It Wouldn't Hurt...

It's one thing to know what you've done and pay the price with the thoughts of guilt eroding you away, but another to suffer the punishment of a crime you did not commit. There is no greater fear than to see yourself as the innocent man sentenced to death.

***

When I opened my eyes, everything was a blurry white. Exhaustion sapped my mobility and strength. Somehow, I had been taken from my home and into a white room with a plain white bed to match.  Something restrained my arms and when I struggled, I felt some chains. A strait jacket...

I was in a strait jacket. This was ridiculous. I was a perfectly sane, human being. Never before had I been diagnosed with any mental or physical disability. A buzzing sound made me jump when a male nurse opened the thick door. He sported a teal nurse outfit and had short slicked back brown hair. The smile he gave me was fake and he was as stiff as the rough fabric that made up his clothing.

"Good morning, Reymond." He said as he tried to sound cheerful.

"Where am I?" Was my immediate response as I pulled myself into a sitting position.

"Calm down, no need to get worked up now," He said. "You're in Winchester Asylum for The Sick." His voice was flat and lifeless.

I furrowed my brow as I tried to make sense of it all. "But why? I'm perfectly healthy. I don't belong here."

"It's time to take your medicine now." Completely ignoring my statement, he acted as though I was a child, barely able to comprehend complex ideas. Eyeing the small plastic container holding at least three different types of pills, I shifted uncomfortably. In his other hand he had a glass of perfectly measured water. "Hold still and open your mouth, please." The way he said it wasn't quite a suggestion, but it wasn't optional either.

I slowly frowned at him and was surprised to see fear flash across his face. Shaking my head, I replied, "No. I'm not taking anything. I want answers now."

The steely nurse watched me the whole time he set the glass on the small nightstand and took the walkie talkie clipped to his sleeve. "I'm gonna need assistance, over." Static distorted the affirmative reply before going dead silent. He turned his head to look back at me. "This medicine will help you, you'll have good dreams. Please, take it." I knew he was trying to coax me like one does to a frightened animal.

"I don't want dreams, I want my questions answered. Why aren't you answering me?!" I became distraught, afraid.

"There's no need to shout, Reymond. Use your inside voice."

His apparent lack of compassion made me angry. I stood up just as the door buzzed and more men entered. Three of them were well built while the fourth, a doctor, held a long needle at his side.

"We don't want more trouble, Reymond." One of the gruff men said sternly.
I didn't want the needle; not again.

Desperate, I pleaded, "...Deal. I'll, I'll make a deal for you." They didn't move so I continued. "If you answer my questions, I'll take the medicine. No tricks."

The male nurse sighed quietly. "Okay, Reymond. I'll answer your questions. You are here because..." His eyes searched the porcelain tile floor for a better way to explain. "You killed your sister and her children before setting the house on fire."

My jaw fell open in utter shock. Not Sarah, Jerry, little Jessica! NEVER! "You lie!" I shouted, struggling in the strait jacket. "I would never hurt Sarah!"

"You suffer paranoid Schizophrenia and multiple personality disorder. You don't remember because your other personality committed the crime. Stop moving like that, you'll hurt yourself." He tried advising me in a calm voice. How could he be so calm when I was in hysterics?

I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head again. "I don't remember because you're giving me false dreams. I don't need medicine. I'm sane! I'm sane!" No matter how many times I tried to tell them, they refused to listen.

Again, ignoring me, they said, "You promised, Reymond. It's time to take the medicine. You'll feel better, we promise. This will make you healthy again." The other nurses were spreading out, herding me to a corner. I was smart; I knew their plans and had to stop them and keep away from the doctor with that needle. I blinked rapidly before sidestepping from the corner. I needed my arms if I was to get free.

Like hungry wolves surrounding an injured deer, they caved in, steely eyes glinting and white teeth baring dangerously. They wanted my blood, my vital blood all to themselves. I looked down before drooping my shoulders in the tell tale signs of surrender. "...Okay...I'll take them. No tricks."

A wave of relief swept through the group and they backed off enough for me to breathe. The male nurse whom I couldn't find a name tag or any means of identifying him stepped forward with the medicine and water.

"But. I want out of the jacket." I added and saw the immediate look of refusal with something else. Fear, perhaps.

"You're not allowed t-" He started, but I had to interrupt if my plan would work.

"Please, I'm sore from it and I want to go down with dignity. Nothing more demeaning than a grown man having to be fed pills by another."

His hazel eyes bore into mine, trying to penetrate the wide, fearful and fawnlike eyes for months I had spent perfecting. It was during those few, tense moments he and I had a battle. Not a physical one for blood didn't fly, but one inside the mind. He wanted me contained, while I wanted out of here.

"Please? Please, sir?" I begged. "Please?"

I saw it. He tried to hide it from me but I caught it. The small hint of relent when he sighed and looked away, thinking.

"No tricks, I promise. Please?" I whined again; so close!

I swept my pleading gaze to the other men and heard one finally mumble, "Give the guy a chance. He seems to be telling the truth."

The male nurse's eyes snapped to the man who said it, frowning. "Don't you know what would happen if they found out, if he escaped..." He lowered his voice so I wouldn't bother to listen. He was wrong, but their sentences confused me. Who would find out? What would happen? Why me? They were treating me like I was a criminal! I wouldn't so much as hurt a fly and they accused me not only of harming, but murdering my sister and her children! It was absolutely unthinkable on my end.

Finally, he ordered one of the men to untie me. Relieved I thanked him and slowly stretched my arms. Like a wave, the men backed up or flinched, as if prepared for something. Their odd behavior astonished me. Now I was a dangerous animal to them.
Good. Because I was dangerous.

Especially when I was denied freedom. The male nurse handed me the pills which I popped in my mouth obediently. I grew almost excited when my hand wrapped around the glass of clear water, so much my hand trembled from joy. I remembered slowly lifting it to my lips before I saw it.

The very thing hunting me down.

A black devil of a wolf, growling at me with razor sharp teeth and piercing red eyes. Of course, no one could see it because he was a clever one. He waited when I was alone and prowl alongside my bed or chase me down the halls. He always had fresh blood dripping from his jaws and thirsted for more. His fiendish glare was all I could remember before the medicine took effect and my vision went black.

***

Liquid finally woke me back up when my lungs cried for air. My head throbbed and my throat was sore from coughing. Half of me was soaked in blood. I had to hold myself back from vomiting. The smell was so overwhelming, my skin became paler and I trembled.

Above me, broken light fixtures fizzed out and the entire area outside my room was in ruin. Pools of dark red blood made a twisted path down the long, foreboding hallways. It was completely deserted. I knew exactly who the culprit was, though why he left me alive remains and uneasy mystery. When I looked closer, I was horrified to see bodies of the dead patients, cops,  and nurses alike, stabbed with mere pencils, pens and other seemingly harmless utensils. Long, bloody claw marks broke the skin of their corpses and bite marks pierced their necks. I had to look away; the scene was horrific.

This wolf had manifested himself to more than just me this time. It tore down what was my only protection, my sanctuary.

As if sensing my realization, I heard his growl, mocking me from all corners of the room. He did all of this so I would suffer...

His bloodied claws tapped on the hard tile floor and my eyes darted to him, miserable and angry. His long, pointed ears aimed at me and his red eyes were wide and alert. For some reason, his tail wagged, as if he expected praise for what he had done. He even whined and approached me to be pet.

"Go away!" I yelled and slapped the floor to startle him, but he didn't budge and I only splashed blood every which way. He panted happily, his tongue lolling from the side of his mouth. I cursed at him repeatedly, once grabbing a pencil in my bloody hands and throwing it at him. When he didn't leave, I finally shouted, "What do you want from me?!"

The accursed wolf, the bane of my existence offered no words of reply, rather looking down in front of me.

Warily, my eyes followed his, resting on the pool of red blood. The light shone just right to where I could see my reflection. My eyes widened in fear and I quickly smeared it, trying anything to distort the terrifying image from my disbelieving eyes.

"No...No...No!"

I saw something I never wanted to see. Ever. It was me, but it was all wrong. My eyes were dull, grey killer eyes with insanity etched into the irises, my pale skin seemed sunken in, as if I were a ghost. My black hair was unruly, misshapen and stuck out in all places. The final piece to the puzzle of agonizing epiphany was my smile. I couldn't be smiling, not with everything that happened, yet my reflection proved the truth. My lips were bloodied and pulled back to show my once pearl white, perfect teeth now dripping blood. The liquid streaked down the corners of my mouth and a single drop distorted the reflection for only a brief moment before once again reforming into this demon on earth.

This made no sense...no, I made no sense. I closed my eyes and turned my head away. It couldn't be...

I was the wolf.

The entire time it was me, haunting what life I had, taking my time until I was entirely isolated before revealing my true self.

I was a monster.

My body trembled from painful sobs and I covered my eyes with my hand. How...how could I have possibly done this wicked sin? Innocent blood stained me; people who had families, lives, a future. I broke their threads of life to satisfy my own envy and wrath.
`

"What's there to cry about?"

Jolted from his thoughts, Reymond opened one fearful eye timidly.

His reflection boldly stared back at him, as if displeased. "Why can't you see? I freed you."

"At the cost of so many lives...I hurt them. You hurt them." Reymond accused in a meek, quiet voice.

Laughter mocked him again. "So? They're dead now. It doesn't matter now, does it?" Rey replied, amused.

"But it does matter!" Reymond cried before he was interrupted again.

"What does it have to do with you, Reymond?"

That stumped the traumatized man; thinking proved more difficult when Rey spoke to him so prominently.

"Well?" Rey pressed. "What does it have to do with you?" His visible grey eye gleamed in the reflection. When Reymond didn't reply, he continued, "I'll tell you what it has to do with you. Nothing. They're dead. They can't blame you. This blame, fear, guilt...It's all in your head." He tapped his left temple to prove his point.

"Their families, friends...They'll blame me." Reymond pointed out.

"Not if you hide the bodies. Bury the evidence. They won't even know you killed them." Rey replied smoothly, confidently. In a way, these chilling words gave relief to Reymond. He didn't want to be persecuted anymore by other people. "What does it really have to do with you, Reymond?" Rey asked again.

Slowly, Reymond removed his hand from covering half his face. One eye was timid, the other deadly. His lips were parted in fear, but the other side pulled a devilish smile. "...Nothing?" He asked his own reflection hopefully.

Rey grinned in approval. "Nothing."

Looking back down at his hand covered in drying blood, Reymond renewed it with the blood on the ground and studied it. "...I suppose..." He sighed and smeared the blood across his face, over one eyelid and down the cheek like war paint. "It wouldn't hurt to take a few more."

All fear kicked out, Reymond's face became one emotion; unstable. Calm for one moment, outraged the next.

Rey laughed at Reymond's reply and Reymond joined in, smearing more blood across the floor like a well worn paintbrush.

Thus,

descent into madness.

Fin.