Chapter
1 – The Hand of Satan
For
nearly thirty years, Vladimir has driven down this same country road to his job
at the hospital. He enjoys this morning habit because it gives him time to
clear his head, and it's rarely jammed with traffic unlike the interstate.
However, this summer morning, it feels different as there is more than usual
traffic driving down the weathered asphalt. He rolls down the window, and
stares at the mist-shrouded pine forest. He becomes slightly annoyed there are
no sounds at all when this forest is normally a choir of birds greeting the
morning. Also, instead of the usual aroma of pine needles the air is thick with
the stench of decay which causes him to think about his job as the smell
lingers inside his car.
As
he turns around the bend by the covered bridge over the river, he sees
something a large shadowy figure in his headlights standing in the middle of
the road over a deer carcass. He quickly slams on his brakes, missing the man
by a few feet. He looks out into the morning darkness, and sees what appears to
be a man glowing red eyes with fresh blood dripping from his hands. The man
smiles at Vladimir as a truck with their high beams turns around the curve,
blinding Vladimir. When the truck passes Vladimir, the man is gone, along with
the deer.
Vladimir
runs his hands through his white hair as he feels his body wound tighter than a
piano string. His cold blue eyes stare through the windshield, and he sees the
road in front of him is clear once again as an impatient driver behind him
honks. He slaps his left cheek lightly to make sure that he’s really awake. He
starts moving forward while sighing, “You’re letting your work to get you,
Vladimir. You need a vacation.”
Vladimir
continues on his way, trying to forget the encounter of the man with red eyes
out of his mind. He has a full day ahead, and can't keep focusing on a random
encounter by the river. All he knows it could have been a mild case of
hallucinating due to the severe insomnia he's been suffering from. The stress
of marriage indifferences at home is affecting him more then he originally
thought.
He
stops his car at the front security gates that lead to the hospital. The black,
wrought iron bars still makes him feel he’s entering a prison, not a mental
hospital. The red bricks that form the rest of the perimeter fence are blood
red, a somber reminder that what the fence contains inside is for the safety of
everyone on the outside. The squeak the fences make when they slowly creak open
send a shiver down his spine. He is still in shock after his incident during
his morning commute. He silently hopes the rest of day goes smoothly because
for this place is designed to cure his patients, and he prays that he never
becomes one as his hands are still shaking on the steering wheel.
After
making his way through the front security gates and down the concrete driveway,
he pulls into his parking spot under the massive moss covered oak, and stops
the car. He gets out, and looks back towards the road. The sun is starting to
rise over the hills, shining through the pines. The morning rays casting
slender fingers of light through the underbrush, and over the asylum's weather
brick facade. The smell of decay is gone, and replaced by the usual stench of
the pine needles mixed with the morning glories growing throughout the cracked
bricks in the building. He notices his hands aren’t shaking as bad as he hears
the birds begin their daily harmony through the branches.
Walking
through the massive iron and oak doors into the lobby, he sees the human
resources administrator waiting for him in front of the oak security desk. He
doesn't fear the administrator like some employees do. Then again, Vlad knows
that the administrator has a reputation for firing people over simple things,
like the wrong shoes, but it’s just rumors to keep people in line. The
administrator is a short, squirrelly looking man in his late 40's with puffy
cheeks, baldhead, and wears the same plain gray suits to work every day. In his
hand, there's a large docket of papers tapping his toes in his cheap leather
dress shoes on the tile.
The
guard Tony is sitting at his post, mocking the administrator behind his back.
Vladimir feels that some days, they hired patients to run administrative tasks
as the guard keeps making faces behind the administrator’s back. Ten feet
behind the desk is the two doors made out of solid steel bars that keep the
patients in, and society out. This hospital has been the home of some of the
most notorious serial killers, so comfort was last on design features when they
built this place.
As
Vladimir makes it to the desk, the administrator holds out the docket while
stating, “Dr. Zhernakov, this came in from your wife's lawyer," says the
administrator as he holds it out. "You need to sign it by the end of the
day."
Vladimir
snatches it, tucks it under his left arm without saying a word. He shows the
guard his ID card, and makes his way towards the steel doors. He gets a few
feet away from the desk when he hears behind me, "I'm not kidding, Doctor.
By today!"
Vladimir
turns around, and stomps heavily back towards the desk. Easily a foot tall then
Mr. Brown, the doctor looks down at the administrator and coldly replies in his
Russian accent, "Mr. Brown, I will have on your desk by five this
afternoon. Also, I wish you wouldn't broadcast my personal affairs in front of
the staff."
Mr.
Brown is about to say something, but stops when he sees the angered look in
Vladimir’s eyes, he quickly scurries off down the hall, and disappears behind
an unmarked gray door to the left of the guard station.
Tony
chuckles as Vladimir slides his card into the card reader next to the steel
doors. When he hears the click of the lock disengage, he pulls the door open,
and quickly enters. He closes the door, despite it being automatic, and stand
there waiting for the lock to engage once more before walking forward. He makes
his way down the hall to the administration door at the end.
He
slides his card in the administration door leading to his office, and is
surprised to see two police officers sitting in the lobby across from the
nurses’ station on the couch. Vladimir guesses the one with gray hair and brown
eyes is higher up than the baby-faced man with black hair and brown eyes. They
both have a serious look on their faces as they drink their coffee without
saying a word in their cheap off-the-shelf suits. The nurse on duty is Bianca,
a middle age woman with brown hair in a tight bun and blue eyes, is too busy
reading the computer monitor, completely oblivious to her surroundings. After
learning his wife is having an affair with a nurse, he’s becoming to loathe all
the nurses despite them being critical to his work.
The
doctor gives the nurses a dirty look before starting to the cops, “Good
morning, officers. I'm Dr. Vladimir Zhernakov, Head Director here at Misty
Pines Mental Hospital. How can I be of assistance?"
The
older cop states while showing his badge that is attached by a rubber band to a
large file folder, "I'm Detective Ramirez, and this is my partner
Detective Stetson. We're in The Homicide Division Can we talk in private,
Doctor?"
"Of
course. Please in my office," replies Vladimir as he points to the door at
the end of the lobby.
They
stand up, and follow Vladimir to the door. He opens his office door, and holds
the door open for the officers while yelling back towards Bianca, "Coffee
and danishes please."
“Yes,
Doctor,” Bianca replies.
Vladimir
lets out a snort as Bianca runs off before closing the door. The fact his home
life is being affected by nurses in a way, and most of them are clueless some
days, he's being to think to replace them all, and hire new ones. However, he
can't because according to Mr. Brown, that's against policy despite all the
evidence. So, he has to deal with the current staff, even though he feels the
patients here are more useful due to countless reports of negligence and
incompetence.
Vladimir
motions for the officers to sit down opposite of him he tucks the packet from
HR into the top desk drawer. Despite being Head Director, his office is
sparsely decorated besides a wall of file cabinets. The only personal things
Vladimir keeps in here is his degrees and certifications mounted on the beige
wells behind his mahogany desk, and a single Matryoshka doll his mother gave
him he keeps by his computer monitor. He moves a stack of files off his desk so
they can see each other more clearly. Vladimir He looks at the officers and
inquires, "What can I do for you?"
Detective
Ramirez explains, “We have a new patient we want to admit to your facility. Due
to a court gag order, we can’t say his name." He lays the folder on the
desk in front of Vladimir, and adds, "I will warn you, Doctor. There are
some very graphic photos within."
"Detective,
I've served in Vietnam. Very few things will shock me anymore," Vladimir
states. He opens the file, and sees the mug shot of a young man whose name is
redacted on the file due to the gag order. Vlad guesses the man is in his
mid-twenties, neatly trimmed blond hair, and a happy expression in his green
eyes.
Vladimir
flips over the mug shot, and begins reading the police report. He actual finds
himself a little disturbed by the description of human sacrifice written within
the papers. He flips back and forth between the photo and report in disbelief.
He finally looks at the crime scene photos, and his eyes open wide in shock as
he stares at the heavily mutilated family of four hanging from the ceiling. His
brow wrinkles as he finds himself puzzled how a man with no criminal record or
health issues commits such a heinous crime, which includes four counts of
first-degree murder, and one count of second degree.
"You
okay, Doctor?" asks Detective Stetson.
"I
don't believe what I'm seeing," he sighs as he closes the folder, feeling
his stomach turn and tasting bile in the back of his throat. “This man did all
of this?"
"Yes,"
says Detective Stetson in a deadpan tone. "All the evidence linked him to
the entire crime: fingerprints, DNA, the whole nine yards. It's an open and
shut case, but the trial has been delayed.
Vladimir
opens the folder again. “I take it was an insanity plea."
"The
State Attorney tried to push the trial right through due to the nature of the
murders, but judge agreed to the plea," says Ramirez.
"You
won't believe us if we told you, Doctor," replies Stetson almost smirking.
"What
was the reason?"
"What
we can say is the accused keeps stating a man with red eyes did the crime, not
him," states Ramirez. “According to his statement, he was asleep until he
heard a single gunshot. He swears he woke up with the pistol in his hand."
Vladimir
freezes as he thinks about the encounter by the river on his way into work this
morning. He finally swallows down the bitter taste of bile in his throat and
asks, “Who did they say was the real murderer?”
“A
man with red eyes, “replies Detective Stetson.
“I
see why the judge agreed to the insanity plea,” Vlad states as he sees a
recollection of the man he saw this morning. Those red eyes might haunt him
forever. “When will the patient arrive?”
"Tomorrow
depending on our report," explains Detective Stetson. "We've been
ordered to check where he will be kept during his tenure here. The State
Attorney wants him to be completely isolated till you can do your full
evaluation."
"I
wasn't notified of such visit," replies Vladimir bitterly. He's never been
a fan of surprise visits by any agency. He's almost a little perturbed Mr.
Brown didn't inform of the two detectives waiting for him. However, since this
is his asylum, he will put on a happy face for the detectives, and deal with
Mr. Brown later.
"There's
a copy of the official letter from the capital in the file in the back,"
states. Detective Ramirez.
Vladimir
turns the file over, and opens it up again. He pauses as he sees those eyes
again for a second, but turns around the sheet of paper on top, and sees it's
the official State Attorney letterhead. He closes the file and hears a knock on
his door indicating an orderly has brought them their breakfast. “Shall we
begin the tour after we have some coffee?" he asks as he stands up.
"Sure,"
the detectives reply.
Thirty
minutes later, the detectives follow Vladimir out of the office, and towards
the rear of the lobby. He slides his card into a heavy, windowless steel door,
and leads them towards a dimly light iron staircase that goes down towards
another steel door. An armed guard with a pump shotgun slung over his shoulder
waits by the door.
Vladimir
hands the guard his ID card, and the detectives show the guard their badges to
make it through the armed guards as they enter a large open room, about the
size of a high school gym. Inside, there are what appear to be 16 clear plastic
cubicle cells that run parallel to each other towards the middle of the open
area. Overhead, there's a metal walkway where the guards armed with shotguns
would circle over the plastic cells. Currently, there's only an armed guard at
each end.
The
walls are joined together by very thick steel beans with padding on the inside.
There is a padded steel frame holding the plastic door in the middle. On one
side of the frame, there's a biometric reader. The room itself contains a
simple bed in the middle on a plastic frame, and in the far right corner,
contains a toilet and a basic shower. The room has no privacy at all.
"Welcome
to Domus Metus, detectives," states Vladimir. "This is where the
worst of the worst are kept. Anyone deemed a threat to the general populous,
such as mass murderers, a history of violence towards the staff, or in a few
cases, patients with a history of cannibalism," Vladimir shudders as he
looks around while thinking how dangerous his job really is, and how fortunate
there hasn’t been any escapes from Domus Metus
"Why
plastic?" asks Detective Stetson as they stand in front of the first one
on the left. He taps on it with knuckles and asks, "How thick is this
plastic?"
"Six
inches thick all around," replies Vladimir. "The roof is only 2
inches, but it's high enough they can't reach it. It’s plastic so there’s less
change of them injuring themselves, or anyone else. "
"How
long patients are kept down here?" inquires Detective Ramirez.
"Sometimes,
a patient may only spend a week down here, while others may never leave.”
"How
many patients right now?" asks Detective Stetson.
"Only
one, and he is only temporary," states Vladimir. "Well, we hope he's
not permanent."
"What
did he do?" asks Ramirez.
"He
stabbed an orderly with a pen in the neck," states Vladimir. "It was
a mix up in his medications that lead to the incident, but we're keeping him
here down here a week for observation."
"So,
the rest are empty?" asks Stetson.
"Yes."
"If
full, how many guards are on duty?"
"Four
overhead, and two at each end," explains Vladimir. "Also, if need be,
there's a system that can fill this room with a sleeping gas in extreme
emergencies."
"Why
so much security?" inquires Ramirez.
"We
have held people of interest for DOD, CIA, and other agencies in the
past," replies Vladimir. "Along with a few infamous criminals for the
FBI." He pauses before adding, "It's been tone down because we've
only used this room for minor incidents."
"Doctor!
Doctor!" shouts the single occupant in the room. "Come quick!"
Vladimir
walks to the last cell on the right hand side. Inside is an elderly man wearing
the cotton blue overalls and rubber shoes with no laces sits on the bed, his
hands trembling as he stares at the ceiling.
"Yes?"
asks Vladimir as he glances at the ceiling, and sees nothing.
"You
might want to go to the fourth floor. I have a feeling you are needed,"
whispers the patient in a very shaky voice.
"Why?"
"Someone
is about to die."
"How
do you know this?" Vladimir asks concerned and confused at the same time.
"A
man told me," calmly replies the patient.
"What
man?"
"A
man with red eyes."
Vladimir
rushes towards the security door with the detectives in tow, a look of concern
visible on his face. The guard unlocks it, and he sprints over to the other one
as the other guard holds it open.
"Everything
okay, Doctor?" asks the guard.
Vladimir
ignores him as he and the detectives run up the stairs. His hands begin to shake
as he stumbles to get his card into the reader. He begins to panic as the door
lock seems to not read the card, the red LED mocking him. He shoves the card
one time, and the lock clicks as the light turns green, barely echoing over his
heart that pounds within his chest. He yanks open the door, runs into the
lobby. A very tall and muscular black orderly is already heading towards him
holding restraints.
"What's
going on?" asks Vladimir.
"A
patient is making suicidal threats on the fourth floor," says the orderly.
"Anyone
up there?"
"Doctor
Henderson is along with two other orderlies," replies the orderly.
"Let's
go,” Vladimir orders as they rush over to the other side of the lobby, and step
inside the elevator
Time
to seem to stand still as the elevator counts down each floor. As the elevator
reaches the fourth floor, Vladimir steps off, and the orderly directs him to
the room. The door is closed, and Doctor Henderson is outside with a panic look
on his face with his black hair drenched in sweat as an orderly waits to his
right. The orderly, Johannes, who is easily over 6 and half feet tall and built
like a body builder, stands there with a broken nose, blood trickling down onto
his green scrubs.
"What's
going on, doctor?"
"
I was here to check up on the patient since he mentioned he's been having
terrible night tremors for the past week, and he snapped! " explains
Doctor Henderson. “He throw Johannes with one fucking hand against the wall,
and tossed Johannes and I out of the room before taking Henry hostage!”
Vladimir
pushes Doctor Henderson to the side, and peeks into the window. The room is a
complete mess. The bed is overturned, and the bottom of the mattress is soaked
in fresh blood despite the only injury being Johannes’ nose. The small table is
shattered into pieces against the wall opposite of the bed.
In
the middle of the room, Vladimir witness something that scares him down to his
very soul. The patient Andrew, who has been helping out in the kitchen due to
his good behavior, has a chef’s knife in his left hand pressed tightly against
Henry’s throat. Henry is already bleeding from a slash across his left cheek as
his brown eyes stare at the blade while tears stream down his cheeks. Andrew
looks at Vladimir and smiles. His green eyes begin to glow an eerie red color
as he presses the point of knife against Henry’s skin, causing a small trickle
of blood.
“Diaboli
sum, et in peccatis eius, adulterium hic visitabo uxorem ejus, et contra
abusus, et caro tua,” says Andrew in a dark, hollow tone, almost like a
whisper.
"What
did he say?" asks Detective Stetson.
"In
Latin, he said that he's the hand of Satan, and the orderly is going to die for
his sins of adultery with mistresses and abusing his children," replies
Vladimir as he slides a key into the lock, and unlocks it, confused why Andrew
is suddenly fluent in Latin considering during their sessions, Andrew had
trouble with common English terms. He feels sweat drip down his cheek at the
adultery being mentioned. He realizes that the orderlies are only armed with
Taster, they might need the detectives guns because they’re about to enter a
room where a man might die for accusations of cheating, He glances at the
detectives and states, "If you're armed, detectives, I would get your
pistols ready."
Before
anyone can reach Andrew, they all watch in horror as Andrew shoves his right
hand clean through Henry’s sternum, and out pops Henry’s beating heart in
Andrew's hand as he slashes the throat of Henry. Andrew pulls his hand back
through the now gaping cavity in Henry’s chest, and lets the lifeless corpse of
Henry fall to the floor. Andrew buries the knife into Henry’s back before he
takes a huge bite out of Henry’s heart.
Andrew
spits out a mouthful of blood before shouting, "The evil is upon us!
Repent for your sins! Death is coming!"
Vladimir
shoves the door open as the patient walks backwards to the window. The patient
rips off the steel bars covering the window, and tosses them violently at the
door. Vladimir barely manages to duck as the steel bars fly over his head, and
crash into the door, forcing it shut leaving only Vlad in the room with Andrew
completely unarmed. As the others tries to break the door down, Vladimir
watches in shock as the patient tosses the half-eaten heart as his chest.
"There's
no stopping the red eyes, Vladimir.”
Vladimir
rushes to the window as Andrew dives head first through the glass. He witnesses
as Andrew lands on the pavement, broken glass glittering in the afternoon sun
as blood slowly forms a pool beneath Andrew. Even at this height, Vladimir can
see the red glow in the deceased's eyes as they look up at the sky.
A
few minutes later, Vladimir hears something heavy land behind him with a thud
onto the floor as Detective Ramirez shouts, "My god! What happened?"
Vladimir
continues to stare out the broken window as a mass of people gather around
Andrew. Vladimir is about to say something to Detective Ramirez when he sees a
man with red eyes floating about a yard above the patient's body. The man
stares at Vladimir before vanishing into thin air. Vladimir watches in horror
as Andrew’s body spontaneously combusts, smoke covering the chaos unfolding
below.
As
the smokes rises past the window, Vladimir feels his body turn ice cold despite
being ninety degrees outside and the humid air blowing through the broken
window. Vladimir entire body goes taunt, unable to move any limbs. As he hears
someone with a shadowy voice cackling inside his mind “You’re mine!”, he
feels his body go ice cold like he is no longer in control. He is forced to turn
around and his mouth being moved as he hears the same shadowy voice whisper to
Detective Ramirez, "My soul is doomed for I killed the mother of my unborn
child created out of wedlock, and there's nothing I can do to prevent my
downward spiral,”. Vlad is forced to pick up the heart of Henry, and shoves the
whole thing in his mouth. As he swallows the organ, he feels a tingly sensation
in his chest. He takes one step forward as the room begins to spin violently.
He collapses to the floor, and feels warm blood run down his chin. The last
thing he remembers is seeing the same man with red eyes he saw this morning
standing in front of him.
