Fractured Remembrance: "A Tale Of What Came Before"

Chapter 2: A Sanctuary Shrouded In Mystery

As I stepped into the dimly lit dance hall, the smell of cigarette smoke and perfume hit me, mixed with the sound of swing music filling the air. I was here to take a break from the failed attempt at dating, hoping to lose myself in the lively atmosphere. I found a spot at the bar, ordered a whiskey, and leaned against the counter, watching the couples twirl and sway on the dance floor.

Suddenly, a soft voice interrupted my thoughts. "Mind if I join you?" I turned to see a young woman with bright eyes and a warm smile standing beside me.

"Not at all," I replied, gesturing to the empty stool beside mine. "I'm George."

"Matilda," she said, taking a seat. "You look like you could use a dance."

I chuckled. "I'm not much of a dancer, but I appreciate the offer."

"Well, lucky for you, I happen to be an excellent teacher," she said with a playful glint in her eye. Before I could protest, she grabbed my hand and led me to the dance floor.

As we moved to the music, I found myself relaxing in a way I hadn't in a long time. Matilda's laughter was infectious, and her easy confidence made me forget about my earlier dating woes. We chatted between dances, and I found myself drawn to her quick wit and intelligence.

"So, what brings you to this charming establishment, George?" Matilda asked as the band took a break.

"Just needed a change of scenery, I suppose," I admitted. "Dating hasn't been going so well for me lately."

Matilda raised an eyebrow. "Well, I'd say you're in luck, then. You've just met the best dancer in the room."

I laughed, feeling a weight lift from my shoulders. Maybe tonight wouldn't be such a wash after all. As the night went on, we danced and talked, and for the first time in a while, I felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe this chance encounter with Matilda was just what I needed to turn things around.

Everything was fuzzy and hazy, my vision completely blurry as I struggled to make out the images of people moving around my bed. Each figure passed by in a blur until the whole room seemed to be engulfed in a crimson hue, and I couldn't comprehend what was happening.

I attempted to speak to alert someone or seek help, but my mouth wouldn't open, and it felt as if I were trapped. Suddenly, a squishing sound caught my attention, and I glimpsed a hand or something at the bottom right corner of the stretcher.

This sight startled me, and I tried to move, but I found myself unable to budge a muscle. Then, something crawled up onto the stretcher, emitting black gunk from its mouth, sending my anxiety into overdrive.

The creature lowered its head to meet my gaze. "It's all your fault... It's all your fault..." it sneered, its words echoing in the air. As the tension reached its peak, everything dissolved, and I found myself leaping out of bed, seeking refuge in the corner, overwhelmed by tears.

As the sun streamed through the window, the world around me began to come into focus. I found myself confined within the walls of an asylum cell, my memories shrouded in a fog, unable to piece together what had transpired in the mines.

I gazed at my hand, running my finger over the place where my wedding ring should have been. My thoughts immediately turned to Matilda, and I was consumed by worry for her well-being. The memory of those nightmarish creatures sent a shiver down my spine, and I couldn't help but wonder if she was safe from harm.

Cyrus POV:

As I sat in my office, engrossed in the intricate lore of my latest discoveries, my thoughts were constantly drawn to the clock, ticking away the time as I pondered the fate of the patients in the sanctuary. Each one was a potential subject for my experiments.

One name on a file caught my attention: "George Milton, my old friend." A smirk played on my lips as I took a drag from my cigar, exhaling a cloud of smoke. Just then, the door to my office swung open, and in walked my secretary, Louisa.

"Ah, Louisa," I greeted her with a smile, rising from my seat.

Louisa held a clipboard in her hands. "The surviving miners are all in their cells," she reported, her own smile reflecting the satisfaction of a job well done.

"Good. Now, let's get down to business, shall we?" I said, stepping closer to her. Gently, I began to kiss her neck, eliciting a pleasurable moan, and as the door closed behind her, I knew the next few hours would be thoroughly enjoyable.

George POV:

The clattering of footsteps echoed down the corridor, prompting me to scan my surroundings for anything I could use. Finding nothing, my attention was drawn to a passing nurse holding a clipboard. This was my chance.

I seized the nurse from behind, my grip firm. "Where is my wife?" I demanded, my voice urgent. "I need to know what's going on."

The nurse struggled in my grasp. "Let me go!" she insisted. I wrested the pen from her hand and pressed it against her neck. "Where is my wife?"

Her piercing scream pierced the air, summoning a group of guards armed with batons. In a split-second decision, I thrust the nurse toward them and bolted through a nearby side door, sprinting down the hall.

As I came upon Matilda standing by a tranquil fountain, relief and joy washed over me. However, my elation quickly turned to horror as her visage contorted before my eyes, causing me to stumble and collapse.

Soon, I found myself being hauled through a corridor by two guards, their grips unyielding as they dragged me along. I was then firmly secured into a chair, the archaic contraption reminiscent of medieval torture devices. Several individuals clad in coats affixed wires to my skin.

At the forefront of the group stood Cyrus Dreadmoor. Desperately, I struggled against the restraints, but my efforts proved futile. Instead of freedom, I was met with searing agony as electricity surged through my body, overwhelming me with unbearable pain. The torment lasted only a few moments, yet it felt like an eternity before darkness enveloped me, threatening to pull me under.

Stepping forward, Cyrus clasped his hands together and leaned in. "I don't see any change at the moment, Dr. Malcolm. When can I expect to see progress?"

Dr. Malcolm entered my field of vision, lifting my head to examine me. "No, he still appears human. It seems his willpower needs to be broken down."

"Shall we proceed?" Cyrus inquired, his hand resting on a lever.

"By all means," Dr. Malcolm responded, a malevolent smile crossing his face. With a flick of the switch by Cyrus, I was engulfed in excruciating pain, my anguished screams filling the air. Then, a blinding light consumed my senses before everything faded into darkness.