Mad Hospitality

Reads: 1460  | Likes: 2  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 2

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: House of Ghosts

Chapter 2 (v.2) - Twisted

Submitted: September 22, 2017

Reads: 183

Comments: 1

A A A | A A A

Submitted: September 22, 2017

A A A

A A A

Chapter 2

 

 

 

Staring at absolutely nothing. That’s what I spent the next hour doing. I couldn’t pace, or scribble down notes or anything that I could normally do when I needed to think. Not that I wanted to think, but to understand the situation I needed to at least wrap my head around what was going on. Why can’t I understand? Well, everything is fucked up. I don’t even know what’s real or not. He couldn’t have possibly killed everyone on this floor. That’s impossible for one man. Surely he is imagining all this and simply tricking me. Yes! Help should be coming to get me!

Wait… they should have come before. Like I said, it has gone an hour, according to the clock ticking on the far wall from where I sat, bound in the cloth soaked with my sweat.

This isn’t right. What’s going on?

“Dr?” I turned my head to Clyde. He was laying across the medical bed on his stomach, his head laying sideways facing me.

“You look scared.” I was. Nothing was making sense, and Clyde was making claims of things that only the abnormal can do.

Oh. I see now.

“Yes, I’m scared. You are scaring me, Clyde.” My gaze finally set itself to his eyes. Deep and empty, eyes. I wanted to look away, but I felt more determined to show him what I had to say. But he merely looked even more confused than before. His dangling arm from the bed swinging.

“Why are you afraid of me?” He looked almost sad at the thought.

He isn’t normal. I mean, that’s disrespectful to say to a mentally ill person, but even for someone like him, this isn’t even close.

“Because you killed people!” I shouted in frustration. My heart racing so fast the words started to spew like wild fire.

“You claim to kill more people than any serial killer in the state has ever done! And all by yourself!? Do you realize how crazy you sound? And then you say that it’s my fault that Lucy is dead, does that help you understand why I’m scarred of you Clyde? I’m being kidnapped by a crazy man!” The moment I said those words I immediately wanted to grab the rifle laying five meters in front of me and shoot myself in the head. I called him crazy, twice, which by the way isn’t a great thing to call someone struggling with insanity. But I couldn’t help but say what I felt in that moment. I lost my self control and now I made myself fear him even more.

I sat there, waiting for his blank eyes to surface from the empty ones and let my arms open for a slow painful death brought by vengeance. But he didn’t. Instead he got up from the bed, slowly walked over to me, crouched down, and started undoing the cloth. I watched him. I had no words, no thought, but simply confusion. His cold skin brushing my hands as he worked his fingers with the cloth to free my wrists. Once I was free, he grab hold of my left wrist and pulled me up onto my feet. My balance was shaky but I managed to stand. He didn’t let go of me. He held on tightly.

“Don’t run away.” He whispered. He shied his eyes away, and I noticed his cheeks were turning pink. Maybe he felt uncomfortable holding my wrist this way.

“No, I won’t.” I Faced my body towards him, to show him I cared. He peered back at me, still blushing.

“I’m here to help you, Clyde.” His face brightened, and tears started to fall. I watched in disbelief, yet I was happy to see what he was feeling.

“I’m a monster.” he answered. He tightened his grip, which made my wrist sore, but I could only imagine his pain.

“Something inside me is angry at you for not saving her, and yet, your still alive because...” He paused, quickly looking away from me entirely. Guilt started to form in me. I could have saved her, had I been quick enough. Had I not let her reach for that scalpel. Damn it! Why did things have to be this way?

“I’m sorry.” I used my wrist to pull him to me, and gave him a hug. He was cold on every inch of his skin, and he smelled of blood, but it felt nice. This embrace made him calm down a bit. And soon, he let go of my wrist and return the hug. He nuzzled his nose into my shoulder. I could feel the tip of his ear grazing my jaw, it tickled a little. His breathing was deep, and soothing. Every bad thing that had just happened seemed to disappear. But that lasted all to short.

His breath became shorter and quicker. He pushed me away and gave me a gaze of rage.

“Sorry? Haha! Damn right your sorry. You have been treating me for three years! And I haven’t gotten better! And as for Lucy, she has been under your care for longer, and you couldn’t save her.” He clenched his fists, and gritted his teeth. He looked like he was ready to pounce, so I readied my stance.

“Don’t tell me your sorry! If you truly care for me you would fix me!” And with those words, he lunged. I dodged his punch, witch instead hit the wall behind me. He groaned in pain, but it didn’t deter him. He turned and went for a kick. I raised my arm and block his attack, but the impact made me fall flat on my back. I hit my head on the floor, and my vision went blurry. When I could see properly again he was sitting on top of me, fist I the air. I closed my eyes, preparing for the fist to strike me where I lay.

“Fuck you.” his voice trembling with anger. He hit me again and again and again. Each strike becoming more numb. I couldn’t see his expression, but I could imagine his eyes, filled with fire, teeth clenched and tears streaming. His face was probably showing the fury he was feeling. I wanted to open my eyes to see if my imagination was true, but he wouldn’t let up. I felt my face swell, and blood flowing from my nose. Finally he stopped. He was panting, sitting over my waist, crying. I opened my eyes, the best I could, but it hurt. His face wasn’t filled with anger anymore. It was filled will sorrow. He dropped his head to my chest and sobbed. I simply let my head rest on the floor, and I let myself cry. We just laid there for a little while, letting our emotions out through tears. His head always against my chest, and my eyes gazing at the ceiling. Eventually we heard a pounding sound coming from the hall. Clyde lifted his head, eyes red from crying.

“Is that help?” I asked.

“No, I don’t think so.” Clyde kept his gaze at the door as he got up and walk over to investigate. He slowly opened the door, and peered out. I stood up, my body aching, mainly my face.

“No one is trying to get in.” He looked back at me and smiled. Surprisingly I smiled back, naturally. His cheeks turn pink again, but I only saw it for a few seconds before he stuck his head back out the door. I let my thoughts wander in this moment. I thought about Clyde hitting me and him all of a sudden crying on me. Placing my had on my chest where he had his head earlier, it was wet from his tears. I looked down at my shirt. It was covered in blood stains and sweat. Plus the tears from Clyde. On the right side of my chest was my name tag. “Dr. Vince Whitefield of Athens mental health center,” it read. I unhooked it from my shirt and let it drop to the floor. Something about having it didn’t make sense to me anymore.

Remembering my reality again made me notice how empty the room felt. I looked up at the door. Clyde was gone. In a panic I rush to the door.

Entering the halls of the center made me feel the sickest I have ever felt in my life. Everything was scattered, papers, documents, office tools in general, and bodies. Medical personnel, patients, security, everyone that had been here, were all dead.

I vomited. This sight was worse than any nightmare that I ever had before. After emptying my stomach, I turned to the elevator. I need to see if I can leave and get help. I pressed the button facing down, and it glowed an orange color. I looked up at the numbers to watch as the 1 slowly switched to a 2, but as the doors opened I noticed that the elevator only made it an inch over the edge of the floor. I peered up the elevator shaft through the doors, but it was too dark to see what the problem was. I backed up and let the doors close.

A sunken feeling was beginning to stir in my stomach. He had said the truth so far. The elevators don’t work. But what about the stairs?

I spun around to look for the doorway leading to the stairwell. The sick color of the lights making my uneasiness seem worse. It took me a moment before I noticed the sign stating the stairs. With haste I walked over to the door the sign was designating. Gripping the handle, I opened the door. Upon opening the door I saw the load of desk, chairs, papers and other furniture items that filled my exit. Any crack or nook was filled with papers or pots or anything that could fit. This must have taken hours. How? If I can’t escape then ill look for answers. Then I remembered that I haven’t seen Clyde in a while. Where was he?

“Clyde?” I called out. I let myself wander the hall a bit until I heard a scream at the end of the corridor. It took me by surprise. But the scream didn’t belong to him. Someone else is alive? I ran as fast as I could.

“Hello!?” stumbling to a halt, I fling the door at the end of the hall open to see Clyde strangling a man of dark skin in a white scrubs. Clyde turns his head in my direction will blood lusting eyes. Brow furrow and teeth clenched he held tightly around the mans neck. With all the energy the man had he struggled to be free, but Clyde wouldn’t let loose.

“Let him go!” I shouted at him.

“Shut up!” Clyde’s grunts and pants made him seem more like an animal that human.

The light in the mans eyes started to die and his attempts to fight back were getting weaker.

“I said let him go!” I started to approach Clyde slowly, but he spat at me.

“Come any closer and I won’t hesitate!” I froze. My heart was beating at speeds that felt like I could give myself a heart attack. He returned his gaze to the man.

“Die, die, die!” He began to mumble.

I am filled with regret that I didn’t do anything to save him. I just stood there, in fear that I would be next. As he died Clyde gained his cool again. He let go of the body and raised himself from the ground. Turning to me, eyes filled with tears he said something that shook me with a swirl of confusion and emotion.

“I have to keep you safe.”


© Copyright 2020 Swewolf. All rights reserved.

Chapters

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Add Your Comments:

Comments

avatar

Author
Reply