The Serpent and His Girl

A Wreckening of Sorts

    The double doors slam open, startling everyone milling the halls and around the lobby. The sound of heels clicking on the concrete tiles is ominous, the space in between each click drawing a nervous glance towards the entrance hall.

"You." Veronica growls at the receptionist, who cowers behind the glass divider. "Where is Sister Woodhouse?"

   The receptionist raises a shaky hand and points down a long hallway.

"Th-third to last door t-to the left, ma'am." She seems to remember her job, and straightens up. "But you're not permitted back there without a visitor's badge."

Veronica glares at her, slamming her hand on the desk. Taking a deep breath, she paints a sugary-sweet smile on her face.

"Then may I have a visitor's badge?" She waits a beat before smiling bigger and adding "Please."

The receptionist eyes her warily, giving her the form to fill out. Veronica's angry swiping of pen on paper echoes throughout the dreary asylum. She slides the paper back, and crosses her arm. Tapping her Loubitans on the floor, she lets out an impatient huff.

"You're all set." The receptionist passes the raven-haired girl the badge, flinching when Veronica practically slaps the counter to grab it.

   "Thank you." Veronica spits out, forcing a half-assed smile. The receptionist merely nods, going back to her computer.

    Letting out a breath, Veronica turns down the hallway pointed out beforehand. She takes in the almost gothic horror feel of the asylum, peeking into the small windows of each room as she proceeds down the hall.

  She stops short outside a room, seeing a small girl no more than ten sobbing and fighting two nurses. For what, Veronica didn't want to know. She covers her mouth in shock for how small the girl is, for how roughly they're handling her. The first nurse, feeling eyes on him, snaps his gaze up to meet Veronica's stare. The other nurse in there is prepping a shot of some sort, and also looks to see who's observing. Veronica gasps, and backs into the wall on the other side of the hall. She quietly slinks away, making a mental note of the room number: 374.

   She passes the "rec room" which is nothing more than a room full of chairs and couches, each filled with a ghost of a child. Not literal ghosts, she knows. "But they all look so...gone." She thinks, her heart heavy with grief for them. The youngest of the group looks to be six, sitting by the window, her hand resting on the pane. Her eyes seem to say that she's waiting, waiting for her family, or anybody, to come get her. To come and save her. The oldest looks to be seventeen, stoic and broken in a recliner. A well-worn copy of "The Catcher in the Rye" resting on his lap, as he stares off into space. Perhaps, she thinks, remembering better days. Their lives are being wasted, sitting in this asylum. It breaks the young Lodge's heart. 

  Not wanting to attract attention again, she continues her journey. She picks up her pace, not willing to see anymore of the horrors and heartbreaks of this haunting place. Finally, she reaches a door marked "Sister Woodhouse". Knocking, Veronica slowly opens the door.

"Sister Woodhouse?" She asks, preparing herself to confront the head nun. A chilling voice responds from inside.

"May I help you?"

Veronica fully enters the small office now, her eyes taking a minute to adjust to the darkness.

When they finally do adjust, she's met with a compact woman with a strict air of authority. The woman's icy blue eyes remind the Latina of her other abuela's, the one who would send chills down a seven-year old Veronica's spine each time they visited. She passed when the young girl was eight. Veronica shivers at the familiarity, then reminds herself of why she's there.

"I've come to give you a warning, Sister Woodhouse." She sneers, looking the older woman up and down. Scanning from the grayed bun to the red cardigan covering the starchy blue dress to the practical white shoes, Veronica is clearly not impressed. "You see, I talked to poor Polly Cooper."

The older woman pales, her mouth opening as if to say something. Veronica silences the words in the woman's throat by simply holding up a finger.

"Oh yes, and she told me every little detail about the despicable treatments she received here. Not to mention the other treatments given to many of your other patients. So do expect to be pleading in front of a jury soon enough, because by the time I'm finished with you, you're going to be on your knees begging the jury to find you not guilty of several severe charges. I will make sure every last person who works in this hell hole goes down with you, too. None of these kids deserve what's happening to them, not at all. They're shells of themselves, lost to the world because of you and your treatments."

She spits the last word out like it's poison in her mouth. She sends a bone-chilling look Sister Woodhouse's way.

"I will leave you with only the worry of who your cell mate is going to be, and the knowledge that you will have to pray to God that the jury has mercy on you. Which I know they won't."

Sister Woodhouse sputters for a moment, before regaining her words.

"And how do you plan to do that young lady? Who's going to believe an escaped mental hospital patient on any of these concoctions of her delirious mind?"

Veronica places both her hands on the desk and leans forward. Lowering her voice to a severe degree, she faces the head nun with no sense of hesitation.

"I got a look into room 374 today, Sister." She spits out, "How much do you want to bet they're gonna believe a fully mentally healthy visitor of this facility when she's backed by the stories of patients, visitors, and hell even some of the staff here? Face it, they'll all turn on you when the time comes. After all, who wants to serve a life sentence when you could get off so much easier for just telling the truth?"

Veronica smirks.

"After all, isn't that one of the core values of your beliefs here? That honesty can save us all?"

The older woman swallows hard, a glint of fear passing so quick through her eyes that the Latina almost believes she imagined it.

"So consider this your one and only warning, Sister Woodhouse. There will be a wreckening here, so if I were you? I'd start praying."