like for the first time in weeks, I’m finally starting to feel something. Something different. Some actual...hope.
“So your final statement for today — ‘Everything will be fine’. Fact, or fiction?”
Glancing back at him, I allow myself a tiny hopeful smile.
“...fact.”
Hi lovelies! It's been a little while coming, but hopefully you enjoyed this latest chapter ^^ I had a lot of fun writing it, I hope it wasn't too long, but given that it's still setting the scene it felt necessary to include the full chapter to get a feel ^^ As usual I'd be so appreciative of any feedback to help me improve further. Thanks so much for taking the time to read and have a lovely day! :D x
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