Vindicta: The Story of a Vengeful Spirit

Chapter XIV

            Tears streamed down her cheeks; panic grew inside her. Every psychiatric patient saw the same thing. Does that mean that she was like them—or worse, one of them? Dolores lay on the ground, unmoving, then after what seemed like a long, long time, she picked herself up, dusted her dress, then stacked the papers neatly once more before heading out the building.

But she wasn't going in a taxi this time. She ran. It was impossible. Even driving took forty-five minutes to get from here to the mansion, but with all her might, Dolores ran, angry, frustrated, and confused. A little girl running down the sidewalk to escape reality. Pedestrians stared at her, but she didn't stop. It wasn't until her knees ached and sweat ran down her back, staining her dress, that she stopped. She didn't know where she was, and night was already setting in. How long had she run for? She was forced to take a bus home, and it was the dead of night when she arrived. And then she came back to her senses, realized what she had done.

That was mad, wasn't it. It was crazy, exactly what someone mad would have done. She was so smart, so clever, so cunning. A child prodigy, what was she now? But she couldn't believe that, after all, she loved herself too much, she was too selfish to just believe that she was mad. Dolores felt helpless, she had never felt that before. The only thing that she could think to do right now was to curl up in a tiny ball on her bed and cry. She wailed, she screamed, and she sobbed onto her bed.

Her vision was blurred, her ears were ringing with her own screams. She was alone in this mansion, and she was possibly mad. Suddenly through her tears, she could see a dark figure standing in front of her.

"Who are you?" Dolores whispered, "Do you even exist? Or am I mad like the rest of them?"

The spirit only tilted her head and faded away. Dolores could only scream and scratch the walls.

Dolores dragged her feet toward room 413. Filth on the ground caked the bottom of her leather shoes, but she didn't care, because that same filth was obnubilating her insides, too. Her usual confident posture was now an unsure slouch; her usual sharp mind was now like a dull blade. Useless.

Dr Clepta Animi sat in her usual position, legs crossed, and greeted Dolores in her usual fake tone. Dolores tried a smile, but the edges of her mouth felt stiff, and when they did pull up, her eyes almost teared up with the effort. Her stomach throbbed when she sat down, and she felt no will to sit straight, so she crumpled in her chair. Her change in attitude did not go unnoticed by Dr Clepta Animi.

"Sweetie, what's wrong?" the doctor asked, to which Dolores could only shake her head. "Okay, it's okay, you can tell me when you feel like it, m'kay? Now, let's get into it. Have you experienced hallucinations recently, or seen something out of the ordinary?"

Dolores stiffened, but while she shook her head, not uttering a sound, disbelief gleamed in the doctor's eyes.

Movement. Behind the doctor there was movement. Dolores eyes snapped toward the shape, but when she saw who it was behind the doctor, Dolores's blood ran cold. There was again the familiar shape of a young girl dressed in black with a veiled head, just in plain sight. In Vindicta's hand was a tiny vial of clear liquid. Those pale gnarly hands uncorked the bottle, and poured all of it into a mug on the doctor's table. Dolores's stiff shape relaxed. She wasn't the victim; it was the doctor, and who cares what happens to that Clepta Animi.

Dr Clepta Animi turned her head to where Dolores's was fixed behind them, but Vindicta was gone by then, meaning the doctor saw nothing.

"First of all," the doctor said, returning to the session, "would you like some water, Dolores?"

This was strange, the doctor had never offered Dolores water before. Almost immediately, Dolores knew that there would be medication hidden inside the "water." She was about to decline, but the doctor had already risen from her seat. After a few moments, Dolores found a mug in front of her face. A bright red one, with a white heart shape on it. It was the same mug that Vindicta had poured the contents of the vial into.

Dolores jumped, to Dr Clepta Animi's shock, and the young girl began to scramble back onto the far wall.

"No," she cried, "NO! Keep that away from me you vile—"

The doctor tried to regain control by shouting over her voice. "Child! Child! Darling, calm down; it's only water. No need to be alarmed. Dolores, sit down and we'll talk. Okay, no water then!"

But Dolores would not listen. She pounced onto the doctor at once, knocking the mug to the ground, and porcelain shattered at their feet. Dolores's struggle did not stop. She scratched and kicked at the doctor, till they were both sprawled on the floor, each trying to gain the upper hand. Footsteps of a third party rushed toward the commotion, and in seconds, Dolores was restrained. She fought back like a stray cat in a cage, but her limbs became slow, and soon she was out of breath and fell limp. Dr Clepta Animi's face was lined with red trails, and so were her arms. She was explaining the situation to some other doctors who were tending to her.

It was then that Dolores saw her again, the dark spirit of vengeance. She let out a shriek, and tried to struggle against the arms holding her back. Voices swirled around her, asking her what was wrong, as if they couldn't see the spirit. It all made sense now—they were collaborating with Vindicta to kill her. Yes! They were! Traitors, all of them. A doctor came over to the girl's struggling body with a cup of liquid and tipped it down her throat in the mad struggle. A sedative. No. Dolores's vision blurred, but the dark shape remained as clear as ever.