𝙰 𝙳𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝙶𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎

Prologue

The heavy steel doors SLAM shut, their deafening clang reverberating through the dim, sterile room, a sound that seems to echo the finality of Robyn's situation.

The air is thick with tension, a palpable anxiety that clings to the walls, mingling with the antiseptic scent that permeates the space.

Robyn, disheveled and wild-eyed, thrashes violently, her limbs flailing as two orderlies grapple to hold her down. Each movement is frantic, a desperate attempt to escape the confines of her reality. Every scream she unleashes seems ripped from her soul, raw and guttural, echoing off the cold, tiled walls, a haunting melody of fear and desperation.

"Get these bastards off me!" Robyn's voice cracked like shattered glass. She twisted and bucked against the hands holding her, her sneakers squeaking on the polished floor. "You can't lock me up like some animal! I know my fucking rights!"

The doors slammed like a judge's gavel, the sound punching through the air. It bounced off the blank walls, mixing with the sharp bite of bleach and sweat. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting harsh shadows across Robyn's face as she fought.

Her dark hair whipped around her face, sticking to tear-streaked cheeks. The orderlies' grip never loosened, their faces set in practiced calm while she writhed between them. Each breath came out as a ragged sob or a curse, her throat raw from screaming.

"I swear to God, when I get out of here-" she choked on the words, her chest heaving. Her nails dug crescents into her palms, knuckles white with strain. The fight slowly drained from her muscles, leaving behind trembles that shook her whole body.

The halls stretched ahead, endless and empty, swallowing her protests like they'd swallowed so many before her.

Nurse Carla, a seasoned veteran with weary eyes that have seen too much, stands at the forefront, directing the staff with calm authority. Her presence is a stark contrast to the chaos unfolding before her. The other nurses, clad in pale blue scrubs, move swiftly, but with the cautious precision of those who've witnessed this kind of scene unfold too many times. They are well-trained, yet the weight of their experiences hangs heavily in the air.

"Jesus Christ, strap her down NOW!" Carla barked, her fingernails digging into her clipboard. "She's gonna wreck the whole damn place!" Her voice cracked with authority born from years of similar showdowns.

Mike and Dave, the unlucky pair on restraint duty, fought against Robyn's rage-fueled strength. Mike barely dodged a wild swing aimed at his face, while Dave caught the full force of her Nike to his gut. The impact knocked the wind from his lungs, but his grip stayed iron-tight on her thrashing legs.

"Keep... her... steady!" Mike grunted through clenched teeth, dodging another swing. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he wrestled with her arms, trying to guide them toward the waiting restraints. A string of colorful curses flew from Robyn's mouth, each one more creative than the last.

Dave wheezed but managed to keep his hold. "Little help here?" he called out, voice strained. "This one's got a mean right hook AND kick!"

The room buzzed with controlled chaos - medical equipment rattling, shoes squeaking against linoleum, ragged breathing mixing with desperate shouts. The overhead lights cast everything in a harsh, unforgiving glare, turning the scene into something straight out of a nightmare.

Carla stepped closer, needle ready. Her face was a mask of professional detachment, but her eyes held a flicker of something - maybe sympathy, maybe resignation. She'd played this scene out hundreds of times before, each one different, yet somehow always the same.

Carla keeps her distance, but her presence fills the room. Her face shows the exhaustion of someone who's done this dance a hundred times before. Around her, the other nurses glide through the mayhem with practiced moves, their blue uniforms blending together as they work. They know the drill - you can see it in their faces, in the way they anticipate each other's movements. Been there, done that, got the bruises to prove it.

"I'm as sane as they come, you bastards!" Robyn's voice cracked, raw from screaming. Her eyes darted wildly, searching for an escape. "This is a goddamn mistake! Let me go, or I swear I'll make you regret it!" She thrashed harder, her body a whirlwind of fury and desperation. "You can't keep me here! I don't belong with the crazies!"

Her cries grow more hysterical, her voice shredded from the effort, each word a testament to her unraveling sanity. She twists desperately, trying to break free, her eyes darting wildly around the room, searching for an escape that seems increasingly elusive. Her gaze lands on the imposing chair in the center — its leather straps dangling ominously, waiting like a predator for its prey. Panic flashes in her eyes, a visceral fear that grips her heart.

"You backstabbing piece of shit!" Robyn's scream echoed down the hallway, her voice cracking with rage. She jerked against the orderlies' grip, teeth bared. "Michael's the lying bastard who set this whole thing up! He belongs in here, not me!" Her eyes were wild, darting between the faces around her as she fought to break free. Sweat plastered her hair to her forehead while she twisted and bucked, but the hands on her arms only tightened. "Let me go! I'll kill that snake when I get out of here! You've got the wrong fucking person!"

NURSE CARLA approaches with a syringe, her face betraying no emotion, her steps slow but deliberate, as if she is walking toward an inevitable conclusion. Robyn's eyes lock onto the needle, sheer terror replacing the fury in her expression, the reality of her situation crashing down upon her like a tidal wave.

"No... no, no, NO!" She fought harder, her screams bouncing off the walls.  Her voice cracked and broke, desperation bleeding through every word. But the nurses kept moving in, steady as sharks, closing the distance inch by inch.

"Get that fucking thing away from me!" Robyn's voice shot up an octave as her eyes locked onto the needle. Her body jerked like she'd been electrocuted, shoulders slamming against the orderlies' grip. "I swear to God, you stick me with that and I'll—" The threat died in her throat, replaced by a scream that ripped through the room. She thrashed harder, muscles coiled tight, fighting against the hands that held her down. Spit flew from her mouth as she cursed, her feet kicking wildly at anything within range.

Her strength ebbs, but her desperation intensifies, a final surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins. Tears streak her flushed face, the last remnants of her defiance mingling with exhaustion. The nurses exchange brief, knowing looks, their expressions a mixture of empathy and resignation.

"For fuck's sake, Robyn, we're not taking you to the electric chair," Nurse Carla snapped, rubbing her temples. Dark circles under her eyes betrayed countless nights just like this one. She stepped closer, her scrubs rustling as she moved. "Look at me. Look right here." She waited until Robyn's wild eyes met hers. "You think we're out to get you? Please. I've got twenty other patients who need me, and I'm standing here watching you throw a tantrum. So what's it gonna be - you gonna work with us, or should I grab some honey and lemon tea for when you scream yourself hoarse?"

Carla's words hit empty air as Robyn thrashed harder, her neck snapping back while she fought against the inevitable. Her teeth ground together, jaw clenched so tight it hurt. The second orderly's fingers dug deeper into her arm, and together they muscled her towards the chair. When they finally slammed her down, the freezing leather made her skin crawl.

"I'm not fucking crazy, you assholes!" Robyn's voice ripped through the room, her throat raw from screaming. She yanked against the leather straps until they cut into her skin, her whole body shaking with rage. Sweat dripped down her temples as she thrashed in the chair. "You're making the biggest goddamn mistake of your lives!"

Robyn's bloodshot eyes locked onto Carla, blazing with a mix of pure loathing and raw desperation. "That manipulative fuck Michael orchestrated this whole shit-show!" Her voice cracked into a hysterical half-laugh, half-sob. "Wake the hell up! Can't any of you see how he's played you? He's got all of you dancing on his strings like fucking marionettes!"

The words burst from her lips like venom, her face contorted with a manic intensity that sent chills through the room. Spittle flew as she spat each accusation, her body trembling with uncontrolled rage. The fluorescent lights caught the wild glint in her eyes, reflecting a dangerous cocktail of paranoia and fury.

Her fingers clawed at the air, white-knuckled and shaking. "That snake charmed every single one of you!" Each word dripped with bitter hatred, her voice hoarse but powered by pure adrenaline. "He's the one who needs to be strapped down in this hellhole, not me! Open your fucking eyes!"

The accusation echoed off the sterile walls, carrying notes of both terror and conviction. Her chest heaved with each ragged breath, tears of frustration cutting tracks down her flushed cheeks. The mix of desperation and certainty in her voice made even the seasoned staff exchange uneasy glances.

Her ragged breaths came fast as she strained against the straps, making the old chair groan. "The second I bust outta here - and trust me, I will - that backstabbing son of a bitch is gonna regret the day he fucked with me. You can bet your ass on that!"

Robyn's head whipped from side to side, searching for a sympathetic face among the staff. Finding none, she let out a guttural howl that echoed off the sterile walls. "He's the psycho, not me! Can't you idiots see that?" Her voice cracked, exhaustion seeping through the rage. "I swear on my life, I'm telling the truth!"

She yanked at the restraints once more, her wrists already sore and chafing. "When I get out of here—and I will get out—you'll all be sorry!" Robyn's threat dissolved into a sob, the fight draining from her body. She slumped in the chair, tears streaming down her face. "Please," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Please don't do this to me."

The leather straps are tightened around her wrists and ankles with cold efficiency, a binding that feels like a shackle to her very soul. Her chest heaves, each breath labored and shallow, as the room spins around her, her sense of reality unraveling like a frayed thread. Nurse Carla looms over her, syringe in hand, her movements methodical, her gaze steady but heavy with fatigue, a silent acknowledgment of the toll this job takes on those who care.

Nurse Carla's voice cut through the chaos, a mix of exhaustion and practiced calm. "Alright, Robyn, enough of this song and dance. Take a deep breath and try not to make this worse than it already is." She paused, syringe poised. "This'll knock you out for a bit. When you wake up, maybe we can have a real conversation without all the dramatics."

Robyn's body quakes, her reserves spent, the fight slowly draining from her. Her eyes blaze with fury, yet beneath it, fear remains, a flickering flame in the encroaching darkness. Her breathing is shallow, her voice barely a whisper now, a fragile plea for understanding. Robyn's body trembled, her strength evaporating like a puddle in the sun. Her eyes, once blazing with defiance, now flickered with a mix of desperation and fear. She sucked in a ragged breath, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Wait, fuck, please," she gasped, her eyes ping-ponging between the needle and Nurse Carla's stern face. Her chest heaved as she struggled to get the words out. "Michael's not- he's not what you think. That man... the things he's done..." She sucked in a sharp breath, voice cracking. "Just give me one goddamn minute. Please. I can prove it. I can prove everything."

Robyn's throat burned raw, her voice cracking as she swallowed. The fight had drained from her body, leaving only desperate words. "Please," she whispered, tears cutting tracks down her face. "I swear to God, I'm not crazy. It's Michael - everything that happened, it's all him." Her fingers strained against the leather straps, scratching uselessly at the armrests. "Just... just listen to me. Please. You've gotta believe me."

"Hold still," Nurse Carla murmured, but Robyn barely heard her through the pounding in her ears. The needle bit into her arm - a sharp, cruel pinch that made her whole body jerk. The medication hit her system like a truck, turning her limbs to lead. She tried to keep fighting, to stay alert, but her muscles wouldn't listen anymore.

The fluorescent lights above started to blur and swim. Robyn's head felt too heavy for her neck, everything going soft around the edges. She slumped deeper into the chair, her thoughts scattered like marbles on concrete. The room had gone quiet except for the hum of machinery and her own sluggish breathing.

Through half-closed eyes, she caught the nurses trading looks - that same damn mixture of pity and practiced detachment she'd seen too many times already. Her head lolled to the side as the sedative dragged her under. The last thing she saw was Nurse Carla's clipboard, swimming in and out of focus before everything faded to black.

"Tough break," muttered one of the orderlies under his breath, shaking his head as he stepped back from the now-limp form in the chair. Nurse Carla shot him a warning glance, her lips pressed into a thin line. She pocketed the empty syringe, her movements brisk and efficient.

"Alright, people, show's over," she announced, her voice carrying a hint of weariness. "Let's get her settled in her room. And someone clean up this mess, for Christ's sake." She gestured at the scuff marks on the floor, evidence of Robyn's frantic struggle.

As the staff bustled around, preparing to move Robyn, Carla allowed herself a moment of reflection. She'd seen countless patients come through these doors, each with their own story, their own demons. But something about Robyn's desperation nagged at her. She pushed the thought aside. In this job, doubt was a luxury she couldn't afford.

"Poor girl," she murmured, almost inaudibly, before turning on her heel and striding out of the room, leaving the others to their tasks. The heavy door swung shut behind her with a dull thud, sealing off the scene like the final page of a chapter best forgotten.