The Dungeon was as quiet as a graveyard. Kitty came to visit to keep an update of what’s going on, she was even more devastated by the news of Adrian being missing. No one was prepared to lose yet another friend, especially not the way they’d lost Dorian.
No one said anything, but they knew what the other one was thinking. Esmee was sobbing, curled up on the sofa, hugging her legs. Jordan was sitting behind his work desk, looking distant and carried the weight of the city on his shoulders. Kitty busied herself in the storage and behind the bar, bits and pieces reminded her of Dorian, but it was somehow better than dealing with the image of his broken body and the soul she’ll never get to see again.
There was one picture from the pile they took from the asylum that stood out. Friday had been holding on to it since she found it. It was why she decided to come back and see Adrian last night. It was a picture of a woman in her thirties, dark hair over the shoulders. She looked sad and tired in the picture, she reckoned it was taken at the time of her admission. On the back, it said, “1979 – 1984” might be the period of when she was treated, “Pneumonia Acute” and then a symbol of a cross beside her name “Madeline Uma also known as Maduma.” They’ve been consulted by a ghost, and Friday was contemplating what if one of the ‘deaths’ is the death of Adrian? She must get ready, the sign might come soon for her to take the journey, and she will not let her guard down in grief.
A Glimpse Of Nightmare
He couldn’t feel his eyelids, he wasn’t sure whether they were opened or closed. Everything was just black, then he started to feel his head was leaning on something hard and cold, it was metal, he touched it, metal bars. Something bound him to the bars, his hands were tied, the blurry vision began to clear. His head felt light, he was breathing heavily, he wanted to touch the place where it hurt behind his head but he was cuffed to the metal bars.
He found himself in a cage not bigger for a small bear, he couldn’t even straighten his long legs. He didn’t recognize his surroundings, no windows, no lights, just a few red lights in each corner of a large room filled with boxes and empty cages. The room was silent. He can hear sounds at a distance, not yet sure where it came from but it sounded like cutting, with an electric metal saw.
He wriggled his wrists to see if he could lose the cuffs, and then he remembered the person he saw last, could it be Colby Jones who was making that shrilling noise from another room on the right? He kicked the bars to test how strong it was, he was trapped. He told himself not to panic and tried to observe the room, see if he could figure out what kind of place it was.
Some kind of a warehouse, a door to the right and another door to the left. The box metal cages were stacked in twos, he counted, 14 in total, 7 stacks all of them placed against the walls. Large crates were also stacked in the middle of the room, not far from it, a pile of what looked like clothes. The ceiling was low, no ventilation, the place was stuffed and then he started to sniff the pungent smell. A kind of smell that brought back some memories, a tangy metal scent just like the day he found her mother all covered in blood.
The machine had stopped, he could only hear the sound of his nervous breathing. The door on the right clanked open, someone stepped out from it. Adrian pretended to be unconscious, his eyes were half opened, it was too dark to be noticed, but he can see quite clearly the person who came out from the other room was wearing a plastic coat, a plastic hat, a white apron, and a gas mask, the mofonian mask. The guy was carrying a large plastic bag, he wore rubber gloves and rubber boots. He can tell the man was tall and large built, he picked up the clothes on the pile and put them all in the bag. His apron was smeared with a dark stain, so was his gloves. He couldn’t see his face nor his eyes. The man stopped what he was doing and just stood. Adrian’s heart was racing. The man turned his head toward him, he slowly shut his eyes.
He can hear footsteps approaching and felt a breeze as he was walking in front of the cage. The smell of blood was now very distinct, he could almost feel the man staring at his face from behind the gas mask. The man took his time, ten seconds at most which felt like minutes. He heard footsteps walk away from him, the man continued putting the rest of the clothes into his bag. After he was done, his calm footsteps went further away towards the door on the left. Adrian took a peek. The man opened the door and immediately he could hear car engines and he saw flashes of lights. “Hey!! Take this to the burner!” his voice was low and heavy, and then he threw the plastic bag on the floor outside.
He closed the door and walked back, his heavy thud echoed in the once again silent room. He whistled his way back to the door on the right. An eerie tune of random melody faded away completely after the clank of the closing of the door. He hadn’t figured out where he was, he can only assume that he was inside the place he saw last before everything went black. It didn’t feel like a palace, the man was definitely not Colby Jones. He wriggled his wrists again, the cuffs grazed his skin this time, it was pointless. All he knew was, he’s now trapped in a place that felt worse than his nightmares.
**************
He fell asleep in the cage, when he woke up, there were three men surrounding him in the same attire as the man he saw earlier. He couldn’t see their faces behind the gas masks. One of them held a syringe and looked ready to give him a shot. Just when he was about to kick and shove, the other two men held him down. He couldn’t break free and whatever it was in the syringe, was now inside him. The moment they let go of him, Adrian had fallen asleep once again. “That should knock him out ’til tomorrow,” said one of the men. “Make sure he gets another dose before the party,” said another.