Book of Asylum

Six

Before even opening my eyes, I knew where I was. Not simply because I've been here many times before in the past, but also because this room had some sort of feeling to it. Almost as if it was alive, living and breath around me, scarred by every horrible thing that happened here. I knew I wasn't the only patient that underwent treatment here. More often than not I could hear screaming coming from this room while awaiting my turn. That alone was traumatizing enough for a grown man to go insane - and many did indeed so.

Some part of me was proud of holding on for so long, especially when many others gave up so easily. It made me feel strong, and even special. I knew better now though, months and months later I had gathered enough knowledge and experience to understand only a fool's sanity would remain intact. I was no fool nor ignorant, or at least not anymore, and naturally the fear eventually even got to me. This room made me numb in a way that was no match for any other treatment I've gotten so far. Solitary confinement was a piece of cake compared to this, and even the hydro therapy -during which patients were basically left in an ice cold or steaming hot bath for days on end- wasn't all that bad. No, the zap room and Wright's office next door were beyond a child's scariest nightmare.

Like many times before, my arms and legs were tied to the iron table that stood in the middle of the room. The cold of the metal went straight through my thin clothes, and chilled me down all the way. I'm sure my hands would've shaken had they not been tied up this tightly. Actually, that's a lie. Even if I hadn't been tied to this table, I'm sure I still would've been unable to move.

It was the fear, the undeniable and unescapable fear, taking hold of every fiber of your being. Your whole system shuts down as it selfishly takes what it wants, not taking any notice of how you scream and beg for it to stop. No, it goes on and on and on, with only one way out. Some people, like me, can ignore it for a while, but you can still feel it drilling into the back of your head while it simply sits in a corner watching your every move and waits. It was a whole new aspect of torture, and maybe I was able to resist it for so long because I had felt pain before. Now though, my senses shut down one by one. I tried screaming, anything, but all I could do was keep taking breath after breath and watch it happen. The pain was excruciating, it kept scorching every inch of my being, and the moment I thought the worst was over, the pain tripled.

This was nothing, I kept telling myself. I've had worse, and besides, nothing even happened yet. Wright was nowhere be seen, and the room lacked any other form of life besides me and the rats that lived in between the walls of this asylum. All of this was happening inside of my head. I guess the difference was that now, I was finally truly alone with my thoughts. Before, even though I'd never admit it out loud -and certainly not to Sebastian-, I'd always had some hope at least. No matter how tiny of a spark it was, it was there, inside of me, because that's what hope does.

I realized that the time had come when I finally gave up, this was it, my final destination. All of it was in my head, but somehow it was real too. I was utterly, and completely alone, even though I had been alone before. Always, really. And yet, something had changed now.

"You won't be alone anymore."

Sebastian's words shot clean through me like a bullet, leaving enough damage to my vital organs to hurt like a bitch, but not enough to kill. I started to think that there were things much worse than death.

From the corner of my eyes I could see something white, elegantly seeping through the cracks of the door. It swirled and floated bluntly ignoring such earthly things like mass and gravity. What it was, I did not know, for it seemed neither gas nor liquid. Yet I knew for some reason that I should fear it. As the mysterious substance slowly filled the room, I began really feeling it's presence. My breath staggered and hurt, my vision clouded. Was it a poisonous gas of some sorts after al? I didn't know, I didn't want to know. The fear was clawing at every inch of my mind, tearing at it, leaving no stone unturned, no corner unsearched. It'd get me, it'd find me, and I really really did not want to know what would happen once it had taken over all of me.