TW: Graphic sexual violence, assault.
We trekked down the dark halls with only the security lights to guide our way. I clutched onto the flashlight but I didn’t turn it on. Not unless I had to. If someone saw that we’d be fucked.
Hugo led the way, whispering prayers under his breath. I used this time to talk to Ernie.
“Ernie, I’ve seen your record, you don’t have a pilot’s license. How do you know how to fly a plane?” I asked.
Ernie chuckled. “Long story. Friend owned a plane, one of those tiny ones. He taught me when he got bored one day. It was fun, I loved it. Flew it all the time before I moved to Illinois. If reincarnation is a thing maybe I’ll be a pilot.”
I hid my smile. “Well, for whatever it’s worth, if we don’t find Brandon, you’ll be the reason we make it out of here, so we’ll owe you. Maybe we can talk at your next parole hearing?”
“Oh, I’d love that, thank you so much,” Ernie said, his smile almost reaching his ears.
Hugo came to a stop. In the silence, I could hear chaos coming from two different directions, where Ernie likely came from and the B-3 ward.
My heart dropped like a stone. I remembered a conversation I had with Dr. Leon, before the interview with Chloe.
“I’m going to spend the day with Kaitlyn I think.”
“I thought you said none of the patients would talk to you.”
“Managed to get through to her. After this damn storm lets up I’m sending them all home to real treatment.”
“All right. Don’t get too attached to her.”
“Dr. Leon’s with the B-3 group today.”
I gripped my flashlight tighter. “You two try to find Brandon. I’m going after Dr. Leon.”
Hugo held my arm. “No, I’m going with you. Ernie, go wait on the plane, and pray that Brandon left the damn keys in there.”
“Hugo, I’ve been praying ever since I got here. I won’t be stopping any time soon.”
I should’ve just headed up to the plane.
The noise grew louder, moans and screams and cackles. Hugo groaned as he gripped his heart, and I understood why- the sound just dragged your innards down to your ankles. Every step felt like it was more effort.
“It’s not exactly possession, but… close enough. It’s like some demons give off this power that just makes everyone go crazy.” Hugo gripped his chest tighter and I slipped an arm around him to keep him balanced.
“We have to keep moving.”
We turned the hall to the main meeting room to come across the bloodiest orgy I could ever imagine.
The patients had stripped down to nothing, along with a few of the security guards. Butter knives and other implements had been sharpened, allowing them to cut and stab each other as they fucked. I gasped as I recognized Kaitlyn in the center of the room, dancing slowly and rolling her hips before she straddled a man with a pentagram cut into his chest tied to a table.
It took me a second to recognize Dr. Leon without his glasses. Kaitlyn hopped across his lap and gasped as she sunk down on him, her head tossed back in pure pleasure.
“Late to the party? You can’t just look, you know. You must participate.”
Up until this moment I had never met Anastasia. I cannot tell you what she looked like, not really, the room was too dark. All I could make out was her dark brown eyes before the demonic aura in the room overwhelmed us.
I don’t remember much after that. I remember hearing Dr. Leon scream, and next time I saw him there was a jagged symbol dripping blood down his arm. I remember hearing Kaitlyn’s cry when she orgasmed, right before she plunged a shiv into her own neck.
I do remember Dr. Leon crawling up to me during a brief reprieve and telling me Anastasia was never a mental patient.
That she was entirely sane. A student of psychiatry herself. That she was the group’s control subject, told by Dr. Lewis to observe from inside.
And I do remember Hugo crawling on top of me and kissing me. I remember him praying as he went down between my thighs. And I remember us fucking along with the rest of this mad orgy.
When the aura died down, when people finally began to pass out from sheer exhaustion and blood loss, I managed to get up. Anastasia was humming to herself, hidden in the shadows of the room. I pulled my shirt back on and turned to her.
“… Are you Emmet?” I asked.
Anastasia tutted her tongue. “I’m his prophet, you fool. You know who he is,” she scolded.
I grimaced as I buttoned my shirt up. “No, I don’t,” I said as Hugo slowly came to, getting to his feet as he pulled his pants back up.
Anastasia laughed before picking up one of the several shivs lying next to her. “Then you are as blind as you are dumb,” She said as she twirled it between her fingers. “Demons are so powerful, so above our understanding. I didn’t know this until I communed with Emmet. Demons don’t have gender, not until human understanding imprints these concepts upon them. And now that I have successfully served him, I will pass onto hell, to be his. For eternity.” Before I could comprehend what she said, Anastasia stabbed herself in the throat.
I turned away but it didn’t hide the sound of Anastasia gagging on her own blood.
Dr. Leon was dead. His body was tied back up on the table, bleeding from multiple wounds, his eyes rolled into the back of his head. The rats were curled up around his feet, their breath slow. God knew how many of the patients were still alive.
“Barbara? We… we gotta go. Ernie’s waiting for us on that plane… and I think the head over there is Brandon’s.”
I didn’t turn to look. I remembered distantly that someone had been decapitated during the night but it was unclear, like looking through fogged glass.
“… Check Brandon’s body for the keys.”
We walked down the hall in silence. I reached for Hugo’s hand. He initially jerked away before he wrapped his hand around mine.
“I… I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He asked, his voice cracking a little.
I looked over at him. His eyes were downcast. He was ashamed. So I lied.
“No Hugo. You didn’t hurt me. Did I hurt you?”
He knew I was lying. I knew he was too.
But the madness hadn’t come to an end yet.
The security lights went as bright as possible before exploding, their plastic coverings raining down on us. I screamed as I shielded Hugo with my body, the shards nicking my back and neck.
I saw a small silhouette at the end of the hall. I clicked on the flashlight.
It was Chloe. Her face was white as paper, purple veins popping out next to her bloodshot eyes. Her head cocked to the side before her lips spread in a grin.
Her brothers stepped out from behind her, in similar conditions. Scotty’s shirt was soaked in blood. When they spoke, it was in sync. Their voices sounded like static.
“Emmet would like to speak to you.”