Butterflies

Chapter 33

Can you slip through white walls that last were covered in dripping violet, and remember those same flecks of dust? Can you even step back into a place that once caused you so much pain? It was too easy for Violet to find her way back to her wing, standing face to face with the corridor that lead to her room and the recreation center. Was it too much just to look back at those walls she left covered in bullets like a body she used as a shield, the slices taken from the wall lying on the floor like limbs. Was she cowardice for not venturing back there?

It was deserted, as if she had existed long ago. It only been weeks since she escaped, and still all that was left was the ghost of herself. Vought had given up on her, so why keep a home for her. So close and so far, so recent Violet almost could still smell the gush of smoke from the guns they shot at her, the trail of blood she left like a slug. Taking one step closer to the door that opened to her torture, she let it creak as she tugged on it. And they hadn't even cleaned it, not even dragged away the bodies she left behind. Or was it a vision? Was her mind showing her what it only knew, as when have we ever been able to see what we don't know?

She couldn't move. She couldn't take one step into the corridor. It was too blinding, the memories of all that had happened. Violet had ventured down there in memories, and she didn't like what she saw then, what would change? Closing the door, she pressed her forehead to it and begged for it all to disappear, that if she opened her eyes again it would be just another hospital wing. Though she knew that not to be true. But for another second she wished it would, that for once her life would be normal and not convoluted turmoil. Perhaps it could be simple, like those families in the suburbs whose biggest problem was getting their kids to school on time.

Stalking away from that corridor, Violet made her way through the rest of the building until she found a particular control room. Why had they not stopped her? Where was Doctor White? In all her searching for herself she had not thought of him, the person who caused it. The liar, the manipulator, even if a failed one. Just by not covering her face she was in danger, they could send the same security that almost tore her to pieces. But maybe this time she would be able to stop them. Reaching the door, it had been occupied, it was obvious as it was kept clean and neat like it had been when she escaped. Pulling a gun into her hand from the air, she prepared to face him, prepared to set her eyes on him again.

However as she threw the door open he wasn't there. There was no one. Doctor White had stayed locked away in that room but in that moment he was not there to be found. Violet cursed. She did want to rid him. And it was a thought she wasn't proud of, but couldn't disguise in being a bigger person. For once she wanted to be a killer, but the target she couldn't find. So she did was she sent herself to do, pulling open draws in search for any and all files she could find on herself. That could then explain what they did to her exactly, and what they planned for her. It could even explain the other patients she passed, the reason for them.

"I knew it was too easy," she mumbled as she looked at the control board. They were never set free, Violet failed them. But that would change, she would not let them be held there any longer. If the same doctors were hurting them like they were to her, it was not worth being safe and keeping them at bay. Instead of finding a better combination or the right button, Violet pressed every single one, buzzers and lights flashing as she did so. And then the room was consumed in red. Though it was not her rapid button pressing that disturbed it, as when she looked into one of the monitors she saw it. A steaming of flames bursting a door open and a patient stepping out of their room.

"Shit," she realised when Frenchie and the others could be seen in the scene, along with a doctor holding a... Lighter. Widening her eyes she whispered, "Lamplighter," and began yanking draws out faster, files flying around the room like birds being let out a cage. A thud hit the ground as she shoved open another draw, a thick grey book hitting the ground. Spying it, she let go of the draw she was swiping through and crouched down to it.