Shattered Asylum

Chapter 88

The stuff hanging at the end of the pole wasn't cloth.

It was skin.

And now chunks of mine replace the old.

I'm still on the ground, barely conscious, barely breathing, lying in a pool of my own blood. It's tacky beneath me now, seeping into the back of my dress, into my hair, into me. Cold has settled in my bones like it belongs there.

At some point, I realized my wrists weren't just tied. They were chained.

Tight.
Behind my back.
Bolted to something I can't see.

The metal bites into my skin every time I shift, not that I can shift much. The chain gives me maybe an inch. Just enough to wriggle, to feel how truly trapped I am. Not enough to sit up. Not enough to scream.

Not enough to fight back, even if I wanted to.

My hands went numb ten minutes into whatever that thing did to me. The blood stopped circulating. I can't feel my fingers anymore, they might as well be gone.

And he didn't just swing that pole once. He took his time.

Time has no shape in this place. It could've been hours ago. It could've been ten minutes. My brain won't cooperate anymore. Every second stretches out, thick and heavy, like the air in here.

It's been a long time since he left. Long enough that the blood's gone from warm to cold. Long enough that I started hoping I was dead.

But I'm not.

And no one's come. No water. No food. No voice. Just silence.

Well, not total silence.

Every so often, I hear something. Scraping in the distance. A creak. A footstep that might be real... or might be in my head.

I try not to think about it.

Because if it's real... That means he's coming back.

~

The silence stretches.

It's so quiet I can hear my own blood rushing in my ears. The chain creaks softly when I move, the only sound I can make.

And then... the lights go out.

Not dimmed. Not flickered. Snapped off.

Instant, absolute darkness.

The kind that makes you question if your eyes are open. The kind that makes you forget where your body ends and the room begins.

I suck in a breath, heart climbing back into my throat. My senses go haywire, every creak of the walls, every tiny shift in the air feels amplified, alive.

And then it starts.

A sound. Warped. Echoing. Music.

A children's lullaby.

One I vaguely recognize, but it's wrong. Too slow. Off-key. Like it's playing on an old, busted cassette player that's melting from the inside out.

"Go to sleep... close your eyes..."

It plays once.
Then again.
And again.

on a loop.

Each time it gets scratchier. A little more warped. Like it's been recorded over something else. Something that's trying to bleed through.

I press my forehead to the floor. Try to block it out. But it's everywhere. Inside the walls. Inside my head.

My whole body is trembling.

And just when I start to adapt to the dark...

The lights snap on.

Blinding.

A flood of white heat crashes down from above, so strong I scream without meaning to. My eyes slam shut, but the light still cuts through my eyelids like knives. I curl in on myself, trying to hide, trying to disappear.

But the music keeps playing.

"Go to sleep... close your eyes..."

I can't tell if this is a game or a warning. And I don't know which would be worse.

~

I don't know how long the lights stay on.

Minutes. Hours. Days.
It all blends together.

The song plays on a loop, warped and childlike, every pass sounding more like it's being whispered straight into my ear.

"Go to sleep... close your eyes..."

I think I did.
I think I passed out.

Or maybe I dreamed I did.

Because when I lift my head again, the room looks... different.

The floor's still concrete. The walls still gray. But there's something off. The blood beneath me is gone. My hands are unchained. My wrists are clean.

I'm sitting in a chair.

A plastic one, pale blue, like the kind from kindergarten classrooms. My legs are crossed neatly beneath a desk. There's a paper in front of me, a spelling test.

Ten questions. All blank.

And across from me sits... her.

My mother.

Alive.
Beautiful.
Smiling like none of this ever happened.

"Aven," she says softly, like a lullaby, "You're not even trying."

I open my mouth but no sound comes out.

She reaches across the desk, picks up a pencil, and gently places it in my hand. "This is where it starts. Be good for me, okay?"

I look down.

The paper is gone.

The pencil is gone.

What I'm holding isn't a pencil at all, it's the pole. The one with the spikes. and my mother's hand is still wrapped around mine. Guiding it. Pushing it forward.

"Aven," she whispers, "wake up."

My heart lurches.

The lights explode, bursting like shattered glass in my skull, and everything goes black again.

Silence.

Then...

A scraping sound.

Slow. Closer.

A voice behind me. Whispering.

"You failed your test."

Do you think Aven's hallucinating?

When is someone going to save her?

How long has she been in that place?

Word Count:888