Page 16 of Asylum
He gets off on the pain and torture of patients. If it does them harm, he’s all for it. Saying those things may seem hypocritical, but what I have in store for Olivia will mutually benefit us both. He craves suffering. I craveher.
Maybe I’ll let Olivia kill him one day before we leave this place.
I’ve amended my plans to include getting her out of this place. The details have yet to come to me, but I refuse to accept Wellard Asylum as her home. I’m going to cure her, reset her. There’s no way I’ll be comfortable putting all this effort into her just to leave her here. It would be counterproductive to all my hard work.
As I approach the room where she’s being held, I breathe deeply, centering myself. She’ll experience pain now, but there’s a larger picture she’ll come to understand. I’ll scramble her up a bit, molding her into an obedient little doll, just for me.
I’ll save her.
Pushing open the heavy, metal door, I saunter inside with every bit of confidence I feel. Nurse Carter stands beside the gurney where Olivia is restrained. Leather straps bind her wrists and ankles, while another stretches across her forehead, pinning her head in place.
“Thank you, Nurse Carter,” I say flatly. I can’t stand the old bitch, but she serves her purpose in times like this. She’s cold and heartless, her presence only spreading misery to the patients because she thinks they’re nothing. She may not be as bad as Halstead, but I’ll most likely kill her before we leave.
Olivia stirs at the sound of my voice, her eyes widening slightly in her heavily medicated state. She growls like a feral dog, jerking against the leather straps binding her.
“Calm down, Miss Sterling!” Nurse Carter shouts, and it causes my temper to flare.
“Do not speak to her, Nurse Carter. Just stand there and do what I say. No commentary needed,” I grit out, and she takes a step back at my tone.
Turning my attention back to my helpless little doll, I smile. “Shhh, Olivia. Everything is going to be okay. Your trauma is holding you back, worsening your mental state. I’m going to help you.”
She growls again, and if Nurse Carter wasn’t standing beside me, I’d whip my dick out and stroke it until I’m coming all over her pretty face.
Later.
The gurney whines as she struggles against the straps, but it’s no use. She’s trapped.
In more ways than one.
Giving her my back, I focus on the electroconvulsive machine, flipping the power switch on, letting it warm up. These days, doctors usually administer anesthesia before performing shock therapy. Here at Wellard Asylum, we believe the more you feel, the more it stimulates your brain to expel the disorder ailing you. Neither credible nor moral theory, it’s how we do things.
My eyes shift to the metal head piece lying beside the machine. I wrap the ends with white cloth, dipping them into a metal bowl filled with cool water. Defibrillator gel is preferred, but water will work just fine. She may be left with scorch marks on her temples, but nothing too serious.
Facing my very angry patient again, I grin. She’s so violent and hostile. So beautiful and unhinged.
The things I want to do to her.
“Would you like me to place the muffs on her head?” Nurse Carter asks, and a low growl rumbles deep in my chest.
“No. I don’t want you touching her. Or looking at her. In fact, face the wall, Nurse Carter, until I tell you otherwise.”
Her withered eyes widen, but she obeys, shuffling herself into the corner like a child.
My gaze finds Olivia, and if looks could kill, I’d be a dead man. “What the fuck are you doing to me?” She grits out, her voice rough and raw as if a demon is trying to claw its way out of her.
“I’m helping you, Olivia. This will ease the pain in your mind,” I murmur, stroking her cheek with my fingers. She snaps her teeth, merely missing my hand, and I chuckle.
Reaching behind me, I lift the rubber mouth guard from the counter, attempting to place it between her teeth as she continues fighting the inevitable. Gripping her lower jaw, I press my thumb against her lower teeth, pushing down forcefully. After sliding the guard into her mouth, I remove my finger quickly, avoiding her vicious bite. She tries to spit it out, but I cover her lips with my hand, shaking my head. “You’re going to need it to protect those beautiful teeth.”
Her green eyes widen a fraction, all her fight halting momentarily. I’m not stupid enough to believe she’s surrendering; this is the episode slowly receding. Her expressions allow me into her mind as the rage dissipates, realization and fear seeping into her bones.
Sliding the contraption over her head, the muffs settle tightly against her temples. She flinches, drops of cool water sliding down her clammy skin, disappearing into her hairline. Our gazes lock, and I see the terror in her eyes, the anxiety causing her body to tremble.
Don’t worry. I’m going to fix you, little doll.
My hand finds the voltage dial, turning it up to one-hundred and twenty volts since this is her first treatment. Placing my finger on the black button that will send an electrical current through her brain, I catalog every emotion I can interpret in her emerald eyes.
Confusion. Fear. Hate.