The Torment

Two

In the serene silence of the conservatory, I drew the woman's picture. It wasn't exactly like my dream but it was all I could do under the dim bulb. Night had settled in but there weren't any stars today. Behind me, Clinton sat on a farther bench with his nose buried in a historical fiction book, his brows furrowed with focus.

My brush stroked the woman's eyes, her blue orbs frantic with dread. Her mouth was set wide open as if she could swallow the world whole. Under the amber glow of the bulb, the painting looked traumatizing, which made me feel light-headed and I put the brush down.

Clinton raised his head from the book and then took in the painting.

"It's-" His voice was cut off by a loud bang and heavy footsteps coming down the stairs. The conservatory lay next to the fourth floor staircase and it wasn't everyday that you'd see someone go to the fourth floor.

"What was that?" I whispered. Upon hearing the sounds, Clinton switched off the lights and ducked in his place but I made my way towards the door.

"Muriel, are you-"

"Shhh" I widened my eyes at him and then continued kneeling next to the door. I opened the door slightly to see, and light from the corridor flooded inside. There were three men, all masked and wearing white overalls, two of them carrying a long plastic bag.

I cast Clinton a horrified look upon realizing what possibly the bag held and he stared at the floor, panicking.

"After you bury it, find an animal and bury it on top of the soil, preferably two to three meters above the body" One of the men stood on the staircase while the other two subtly nodded, walking away from the place. The man in the staircase wore gloves with slight cuts and drops of blood.

If it really was a dead body, then why don't they call the ambulance, why are they burying it themself? Why aren't they contacting the respective family?. Unless....

After briefly observing his surroundings, the man retreated back to floor four and I closed the door. Clinton was clinging to the sofa next to him, sweat running down his face as fast breaths left his mouth.

"Are you okay?" I asked worriedly and he nodded.

"I just- I think I need fresh air" He panted, blue eyes wide open in horror as he stumbled towards the door.

"Don't come looking for me" He spoke before walking out of the room and leaving me to wonder what had happened to him. Shortly after, I went back to my room and fell into an uncomfortable slumber. That night I had the dream again, but this time it wasn't the woman, it was Clinton. I woke up with a scream and a nurse rushed in to check in on me.

She injected me with some medicine that put my mind to rest and then left me to be. I kept wondering about that dream for minutes before finally gathering the courage. And here I was, making my way towards floor four, passing the conservatory.

I stood at the base of the staircase and glanced up at the never-ending swirl of wide porcelain stairs. There was a warning on the wall next to me that read in bold letters:

DO NOT ENTER.

I went past the warning and stepped on the first stair, then another and another. As I climbed, a number of rooms came into view, consisting of various corridors. This wasn't a ward, I realized, it was solitary confinement for the insane.

A part of my mind screamed at me to turn back before it was too late but I went on. Another room came up and I glanced through the glass at the corridor. The door was unlocked so I stepped inside, staring right at the double doors at the end of the hallway. Those were the kind of double doors that you'd see at an operation theatre.

And behind those doors, I heard machines run, and a human scream.

Instincts kicked in and I turned around quickly, knocking a table nearby which hit the wall with a loud thud. The machines stopped and silence took over, sending chills down my spine. There was a sound of doors opening, as if there was another set of double doors behind the ones in front of me.

And whoever was behind the doors, was coming straight right at me. A silhouette appeared behind the translucent doors, stopping for a while in such a way that made me wonder if they wanted to give me a spare moment to say my last prayers.

And then the doors burst open.

A hand was slapped over my mouth and another one lifted me up as I was dragged into a room nearby. I wanted to scream but the person had a tight grip on my mouth and pulled me behind a desk. Before I could bite their hand off, a set of blue eyes glowed under the faint light of the hallway and the door was closed slowly.

"We're gonna have a long talk, Arahood" I heard the familiar voice in the dark.

"Why did you follow me, Clinton?"

"What? Did you want to end up butchered by those madmen?" He asked, furiously. Outside, I could hear footsteps and a series of doors banging open.

"You can't hide for long" The man cooed, kicking open the door next to ours. My heart beat sped up and I could feel Clinton's breath fanning on me.

"Come out!" The man shouted, walking towards our door and kicking it open. Light rushed inside and I could see Clinton's horrified face next to mine. I did not want to die like this- scared and vulnerable and certainly not in this hellhole. The footsteps soon retreated back and Clinton crawled out to glimpse at the door.

Upon finding the place isolated, we made our way out of the corridor and down the staircase. On my way back, I glanced at Clinton and saw his features harden, his eyebrows frowning and his neck turning red.

By the time we reached my room, the sky had started to illuminate with the rising sun. With my back turned, I entered the room and heard the door shut. Clinton was standing in front of the door fuming with anger as he unbuttoned his sleeves.

Here we go.

"Do you have a death wish, Arahood?" He questioned.

"No, but I deserve to know what's going on. I don't want to die here, Clinton, this place is hell!" I shouted. His gaze softened and he took a place at the corner of my bed.

"Don't worry about staying here," he spoke.

"Huh?"

"Your time here isn't long"

"What do you mean?" I asked, sitting next to him.

"I overheard the nurses, they say you're holding up really well" His voice rose a little.

"You don't mean to say that-"

"They'll soon discharge you. There, I said it." He avoided meeting my gaze and I felt a spark of hope.

"You never asked why I was brought here in the first place" I informed. Clinton stood up, then wandered towards the window.

"You didn't bring it up either," He stated.

"Well, then it's time you know why"