Legends of Windemere

West Park Asylum

Raven’s Hold has erupted with howls and screams as its residents are driven into a maddening frenzy. The darkness masks much of the destructive, but the hallways are still littered with body parts. Blood seeps out from under doorways and horrific shrieks can be heard from the gardens. The building shudders under pounding blows against its outer walls, the occasional shadowy giant wandering by the windows. Most of the staff try to hide in the office, but they know it is only a matter of time before the door is broken down. They can hear the whimpers of those trapped among the residents, but the sound is cut off by a glass-cracking laugh that rolls from every corner.

Terrified and desperate to find a place to hide, Ian sprints through the halls that have become a winding maze. With a drooling woman on his heels, he skids around a corner and dives away from another patient. The pair collide and tear into each other with sharpened fingernails, neither remembering their original prey. Their dying howls and curses ricochet off the walls to chase the sweating man through the shadows. As he trips over a mangled wheelchair, the approaching noises become gnarled claws that rip down his back. Instead of agony, a pulse of pleasure runs through Ian’s body and he curls into a ball.

“No. Don’t stop running,” he growls as several pairs of footsteps get closer. “Get on your damn feet and move, Connors.”

Ian uses a door to stand and pauses when it opens with a creak that reminds him of the ravens. Through the growing crack, he can see an abyssal darkness that chills his marrow. Still clutching the handle, he is knocked into the room by a charging man who is covered in crayon-made tattoos. Ian swings over open air while the other patient tumbles into the void, the sounds of crunching bones rising from the darkness. When a woman appears in the doorway, the shadows sprout four-fingered hands that catch her by the throat. Yanking her into the endless room, a jaunty whistle joins the popping that occurs when one of her body parts is bloodlessly remove and tossed into a hovering casket. Her head squeals with glee when it is punted into the coffin and her remains are loudly flushed into the abyss. A gust of wind shoves the door closed and Ian immediately sprints toward a flight of stairs.

After a while, he realizes that the steps are never ending and the sounds of chaos are becoming muted by an incredible distance. Turning around, Ian sees a churning pool of pristine water that beckons to him with the promise of serenity. The scent of lilacs hits his nose and he is about to descend the stairs until he remembers all of the previous threats. With a more cautious eye, he peers at the gentle waves and barely makes out the form of a body beneath the enticing surface. Earning a snarl from the building, the exhausted man takes a seat on the steps and quietly runs his finger along his scars.

“I don’t want to play games any more,” Ian announces, his voice surprisingly calm. The splashing from below draws his attention to a naked form, but he refuses to let his vision focus on the figure. “Let me guess. That’s going to be my wife since I admitted to Dawn that I’m still loyal. You know, I vividly remember the creation of every scar on my body. This one on my wrist was a pocketknife in a movie theater because I sat next to a father and his son. This one on my ankle was a fork that I slipped into my sock during the first Thanksgiving after I lost my family. I wasn’t very good at hiding it back then, so Carla caught me and flipped out.” Ian removes his shirt to make figure eights over his chest. “I kept getting more and more creative with my cutting. The pain wasn’t really pleasure and I never really felt a true release. In all honesty, my goal was to build up my courage. One day, I’d give myself a scar that was more horrific than the one on my heart. Sounds pathetic, but maybe something like that would make the loss more tolerable. People have no idea how broken I really am. Yet someone here figured me out. Have I jumped through enough hoops to meet the real ghost?”

Ian glances over his shoulder when he hears a ding and finds that an elevator has appeared a few steps above him. The doors open to reveal a padded interior, the cushions having been torn apart and the stuffing strewn across the floor. A fluorescent light flickers above and occasionally spits sparks across the ceiling. With his hands in his pockets, Ian steps onto the waiting elevator and leaves his back to the closing doors.

West Park Asylum

With Ian’s room a few doors away, Gina eases her grip on his arm and tries to gently guide the mumbling man to the door. A low growl rolls from the patient’s throat before he whirls around and yanks the stun gun from the orderly’s hand. The device crackles as he jabs it at the woman, her face making him stop an inch shy of shocking her. Adrenaline pumping and confusion twisting his mind, Ian turns the stun gun on himself. The jolt of crippling pain helps clear the fog from his head, which he hopes will allow him to see the differences between Gina and Carla. All it accomplishes is making him wet his pants since he still finds himself staring at the twin of his sister.

“One charge left if I’m reading this correctly,” Ian says while examining the stun gun. A twitch of his eye makes the woman shy away, so he takes a step closer. “Let’s play a game, Ms. Nash. We’ll say you aren’t my sister. Whoever is behind this found someone that looked like her and made all the necessary changes. They made a copy of the necklace or even stole it from Carla. In the end, they created you and had you interact with me. What would be the point of doing that?”

“I don’t know,” Gina replies as she backs against the wall. Her eyes dart from one side to the other in the hopes of seeing someone that can help. “You’re describing something that would take a lot of forethought and planning. It would have had to been put into action before you arrived here. As far as a point, it wouldn’t be to help. The only reason I can imagine for such a treatment is to break you completely and rebuild you. Such a therapy would be immensely unethical and have such a high risk that only a mad scientist would do it. Dr. Rutherford isn’t like that, so I think you’re just confused.”

“Stop saying that!” the man roars, pressing the stun gun to the orderly’s neck. His thumb runs along the button and he grinds his teeth against his lower lip, which draws blood. “I may not know what’s going on, but I’m thinking very clearly. Rich kept talking about ghosts, which isn’t sounding as ridiculous as I once thought. Though I don’t see why they would want to mess with strangers. More than likely, we’re being experimented on either for a reason or for someone’s entertainment. Are there cameras hidden here? Drugs mixed into the food or the medication we take?”

“Even if it was true, I wouldn’t know!”

“Stop lying!”

“Don’t hurt me!”

Biting through his lip, Ian screams, “Then tell me why I’m here!”

“So close! So close! Little puppy came so close!” announces Dawn as she cartwheels out of a doorway. A wicked grin is on her face and she slinks over to Gina, her blood-covered hands touching the other woman’s face. “Why are you here? We aren’t supposed to bring family into the fun. Is it something with him? There’s something going on here and I don’t like it. The little puppy didn’t fit at first, but now he’s becoming one of us. Are you here to stop it? Who is the behind you?”

“Both of you please go to your rooms,” the orderly requests, her body shaking from the sticky fingers on her cheeks. “The reason I’m here is because Dr. Rutherford hired me after I sent in my application. I have no connection to this man.”

Dawn stops and backs away while falling into a predatory crouch, her hands leaving red smears on the floor. She sways back and forth like a serpent that is deciding on if it should strike or retreat. A click echoes from beneath her feet, which causes the unblinking woman to press her ear to the tiles. With no words coming out, Dawn’s lips moves as if she is arguing with something. The debate becomes so heated that spit flies from her mouth and she slips at the floor several times. Unleashing a bark of defiance, she turns her attention back to Gina and begins to flip toward the woman. When she is within reach, the lithe brunette takes a quick swipe with her foot and leaves a gash on the orderly’s cheek.

“I know who brought you here and she needs to know her place,” Dawn declares while running a finger over the bleeding wound. Without looking, her hand lances out and rubs the blood on Ian’s lips. “This place is our home and I’ve been more than willing to share. I even put my dear unicorn to sleep this morning because it got sick from eating Jenny. All I do around here is give and sacrifice, but nobody ever appreciates me. So I’ll make everyone realize who the top bitch in Raven’s Hold is. Let there be darkness!”

Gina lunges for an emergency button that Ian swears was not on the wall a minute ago. He watches as her hand slams onto the red circle and a siren screams throughout the building. The sound of slamming doors mixes with shouts of both confusion and anger. A chair smashes through the glass window of the common room, the shards falling in slow motion and stabbing into the floor. Rustling can be heard in the ceiling and yellow-eyed shadows flit across the dusty vents. A darkness oozes down the hallway and devours everything in its path including the sunlight.

With a joyful giggle, Dawn raises her hands above her hand and waggles her fingers at the terrified orderly. Cocking her head toward Ian, she blows him a kiss and spits at his feet. Taking a relaxing breath, the woman drops her arms and the approaching shadows blast forward to envelope all of Raven’s Hold.

“No fun in normal,” Dawn sings in the darkness. Her voice fades away and is a faint whisper from every direction when she says, “Never any fun in normal.

West Park Asylum

Ian jumps when he is abruptly aware that he is sitting in Dr. Rutherford’s office, the blonde sitting only a few feet in front of him. A glass of water is in his hand, half of it already gone and a small dribble still on the side of his face. The last thing he remembers is being in the forest with Dawn and Jeremy, but now it is midmorning. He masks a casual sniff of his armpit by violently sneezing and turning his head. The mild scent of soap and fabric softener hit his nose, telling him that he has been bathed. A chill runs up his spine while he rubs his stomach, a sharp pain in the spot where Dawn had injected the sedative.

“Are you feeling ill, Mr. Connors?” the doctor asks while shaking her leg. A yawn slips from her lips and she touches her face, the lack of makeup revealing dark circles beneath her eyes. “You have been distracted all morning. This is the second time you’ve asked me a question and zoned out when I answered. I understand that you have had some stressful moments recently, but I’m worried about you pushing yourself too much. Perhaps we should start giving you tranquilizers to help you sleep.”

“I’m sorry, but I had a rough night,” Ian replies, deciding to go along with the session. Rubbing his arms, he winces when he pushes on a barb that is stuck in his elbow. “What was the question? I’ll try to focus.”

“You wanted to know why nobody is concerned with the disappearance of Mr. Garrett and Jeremy,” she repeats before she seems to freeze for a second. As quickly as the strange pause appears, it vanishes and the doctor adjust her glasses. “Mr. Garrett has been cured and sent back to his family. His outburst was so severe that it broke him from his delusions. Honestly, I’ve never seen anything like it, but I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. On the other hand, Jeremy admitted to killing Jenny. For the safety of our residents and to bring closure to Ms. Cohl’s family, we have turned him over the authorities.”

Scratching his head until he draws some blood, Ian chuckles nervously. “I can believe your story about Rich, but the other one is ridiculous. How can a man, even one as big and strong as Jeremy, have the strength to driving something through a woman and a wall? Not to mention I have no idea what kind of weapon he could use. That is unless you have medieval lances or those large crossbow things you can find in old castles. Then again, we would have seen that get brought into the common room.”

“You would be surprised what a person can do on adrenaline and with a tether ball pole.”

“But the hole-”

“What it is that has you stressed, Mr. Connors?”

“Our sessions don’t last long enough for that list, Dr. Rutherford.”

“Call me Grace and give me the top three reasons.”

The door creaks open and Ian has a bad feeling that Gina is entering the room. He refuses to look directly at the orderly, who is carrying an armful of files. With the steady rain outside, the window is closed and gives him the perfect view of his sister. As if mocking him, the penguin necklace can be seen clearly in the glass and Gina never moves into a position that hides the pewter bauble. Ian notices that she repeatedly glances at him, her foot tapping on the floor like Carla would do when worried.

“Would you like to say something to Ms. Nash?” Dr. Rutherford asks when she is ready to continue their session. To stop the orderly from leaving, she catches the woman by the wrist and guides her to a chair. “I’ve heard a rumor that you think Ms. Nash is your sister, which is a ridiculous idea. We would never bring a family member here and nobody is able to get here without our permission. You came to use with anxiety, depression, using self-harm for relief, and suicidal thoughts. If delusions are appearing then I’m afraid we will have to change your medications and threat level.”

“But she is my sister!” Ian snaps while he turns around in the chair. A flicker of anger on the orderly’s face catches his attention, the spark swallowed by mild fear. “The necklace, her tapping foot, her face, and Nash is her married name. Do you either of you think I’m really going to fall for this? I’ve seen a lot of weird stuff since coming here and I’m willing to shrug it off. Dragging my family into this is where I draw the line. What’s next? Will you plaster pictures of my wife and son around my room? Do I get to see their ghosts every night? Maybe you’ll have me wake up to find them alive and all of this is a dream. That is until you decide to tear the illusion down and record my reactions. Is Raven’s Hold really a place to help people or are you simply having fun messing with damaged minds?”

“I assure you that I do nothing unethical here,” the flustered doctor says, her cheeks turning slightly red. Tapping her pen on the notebook, she puts more and more force into every strike until she slips. The point slips between the slit in her skirt and leaves an inky scratch along her skin. “The work we do here may be unique and untraditional, but it is serious. We only want you to become a better person and return to society. Ms. Nash may have similarities to your sister and you are filling in the rest of the delusion. You miss what little family you have left and the unfortunate incidents that you’ve seen here are making your condition worse.”

Leaping from his chair and hurling his unfinished drink at the window, Ian shudders with a blossoming rage. “How can I go from severe depression to hallucinations? That doesn’t make any sense. Nothing here makes any sense.”

“Calm down, Mr. Connors.”

“Are you going to stab me with another syringe or call in a guard with a stun gun? Maybe you can simply hit me in the head with a rock!”

“You’re agitated and confused, so please take a seat and listen.”

“Not with her in the room!” Ian erupts, jabbing his finger toward Gina. The hint of a smirk is on her wide-eyed face, which causes him to twitch. “Are you looking at her? There’s something going on here and it’s at my expense. This place isn’t right. Has anybody ever really left here?”

A rumbling in his stomach fills the awkward silence and gives the two women enough time to get out of the way. Ian lurches forward as the knots in his stomach cause him to vomit. He falls to his knees and shudders from the sudden release, his eyes blinking out of synch for several seconds. Dazed and unable to think straight, he tries to stand on wobbly legs and face the doctor who is calling for the janitor. As soon as he sees Gina, the pain in his gut returns and Ian collapses to dry heave. The puddle of drool beneath his face begins to swirl and twist into the form of a laughing jester. He punches at the warm liquid and tears at the carpet while tears flow from his bloodshot eyes. By the time the bearded man arrives with his cart, Ian is weakly slapping at the ground and barely aware of his surroundings.

“Take him back to his room,” Dr. Rutherford tells Gina, handing the orderly a stun gun. She shakes her head in dismay and gathers the files she needs for the rest of her sessions. “I will be finishing my work in my smaller office. Have two guards stay by Mr. Connors’s door and escort him to his meals. Until we know what has caused these changes, we need to keep him away from the other patients.”

“What do you think will happen to him?” the worried orderly asks as she gingerly helps Ian to his feet. The stench of vomit and drool causes her to wrinkle her nose and hold back her own nausea. “You always had him listed as an easy case. In fact, you wanted Mr. Connors here as a type of mental palate cleanser for yourself. If he’s become as bad as the others then it might not be right to keep him here.”

“If his time here is what caused his downward spiral then it would be wrong to send him away,” the doctor points out while carefully stepping around the janitor. She sighs when she watches the man start tearing up the carpeting. “I need a day to think about this since it’s never happened before. At least not to this extent. Perhaps it is not so much time for Mr. Connors to be labeled as a lost cause, but to do away with one of our long term residents. I’m afraid she’s gone too far this time.”