The Torment

Five

"The patient in room 4 is gone, the doctors took her too" Clinton walked into the room, pacing back and forth.

"Who?"

"The woman, one who started the argument in the conservatory that day" He explained, sending chills down my spine. If they took the woman, then who's next?. We had to hurry.

Clinton stopped pacing and then looked me dead in the eye. "Whatever you do, you do it tomorrow, we don't have much time left"

"That's what I'm trying to say, let's go" I got off my bed and went for the door. But before I could open it, the knob jiggled, and it opened, revealing Patrick.

"They locked the library and reported the map missing" He explained before locking us in the room. Despite the cold, sweat had made its way to his forehead and he panted. "Quick, what's the plan?" he asked, completely ignoring Clinton's existence.

"You said you'd see the doctor's schedule?" I asked.

"Yes, I was right, there's only one on the shift from nine in the night to three in the morning"

"Well, then I need you to call the cops at ten and Clinton's supposed to get me the camera"

"Excuse me, who?" Patrick questioned.

"Clinton," I replied. He searched my face for a while before nodding and I carried on with the details. We spent an hour discussing every opportunity and problem. Patrick started to sweat more with the passing seconds as I revealed the plan further. Clinton only nodded once or twice, sometimes I caught him staring out of the window blankly which made me wonder if I'm trusting the right people.

"A living witness, you do realize that anyone who goes into that ward certainly does not come out living?" Patrick asked, flabbergasted.

"She's alive," Clinton spoke, staring out of the window with a scowl. Patrick looked at him once with widened eyes and then nodded.

"Alright" He whispered with a nod before walking out of the room. As soon as he left, I turned to Clinton who looked lost.

"You really didn't have to do the old man like that" I raised a brow and his eyes averted to me before he stalked towards me.

"I feel like there's something off with this guy" He cocked his head to the side.

"He's my uncle" I chuckled, but his face remained solemn.

"Where was this uncle of yours when you were suffering with your grandmother?" He questioned, narrowing his eyes.

"God, what's wrong with trusting him, Clinton?" I smiled nervously and he sighed, looking out of the window again.

"Everything" He spoke. "Everything is wrong with trusting him" He tried to walk past me when I grabbed his arm.

"Are you in this with me, say yes or no" I asked. He stared at me, surprised and then at his arm that I'd grabbed.

"I am with you but we don't know if we're trusting the right person" he spoke more gently this time.

"Right" I stated, narrowing my eyes slightly and he chuckled.

"You don't believe me? After all that?" He queried, passing me a hysteric smirk.

"That's not what I meant" I sighed, letting go of his arm. "Listen, all I want is to get us out of this hellhole and expose their malpractice"

"I promise, I'll get us out of here" I spoke and he smiled, slowly. I couldn't make out what emotion swirled in his ocean eyes for a second but I could tell that it was one of contentment.

"Anyways, I need your help" I informed, tearing away my eyes from his and he cleared his throat. "I don't know which room she's in, the crazy woman"

"So you're really going to talk to her?"

"Yes, I wasn't joking, cover up for me while I look for her file in the locker room" I said and he sighed.

"You're impossible" He added and I smirked. The locker room was situated in the back of the asylum, hidden by a series of corridors. Clinton led us through the maze of rooms like it was his usual stroll.

"You still haven't told me what you're here for?" I asked as he tucked his hands into the pockets of his black pants, the back of muscles stretching.

"Well, you could call me a saint for all that matters" He smirked.

"Saint? I don't think so" I chuckled as we turned into another corridor. It was seven in the evening, usually the time when the hallways were empty because the patients were with their respective therapists. They'd stopped sending a therapist my way a few days ago since I was supposedly on a high dose of sedatives.

"A prince in a shining armour, then?" He sent another smirk my way.

"Shut up" I laughed. He stopped walking and I almost bumped into him, glancing at what was in front of him. A card-activated lock. I was stupid to think they'd let us in like that.

"What do we do now-" I was cut off when Clinton clapped a hand over my mouth and pulled me back. A nurse passed by us, carrying a bunch of medicines. We glimpsed as he pulled out his card and swiped it against the lock, which approved. immediately.

"Close your eyes," Clinton whispered behind me.

"Why?" I asked and he looked at me, annoyed.

"You ask too many questions, Arahood" He said and I closed my eyes. By the time I opened them again, he was gone from my side and stood in the locker room, gesturing at me to come in.

"Where'd the nurse go?" I asked as he picked up a file and pointed behind me. The nurse lay unconscious on the floor which made me gape at him.

"The file, look for it" He ordered and I nodded, rummaging through the drawers. A few minutes passed and the atmosphere got more tense. I couldn't find the file, not even a trace of it and was almost done with the last one.

"It's not here" I spoke, frustratedly.

"Look on the desk" He informed me and my eyes caught the little desk at the end of the room. Walking towards the desk, I inspected the file with a red mark on it. It was a small dot at the corner, and the file was labelled with the name 'Phoebe'. I searched the file for a picture and found her round, scared face staring back at me.

"Found it" I called out to Clinton who walked towards me. Besides her picture and a bunch of papers proving that she suffered from some mental issues, there was an envelope and what was inside, almost made me throw up.

Picture of fragments from her body- A finger, an ear lobe, a toe nail.

Room number ten. Floor fourth.

I shut the file and swallowed the lump in my throat. The pictures were stuck in my mind.

"We need to go," Clinton informed as the bell rang, signalling the end of therapy for the patients.

"Cl..Clinton '' I stuttered, holding up the pictures in front of him, making his eyes open wide. We left the locker room shortly and left the nurse inside.

In my room, I took a place on my bed and Clinton followed. He looked as pale as a ghost, sweating excessively. I placed my hand on his shoulder, only to realise that he was shivering badly.

"Clinton?" I asked and he stared at me blankly.

"Clinton?!" I shouted, jerking him by his face. A piece of his blonde locks fell over his forehead and he blinked.

"I'm okay," he informed me, bringing his hand to mine. "Just, sleep tight tonight, tomorrow's a long day" he stood up from his place, wiped the sweat from his forehead and walked out. Just like that, I was alone once again, plotting for tomorrow.