Page 34 of Lethal (Wellard Asylum #1)

I leave the women’s washroom and begin the trek back to my office, rage infiltrating every cell of my body.

How fucking dare they drug, abuse, and make a mess of me.

Once I finally came to my senses, and took a good look at myself in the mirror in my office, I almost vomited at what stared back at me.

I was covered in bruises everywhere, my hair was matted to my skull, not to mention the stench of urine, and cum, that seemed to permeate from my pores. Fucking animals!

They drugged and used me, as if I were a real live doll they could abuse in any way they wanted, and not a human woman with emotions, and the right to consent to their treatment.

How fucking dare they?! I’m going to make sure they pay for that.

One way or another, the Norwood Twins will learn that I’m not inferior to them.

We’re either on the same playing field, and equals, or I’m getting off this circus ride, and not without causing them some bloodshed first.

My eye catches on a white sheet of paper that has been slipped underneath my door, as I step into my office.

Terror seizes me as I stare down at the sheet, as if something on the page could somehow attack me.

I reach down and grab the paper, and it shakes in my trembling hand.

My gaze skims over the messily scrawled words, reading them once quickly, and then having to read them a second time, to force my mind to comprehend the threat implied.

Doctor,

You were so beautiful when you broke. We enjoyed the sounds you made.

One lie undone, one truth exposed, one more left to tell.

Shall we help you remember?

Wren & Bash

P.S. We dreamt of you screaming our names. Tonight, you’ll make our dreams come true. Tick-tock, tick-tock, little toy, we will be waiting.

Room 130, 10pm.

“We dreamt of you screaming our names. Tonight, you’ll make our dreams come true.

” What the fuck does that even mean? Do they think I’ll allow a repeat of yesterday to happen?

I want to be sick, and I want to scream.

Fuck, I want to laugh at the absurdity of their assumptions and demands.

Instead, I fold the note once, twice, and shove it into my skirt pocket, like it hasn’t burrowed under my skin and lit a fire within me.

I make my way to my chair, unsteady at first, everything reasonable, and sane, inside of me urging me to run away from this place, and never look back, instead of contemplating going to meet them.

Unfortunately for my good sense, there’s steel beneath my bones now.

A decision forged in the fire of last night’s sins.

I chose them. I’ll keep choosing them, but I also won’t forget why I came here, and what was done to my beautiful cousin, Cecelia.

What still festers beneath Wellard’s rotting skin. One more lie to tell… or undo.

There’s a knock at my door that pulls me from my thoughts. “Come in,” I direct, placing my hands on the top of my desk, and lacing my fingers to steady my nerves. If this is some other fucked up delivery from the twins, I may actually lose my shit and go on a rampage.

“Miss Vaughan, Doctor Halstead has sent word requesting your presence now in the atrium garden.” A nurse in a dingy blue Wellard uniform pops her head inside my open door.

I stare at her expression, trying to determine if she knows anything about why he’s demanding my presence, but her bored, neutral expression gives nothing away.

“Thank you, I will be right there,” I dismiss the nurse, and she closes the door behind her.

My hand instinctively grazes across the top drawer of my desk.

I reach inside and grab the little present that Wren and Bash left me, hidden inside the pocket of my ruined jacket.

My fingers tighten around the blood-stained metal shiv, and I discreetly hide it from the sight of Halstead’s possible cameras, and slip it into the waistband of my skirt, ensuring my blouse hides its existence.

I don’t know why the brothers decided to arm me, but I’m grateful nonetheless.

A mischievous smile quirks my lips at the thought of possibly using it on Halstead.

I doubt that he would think me capable of such violence, after all, looks can be so deceiving.

To Halstead, I’m weak prey, just like my poor cousin was.

He doesn’t know that the darkness inside of me rivals his own, and craves death and ruin.

It calls out for the souls of monsters, like a grim reaper, prepared to punish them for their sins.

I depart my office with my head held high, and determination settling across my shoulders like a heavy shawl, protective and warm.

I pass the nurse’s station, various curious pairs of eyes sliding over me, and dismissing me.

I’ve never been overly friendly to any of them, preferring to keep to myself, and I know what they whisper to each other about me.

They think I’m an uptight snob, who believes herself too good to be practicing medicine in Wellard Asylum.

If they only knew the real me, and my purpose, would they change their tune?

Would they be terrified for their lives?

It doesn’t matter anyway, because they mean nothing to me.

Not one of them tried to save my cousin, so in my eyes, they are guilty by association.

The sounds of patient screams, behind locked doors, are my company down the hallway, and I get the distinct impression I’m being carefully watched.

Twice, I’ve turned around, and an orderly has paced silently behind me, only to disappear from sight when I turn to confront them.

My shoes echo down the corridor like gunshots, reminding me how desolate this place is.

The cobweb-covered fluorescent lights above flicker a few times, before righting themselves, and it’s enough to steal a breath from my throat.

I tell myself I’m not afraid, that I won’t break again, that I’m stronger than when I first entered Wellard’s doors.

I can still feel the phantom dried blood under my nails, from last night’s encounter with the orderly, and it doesn’t repulse me.

Instead, it feels like it strengthens my resolve.

I turn the corner that leads toward the atrium access, where Halstead lurks in the deceptive shadows of this hell, and something shifts behind me.

It’s just a whisper, the subtlest hush of air, like a cool breath on the back of my neck, that warns me of danger.

I force my steps to halt, and I listen, and yet I hear n othing.

Just the hum of old vents, and the sharp scent of bleach, and decay, clinging to the tile.

“Paranoid much, Cat?” I whisper to myself.

“ You’re unraveling.” I move faster, my pulse ticking inside my ears, and I taste blood from where I’ve bitten the interior of my cheek, to prevent the scream that’s lodged in my throat.

A large, black rat scurries past me, and its beady eyes stop to watch me, as if it doesn’t sense the danger emanating from me.

I flash my teeth, growl deep in my throat, and stomp my feet, until it rushes away back into the shadows.

“This whole place is filled with vermin,” I groan.

The empty hallway feels longer than usual, like it’s stretching, the closer I get to the atrium door.

I fumble for my ID badge, getting it ready to place it against the security reader. Snap.

That wasn’t in my head, fuck, something is here with me.

I spin around too late as a shadow detaches from the wall, moving quickly and efficiently.

A blunt force slams into my stomach, folding me in half.

All the air flees my lungs as I try to scream, but a gloved and massive hand clamps over my lips, and a sour taste fills my mouth.

The large figure doesn’t speak, and for a brief moment, I wonder if it’s Wren or Bash, but the shadow remains silent.

Something cold and sharp presses against the back of my neck.

A needle, my mind supplies with panic. I thrash, kicking and clawing at my attacker.

My nails find flesh, and I hear a grunt, but he doesn’t stop.

His grip tightens further, and my legs buckle, as the needle pierces my flesh.

In a matter of seconds, my vision angles sideways, and the corridor tilts, becoming dimmed.

No. No. No. The man lowers me to the ground like a rag doll, one arm under my shoulders, almost gently, almost…

reverently. As if he’s trying not to hurt me, and again, I wonder if it might be Bash.

His face is still hidden in the semi-darkness, but I catch a glint of his badge, half-tucked under his coat, as my eyes threaten to close.

A white Wellard ID, with no name imprinted on it, just the red mark above the corner of the card, marking him as part of Halstead’s inner circle.

“You wandered too far, Miss Vaughan,” he murmurs, more to himself than to me, his voice soft but stern.

“Now we’ll see how deep your strength truly runs.

” My lips move, but no sound comes out. He taps my cheek twice, mocking me, as he hefts my body in his arms as if I weigh nothing, and I hear the faint beep of the door unlocking.

“Let’s find out who you really are, Doctor.” Then, the world drowns in gloom, and my eyes close against my will. Bash! Wren! Please save me!