For Prompt #6. This is actually the alternate storyline of a story I'm already making/already made. I wont' tell you what it is, so I'll just continue onward with the prompt.
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I was so tired, but I had to keep moving. After finally breaking down that door, I only had a few more steps to go. The chain wrapped around my wrist might as well have been an anaconda because it was constricted me.
Even so, that being my only pain is a hell of a lot better than what I used to be. I'm so exhausted and near powerless. I'm almost completely dehydrated, I haven't had water in almost 2 days, and the last thing I ate was a loaf of bread this morning that had obviously been stepped on.
The only thing keeping me going, other than this monster that people say is possessing me...Is the love I bear for her. Ever since she was born my life could never be swayed into despair, not even in a place like this.
Only after I took 5 steps did I realize 2 things. One was the blood dripping from my face, the other was that I was close to freedom.
My vision went from blurry to dark, and that was only before the drugs started kicking in. I had to take them, even though it would impair me, I knew that if I hadn't that my body would not function normally. I was virtually addicted although it was only considered a dependency. But what else can you expect if that's the only thing that remotely keeps you alive?
I had placed my hand alongside the wall for support, then I saw another map. This angered me so! Curse it all, even though I could read English, my dyslexia only made it harder for me to find where I was supposed to be. Her room isn't very far from here, that little voice coming from within my heart told me that she was in the third door from the right. And directly next to her--that bastard!
I made it a vow to not only escape but to make him pay for even thinking about touching a hair on her head! But I could only blame half of him--who knows, maybe he's not a monster...Maybe the meds are warping his mind like they are doing to me, or maybe its that, that thing! They call them "phantoms," some call them "demons," and I know certain people call them "dybbuks." Whatever, the only language I ever cared about was Russian and English!
I unlocked the door and there he was...Patient #726, otherwise known as Mikael Hammerstein. He was just sitting down, both hands clasped in a single fist, thumbs pressing against the center of his forehead! He looked up at me and growled, "Why?" His charred throat made a gravely sound as his thick breath made the dusty particles of the air rapidly move from their once stagnant alignment.
"Because I--" I instantly shot back, taking the chain in my hand preparing to do something vile but I couldn't!! I just couldn't! I felt sympathy for him, the sorrows I had for myself, for Ciel, and even for Misty...My beloved yet deceased wife. I shared those feelings, the cynical aura of hatred and sorrow, I extended those gashes, those tears, even to him...A violent criminal.
But I had to swallow that sympathy, to boil it in the simmering waters of my rage until it was no more, and I charged at him, wringing the chain around his neck as we struggled against one another. Eventually I threw him to the ground with my hands pulling a chain that was noosed around his neck and then I froze. I froze when I saw a shiv in his hand that he was ready to plunge into my chest and I froze with wonder at how he refused to take my life. "Stop this madness, Michkov!" he bellowed in German, a language I had not known so well but well enough to make out what he was saying.
Then he swallowed to change his language, "This is not what your daughter wants, neither what your frauline (forgive me if I misspelled that) would want, God rest her soul!
I looked at the blade only inches away from prodding my chest, feeling both his words yet the words that radiated from my vital muscle were pounding in my head, my wife's voice...Is this a hallucination from the drugs? Is this really what I am here for? Am I insane or just a sane man touched by a force beyond man's understanding? I had no time to think...I released him from my grasp and as I walked into the next room I whispered back to him "You need to get out as well. As much as I hate you, as much as you disgust me, you must leave...Better me than you? Not. Not even the reciprocal."
I looked with what was left of my good vision to barely read the name "Ciel Michkov" tiled onto the door of the cage that held my dear daughter captive...Only to be struck by this anathema, this drug! The grim and dim of dark grey values flickered to a forest-green emulating that of night-vision and a tint of purple to match the shadows and I saw my hands and felt my legs shuffle at the behest of these drugs.
That voice became louder, although its whispers were intelligible.
With the last of my strength I found from God knows where, I inched my fingers to the doorknob to release her only to fall.
It must've been a beckoning from the devil for when my hand fell a boot met my face, turning my body completely over in its insuperable force.
"You again?" I wheezed through short, painful breaths. Officer Widel, the warden of my block. As violent as the beats he holds captive, and just as damn ugly. He placed that mask on my nostrils again, releasing a sedative to counteract the drugs. The vision that could have possibly been native to a cat turned into a misty white haze overcoming me.
I stared into the cold eyes of that charlatan as he told me for the fifth time "Mr. Michkov, your outbreaks are becoming a real pain!" then I heard his sidearm click against my temple. "Next time, I promise you, I will put you down."
-End
(TDE)
