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This is just an idea I thought up long ago while doodling in class and then I don't know...It involved into something I guess :3
I hope you guys like it OTL
Prologue:
Spoiler
Every story has a beginning. This one begins with a cliché.
It was a cold stormy night. The thunder crackled in the air, releasing shocks of blue over the silent sky for one tethering moment. The grass rustled as the wind flowed with a sudden ferocity. Two figures crossed the wet bridge, hands above their heads in pretense of protection from the rain.
“Rough night, eh?” One of them spoke, trying to establish some semblance of a conversation over the blowing wind.
“...It's...A perfect night for my experiments...”
“Huh?”
“Nothing. How long?”
The first figure laughed as they slowly waded their way through the bridge.
“Patience, doctor. One mustn't rush so.”
The second figure hunched down, seeming to pluck something from the concrete ground.
“Indeed.”
“Dropped something?” The first figure stopped, noticing the second's hunched form.
“It's nothing, my good man.” The Doctor stood and resumed walking. The first man matched his pace.
“Not much of a talker, are you?”
“In my profession, it's best if one...observes.”
“Hmm...makes sense. Ah! We're here.”
The two men stopped before a small house which had seen better days. The rusty gate welcomed them towards a winding path that lead towards the house which seemed to be deeply covered in moss.
The Doctor made a motion to speak but was silenced when the first figure waved his hand and started for the door.
“All in good time, doctor. It'll all become clear.”
The Doctor apprehensively followed the first figure into the seemingly abandoned house. White dry sheets covered the furniture, cobwebs and specks of dust caked the walls. The house had certainly seen better days.
“You'll like this part. Always surprises the newcomers.”
The first figure reached out towards the arm of a chair and grasped something. Before their eyes, the floor in front of them dissolved into a small staircase leading downwards. The Doctor appeared unfazed as if this was a natural occurrence.
“...Mere theatricality is but a tool of the uninitiated...”
“Huh?” The first figure stared confusedly at the Doctor who shook his head.
“...Such a simple soul. Then again, it might be the best for their protection.”
The first figure just shrugged and continued down towards the stairs. The Doctor followed at a slower pace, tentatively studying the intricate carvings on the dull walls. He stopped before one such large carving, running his bony fingers across the design.
“Vesta...”
“Yes, the roman goddess of home and sanctuary.”
“A home...A place to be safe and happy.”
The first figure laughed, grasping what the Doctor was insinuating.
“Ironic, isn't it? The owner of the prison had a weird sense of humor.”
“...Or he could be building a safe haven for the prisoners?”
There was silence as the Doctor and the first figure locked eyes before chuckling. They had both known the reputation of the fabled owner.
Malkovich Malone, owner of the first ever privately owned prison in the country, was not known for his generosity or kindness. It was rumored that the prison was a place that the owner had used to run his various experiments before his unfortunate death had led to the prison's control being taken over by the government.
The two figures finally reached the end of the staircase. A large iron-door greeted them with a solid-gold plaque of Sir Malone hanging overhead.
The first figure knocked on the door and the peephole was slowly swung aside.
“It's me, Jeffrey. I bring the Doctor.”
The peephole sprang shut again and a clicking noise indicated that the bolt was being unlocked. The iron door swung open a minute later and Jeffrey, a stout male with a rather large forehead appraised them.
“Helena has been waiting.” He spoke in a soft yet condescending voice that didn't belong on a man like him. The Doctor's eyes narrowed at the voice but didn't say anything as he was led inside.
The Doctor exhaled as the iron-door shut behind him, taking with it all semblance of fresh air. The first figure remained at the door. His nose twitching, the Doctor was led through rather winding corridors until they finally settled before another door. This one had a small carving of a wolf on it.
The entire door seemed to shake as Jeffrey put his burly hands on it and knocked sharply.
“...You may enter.”
A rough squeaky high-pitched voice croaked. The Doctor narrowed his eyes. A woman's voice.
“The Doctor, madam.” Jeffrey announced, leading the Doctor to a shabbily furnished room with dull gray walls. Ranging from the half-filled bookcase to the worn mahogany desk, it looked like the whole thing had been put together rather abruptly. Seated behind the old mahogany desk, a red-haired, sharp featured woman appraised the Doctor as he looked at the surroundings.
The Doctor finally placed his eyes on the woman. She would have been considered pretty while she was younger but age had seemed to taken it's toll on her, forcing her to dab in a healthy set of cosmetics. Dull brown baggy eyes stared back at him, watching his movement like a hawk.
“...Nice place, ma'am.” He said, after a brief pause. The woman didn't say anything, instead focusing her stare on Jeffrey.
“You may leave us now, Jeffrey.”
The bulky man nodded briefly, put his finger towards his head in a salute and closed the door behind him.
Silence prevailed in the room apart from the brief grating noise of the nearby surroundings. It wasn't until the Doctor made to speak that the woman silenced him with her hand.
“Before we begin, Doctor...I would just like to state that Dr. Richards was our premier choice for the role.” She said. Her voice seemingly bounced off the walls in the room as the Doctor matched her stare.
“...And I assure you, ma'am, that the government had considerable influence over my 'acceptance' of this job.” He shot back. She ignored it.
“Have you been briefed?” The Doctor shook his head.
“Troublesome.” The woman sighed. “A man of your...talents is expected to monitor our patients and pass them through a cursory check before the inevitable.”
“The inevitable?”
“With a capacity of fifty, our prison is constantly under motion.” She raised her voice a bit. “Although, we believe that their time here, however short it may be, helps them learn and adjust to the proper norms and rules of the society.” Her voice croaked a bit at the end, seemingly giving off her best statement for the media.
“You hold wacko's.” The Doctor stated simply. The woman stared back at him, stunned at the bluntness.
“Don't try to hide it. It's who they are. It's a...part of them. Nothing more. Nothing less.”
“I believe we shelter them from the harshness of the rest of the world.” She said, a frown on her face.
“Ah...Vesta...” The Doctor smiled knowingly. The woman's eyes narrowed.
“Whatever Mr. Malone's ideals had been for this prison, I can assure you, my prison is completely different. Desert Row- My prison, is a sanctuary for the...unstable. A place where they can be themselves and slowly start to adjust to what we consider normal behavior.”
“What does this 'check' entail?”
“Whether the patient in question is able to handle being in a rather...less controlling environment.”
The Doctor nodded, his role becoming clear to him. He was going to be placed in charge of deciding if the patient was mentally stable enough to leave the prison and be transferred to one which didn't cater to the insane.
“Insanity, ma'am...is a very complex thing. It can just go away or be locked up inside forever and one might never know what happened during the time it was given it's free run.”
“You say that like it can happen to everyone and they won't even know it.”
“It can...and it does.”
The woman nodded tiredly instead of responding, passing over a thick manila folder to the Doctor.
“This is your first assignment.”
The Doctor nodded, putting it away in his briefcase as he stood and offered his hand.
“I better get to work then, Warden.”
The woman grasped his hand and shook it a customary twice before letting go.
“...Ms. Xavia will show you the way to your office, Doctor.” She said, and at the moment a slender youth of remarkably dull dark hair yet bright blue eyes entered the office. Xavia seemed to be a young woman in her early twenties and was wearing a bright white top with a matching black skirt that went down to her knees.
“Right this way, Doctor.” Xavia said, her soft voice flowing through the silent room like the trill of a wind-chime.
“...By the way, Doctor, it's Deputy Warden. Deputy Warden Helena Banks.” The woman said before the Doctor closed the door to her office.
“Don't worry about her, she acts like she owns the place but she's harmless.” Xavia said, as she led the Doctor through a series of hallways.
“People like her bore me. Her tricks show her hand too easily.”
“Yes, she's not one of the initiated.” Xavia replied, leading the Doctor towards the end of one hallway. The Doctor smiled.
“Yes, I knew I remembered you from somewhere. You've been attending my lectures.”
“Is that the only reason you were staring so hard?” She asked playfully.
The Doctor's smile only widened as he was led into a small room. The room was aligned with an assortment of cabinets holding all kinds of trinkets. A rather moldy couch lined the wall, taking up most of the space in the room.
“This is your treatment room, Doctor.” Xavia said, waving her hand at the room.
“Ah, do I get my own room as well?” The Doctor asked.
“Of course. Prison policy dictates that thew staff be on hand at all times. Did you not get the memo?” Xavia stated in a crisp tone.
“I do not always conform to the norm.” The Doctor muttered. Xavia smirked.
“Well then you will fit in fine here.”
The Doctor sighed, throwing his briefcase over towards the bed. He looked around at the dull surroundings. The room was pretty much empty except for a desk tucked at one corner of the room and the bed on the other corner. The sheets were a grayish shade of white and cleanly folded. There was no sign of the previous owner.
Everyone leaves a sign. If they don't, something is wrong.
The Doctor leaned over and examined a slight mark on the wall.
“...A smoker...” He shook his head. That didn't mean anything. Anyone could have smoked in here and caused that mark. It did not mean the previous owner of this room was a smoker.
A cough diverted his attention from the wall. He looked up to see Helena Banks standing in the doorway.
“What are you doing?” She asked.
“Dropped something.” The Doctor replied, not turning away from examining the wall closely. Helena raised her eyebrows.
“At the wall?” The Doctor shrugged.
“And to what do I owe this pleasure, ma'am?”
“I just came to make sure that Xavia left you in...one piece.” Helena said, hesitatingly.
“She can be a bit...upfront yes.”
“Indeed? I'll tell Xavia to control her tendencies.”
“Ah, no need.” The Doctor shook his head, smiling at Helena. “My interests lie... in another direction, I'm afraid.”
Helena blinked, stopping herself from saying something and settled for staring at the Doctor.
“I presume my work starts tomorrow.”
“Yes, I'll have him sent over first thing in the morning.”
The Doctor nodded and turned back to examining his bare desk, needing no further explanation.
Some time passed in silence and it was only when the Doctor looked back up to the doorway he saw that Helena had disappeared.
“Quite a colorful Deputy Warden...I wonder how the Warden is...”
It was a cold stormy night. The thunder crackled in the air, releasing shocks of blue over the silent sky for one tethering moment. The grass rustled as the wind flowed with a sudden ferocity. Two figures crossed the wet bridge, hands above their heads in pretense of protection from the rain.
“Rough night, eh?” One of them spoke, trying to establish some semblance of a conversation over the blowing wind.
“...It's...A perfect night for my experiments...”
“Huh?”
“Nothing. How long?”
The first figure laughed as they slowly waded their way through the bridge.
“Patience, doctor. One mustn't rush so.”
The second figure hunched down, seeming to pluck something from the concrete ground.
“Indeed.”
“Dropped something?” The first figure stopped, noticing the second's hunched form.
“It's nothing, my good man.” The Doctor stood and resumed walking. The first man matched his pace.
“Not much of a talker, are you?”
“In my profession, it's best if one...observes.”
“Hmm...makes sense. Ah! We're here.”
The two men stopped before a small house which had seen better days. The rusty gate welcomed them towards a winding path that lead towards the house which seemed to be deeply covered in moss.
The Doctor made a motion to speak but was silenced when the first figure waved his hand and started for the door.
“All in good time, doctor. It'll all become clear.”
The Doctor apprehensively followed the first figure into the seemingly abandoned house. White dry sheets covered the furniture, cobwebs and specks of dust caked the walls. The house had certainly seen better days.
“You'll like this part. Always surprises the newcomers.”
The first figure reached out towards the arm of a chair and grasped something. Before their eyes, the floor in front of them dissolved into a small staircase leading downwards. The Doctor appeared unfazed as if this was a natural occurrence.
“...Mere theatricality is but a tool of the uninitiated...”
“Huh?” The first figure stared confusedly at the Doctor who shook his head.
“...Such a simple soul. Then again, it might be the best for their protection.”
The first figure just shrugged and continued down towards the stairs. The Doctor followed at a slower pace, tentatively studying the intricate carvings on the dull walls. He stopped before one such large carving, running his bony fingers across the design.
“Vesta...”
“Yes, the roman goddess of home and sanctuary.”
“A home...A place to be safe and happy.”
The first figure laughed, grasping what the Doctor was insinuating.
“Ironic, isn't it? The owner of the prison had a weird sense of humor.”
“...Or he could be building a safe haven for the prisoners?”
There was silence as the Doctor and the first figure locked eyes before chuckling. They had both known the reputation of the fabled owner.
Malkovich Malone, owner of the first ever privately owned prison in the country, was not known for his generosity or kindness. It was rumored that the prison was a place that the owner had used to run his various experiments before his unfortunate death had led to the prison's control being taken over by the government.
The two figures finally reached the end of the staircase. A large iron-door greeted them with a solid-gold plaque of Sir Malone hanging overhead.
The first figure knocked on the door and the peephole was slowly swung aside.
“It's me, Jeffrey. I bring the Doctor.”
The peephole sprang shut again and a clicking noise indicated that the bolt was being unlocked. The iron door swung open a minute later and Jeffrey, a stout male with a rather large forehead appraised them.
“Helena has been waiting.” He spoke in a soft yet condescending voice that didn't belong on a man like him. The Doctor's eyes narrowed at the voice but didn't say anything as he was led inside.
The Doctor exhaled as the iron-door shut behind him, taking with it all semblance of fresh air. The first figure remained at the door. His nose twitching, the Doctor was led through rather winding corridors until they finally settled before another door. This one had a small carving of a wolf on it.
The entire door seemed to shake as Jeffrey put his burly hands on it and knocked sharply.
“...You may enter.”
A rough squeaky high-pitched voice croaked. The Doctor narrowed his eyes. A woman's voice.
“The Doctor, madam.” Jeffrey announced, leading the Doctor to a shabbily furnished room with dull gray walls. Ranging from the half-filled bookcase to the worn mahogany desk, it looked like the whole thing had been put together rather abruptly. Seated behind the old mahogany desk, a red-haired, sharp featured woman appraised the Doctor as he looked at the surroundings.
The Doctor finally placed his eyes on the woman. She would have been considered pretty while she was younger but age had seemed to taken it's toll on her, forcing her to dab in a healthy set of cosmetics. Dull brown baggy eyes stared back at him, watching his movement like a hawk.
“...Nice place, ma'am.” He said, after a brief pause. The woman didn't say anything, instead focusing her stare on Jeffrey.
“You may leave us now, Jeffrey.”
The bulky man nodded briefly, put his finger towards his head in a salute and closed the door behind him.
Silence prevailed in the room apart from the brief grating noise of the nearby surroundings. It wasn't until the Doctor made to speak that the woman silenced him with her hand.
“Before we begin, Doctor...I would just like to state that Dr. Richards was our premier choice for the role.” She said. Her voice seemingly bounced off the walls in the room as the Doctor matched her stare.
“...And I assure you, ma'am, that the government had considerable influence over my 'acceptance' of this job.” He shot back. She ignored it.
“Have you been briefed?” The Doctor shook his head.
“Troublesome.” The woman sighed. “A man of your...talents is expected to monitor our patients and pass them through a cursory check before the inevitable.”
“The inevitable?”
“With a capacity of fifty, our prison is constantly under motion.” She raised her voice a bit. “Although, we believe that their time here, however short it may be, helps them learn and adjust to the proper norms and rules of the society.” Her voice croaked a bit at the end, seemingly giving off her best statement for the media.
“You hold wacko's.” The Doctor stated simply. The woman stared back at him, stunned at the bluntness.
“Don't try to hide it. It's who they are. It's a...part of them. Nothing more. Nothing less.”
“I believe we shelter them from the harshness of the rest of the world.” She said, a frown on her face.
“Ah...Vesta...” The Doctor smiled knowingly. The woman's eyes narrowed.
“Whatever Mr. Malone's ideals had been for this prison, I can assure you, my prison is completely different. Desert Row- My prison, is a sanctuary for the...unstable. A place where they can be themselves and slowly start to adjust to what we consider normal behavior.”
“What does this 'check' entail?”
“Whether the patient in question is able to handle being in a rather...less controlling environment.”
The Doctor nodded, his role becoming clear to him. He was going to be placed in charge of deciding if the patient was mentally stable enough to leave the prison and be transferred to one which didn't cater to the insane.
“Insanity, ma'am...is a very complex thing. It can just go away or be locked up inside forever and one might never know what happened during the time it was given it's free run.”
“You say that like it can happen to everyone and they won't even know it.”
“It can...and it does.”
The woman nodded tiredly instead of responding, passing over a thick manila folder to the Doctor.
“This is your first assignment.”
The Doctor nodded, putting it away in his briefcase as he stood and offered his hand.
“I better get to work then, Warden.”
The woman grasped his hand and shook it a customary twice before letting go.
“...Ms. Xavia will show you the way to your office, Doctor.” She said, and at the moment a slender youth of remarkably dull dark hair yet bright blue eyes entered the office. Xavia seemed to be a young woman in her early twenties and was wearing a bright white top with a matching black skirt that went down to her knees.
“Right this way, Doctor.” Xavia said, her soft voice flowing through the silent room like the trill of a wind-chime.
“...By the way, Doctor, it's Deputy Warden. Deputy Warden Helena Banks.” The woman said before the Doctor closed the door to her office.
“Don't worry about her, she acts like she owns the place but she's harmless.” Xavia said, as she led the Doctor through a series of hallways.
“People like her bore me. Her tricks show her hand too easily.”
“Yes, she's not one of the initiated.” Xavia replied, leading the Doctor towards the end of one hallway. The Doctor smiled.
“Yes, I knew I remembered you from somewhere. You've been attending my lectures.”
“Is that the only reason you were staring so hard?” She asked playfully.
The Doctor's smile only widened as he was led into a small room. The room was aligned with an assortment of cabinets holding all kinds of trinkets. A rather moldy couch lined the wall, taking up most of the space in the room.
“This is your treatment room, Doctor.” Xavia said, waving her hand at the room.
“Ah, do I get my own room as well?” The Doctor asked.
“Of course. Prison policy dictates that thew staff be on hand at all times. Did you not get the memo?” Xavia stated in a crisp tone.
“I do not always conform to the norm.” The Doctor muttered. Xavia smirked.
“Well then you will fit in fine here.”
The Doctor sighed, throwing his briefcase over towards the bed. He looked around at the dull surroundings. The room was pretty much empty except for a desk tucked at one corner of the room and the bed on the other corner. The sheets were a grayish shade of white and cleanly folded. There was no sign of the previous owner.
Everyone leaves a sign. If they don't, something is wrong.
The Doctor leaned over and examined a slight mark on the wall.
“...A smoker...” He shook his head. That didn't mean anything. Anyone could have smoked in here and caused that mark. It did not mean the previous owner of this room was a smoker.
A cough diverted his attention from the wall. He looked up to see Helena Banks standing in the doorway.
“What are you doing?” She asked.
“Dropped something.” The Doctor replied, not turning away from examining the wall closely. Helena raised her eyebrows.
“At the wall?” The Doctor shrugged.
“And to what do I owe this pleasure, ma'am?”
“I just came to make sure that Xavia left you in...one piece.” Helena said, hesitatingly.
“She can be a bit...upfront yes.”
“Indeed? I'll tell Xavia to control her tendencies.”
“Ah, no need.” The Doctor shook his head, smiling at Helena. “My interests lie... in another direction, I'm afraid.”
Helena blinked, stopping herself from saying something and settled for staring at the Doctor.
“I presume my work starts tomorrow.”
“Yes, I'll have him sent over first thing in the morning.”
The Doctor nodded and turned back to examining his bare desk, needing no further explanation.
Some time passed in silence and it was only when the Doctor looked back up to the doorway he saw that Helena had disappeared.
“Quite a colorful Deputy Warden...I wonder how the Warden is...”
Chapter One:
Spoiler
The Doctor waited, holding in his breath before toppling the bucket of cold water over his head. The chilly wind didn't really help. He looked up in the mirror, frowning at the stubble as he did. Perhaps it was time for a shave.
A bell rang somewhere nearby, making him shrug and give it up for the day as he got dressed. Awaiting him outside the bathroom was a tall skinny person. The Doctor stopped to stare. Although the person had an appearance of a rogue, there was a certain unique characteristic to him.
“You have...breasts.” The Doctor said, matter-of-factly. “Large...breasts...”
The 'man' chuckled, his face splitting into a wide smile.
“How very observant, Doctor.” 'He' extended his hand forward. The Doctor grasped it and shook it twice.
“Harvey. Harvey Briggs. Head prison guard.”
“Ah.” The Doctor said politely, nodding his head.
“Come, doctor. Your patient awaits.”
“Starting early in the morning, are we?”
“Ms. Banks doesn't like night crawlers. She prefers the daylight.”
“Why am I not surprised.”
Harvey gave a polite smile and led him through a series of hallways. The Doctor examined them all as they passed, taking careful note. He remembered a certain hallway that lead to Helena's office and one other that lead to his own.
“It would be quite...convenient if I could have a layout of this place.”
Harvey smiled.
“Sorry, doc. Prison policy dictates that nobody can hold any such...convenient map. Not even the staff. I hope you understand. Just standard safety.”
“Indeed. Then I shall just have to rely upon memory.”
“It'll become natural after a while. After all...you'll be here for a long time...”
The conversation died after that point until Harvey stopped before a cell.
“You'll like this one. They gave you an easy first case.”
“Ah yes...Prisoner No. 7777. I've read his file. He seems...boring.”
“Yes, he's a pretty quiet prisoner. Maintains discipline and never raises a fuss. That's why he has a cell all to himself. Rarely ever speaks. Just don't mention his name though. The poor fool hates his own name. But I guess they all have their quirks.”
“Open No. 15.” Harvey barked, drawing attention of the other prisoners. There was a loud chorus and general murmur as the cell door clanged open a moment later.
“Oi! They got another one! Did you see? Did you see?”
“How long you reckon this one will last?”
“Hahahaha, who knows?”
“He looks weak and kinda pathetic.”
“Just like the previous one.”
The Doctor waited for the snigger's to die down. He looked into the cell. It was almost completely empty save for a single occupied bed. There were no personal effects. Not even a toothbrush. He approached the bed, ignoring the somewhat surprised prisoner as he examined the blanket the prisoner had over him.
“Careful, doc. Don't want to get too close. Although this one's pretty harmless.” Harvey said, with a smile. The Doctor merely smiled back at him, in front of the prisoner.
“My job is to observe, Mr. Briggs. That is what I'm doing.” He glanced around the cell one more time, clasping his hands together when he was done.
“Ah, you'll do nicely. Come along now.”
The prisoner looked up confusedly and then turned to Harvey who nodded his head. The cell door closed behind them as the trio approached the Doctor's office. Harvey ushered them inside and then stood outside the door.
“I'll be here.”
“I feel honored to have the Head guard stand by the door.” The Doctor said, smiling. Harvey smiled back.
“...However, we wouldn't be requiring your services.” He slammed the door shut on Harvey's face.
The Doctor returned to his patient. He appeared calm and composed, leaning back carefully on the bed, his dull blue eyes vacant and detached. His long dark hair dangled to the side of the bed, a rather tight fit for a tall man like him.
“Excuse me, my good man.” The Doctor leaned in and took a small whiff of the man's neck, leaning back to his chair.
“So how did it happen?”
The patient didn't respond, settling for staring at the ceiling. The eyes were completely unresponsive.
“I do not like being ignored when I'm asking my questions, No. 7777” The Doctor said, leaning in closer as he settled for whispering in the prisoner's ears. The prisoner twitched.
“That is who you are, aren't you? Just a number. A worthless piece of data in a system on the brink of collapse.”
“...You talk a lot for a doctor...”
“Rest assured. I do my part. It's time for you to step up.”
“...And if I don't?”
“Then by all means...stay here and suffer.”
“You don't want to hear my story, doc.”
“I already know your story...Clarence.”
The mention of the name sparkled the eyes to life with a sudden ferocity. It was as if electricity was coursing through the man's veins as he stood up abruptly, having been so completely still just a minute before.
The man instantly reached for the Doctor's throat, grabbing it tightly. The Doctor stared back at him, as if he wasn't currently being grappled.
“Everything alright in here?”
Harvey's face poked in at that moment, gapping at the scene before him. The prisoner had never assaulted a member of the staff like this before.
“Oi! No.7777! Release the doctor!” He made to move towards them but was stopped by the doctor's raised hand.
“It's okay, Mr. Briggs.” The Doctor waved his hand and pointed towards the door. “Close the door after you...”
“B-But-”
The Doctor hissed.
“I'm in the middle of my...observations. I do not like being disturbed when I work. Get out.”
The Doctor turned back to Prisoner 7777 whose hand was still tightly wound around his neck. He smiled and matched the prisoner's almost feral gaze.
“Clarence Kentworthy. I know your story. It doesn't interest me in the least. What I want to know...is you.”
He leaned forward and licked his lips. The prisoner leaned back a bit. The curious stare in the Doctor's sparkling eyes unnerved him.
“How is it that a disciplined pin and proper old cop lands up here in an asyl- A 'sanctuary' for the insane if you will.”
“You said you know the story.”
“...Indeed. But what I wish to know is what broke you.” The Doctor smiled politely. Clarence stared at him in confusion.
“Broke me?”
“Yes.”
“...I do not understand.” The Doctor's happy expression faltered for a bit.
“What changed in you.”
“Isn't that obvious? It's all there in that stupid file!”
“This?” The Doctor held out the file. Clarence nodded and was surprised when the doctor ripped the file in two in front of him.
“This bores me.” He said. “This file tells me nothing I wish to know. Only unnecessary things.”
“Tell me, what do you expect me to do if I find out in the file that you haven't brushed your teeth in years which has caused immense deterioration of your gums.” The Doctor shook his head. “I'm not your mama, silly boy. I can't force you to brush your teeth.” He leaned forward.
“What I need...What I want...” The Doctor broke off.
“It must have hurt a lot to realize your wife of ten years was cheating on you. Especially with that fucker you called your best friend and partner.”
“...Don't...Don't say his name...”
“Ah... the catalyst. Larry wasn't it?” The Doctor smiled as Clarence growled, trembling from head to foot.
“Such extreme hate. Is that what did it?”
“Did what?”
“You know...'it'...the exhilarating feeling that you get when you claim someone's life. When you realize you hold that kind of power over someone. Did your hate control you? Did your hate guide you to drug them unconscious and slowly slit their heads one by one as you delicately suckled on their blood, freshly sliced through that pale flesh of skin. The blood trickling down onto the pink mattress as you did so while they lay stark naked on the bed, entwined to one other, the evidence of their shame and guilt. Kinda symbolic wasn't it?”
The Doctor leaned forward. His eyes wild.
“Kinda...fun...wasn't it?”
“Shut up!” Clarence stood up abruptly and banged on the door which Harvey opened in surprise.
“I want to go back to my cell.”
“Our business isn't concluded, Clarence.”
“I'm done!”
“Mr. Briggs. You may close the door after you.”
“This is not r-” The prisoner dropped to the floor as the Doctor jabbed a certain syringe down the side of Clarence's neck. He smiled, putting his finger on his lips as he matched Harvey's astonished stare. The Doctor then proceeded to drag a now helpless Clarence back onto the bed.
Harvey stared a minute or two at them until the Doctor pointedly looked his way and made him close the door.
“Tell me, Clarence...Didn't the blood taste good? Raw? Fresh?”
“S-Stop...they made me do it!!”
“What? You are going to hide behind them? It was nobody's fault you were a two bit failure as a cop, my dear man. Everybody knew your wife was cheating on you, didn't they? Everybody knew about your failure.”
“N-No...it's not true!!! S-Shut up!! Stop it!”
The Doctor leaned in close and smiled, showing all of his teeth to Clarence.
“Did you not enjoy it? Embrace your feelings already, Kentworthy. It's been too long to run away.”
“N-No...I didn't enjoy it. I hated it. I didn't wa-...I didn't want to do it.”
“Really? Then why haven't you brushed your mouth since drinking their blood?”
Clarence shivered pathetically, moaning on the floor as he did so, his mouth moving rapidly. The Doctor narrowed his eyes for a brief moment at this change.
“T-T-The voices...They made me do it. T-They...control me.”
“Voices? Tell me about them. What are they telling you now?”
“To get out. To get out of this room. To get away from you.”
“Well, I've already seen to that, haven't I?” The Doctor's smile widened but then his expression turned serious.
“Tell me, Clarence. Do the voices guide you?”
“...Sometimes...”
“Did they guide you when you saw your wife and Lar-”
“Don't say the name!! The voices...They hate it!” Clarence croaked weakly.
“And they also despise your own name. That's why you became a number, didn't you? They told you to get away from it all, didn't they?”
“...Yes...”
“Tell me, Clar- No. 7777, when did you start hearing them?”
“When I saw him with her...”
“You knew they were sleeping together?”
“Of course I knew. I wasn't blind. That whore was sleeping around.”
“They told me to wait...To follow him one day from our place at work. Then get them in the act. I had worked so hard for her. I had been saving up...We were gonna buy this house by the hillside. Start a family. I left everything for her. My friends. My hobbies. Everything just so I could support her.”
“Did the...voices...also suggest you drink their blood as you performed your rightful revenge?”
“...Yes. But I wanted to do that. I wanted to...toast to myself as the life disappeared from their eyes.” Clarence's expression turned manic. “I wanted it...I wanted it...”
“Yes...you wanted it all.”
The Doctor stood up, almost at the door. Clarence was still staring at the ceiling, shivering as he did so. Although now a small smile marked his face which had earlier been grim.
“Just one last thing, No. 7777.” Clarence turned towards the Doctor, displaying his yellow mangled teeth.
“Why do they hate your name?”
“They tell me if I become a number. I'll be safe...”
“Safe?”
“Yes...safe...from her...”
“Her?”
“Yes...her...The one who's always...watching...every movement...staring...from the shadows...Always...there.”
“Right.” The Doctor nodded and closed the door behind him, turning to Harvey.
“Ah, doc. The session finally over?”
“Indeed.”
Harvey smiled, handing over a small slip.
“No. 7777 finally ready to return to the normal world? He's really harmless unless you mention his name. Is that what you did to make him grab you like that? Just doesn't really talk much.”
“Not at all. He told me...everything.” The Doctor said, ticking a small box in the slip and handing it back to Harvey who was surprised at the verdict.
“D-Denied? Are you sure?”
“Yes. Prisoner No. 7777 suffers from Bipolar disorder. Extreme mood swings whose side effects include hearing voices, paranoia, visual hallucinations and the false belief of a special identity...who always seems to be watching him in this case. The hallucinations and this 'identity' are the most probable cause of his detachment from this world.”
“....Buried underneath this quiet exterior is a very unstable man whose world has long since crumbled before his eyes. He's not alright.”
The Doctor patted Harvey's shoulder before walking away.
“What a thin line there is between the stable and unstable. One little moment can shatter all illusions of a stable arrangement. Then again...Nothing is really stable until it's... dead.”
The Doctor waited, holding in his breath before toppling the bucket of cold water over his head. The chilly wind didn't really help. He looked up in the mirror, frowning at the stubble as he did. Perhaps it was time for a shave.
A bell rang somewhere nearby, making him shrug and give it up for the day as he got dressed. Awaiting him outside the bathroom was a tall skinny person. The Doctor stopped to stare. Although the person had an appearance of a rogue, there was a certain unique characteristic to him.
“You have...breasts.” The Doctor said, matter-of-factly. “Large...breasts...”
The 'man' chuckled, his face splitting into a wide smile.
“How very observant, Doctor.” 'He' extended his hand forward. The Doctor grasped it and shook it twice.
“Harvey. Harvey Briggs. Head prison guard.”
“Ah.” The Doctor said politely, nodding his head.
“Come, doctor. Your patient awaits.”
“Starting early in the morning, are we?”
“Ms. Banks doesn't like night crawlers. She prefers the daylight.”
“Why am I not surprised.”
Harvey gave a polite smile and led him through a series of hallways. The Doctor examined them all as they passed, taking careful note. He remembered a certain hallway that lead to Helena's office and one other that lead to his own.
“It would be quite...convenient if I could have a layout of this place.”
Harvey smiled.
“Sorry, doc. Prison policy dictates that nobody can hold any such...convenient map. Not even the staff. I hope you understand. Just standard safety.”
“Indeed. Then I shall just have to rely upon memory.”
“It'll become natural after a while. After all...you'll be here for a long time...”
The conversation died after that point until Harvey stopped before a cell.
“You'll like this one. They gave you an easy first case.”
“Ah yes...Prisoner No. 7777. I've read his file. He seems...boring.”
“Yes, he's a pretty quiet prisoner. Maintains discipline and never raises a fuss. That's why he has a cell all to himself. Rarely ever speaks. Just don't mention his name though. The poor fool hates his own name. But I guess they all have their quirks.”
“Open No. 15.” Harvey barked, drawing attention of the other prisoners. There was a loud chorus and general murmur as the cell door clanged open a moment later.
“Oi! They got another one! Did you see? Did you see?”
“How long you reckon this one will last?”
“Hahahaha, who knows?”
“He looks weak and kinda pathetic.”
“Just like the previous one.”
The Doctor waited for the snigger's to die down. He looked into the cell. It was almost completely empty save for a single occupied bed. There were no personal effects. Not even a toothbrush. He approached the bed, ignoring the somewhat surprised prisoner as he examined the blanket the prisoner had over him.
“Careful, doc. Don't want to get too close. Although this one's pretty harmless.” Harvey said, with a smile. The Doctor merely smiled back at him, in front of the prisoner.
“My job is to observe, Mr. Briggs. That is what I'm doing.” He glanced around the cell one more time, clasping his hands together when he was done.
“Ah, you'll do nicely. Come along now.”
The prisoner looked up confusedly and then turned to Harvey who nodded his head. The cell door closed behind them as the trio approached the Doctor's office. Harvey ushered them inside and then stood outside the door.
“I'll be here.”
“I feel honored to have the Head guard stand by the door.” The Doctor said, smiling. Harvey smiled back.
“...However, we wouldn't be requiring your services.” He slammed the door shut on Harvey's face.
The Doctor returned to his patient. He appeared calm and composed, leaning back carefully on the bed, his dull blue eyes vacant and detached. His long dark hair dangled to the side of the bed, a rather tight fit for a tall man like him.
“Excuse me, my good man.” The Doctor leaned in and took a small whiff of the man's neck, leaning back to his chair.
“So how did it happen?”
The patient didn't respond, settling for staring at the ceiling. The eyes were completely unresponsive.
“I do not like being ignored when I'm asking my questions, No. 7777” The Doctor said, leaning in closer as he settled for whispering in the prisoner's ears. The prisoner twitched.
“That is who you are, aren't you? Just a number. A worthless piece of data in a system on the brink of collapse.”
“...You talk a lot for a doctor...”
“Rest assured. I do my part. It's time for you to step up.”
“...And if I don't?”
“Then by all means...stay here and suffer.”
“You don't want to hear my story, doc.”
“I already know your story...Clarence.”
The mention of the name sparkled the eyes to life with a sudden ferocity. It was as if electricity was coursing through the man's veins as he stood up abruptly, having been so completely still just a minute before.
The man instantly reached for the Doctor's throat, grabbing it tightly. The Doctor stared back at him, as if he wasn't currently being grappled.
“Everything alright in here?”
Harvey's face poked in at that moment, gapping at the scene before him. The prisoner had never assaulted a member of the staff like this before.
“Oi! No.7777! Release the doctor!” He made to move towards them but was stopped by the doctor's raised hand.
“It's okay, Mr. Briggs.” The Doctor waved his hand and pointed towards the door. “Close the door after you...”
“B-But-”
The Doctor hissed.
“I'm in the middle of my...observations. I do not like being disturbed when I work. Get out.”
The Doctor turned back to Prisoner 7777 whose hand was still tightly wound around his neck. He smiled and matched the prisoner's almost feral gaze.
“Clarence Kentworthy. I know your story. It doesn't interest me in the least. What I want to know...is you.”
He leaned forward and licked his lips. The prisoner leaned back a bit. The curious stare in the Doctor's sparkling eyes unnerved him.
“How is it that a disciplined pin and proper old cop lands up here in an asyl- A 'sanctuary' for the insane if you will.”
“You said you know the story.”
“...Indeed. But what I wish to know is what broke you.” The Doctor smiled politely. Clarence stared at him in confusion.
“Broke me?”
“Yes.”
“...I do not understand.” The Doctor's happy expression faltered for a bit.
“What changed in you.”
“Isn't that obvious? It's all there in that stupid file!”
“This?” The Doctor held out the file. Clarence nodded and was surprised when the doctor ripped the file in two in front of him.
“This bores me.” He said. “This file tells me nothing I wish to know. Only unnecessary things.”
“Tell me, what do you expect me to do if I find out in the file that you haven't brushed your teeth in years which has caused immense deterioration of your gums.” The Doctor shook his head. “I'm not your mama, silly boy. I can't force you to brush your teeth.” He leaned forward.
“What I need...What I want...” The Doctor broke off.
“It must have hurt a lot to realize your wife of ten years was cheating on you. Especially with that fucker you called your best friend and partner.”
“...Don't...Don't say his name...”
“Ah... the catalyst. Larry wasn't it?” The Doctor smiled as Clarence growled, trembling from head to foot.
“Such extreme hate. Is that what did it?”
“Did what?”
“You know...'it'...the exhilarating feeling that you get when you claim someone's life. When you realize you hold that kind of power over someone. Did your hate control you? Did your hate guide you to drug them unconscious and slowly slit their heads one by one as you delicately suckled on their blood, freshly sliced through that pale flesh of skin. The blood trickling down onto the pink mattress as you did so while they lay stark naked on the bed, entwined to one other, the evidence of their shame and guilt. Kinda symbolic wasn't it?”
The Doctor leaned forward. His eyes wild.
“Kinda...fun...wasn't it?”
“Shut up!” Clarence stood up abruptly and banged on the door which Harvey opened in surprise.
“I want to go back to my cell.”
“Our business isn't concluded, Clarence.”
“I'm done!”
“Mr. Briggs. You may close the door after you.”
“This is not r-” The prisoner dropped to the floor as the Doctor jabbed a certain syringe down the side of Clarence's neck. He smiled, putting his finger on his lips as he matched Harvey's astonished stare. The Doctor then proceeded to drag a now helpless Clarence back onto the bed.
Harvey stared a minute or two at them until the Doctor pointedly looked his way and made him close the door.
“Tell me, Clarence...Didn't the blood taste good? Raw? Fresh?”
“S-Stop...they made me do it!!”
“What? You are going to hide behind them? It was nobody's fault you were a two bit failure as a cop, my dear man. Everybody knew your wife was cheating on you, didn't they? Everybody knew about your failure.”
“N-No...it's not true!!! S-Shut up!! Stop it!”
The Doctor leaned in close and smiled, showing all of his teeth to Clarence.
“Did you not enjoy it? Embrace your feelings already, Kentworthy. It's been too long to run away.”
“N-No...I didn't enjoy it. I hated it. I didn't wa-...I didn't want to do it.”
“Really? Then why haven't you brushed your mouth since drinking their blood?”
Clarence shivered pathetically, moaning on the floor as he did so, his mouth moving rapidly. The Doctor narrowed his eyes for a brief moment at this change.
“T-T-The voices...They made me do it. T-They...control me.”
“Voices? Tell me about them. What are they telling you now?”
“To get out. To get out of this room. To get away from you.”
“Well, I've already seen to that, haven't I?” The Doctor's smile widened but then his expression turned serious.
“Tell me, Clarence. Do the voices guide you?”
“...Sometimes...”
“Did they guide you when you saw your wife and Lar-”
“Don't say the name!! The voices...They hate it!” Clarence croaked weakly.
“And they also despise your own name. That's why you became a number, didn't you? They told you to get away from it all, didn't they?”
“...Yes...”
“Tell me, Clar- No. 7777, when did you start hearing them?”
“When I saw him with her...”
“You knew they were sleeping together?”
“Of course I knew. I wasn't blind. That whore was sleeping around.”
“They told me to wait...To follow him one day from our place at work. Then get them in the act. I had worked so hard for her. I had been saving up...We were gonna buy this house by the hillside. Start a family. I left everything for her. My friends. My hobbies. Everything just so I could support her.”
“Did the...voices...also suggest you drink their blood as you performed your rightful revenge?”
“...Yes. But I wanted to do that. I wanted to...toast to myself as the life disappeared from their eyes.” Clarence's expression turned manic. “I wanted it...I wanted it...”
“Yes...you wanted it all.”
The Doctor stood up, almost at the door. Clarence was still staring at the ceiling, shivering as he did so. Although now a small smile marked his face which had earlier been grim.
“Just one last thing, No. 7777.” Clarence turned towards the Doctor, displaying his yellow mangled teeth.
“Why do they hate your name?”
“They tell me if I become a number. I'll be safe...”
“Safe?”
“Yes...safe...from her...”
“Her?”
“Yes...her...The one who's always...watching...every movement...staring...from the shadows...Always...there.”
“Right.” The Doctor nodded and closed the door behind him, turning to Harvey.
“Ah, doc. The session finally over?”
“Indeed.”
Harvey smiled, handing over a small slip.
“No. 7777 finally ready to return to the normal world? He's really harmless unless you mention his name. Is that what you did to make him grab you like that? Just doesn't really talk much.”
“Not at all. He told me...everything.” The Doctor said, ticking a small box in the slip and handing it back to Harvey who was surprised at the verdict.
“D-Denied? Are you sure?”
“Yes. Prisoner No. 7777 suffers from Bipolar disorder. Extreme mood swings whose side effects include hearing voices, paranoia, visual hallucinations and the false belief of a special identity...who always seems to be watching him in this case. The hallucinations and this 'identity' are the most probable cause of his detachment from this world.”
“....Buried underneath this quiet exterior is a very unstable man whose world has long since crumbled before his eyes. He's not alright.”
The Doctor patted Harvey's shoulder before walking away.
“What a thin line there is between the stable and unstable. One little moment can shatter all illusions of a stable arrangement. Then again...Nothing is really stable until it's... dead.”
Chapter Two:
Spoiler
The Slicer: Part One
“I know your dreams...”
“...I know your purpose...”
“I know you. I know your story. I know your weakness. I know everything...”
The Doctor's eyes burst open in shock. He looked around in a daze, his breath falling hard in the dead silent room. He glanced down at his chest only to find it drenched in sweat as he attempted to ease his breathing.
That voice. He knew the voice very well. He had heard it quite long ago. It belonged to a figure from his past. A past he had left behind long ago.
I know...everything...
Instantly, he looked around the room he already knew quite well was empty.
He stood up abruptly, trying to calm himself and looked at this hands. They were shaking badly.
“...What is this ominous feeling?”
~~~~*Break*~~~~
“No. 222”
“Denied.”
“No. 345?”
“Denied.”
“No. 4876”
“Permanently denied.”
“Err...377?”
“...Approved.”
Harvey looked up from his desk and glanced at the doctor seated before him. He looked distracted and was busy staring at the ceiling.
“Something the matter, doc?” The Doctor waved his hand absently.
“Continue.”
“That's it for the day.” Harvey said, throwing the files into an open drawer behind him. He stood up and grasped the doctor's shoulder. “Come with me. I think it's about time you were properly welcomed.”
“Properly welcomed?” The Doctor's expression turned into a frown. It had been a month since he had joined the facility.
“Yes.” Harvey didn't say anymore, leading the Doctor through a series of hallways which he was now able to recognize. The pair ended up before the Deputy Warden's office as he had expected.
“Enter...” The rough voice croaked.
“Ah, Doctor. How is No.7777 now?” Helena said, looking up from her desk. Her spectacles were tucked on the lower part of her nose as she perused a single file from the many kept on the desk.
“He suffered an initial relapse as expected, however, No.7777 is now on the road to permanent recovery.” The Doctor replied promptly.
“How long do you think it'll take?”
“Most of the people in this prison are genuinely ill, ma'am. Not just seeking asylum from the law.” The Doctor replied softly. “Their insanity has become a part of them. Taken root in their brain and made it rot. I'll need some time to take out that parasite.”
Harvey cleared his throat before Helena could reply. She closed her mouth and turned curtly to him, a bit surprised at the sudden intrusion.
“Yes, Harvey?”
Harvey leaned forward and pressed a slip into Helena's hands. She glanced at it and looked back up at him, eyebrows raised.
“You wish to take a trip to the nearby village?”
“Along with the doctor, of course.”
Helena's eyes widened as she stared at the both of them, turning her stare towards the doctor. He returned it blankly.
“...And what is this regarding?”
“Come on, Ms. Banks. We've both been working our asses off this month. You're welcome to tag along if you so wish.” Harvey said. Now it was the Doctor's turn to raise his eyebrow at him. Like someone as uptight as Helena would join them.
To his surprise, Helena sighed and nodded.
“I do feel a bit restless. A pint ought to do some good.” Helena said, puffing smoke outwards as she put out her cigarette. The three stood up in rhythm and navigated their way through the hallways towards the main entrance.
“Now now now. Leaving me behind, Doctor?” A voice stopped the company's brief progression. The Doctor turned about, his eyes landing on the figure who was dressed in a tight-fitting navy blue dress.
“Ah, Xavia. Always a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Harvey muttered dryly.
Xavia turned her gaze towards him.
“Ah, Harvey, I wish I could say the same.” She replied. “Still as...well-endowed as ever I see.”
Harvey turned red at the statement and turned away. The Doctor smiled. He still hadn't figured out the reason behind their intense dislike of one another.
“You can come along too, Xavia.” Helena said, flashing her a rare smile. Harvey looked ready to object but was silenced by a glare from her.
Xavia smiled at Helena and thrust past Harvey, planting herself besides the Doctor.
“I bet the Doctor knows how to treat a lady right.” She said as the company approached the entrance.
“Pfft...lady...” Harvey mumbled from behind them, making Xavia glare at him.
“Jeffrey, they're with me.”
Jeffrey bowed and opened the entrance, closing it behind them without a word, his bulky exterior taking up most of the space as they passed through.
“He's being rather quiet today.” Harvey commented.
“The doctor's got him on... something, haven't you, doc?” Xavia said, smirking at the Doctor. The company turned their gaze to the Doctor who looked back at them blankly.
“Huh...Pardon?”
“Are you alright?” Xavia asked.
“Not particularly.” The Doctor stated. “Not that your company isn't delightful but forgive me, I feel a bit out of it today.”
“What's up with him?” Helena whispered to Harvey.
“That is the purpose of this trip.” Harvey said back quietly.
“Oh? So it was not to get hopelessly drunk and let loose?” Helena retorted.
“...Why that wasn't on my mind at all...” Harvey smiled.
The company finally settled to a stop before a small building.
“The Slicer.” Xavia muttered aloud.
“Best pint in the locality. You know of it?” Harvey said, leading the way inside.
The Slicer was a modestly decorated pub with a characteristic feel of the town. The one and only clubbing destination in the entire town, the pub was packed with customers at peak hours but it was lazily populated at this time of the evening.
“...And what's your poison?” The bartender asked, looking at them.
“Gin and tonic,” Harvey said. The bartender nodded and turned to the others.
“Scotch on the rocks with a twist.” Helena demanded. The bartender nodded again and turned to Xavia, breaking into a smile.
“Ah, Ms. Xavia. You'll have your usual?” The bartender asked, making Xavia turn a little red.
“Yes,” She replied. The company turned to the Doctor who was staring off into the space.
“Doc?”
“Huh? Oh. My apologies. I'll just have some ice tea.” The Doctor stated. The company stared at him.
“Doc, this isn't a night to be having ice tea. You're not at work.” Harvey said.
“I'm a Doctor. I'm always working.” He replied shortly and turned to finding a booth. They found an empty one besides the windowpane and settled down noiselessly. Silence descended on the company as they sipped their drinks, looking around at everything but each other.
Harvey met Helena's eyes who nodded over towards the Doctor. Harvey shook his head, studying the Doctor's blank expression as he stared out of the window.
Helena shook her head in turn and turned towards the Doctor, staring at him until he met her gaze.
“So, Doctor...How are you finding my prison?”
“It is indeed in quite a good condition. The prisoner's are well taken care of and some are ready to be moved to more... normal institutions.”
The silence descended once again until it was broken by the Doctor standing up.
“Excuse me.” He muttered in a low voice.
...Dreams...I know...
The Doctor shook in his stride to the bathroom. He wiped the sweat off his forehead and grasped the handle of the door.
...I know who you really are...
The Doctor sighed and closed his eyes, leaning against the door as he breathed hard. He was shaken out of his state as a hand firmly grasped his shoulder and turned him around.
“Okay, Doc. Spill i-”
Xavia's questioning statement was interrupted by a sudden loud scream.
The change was instant. The atmosphere in the club turned still and silent as everyone looked around for the source of the noise. A windowpane smashed open as a bloody figure was thrust through it. The figure landed hard in the middle of the club and didn't move.
For a split second there was a complete lull until everybody burst into motion.
“No, stay back!” Harvey shouted to the crowd of people advancing towards the bloody figure while another crowd burst out of the pub. “He's a doctor. Everybody stay back.”
The Doctor leaned closer to the motionless figure and checked for a pulse.
He turned back up and looked into Harvey's questioning eyes, and shook his head. The Doctor turned back to the body then towards the clock on the wall by the bar.
“...Time of death: eight thirty...Judging by the obvious way the knife is sticking out of the poor man's neck...We have a murder on our hands...”
The blood flowed free, seeping across the floor as the stunned crowd looked on at the complete calmness in the Doctor's expression...
The Slicer: Part One
“I know your dreams...”
“...I know your purpose...”
“I know you. I know your story. I know your weakness. I know everything...”
The Doctor's eyes burst open in shock. He looked around in a daze, his breath falling hard in the dead silent room. He glanced down at his chest only to find it drenched in sweat as he attempted to ease his breathing.
That voice. He knew the voice very well. He had heard it quite long ago. It belonged to a figure from his past. A past he had left behind long ago.
I know...everything...
Instantly, he looked around the room he already knew quite well was empty.
He stood up abruptly, trying to calm himself and looked at this hands. They were shaking badly.
“...What is this ominous feeling?”
~~~~*Break*~~~~
“No. 222”
“Denied.”
“No. 345?”
“Denied.”
“No. 4876”
“Permanently denied.”
“Err...377?”
“...Approved.”
Harvey looked up from his desk and glanced at the doctor seated before him. He looked distracted and was busy staring at the ceiling.
“Something the matter, doc?” The Doctor waved his hand absently.
“Continue.”
“That's it for the day.” Harvey said, throwing the files into an open drawer behind him. He stood up and grasped the doctor's shoulder. “Come with me. I think it's about time you were properly welcomed.”
“Properly welcomed?” The Doctor's expression turned into a frown. It had been a month since he had joined the facility.
“Yes.” Harvey didn't say anymore, leading the Doctor through a series of hallways which he was now able to recognize. The pair ended up before the Deputy Warden's office as he had expected.
“Enter...” The rough voice croaked.
“Ah, Doctor. How is No.7777 now?” Helena said, looking up from her desk. Her spectacles were tucked on the lower part of her nose as she perused a single file from the many kept on the desk.
“He suffered an initial relapse as expected, however, No.7777 is now on the road to permanent recovery.” The Doctor replied promptly.
“How long do you think it'll take?”
“Most of the people in this prison are genuinely ill, ma'am. Not just seeking asylum from the law.” The Doctor replied softly. “Their insanity has become a part of them. Taken root in their brain and made it rot. I'll need some time to take out that parasite.”
Harvey cleared his throat before Helena could reply. She closed her mouth and turned curtly to him, a bit surprised at the sudden intrusion.
“Yes, Harvey?”
Harvey leaned forward and pressed a slip into Helena's hands. She glanced at it and looked back up at him, eyebrows raised.
“You wish to take a trip to the nearby village?”
“Along with the doctor, of course.”
Helena's eyes widened as she stared at the both of them, turning her stare towards the doctor. He returned it blankly.
“...And what is this regarding?”
“Come on, Ms. Banks. We've both been working our asses off this month. You're welcome to tag along if you so wish.” Harvey said. Now it was the Doctor's turn to raise his eyebrow at him. Like someone as uptight as Helena would join them.
To his surprise, Helena sighed and nodded.
“I do feel a bit restless. A pint ought to do some good.” Helena said, puffing smoke outwards as she put out her cigarette. The three stood up in rhythm and navigated their way through the hallways towards the main entrance.
“Now now now. Leaving me behind, Doctor?” A voice stopped the company's brief progression. The Doctor turned about, his eyes landing on the figure who was dressed in a tight-fitting navy blue dress.
“Ah, Xavia. Always a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Harvey muttered dryly.
Xavia turned her gaze towards him.
“Ah, Harvey, I wish I could say the same.” She replied. “Still as...well-endowed as ever I see.”
Harvey turned red at the statement and turned away. The Doctor smiled. He still hadn't figured out the reason behind their intense dislike of one another.
“You can come along too, Xavia.” Helena said, flashing her a rare smile. Harvey looked ready to object but was silenced by a glare from her.
Xavia smiled at Helena and thrust past Harvey, planting herself besides the Doctor.
“I bet the Doctor knows how to treat a lady right.” She said as the company approached the entrance.
“Pfft...lady...” Harvey mumbled from behind them, making Xavia glare at him.
“Jeffrey, they're with me.”
Jeffrey bowed and opened the entrance, closing it behind them without a word, his bulky exterior taking up most of the space as they passed through.
“He's being rather quiet today.” Harvey commented.
“The doctor's got him on... something, haven't you, doc?” Xavia said, smirking at the Doctor. The company turned their gaze to the Doctor who looked back at them blankly.
“Huh...Pardon?”
“Are you alright?” Xavia asked.
“Not particularly.” The Doctor stated. “Not that your company isn't delightful but forgive me, I feel a bit out of it today.”
“What's up with him?” Helena whispered to Harvey.
“That is the purpose of this trip.” Harvey said back quietly.
“Oh? So it was not to get hopelessly drunk and let loose?” Helena retorted.
“...Why that wasn't on my mind at all...” Harvey smiled.
The company finally settled to a stop before a small building.
“The Slicer.” Xavia muttered aloud.
“Best pint in the locality. You know of it?” Harvey said, leading the way inside.
The Slicer was a modestly decorated pub with a characteristic feel of the town. The one and only clubbing destination in the entire town, the pub was packed with customers at peak hours but it was lazily populated at this time of the evening.
“...And what's your poison?” The bartender asked, looking at them.
“Gin and tonic,” Harvey said. The bartender nodded and turned to the others.
“Scotch on the rocks with a twist.” Helena demanded. The bartender nodded again and turned to Xavia, breaking into a smile.
“Ah, Ms. Xavia. You'll have your usual?” The bartender asked, making Xavia turn a little red.
“Yes,” She replied. The company turned to the Doctor who was staring off into the space.
“Doc?”
“Huh? Oh. My apologies. I'll just have some ice tea.” The Doctor stated. The company stared at him.
“Doc, this isn't a night to be having ice tea. You're not at work.” Harvey said.
“I'm a Doctor. I'm always working.” He replied shortly and turned to finding a booth. They found an empty one besides the windowpane and settled down noiselessly. Silence descended on the company as they sipped their drinks, looking around at everything but each other.
Harvey met Helena's eyes who nodded over towards the Doctor. Harvey shook his head, studying the Doctor's blank expression as he stared out of the window.
Helena shook her head in turn and turned towards the Doctor, staring at him until he met her gaze.
“So, Doctor...How are you finding my prison?”
“It is indeed in quite a good condition. The prisoner's are well taken care of and some are ready to be moved to more... normal institutions.”
The silence descended once again until it was broken by the Doctor standing up.
“Excuse me.” He muttered in a low voice.
...Dreams...I know...
The Doctor shook in his stride to the bathroom. He wiped the sweat off his forehead and grasped the handle of the door.
...I know who you really are...
The Doctor sighed and closed his eyes, leaning against the door as he breathed hard. He was shaken out of his state as a hand firmly grasped his shoulder and turned him around.
“Okay, Doc. Spill i-”
Xavia's questioning statement was interrupted by a sudden loud scream.
The change was instant. The atmosphere in the club turned still and silent as everyone looked around for the source of the noise. A windowpane smashed open as a bloody figure was thrust through it. The figure landed hard in the middle of the club and didn't move.
For a split second there was a complete lull until everybody burst into motion.
“No, stay back!” Harvey shouted to the crowd of people advancing towards the bloody figure while another crowd burst out of the pub. “He's a doctor. Everybody stay back.”
The Doctor leaned closer to the motionless figure and checked for a pulse.
He turned back up and looked into Harvey's questioning eyes, and shook his head. The Doctor turned back to the body then towards the clock on the wall by the bar.
“...Time of death: eight thirty...Judging by the obvious way the knife is sticking out of the poor man's neck...We have a murder on our hands...”
The blood flowed free, seeping across the floor as the stunned crowd looked on at the complete calmness in the Doctor's expression...
Edited by ╚¡ƒéŠ JƱ¡ƆƐ, 28 September 2012 - 05:25 PM.
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