Asylum

A short story of revenge, though not everything is how its seems.

     The ground stained ruby under the mounds of the dead. My parents lay below, eye's wide, perches for flies, meals for carrion. A man walked away, into a falling sun, black against the backdrop. At his side walked her, my sister. A doll on strings, following the orders of the master, blood spouted form joints, with each awkward step. The man moved over the horizon, out of sight. The sun still hung over the crest of Earth, casting the world into a crimson hell.

      I flung the blankets across the room, walked through the abyss to look out the adjacent window. The wooden sill held my slumbering body. Outside, neon signs blazed, turning night to day. Behemoths of steel and concrete shot towards the heavens. Wails of sirens echoed in the night, chasing ghouls.

      Below, the street lay under a cover of trash, protecting the aging asphalt from the elements. The homeless huddled around orange glowing bins. A pimp slapped a hooker, caught by the other w****s before hitting the ground. A man sat inside a parked car, smacking the inner crease of the elbow, before stabbing an object into his arm.

      I turned away from the marvels of the modern city community, facing instead the blackness of my world. Dominated by the dark, the room revealed nothing, even with the adjustment to the lighting. A board creaked some where inside the veil of shadows.

      “You can come out. I know you're there.” I said uncertain into the otherwise empty apartment. From the abyss walked a lone figure, clothed in battered worn jeans, shirt, and jacket. A pair of night vision goggles sat comfortably upon the man's face, strapped for dear life to the back of his head.

      I flipped a switch situated on the nearby wall. Light flooded the room, revealing the treasures hidden by the greedy darkness. The figure was illuminated he stood a head taller than I, at six feet three. A large smile spanned where the goggles did not cover.

      The man removed the night vision goggles, and secured them to the belt around his waist. He had short mangy blonde hair, to match the stubble growing unchecked. Pale green eyes locked onto me, paired with a strenuous smile.

     “Jack can't you ever knock?” I asked him.

     “Where's the fun in that?” he responded, still smiling.

      “Right, how long have you been here?” I walked to the fridge.

      “I don't know an hour or two. Didn't expect you to sleep in.”

      “Right, so whats up?” I asked, a bottled water in an outstretched hand. Jack shook his head, I brought the drink back, opened it, downing it quickly. The emptied container placed onto a counter top next to a pistol.

      “Guess who I found!” Jack exclaimed, mimicking a school girl.

      “I don't want to play this game Jack, just tell me who.” I sighed.

      “No, that ruins the fun.”

      “Jack! I don't want to play games right now.” I growled.

      “That's too bad, I'm not going to tell you unless you guess.”

      “Jack, tell me now or I will shoot you!”

      “Nope.” Jack said. I grabbed a 9mm from the top of kitchen counter. A flash of lightning to the eye, the barrel of the gun pressed between Jack's eye's. The smile did not falter, sweat did not bead, Jack did not flinch.

      “Really wanna do that? You'll never know!” Jack sung. A shortened shot gun was thrust into my gut. His smiled widened slightly. “If you really don't care, then go ahead and shoot me, but I got money I can pull a trigger just as fast.”

      After a moment, we both holstered the guns, and moved onto talking.

     “I'm not guessing, so just tell me.” I said.

      “You're no fun, you know that? Too serious, but fine. I think I found him.” Jack said, suddenly serious.

      “Who?”

      “You know who, the guy you're always talking about. The guy you want to kill.” Jack stated. My heart raced, pounded, it felt like it would burst right out of my chest. “The man that killed you family.” That was it, I lost it, slamming Jack into the wall, pulling the gun back up to bare. The gun had not managed to make it to Jack's face, before the muzzle of sawed off shot gun stabbed under my chin. Jack smiled still, though rage flashed behind his eyes.

      “Where is he?” I shouted. Jack smiled, but did not move. “Where is he!”

      “Put your gun away, and I will be more than happy to tell you.”

      I lowered the gun, and placed it back in the holster. Jack also holstered his shotgun.

     “Jack, tell me where that b*****d is.”

     “Well it turns out that he's a doctor, a pretty well known doctor at that, and it seems that he's in town.”

     “Where?” I interrupted.

     “I was getting there. He's at a nut house down town, which is a fantastic location by the way. He's doing some weird experiments or something, so he's usually there all night. I've taken the liberty to make some calls and get the blueprints.”

      “Good, good.” I said. Jack pointed to certain locations, his words drowned by thoughts racing through my head. Sweat beaded and rolled down my back, shivers fled down my spine. Thud, thud, my heart raced, it took everything not to run out of the room.

      “So, what exactly did this guy do to you?” Jack asked, looking at me.”

      “What?”

      “What did he do? You've never told me why you want to kill him.”

      “He killed my family.”

      “Damn.” Jack responded after a silence.

      “Yeah.”

      “Well, let's go kill this son of a b***h.”

      Ammo was checked, guns cleaned and holstered, resolved fortified. The door from my apartment creaked open, to reveal a decrepit stairwell, on which we descended. The stairs creaked and groaned with every step, stained with indeterminable colors. Shadows danced on the walls, figures faded in and out of existence.

      At the bottom of the stairs, a large steel door hung on solid hinges the last guard between us and the street. Rust ate at the edges, broken needles lay at its feet, an alcohol soaked man sat beside it. Jack brought a foot up, and kicked out the door.

      The door swung out, slamming into the wall to which it connected. Inward wafted a smell of rotting garbage, Jack's smile wavered. Directly ahead of the door, parked in the street was a black Harley Davidson motorcycle, Jack's favorite bike.       Upon the motorcycle perched a monstrous crow. Its gaze locked on us, Jack stared back at the bird. The beast let out a piercing caw, and Jack shot the bird off of his bike. The remains of the crow flew into a group of huddled homeless. They glanced to each other, then pounced upon the corpse in a jubilant frenzy.

      “Well, you ready to go?” Jack said, as he strode to the bike, and wiped away the feathers left behind. I nodded, and got onto the bike with him.

      We stood outside a large intimidating concrete building. Twisted tree's, and a dying landscape gave a malicious appearance.

      “Gotta love glass doors, I'm telling you.” Jack said, returned from scouting.

      “How many?” I asked.

      “Four guards, fairly well armed, at the front desk. No civilians as far as I could tell.”

      “Good, don't need any civilian casualties. Maybe we can sneak in from the roof, and avoid too much attention.”

      “Mhmm,” Jack said. “so we have two choices, sneak in through roof, or go in gun's a blazing. It's your choice.”

      I scanned the walls, looking for way to climb up. A spot seemed to be hidden by bushes, caught my eye, it appeared to be the perfect place. An engine roared behind me, I turned, Jack revved the engine on the bike, and released the hand brake. The bike shot forward, towards the front door, Jack abandoned the bike, just before it hit.

      The bike flew through the glass, slamming into the front desk. Three guards were hit straight on, the forth managed to escape the majority of the blow, but both legs were broken.

      Jack got up, off of the concrete, and stepped over the dunes of glass towards the guard; Jack shot him in the head. I ran up to Jack, his smile still unfaltering.

      “What the hell was that!” I screamed.

      “You were taking too long.” he shrugged.

      “Damn it Jack.”

      “Whatever we need to move on. There, a map of the building.” Jack pointed, and moved towards a map, mounted on the wall. We located the office of the Doctor, and sprinted down the hallways towards it. The corridors all looked the same, bright white, no characteristics distinguishing one hall from another.

An alarm rang out through the building, lights flashed red. We emerged in a hall larger than the others, and were greeted with gun fire. We hid behind cover.

      “Why do these guards have guns?” I screamed at Jack. A bullet ricocheted nearby, sending small amounts of shrapnel into my arm. “Damn, they know how to use them too!”

      “Yeah, this is weird, I was not expecting this.” he screamed, still smiling. A group of guards poured from a connecting corridor, nearly flanking our location.

      “Why are there so many guards here? What the hell kind of crazy house is this!” I yelled at no one in particular.

      “I don't know.” Jack, pulled out his pistol. “Go ahead, I'll take care of these guys!” I nodded, and took off, going backwards and around. The sounds of gun fire and screams rang louder than the alarm, all around me. Thump, thump, vibrated through my body. I pushed through the labyrinth of halls, stumbling through, while feeling, thump, thump, pounding away.

      After a few minutes of running I was in front of two, large oak doors, embroidered with gold lettering. I pushed upon the doors, thump thump, slow to give way. Light poured out from inside, and I stood, with the door open, engulfed by light, staring in awe. Thump thump, died, replaced with an unexplainable calm.

      My eye's adjusted quickly, to reveal several large medical lamps aimed upon the door in which I entered. The walls covered in book shelves, filled with books. An antiquated desk stood in the back of the room, a large chair behind it, facing away. Through the room, there were other doors, all of which had lights aimed at them as well. In the very center of the room, was an operating table.

      A body of someone lay across the table, covered by blood soaked sheets. The wind blew through an open window, brushing the sheet aside, revealing part of the face, showing a large grin.

      “Jack!” I yelled, moving towards Jack. The chair at the far end of the room turned to face Jack and I. Upon the worn leather padding sat a man, with dark combed back hair and thick spectacles, behind a plate inscribed Dr. Charles Weller.

I stared at Dr. Weller, then Jack, then to a trail of blood on the ground next to one of the doors. The Doctor stood and walked towards me, I moved away, with opposing every step.

      He was next to Jack's, I stood next to the door I had entered from. The doctor checked the straps securing Jack to the steel table. Doctor Weller then slipped a pair of latex gloves on, and used a remote to raise the table.

      The table locked with a loud clank. Doctor Weller then looked to me, with a searching gaze. An eyebrow arched and his lip quivered.

      “Do I know you young man?” the Doctor asked me, his voice cold, full of contempt. The words struck me like ice, breaking the dam, memories flooded forth. A flash of my sister smiling at me, my mother and father eating at the table, a smell of sunflowers wafting in through an open window. It was too much, too powerful, I grabbed my gun and pointed it at Dr Weller.

      “Stop!” he shouted, throwing his hands into the air. The doctor's face was pale, drained of blood, lips pursed together in a thin line. His mouth opened, and closed again, as if trying to find words to fit.

      “I remember you now. You... You're that boy.” he said, voice cracking. “You had an unbelievable fever, the highest fever I had ever seen. Your family gave you some local medicine, but you were given Psilocybe Cubensis, a highly hallucinogenic mushroom.” The doctor's words degraded into barks. “With your fever you were hallucinating, along with the mushroom, god it must have been terrible. When I got there, I... I couldn't help you!” the doctor pleaded.

      “You were too far gone." he continued.  "You couldn't be stopped. You found a gun, delusional, you killed everyone, everyone except her!” The doctor had devolved, fear turned him into more beast than man. “I save her though, I saved your sister. You nearly had us too, but your body gave out, you collapsed, I was being merciful, I thought I ended your misery.”

      The doctor stared at me, his eye's sunken and wide, nostrils flared. Veins pulsed on his head. His demeanor disappeared with all traces of humanity, degraded to hysterical ranting. “How are you still alive? Are you just a ghost? A ghost coming for its final vengeance? You want to kill me! I won't let you! I'll kill your friend, can you handle that?”

      He grabbed a scalpel off the nearby tray, and thrust the knife into Jack's hole covered body. The doctor rotated the blade, withdrew the blade, to stab Jack again. The semiconscious smile faded into a scowl and shriek. Jack was not smiling, he always smiled, even when shot. Doctor Weller laughed, staring me down.

      I could not bare it, to watch Jack die like this, undignified, I would not bare it. The blockage in my cleared, and I stepped forward. “Don't move! I said stop moving! Stop!” the doctor yelled. I grabbed the gun belted to my waist, no motion wasted, pulled it out, and blew a quarter-sized hole in Dr. Weller's head.

      Jack laid on the steel table, the sheets had fallen off, revealing his entire body. Jack gasped for air in between the cries. I pressed the cold muzzle of the gun into Jack's forehead. Lakes dammed burst forth despite my best efforts.

      “Good bye Jack.” I chocked out. Jack smiled. I pulled the trigger, sending away the only friend I ever had in this world, sent out with a historical grin. Tear's poured like waterfalls down my cheeks.

      I looked to the dead doctor, and Jack, desperate to move on. I dropped the gun and walked out the massive wooden doors in which I entered.

      I stumbled through the crimson pulsing halls, alarms blared. Yet, I saw no flashes, heard no sirens, all I could see or hear, was the gun shot and the last breath of a lone friend. Corpses littered the hall, walls pot marked with bullet holes. Staggering over bodies, moving towards the entrance Jack opened up.

      Glass cracked under my boots. I stepped over the threshold, and was greeted not with peaceful silence, instead a blaring spot light. Immediately pulled back into the present, I became aware of my situation.

      “Freeze! Put your hands in the air.” a disembodied voice echoed through the night. Two helicopters hovered above, shining lights upon the doorway. Vehicles parked in a staggered line, shields to dozens of men, with guns pointed at the entrance. Reflective letters spelled police on the sides of the vehicles.

      “What an odd number of officers.” I said to myself. “Must have been the gun shots, or maybe there is more to this place than I thought.” Looking back to the concrete building I had just exited. Again an echo of contradicting directions rang out.

      Rebellious I stepped forward, inviting death. The gunmen tensed, ready to unleash a volley towards this criminal. I moved towards them, motioning to grab my holstered gun. I was met with a barrage of gunfire. An indeterminable number of bullet holes poured out blood. I looked down at the damage, all I could do was smile. I stared back at the assailants, who holstered their guns for an unobstructed view.

      I collapsed onto my knees, gaze locked onto the keepers of the peace. I would die in this mausoleum housing my friend's body, in this so called asylum.

A head poked out of the crowd, and ran towards me. The police tried in vain to stop the person, who appeared to be more agile. My vision started to fade, long hair and a feminine silhouette stood out in the spot lights. She ran as quiet as night, squatting next to me, looking into my eyes. light filled in from the outside of my sight, leaving only her face visible, such a beautiful face, full of life. A familiar face, but I could not tell who it was.

      “Where is Dr. Weller?” She asked, frantic. The woman's face was contorted with stress. Her face, I knew that face, the face of a woman long thought dead. The face of my dreams, of my sister. I pressed my smile wider, straining the muscles unaccustomed to the motion. “You look familiar. Do I know you?”

      “No.” I coughed through the blood and mucus. My vision faded, embraced in eternal light. I was ready to accept oblivion, to be done with it all. The white light turned black

      I awoke, lying comfortable in an ivory white room. The entire room, padded in a thick cushion. I tried to stand, but was restrained by a jacket holding my arms tight. After several minutes I managed to stand, throwing my body against the walls, attempts to get free from the restraints.

      A loud knocking came from a door in on of the walls, a slit opened and a pair of eyes looked in. The door cracked open, and two large men walked in, pushing me down onto the ground. A woman walked in behind them.

      “Oh hon', you know you get those nasty nightmares when you don't take your medicine.” The woman chirped at me, pulling out a small syringe. She poked me, a rush of numbness and relaxation washed over me.      

      I slouched to the floor, ceasing resistance. The brutish duo let go and walked out of the room. The giddy woman greeted a man that walked through the door the gorilla's left through. The man came and looked at me. I forced my head head to look at the man. The man staring at me, was a small pale man, wearing a lab coat. He had dark combed back hair and thick spectacles.

 

Author's Note

This is a reedited draft of my very first story that was posted on here before. Be critical please

Reviews

[electricsatori]

Immediately I can tell you one thing to vastly improve this piece. Remove author intrusion.
Author intrusion is when you create a filtering lens for the scene. Like, when the person viewing the scene is included in most of the description.
For example: Above me was a plethora of neon signs illuminating the night like the sun does the day.
Rewrite: Neon signs blazed, turning night into day.
Almost all of your sentences contain author intrusion and it really detracts from the scene. 1st person is hard to write convincingly, few do it well.

In order for this to be readable you have to break your paragraphs up into digestible chunks. M. Night Shyamalan's screenplays are notorious for having large areas of white space. Also, he was the first person to ever have a script green-lighted without any rewrites. He is a master, learn from him.

This is decent for your first attempt at a long story. You say this is your first?
If it is, then you have some serious potential. At the same time you have some serious work that needs to be done on your prose. I'll give you more feedback at a later date, right now it's bedtime for me.

[Forevergone]

I think that this is very very good. I like the dream in the beging. great!

[Jetta Zippora]

Ooo! I like it! Awesome write!

[Salvatore Buttaci]

For a first full story, it is quite good. One suggestion: try to avoid very long paragraphs. Try breaking it down into two or more paragraphs.

Sal

[thecoolone52]

wow thats damn good for your first full story........... thanks for entering my contest....... its better then 75% of the entries ive looked at so far so nice work............