Insanity [Patrick Stump Fanfiction]

Epilogue p1

[Maria's POV]
--- One Year Later ---

Jordan never liked me. I could tell by the way she looked at me, though that was before she found out what Patrick was really capable of. No matter her feelings toward me, she needs help and that's what I intend to do. I've been searching for what seemed like ages, yet Patrick hid the both of them away so well that they evaded me. I decided to push harder.

I organized a little search party with staff from Crest Ridge one morning who were happy to help even though they barely knew Jordan. That afternoon, three staff members and I got into my small, red car and began on our thirty mile journey. I made sure to pack a small hand gun in case the situation got out of control. It was for emergencies only.

Police officials got a call about a man sleeping in an old warehouse. They found him on the floor curled up under a thin blanket and using his backpack as a pillow. The officers were the ones who contacted me after they searched through his backpack. There were notebooks filled with sketches and writings inside of the bag that led the officers to compare him to Hannibal Lecter, a brilliant fictional psychiatrist gone mad. The man had given an alias that I recognized instantly. Vaughn Martin.

Patrick used that name the first day he was brought into Crest Ridge. We only found out his real name a month or two before Jordan started working there.

It didn't take long to get to the dark and gloomy warehouse that was abandoned only a year ago. To my surprise, there were no signs of Patrick or Jordan, on the outside anyways. The heavy front doors were ajar and candle light flickered from within the brick building. Cautiously, I entered through the door accompanied by my employees. Symbols scattered the floor. Satanic-looking symbols. I never knew Patrick to be a Satanist since he took pride in his Atheism.

I took my phone from my pocket and turned on the flashlight, holding it out in front of me. The light reflected off of the walls and revealed something sinister. There were bloody scratch marks on the brick and a chunk of a fingernail stuck in a crevice on the wall. A shiver rushed through my body. On the floor, a torn woman's t-shirt was kicked lazily against the wall.

My face contorted in disgust. I turned around to look at my employees and nodded. "They're here," I said with a heavy sigh. "Please be careful, he's dangerous."

Slowly, we moved deeper into the warehouse, staying alert for any foreign sounds or voices. All of the lights were off and it was almost quiet enough to hear the scuttling of a mouse across the concrete floor.

All of a sudden, a metallic clatter rang out from the corner. I looked over at one of my employees, Laurel, who held her mouth shut with her hands and her eyes wide open. I could feel the panic emanating from her. I placed my hand reassuringly on her shoulder. Laurel stood, trembling.

I pulled at the gun stuffed into the waist of my jeans. At the sight of it, Laurel started to cry. "I shouldn't've come here," she whimpered quietly. "Someone's going to die." Laurel was talking to herself but I heard everything.

"Hey," I clutched her shoulders and pulled her against me. I could feel her tears soak through my shirt, but I didn't mind. "I'm glad you came. You're so brave and I need you right now. I need all three of you with me. Nobody is going to die if I can help it. I'll protect you," I promised. Laurel nodded and wiped her eyes.

"Are you going to kill Patrick?" A different employee, Will, asked with a shaky voice.

"Not unless he tries to kill us. I'll protect all of you," I repeated. I hoped that the message made its way through the fear that overwhelmed us all.

"Maria?" A softer yet stronger voice echoed through the empty building. "Is that you?"

"Yeah, Patrick. It's me. Where's Jordan?" I demanded gently. I wanted to gain his trust. The gun stayed hidden behind my back along with both of my hands.

Jordan's voice revealed her position. "I'm here." She sounded different. Her tone lacked emotion and it was strangely unfamiliar.

Jordan swished her hips while she walked toward us. Something was different about her. A demented smile spread her lips, one that I'd never seen from her. She cut most of her hair off and her clothing revealed more skin than I would ever expect from a girl like Jordan.

After Jordan, Patrick came out of hiding. He wore a leather jacket, skinny jeans, and a fedora, which didn't surprise me.

"Jordan! Please, drop the gun!" Will begged, alarmed. Laurel fled back outside and presumably into my car again. I whipped my head around and saw Jordan standing behind Will with a gun pressed against the right side of his head.

"Jordan," I growled firmly. If she is going to act like one of my patients, I will treat her like one of my patients. "Drop the gun."

Jordan pulled the trigger with a sly smile and let Will fell to the ground. "Oops, my finger slipped!" She giggled before prancing back to Patrick's side.

My eyes widened with horror. "What the hell did you do to her?"