Burlap

19 - Bad Company

A/N: Happy Halloween! Bonus chapter time! Muscle through this one to the end, and get a nice little plot rolling surprise. :)

"Kate."

I lifted my head from my paperback and scanned the room. Not that I'd actually been reading it. All that seemed to reside in my head anymore was the knowledge that John had asked to court me, if we ever got out of here. I hadn't said anything to him about it, getting the distinct impression from Robbie that I wasn't supposed to know, but I also didn't want to change things between us yet. There was a certain quality that altered in relationships when things became official, and I couldn't afford that as long as every bad thing at Rosenton loomed over my head.

George stood in the lounge doorway, eyebrows drawn in anger and mouth pursed in displeasure. Everyone else had already left for the monthly trip to town- the trip I'd never been approved to go on.

"Yeah?" I asked, already knowing he needed to me to stay with Lottie, maybe not knowing she'd already left. He only showed his emotions so easily when his parents visited, and I couldn't say I blamed him. Too many times, I'd been visiting Robbie at the same time George's mother and father came for him, and the horrible things his father snapped and yelled at his only son would have made me less than eager to meet with them, too. How George managed to sit there, across from that monster, every visit with a cool, mocking smile on his face, I'd never know. But, there were a lot of things I couldn't understand about the hardened teen. At that point, I just counted myself lucky he was on my side, it seemed.

"Lottie's in her room. It'll be a while," he replied, voice cold and commanding.

"She didn't go with the others?" I asked, surprised. Of all of us, she and Marcie tended to get the most excited to go shopping and eat at the diner they'd described to me a million times. Envy didn't begin to describe the feelings swirling in my gut for the juicy hamburgers and root beer floats they gushed on and on about when they came back each time.

"She wasn't approved this week. Go to her. Now," he snapped, his impatience with my questioning ringing loud and clear, though I suspected it was more a result of having to go greet his beast of a father than anything to do with me.

Sliding the small scrap of fabric I'd been using as a bookmark between the pages, I closed my book and left it on the coffee table, following George out into the hallway. We split ways when the hallway divided into two directions, him taking the way that led to the stairs and me turning down the corridor to the womens dorms. He never so much as looked back at me, knowing our routine well enough to trust I'd obey and go straight to his little shadow, keeping her company until he returned.

Why do you let him walk all over you? You're weak and stupid. Do you really think letting him order you about is any different than when Charlotte and Gregory did it?

I rolled my eyes at her attempt to manipulate me into turning against George. Power had been extra cranky and snippy all day, and I couldn't help but wonder if she was jealous that John wanted Sane Kate, and not her. It had to be a blast to her enormous ego.

Funny, I thought, directing the notion to her loud and clear. Wasn't she the one who cowered like a scared puppy when George had threatened her so long ago? The strong and unbreakable Power, put in her place by a young teen who couldn't even grow facial hair yet.

Power, a vision in a sparkling white leotard with red trim and an elaborate feathered headdress, stepped from the dorm room just in front of me. Her eyes held a fire I hadn't seen in a long time as she strolled toward me, hands on her hips as her scarlet heels clicked against the cold floor. Her mouth moved as if she were speaking aloud, but her voice only reverberated inside my head, making me shiver at the odd discombobulated combination.

You'll die one day, Sane. And you'll be dead and gone and you'll still be the scared little mouse you've always been. You'll never stand up for yourself, and you'll never live a normal, disgustingly happy life, she sneered, halting only when her body was mere inches from mine. So close I could feel her body heat radiating on my prickled skin. I hated when she showed herself like this. Why couldn't she stay in my head, locked away like the animal she was?

But, you know what will happen to me? She continued on without waiting for my answer, which I expected. I'll find someone else's head to live in. I'll look just like a better version of them. I'll have the better version of their voice, their eyes, their skin... And I'll live on while you rot.

I closed my eyes, forcing myself to take deep, calming breaths as she circled me. A predator inspecting its prey, pinpointing and exploiting its weakness. But, I would give her none. No fear, no trembles, no tears.

What about Marcie? Could you imagine her living with me in her head? She's beautiful. Much prettier than you, she said, disgust poisoning her tone. Or little Lottie. She's young. Malleable. I could do wonders with her. Such fresh fruit, ripe for the picking.

She stopped in front of me again, and I opened my eyes to meet her furious glare head on. With a coldness so scathing I could have only learned it from Power, herself, I peered at her through narrowed eyes and stepped around her, continuing on to my destination without giving her the satisfaction of a reaction.

Her chilling laughter followed me as I strode down the hall, making all my senses run on high alert, aware that I'd made the choice to turn my back toward her. Hallucination or not, there was no doubt she'd be able to harm me if she was presented with the opportunity. Walking away from her, my back to her, shed a blinding spotlight on that chance, and I became aware of that a fraction of a second too late.

Two hands rammed into my shoulder blades, shoving me forward to crash into the wall. One of the metal doorknobs caught the underside of my ribcage, and bright, unbridled pain blossomed up from the impact point, making tears spring to my eyes as I tried to catch my breath. Both my hands flew to my side, cradling the agonizing injury.

Ignore me again, Power dared from inside my head, all mocking and warmth gone.

Taking a long, cleansing breath, I straightened up and locked my eyes on Lottie's door, meeting her dare head on by dismissing Power with the cold assurance that I was no longer scared of her.


***


"Why is George here?" I asked Lottie, spinning in circles on the desk chair one of the older nurses had left in their room by mistake. It had wheels and a lever to adjust the height, and the novelty still hadn't worn off on me as I savored the feeling of spinning so fast that everything went out of control.

Lottie looked up at me from her perch on her bed, her previous smile faltering. An assortment of dolls and stuffed animals hogged the bed space at her cheap headboard, but she didn't seem to care. The young woman scratched at a loose thread on her blanket, twisting her mouth in a grimace.

"He's here because he has a problem with bullies."

"I wonder if there's more than that? It's so strange..."

Lottie's fingers twitched uncomfortably, her face paling under my inquiry. I hadn't meant to interrogate her, but aside from Ed, George was the only one in our ward that neither Power nor I could quite figure out. And he knew about my crimes and diagnosis. Why shouldn't I know his? John had made it a point to show that I could trust in our little family. Didn't that courtesy run both ways?

"I think it's time for lunch. We should go," the girl muttered, glancing every which way but toward me.

She knows. She just doesn't trust you.

Oh, to be able to block Power out completely...

My feet skidded to a stop below me and I waited for my brain to catch up with the rest of me that was no longer spinning. With a few hard blinks, my sight and perception went back to normal and I stood, smiling at Lottie. "Alright. Let's go."

Lottie hopped up and nearly sprinted from her room and all the way to the cafeteria. Guilt rose up in my chest for my questions making her so uncomfortable, but I was too busy trying to keep up with her to dwell on that. Her skeletal frame burst through the cafeteria doors, and as what I could only guess was a gesture of good will, she glanced back at me over her shoulder and smiled as she got in line for her lunch. Ham sandwiches today, with a tiny bowl of grayish macaroni and cheese as a side. Utterly unappetizing, but it got the job done as far as nourishment went.

We had only been at our table for ten minutes, grinning and chatting about silly things as if our earlier conversation about her strange protector hadn't happened, when the doors opened and our other ward mates, sans George, poured in. Smiles decorated their faces, as they always did after the monthly trip to town. Even John seemed rejuvenated and airy as they skipped the line for food-darn it, they ate at that diner!-and headed straight for us.

Marcie bent at her waist to wrap her arms around my neck in a short hug, startling me into looking to Esther for guidance. The Latino beauty shrugged and turned her attention back to Ed, who smelled of smoke again. Black smudges decorated his fingers, the very tips of them a bright scarlet color. Like burns, I realized, eyes wide as the metaphorical light bulb clicked on with a blinding light in my head. But, from what?

Lunch carried on, as it always did, with just a little more enthusiasm and life infused into the conversation as a result of the trip to town. I focused my attention on Lottie as a way to not think about John's request to be with me if we ever got out of Rosenton. Every time our eyes met, heat flooded my cheeks and embarrassed me, so I opted to pretend he wasn't there to save myself from the humiliation of answering why I kept blushing when I looked at him. 

Lottie and I had just calmed down from a fit of giggles over the burly man-woman nurse in the corner jolting herself awake after falling asleep at her station behind the cafeteria food line. The man-woman had nearly fallen from her tiny stool, throwing her hands out to the front just to have her chin collide with the edge of the counter, and Lottie and I were the only two to witness the scene.

Then it happened. I didn't even realize it at first. But when the rest of the table went quiet in stunned positions, mouths hanging open, it hit me. 

Lottie took a bite of her macaroni.


***


"Then Esther told him we were from Rosenton, and he about fell out, trying to get as far away from us as possible!" Marcie snickered, holding her hand over her chest as she held back the unforgiving laughter. 

Lottie and I giggled at her story. It felt good to see Marcie smiling and chattering again. Her dive into depression had been short lived, and for that we were all thankful.

She skipped ahead, twirling her platinum strands around her manicured fingers. Every bounce to her step radiated life and childish happiness, something I found contagious as I followed after her with Lottie at my heels. Marcie tilted her head back, basking in the moonlight as she grabbed the hem of her lace skirt and twirled in a circle. Her a-line dress billowed out in graceful waves around her as she spun, embodying the very picture of sweet madness and beauty. A nymph, trapped in a lantern to never shine her light for the wood fairies ever again. It seemed too much of a shame that her spark wouldn't leave the asylum, where it could never be appreciated as it should be.

"It's turning autumn," she breathed, dropping her skirt to raise her hands above her head, like a novice ballerina. "Can't you smell it in the air? It's my favorite time of year. I'd always sneak out to go to the marshes for the bonfires back home. It's too bad we can't have one here. They'd probably never let a bunch of lunatics play with flame on the asylum grounds, huh?" 

Lottie laughed, shaking her head. "No, probably not, Marce. There are arsonists here. It'd set them off, I guess. But, I still think we should sneak out! Just us girls, one night. We could get into some fun mischief, I think. Especially if Esther comes!" 

Marcie rolled her eyes, sticking her tongue out as she ruffled Lottie's cropped hair. "Where exactly would we sneak? There's not a foot of space on the property that isn't watched by the hounds. It'd never work." 

Without meaning to, my eyes swung over toward the vegetable garden before sliding to the left, to the overgrown bush hiding the tiny hole in the chain link fence. Escape would be so easy, so simple. If we wanted, we could all gather together and make a run for it that very night. But, where would the seven of us go? I knew of no way to contact Robbie, and I really didn't even know what state we were in. Some of our families might take us in, but the chance of being double crossed by well meaning relatives who wouldn't believe our stories of the sinister staff and the thirteenth floor, which was just speculation more than anything, was too great. I couldn't be sure Lottie especially would be able to take the consequences of that. 

"Let's just enjoy the roses for a while," I suggested, far too tempted to let my friends know about how easily we could escape. Marcie was too volatile and unpredictable to burden her shoulders with such hope.

The two girls walked by my side as we strolled down the floral pathway. The rose garden glowed with an otherworldly aura after the sun set, casting everything in melancholy shades of navy and black instead of the lively pinks, reds, and whites of the daylight hours. I felt like Alice, tumbling down the rabbit hole into a land of unholy, twisted sights and smells. Yet, it was still beautiful, and I found myself thinking how much I preferred the nighttime scene as opposed to the daytime one.

Aw, how sweet. You're attracted to the darkness. How utterly cliche for such a woman as yourself.

"George's parents came to visit him today," Lottie spoke up suddenly, sounding unsure of her decision to divulge that information. I raised an eyebrow at her, curious.

"Isn't his father just awful?" Marcie blurted, cringing at the mention of him.

Lottie nodded. I stayed quiet, too cautious of spooking her loose lips into hiding by asking any more questions.

"He's not the reason George is here, but he sure didn't help matter any."

"Do you think he made him the way he is? The way he's so... odd?"

Lottie bristled at Marcie's words, placing her hands on her protruding hipbones. "He's not odd! He's the best friend I've ever had! And, like you have any room to talk about being odd!"

Marcie threw her hands up in surrender, eyes wide. "I didn't mean it like that! I just meant he doesn't act human. I'd probably be the same way with a dad like his, though. He doesn't scare you at all?"

Lottie's brown hair flew through the air as she shook her head, glaring at the older girl. "No. I'd never be scared of George. Why would I be? So what if he's not like the rest of us? We're in a mental asylum, Marcie! I'd say his differences are a good thing!"

I caught Marcie's eye with a discreet hand gesture and pulled my thumb and pointer finger across my lips in a clear gesture for her to zip it before Lottie lost her temper. We had enough to worry about as a ward. Inner turmoil would only hurt us and make us all weaker as a unit.

With a sigh, Marcie's shoulders drooped and she sent a gentle smile at the young woman fuming in front of her. "You're right. I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by it."

The three of us sat in a stalemate, watching each other for signs of aggression, before Lottie's stance deflated and she dropped onto the stone bench behind her.

"He's not a bad person. He just has prob-"

Her words halted in midair and she froze, staring at something behind Marcie and I. Gooseflesh rose on the back of my neck and my hair stood on end as a feeling of 'not right' washed over me. Sucking in a deep breath, I turned my head over my shoulder.

"Hello, ladies. Isn't it getting close to light's out?" Ernie asked, addressing all of us but keeping his rat-like, beady eyes focused on me. My body stiffened under his scrutiny and I grabbed Marcie's hand, taking two steps backward with her in tow. She stumbled over her feet, clinging to my arm. I felt Lottie's long, thin fingers wrap around my upper arm from behind me. The two women were looking toward me for protection. Somehow, in some way, through my attempts to help them, they saw me as their shield, and terror raced through my veins, because I had no idea how to protect them. What could I do against Ernie?

What was it you told John and Esther in a fit of false bravado, Sane? Something like, 'I'm a mass murderer. Who can hurt me?' Where's your courage and arrogance now?

Power... I could let Power out.

But could I deal with her aftermath?

I turned my head toward Lottie, keeping my eyes firmly on the corrupted orderly as he stood over me, daring me to run or fight.

"Go back inside. Get John or George or Ed. Whichever of them you find first. Run," I commanded, hoping my attempt to sound in charge and in control like Robbie worked. Her fingers slid from my arm and she took off, making Ernie sneer at me in a way that brought me back to days under Jensen and Sons. The same sneer I'd get from Gregory before he attacked. I knew the look all too well and my body tensed for it, ready to lunge back.

"Kate, what are you doing?" Marcie whispered, horror ringing in her voice. I flinched at the sudden sound I hadn't been expecting.

"Go with Lottie," I snapped, angry with myself for forgetting her presence. I couldn't let her witness this. Over six months had passed without anyone else learning of what I'd done, what a monster I could be. Now that we were friends, I couldn't let her see that.

She shook her head, hands tightening around my wrist. "No! I won't leave you here."

"How sweet," Ernie guffawed, his grin too large for his thin face. "You think she'd need you for help? Do you even know who she is?"

"Shut up!" I cried in a panic as the thought of my secrets being laid out so openly sured through me like a tidal wave. I threw my arms out to shove Ernie away from me, the force knocking him back a few steps. Fury snapped a raging fire in his face and he came back for me, knocking me to the ground and driving his fists into my face and torso. That almost forgotten, but still so familiar pain erupted beneath my skin as I tried to block the heavy blows. He let loose his rage on me, blow after blow raining down on my much smaller frame, each punch harder and more painful than the last. I'd been a fool to compare him with Gregory and the others. Their attacks were cold, calculated, and mocking. They wanted me to know they controlled me. This was in a different world from that. Ernie's attack was wild and untamed, like a berserker with no thought or rationality to his actions. Somehow, I'd found something even more terrifying than the years of abuse I'd been dealt in the circus, and it sent my mind reeling in pure alarm. 

Without hesitation, I crumbled the wall in my head that held Power captive, begging her to help me. My mental cries echoed against the walls of my skull, receiving no reply.

The realization hit me like a bucket of ice cold water and I felt the color leave my face as my stomach rolled. She'd left me!

She had left me alone to deal with this! Why?!

Hysteria, pure and primitive, overrode every shred of sense in my body and I began to fight back, like a wild caged animal. My fingernails met the rough, pocked flesh of his face, dragging down and pulling skin with it. My knees crashed against his spine as I bucked my hips, doing everything I could to save myself. Loud, shrill screams for help filled the air, resulting in a backhand to my face and his calloused hand covering my nose in mouth, blocking my airway.

Above him, Marcie shoved her weak attempts at punches into his ribs. When that failed to so much as phase him, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling back with all her might, trying to tug him from me. She yelled for help, her voice cracking and shaking, before he shoved her off him, sending her crashing to the ground and tumbling several feet away. Her footsteps then fell loudly against the concrete path, growing softer as she ran away, screaming and crying out for anyone to come save me.

Black spots danced in my vision as I struggled to breath. The pressure in my eyeballs felt as though they'd explode any minute, but I kept fighting, begging Power to come back to me.

I fought him back until the black edges around my vision closed in toward the center, threatening to take me from consciousness. I couldn't welcome death peacefully like I'd always thought I would, but the weaker my limbs got, feeling like lead flowed through my veins instead of blood, the more I realized how real the possibility was. Everything could stop there. No more plans of escape. No more days with John. No more friendly chats with Marcie, Lottie, and Esther. I'd be gone, leaving nothing behind but a trail of grisly bodies, nearly decapitated, but not quite.

I had long since quit calling for Power, recognizing her abandonment. She must not have needed me as much as I thought, and that sent the strangest sense of sadness and guilt traveling at breakneck speed down my spine.

Acceptance took over what little was left of my mental capacity, washing me over with a peaceful sense of finality, when the air around me poured, unrestricted, into my lungs again.

My eyes shot open while my lungs overcompensated for the minutes they'd been denied their nourishment. I coughed, gagging as my body's reflexes freaked out, trying to right itself. A loud, familiar sound pounded into my ears from my left, and I looked up through watering eyes to see what was happening.

My breath caught in my throat.

Bright, crimson blood flew through the air in sprays, splattering over my bruised and bleeding face as George's fists pummeled into Ernie's unmoving head. George's blows rained down on the unconscious man, tainting the air with sickening wet crunches and snaps. He hunched over him, back turned to me as he continued on with cold precision and merciless efficiency. How long had it taken him to put Ernie in such a state? Had I been struggling for my wits to return for so long that this had happened? Or had George taken the orderly out in one fell swoop before continuing the job without pause, effectively "double-tapping" and making sure he wouldn't be getting back up?

A particularly thick spray of blood splattered across my face, making me snap out of it and wipe furiously at my cheeks to get rid of the offending liquid, still warm from the veins it had coursed through only minutes before. George's fists kept up with their assault, and by the sheer volume of blood pooling like a black shadow around Ernie's unmoving body, I gathered he was long dead.

Dead... 

Clutching at the dirt and grass beneath my hands, I scrambled to my feet and ran to George, trying my hardest to not look at the spot his blows were marking. After the events of the past hour, my stomach would turn even quicker than normal, and the thought of shaming myself by vomiting in front of my rescuer was in no way appealing. 

I raced around the carnage to face the man still pummeling my dead attacker, wet, shining blood coating his hand and arms all the way up to his elbows as he landed blow after bone crushing blow. 

I'd only just faced him, reaching out a hand to grasp his attention when I heard it. Excited, joyous laughter slipped from between his wide smile. His eyes sparked with the untamed and overly eager enthusiasm of a man savoring every moment of his actions. Shock held me in place as one thought ran through my head, over and over.

Had Power jumped to him? Had she done what I thought impossible and infiltrated someone else's mind? Dread coursed up from my toes to my throat, making me light headed. 

You'd prefer that, wouldn't you? If I left you alone and bothered someone else? Sorry to disappoint, but he's just a run of the mill psychopath, no extra baggage necessary, Power spat, finally speaking up from the shadowed corner she'd hidden in for the entirety of the attack. 

Sweet, satiated relief. I'd never felt so thankful for her presence in my head before and a wave of comfort and wholeness surged through my panting chest. 

Thank God.

But why hadn't she helped me? Answered my frantic calls?

To prove a point, idiot. You're nothing without me. I am everything powerful in you, and without me you're just a sniveling child who can't take care of herself. You need me, and there's nothing you can do to change that.

George's white teeth shined from beneath his widely stretched lips, speckled with the scarlet blood of his victim. They glowed almost as bright as the excitement in his eyes.

It was the first time I'd ever seen any emotion in those hazel orbs.