SM owns Twilight.

Ham and Satan own my soul.

All mistakes are mine.

Asylum

Chapter Eight

"Are they treating you okay?" Angela asks, sitting across from me and fidgeting with her bag as she looks around.

Today is Wednesday, which means family day. It's my third so far, and Angela has come to see me every time. Her smile, the one that used to warm me and make all the bad things disappear, is tainted now. Instead, I only see questions and hear alarm bells in my head. Now, I only want her to go away.

"I get three meals a day and all the happy pills I want." I shrug. "Nothing has changed."

"I brought you another book." She reaches inside her bag with a smile. "It might have some answers you want."

"Did you bring me answers?" I lean against the table. She can bring me every book in the world, but I want them from her―her words―not some written legend.

"It's complicated, Bells. I can't tell you everything." She sighs. "I'm not allowed."

"So you keep saying." A humorless laugh bubbles up within me and I begin to sound unhinged, like Jessica. She's our resident whack-job. The one who likes to have sex with corpses.

She says the colder the better. Nothing like a stiffy from a dead guy.

I shudder and turn back to Ang. "I don't trust you."

"I'm still the same Angela. Nothing has changed." She reaches for me and I lean back, afraid of her touch.

"Everything has changed," I snap.

"I am sorry." She looks away, pushing a book toward me. I run my fingers over the old leather that binds it. It's deep red with a satin bookmark and an ancient looking silver clasp that holds it together.

"For what?"

"That he happened to you." Her eyes drift back to me and I can see the fear behind them. It's gone when she sees my fingers on her book.

"Charlie is doing better. Breathing on his own, but I'm sure you know that." She says, but I didn't. They don't tell me anything. Not unless it pertains to my well being.

"They keep telling me he isn't even real, you know." I change the subject, not wanting to talk about Charlie. "They say my medicine will make him go away."

She grabs my hand, refusing to let me pull away. "He's very real, Bella. Don't ever doubt that."

"Are you like him?" I look down at our hands, clasped just like they used to be anytime I was upset.

"He was once like me, or at least he could have been."

"Are you going to hurt me?" Her eyes snap to mine, wide with shock.

"No." A tear falls down her face and she smiles at me before the light above the door begins to blink.

"Will you come back?" I ask as she gets up to leave.

"Always." She moves around the table and pulls me into a hug. "I'll never leave you."

When she pulls away she slips a paper into my hand and leaves without another word.

"I'd like to welcome Isabella to group today, ladies."

I get tentative waves from the four other women in the room. Each one wears the same outfit as me. White slacks, a blue button up that is two times too big for any of us, and slippers.

It looks more like a sleepover than a group of crazy women together talking about their problems.

"Would you like to tell everyone a little bit about yourself?" Alice looks at me and I stare right back.

"I'm clinically depressed and I see a man that you tell me isn't real. Anything else?"

"Isabella," she chides removing her glasses as I hover at the door, refusing to move inside.

"Alice," I mock. "I'm not talking about my family. You can kiss my ass."

She ignores my comments. She has since our first interaction.

"I want to know about the real you." She believes I say the things I do because I don't want to be here.

No shit.

This is my life now. This place.

Alice knows all this. She knows my days are filled with talking about a man they believe I've made up and sessions they demand I attend. I take my pills twice a day now, and I obey their rules.

I eat their shitty food and I walk their washed out halls.

She knows everything I've done, or been accused of. She walks into our hour long talks with a folder five inches thick and tries her best to bring up memories I don't want to think about.

To ask me relive those memories, or to ask about my mundane day is insulting. Terrifying.

I wake up. I bathe. I eat. I sleep. Sometimes I whistle. Most days I stare at the lake beyond the property.

It sparkles and reflects the sunlight that never quite reaches our windows. I daydream about it. Touching it. Swimming in it. Being outside of this place.

There are days I scream and others where I don't talk at all. I've been here six weeks and I've only made one friend.

Emmett, my orderly. He's a bear of a man that everyone is afraid of, and he's the only person who doesn't look at me like I'm insane. His smiles are genuine, and when we talk, he doesn't judge me.

Unfortunately I know the women in this room. That doesn't mean they need to know me.

"Would anyone like to tell Isabella about themselves then?" Alice asks, deciding not to push me anymore.

I sigh and make my way over to Jessica, who has her hand on Lauren's thigh, and take a seat. I don't want to sit near Alice. Anytime I do, I can feel the cold radiating from her. Like death.

It doesn't help that her shadow moves in unnatural ways whenever I look at it. I've seen it's claws in our sessions. The small wings and the way it shrinks the longer she talks.

The further away from her I can be, the better.

"I won't bite," Jessica whispers, pulling my attention away from Alice.

"Esme?" Alice raises her brow and Esme, the oldest of the group, turns to me.

There is a doll in her lap and she pulls it closer to her chest before she starts.

"Would like to see my baby?" She smiles and I smile right back. I've seen her in our rec room. She rocks her doll there, singing lullabies to it until light's out.

"She's been talking to that baby every damn day. You'd think she'd remember she killed the damn thing," Jessica mumbles with her thumb nail firmly in her mouth.

"You shut the fuck up you dead humping bitch!" Esme growls and her eyes turn cold as she stuffs the doll under her shirt.

"Enough!"

"Breastfeeding?" Jessica giggles.

"Ew. No nipples!" Victoria pipes up from her corner of the room and pulls out her sanitizer, scrubbing her hands over and over.

"Don't forget to count to ten, Vicky." Jessica rolls her eyes and Esme begins to rock in her seat.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I ask ready to launch myself at Jessica. "Leave her the hell alone and go find a popsicle."

"You want to suck on her tits, too?"

"Isabella. Jessica," Alice warns. I grab the side of my chair and dig my nails in the sides as I try to calm down. To find a happy place.

Alice said to look for anywhere that makes you breath a little easier. All I can think about is hurting her and the smile it would bring to Masen's face.

"She killed her baby, you know? Stuffed him in her oven with carrots and set that sucker on fire." Lauren leans around Jessica to tell me, her crooked teeth showing as she smiles.

"Says the girl who believes God talks to her." I roll my eyes.

"Him and the orderlies. He says you're gonna die, by the way. That Hell is gonna swallow that dirty little soul of yours for trying kill your daddy. Did you enjoy it? Slicing Charlie open? I bet you got off on it." She smiles at me, rubbing her temples.

I'm out of my seat before I even think about it. I knock Jessica out of her chair and I leap at Lauren. Her throat is in my hands and she screams.

"Shut up!" I scream. I can feel her blood pumping and her heart beating under my fingers.

"EMMETT!"

Hands are on me, trying to pull me off Lauren, but I dig my fingers deeper into her flesh, willing her die. I laugh as tears fall down her face and she gasps for air, all the while wishing the light would leave her pale blue eyes.

I giggle when she slumps in her chair, but I don't let go. Fuck her for talking about Charlie, and fuck her for saying his name.

"Bella! Let her go. She doesn't know what she's saying. Just let her go." Emmett pries me off and Alice rushes to Lauren.

"He's gonna get you." Lauren sings from the floor.

"You bitch!" I lunge at her again but Emmett's arms are around me, dragging me out of the room.

"That's enough!" He yells but the anger inside of me is too strong. Caged for what feels like years and ready to take over.

"Let me go." I try to claw away from him, but he has me by the waist as he pulls my arms behind my back. "She started it."

"Doesn't matter." I feel a prick in my side just before the lights begin to fade and the walls darken.

"No." I breath out and shadows begin to move. Bigger this time. Much bigger.

Instead of staying against the wall they reach out to me, their long bony fingers trying to pull me away from Emmett's hold. I can feel them on me. Some cold as snow, others hotter than fire.

"NO!" I scream, feeling a tug on my leg and teeth on my thigh.

"Bella stop fighting me." Emmett's voice echos in my ear, but it's drowned out by the screams of the shadows as they close in on me.

One by one they begin saying my name, smoke puffing from their mouths. Smaller shadows leap from their eyes and take hold of my body. They climbing up me inch by inch, until I feel them on my face, pulling at my hair and whispering threats in my ear.

Each one takes the same form. Tiny wings, some broken, most torn, adorn their backs. Their hollow, mist filled eyes rake over my body, and serpent like tongues lick their thin lips.

"Get them off me!" I try to push them away, and cry out for Masen. The shadows laugh deep vicious laughs, and continue to creep closer.

"I think she's having a seizure." I hear someone say, but the shadows keep coming. Each one finds a new place to grab me. I feel each of their tiny claws as they dig into my flesh and I hear their laughter when I scream in pain.

"Hand her to me." I feel hands on me. Hands that remind me of Masen's. Soft and possessive, kind and demanding. They make me smile even as the shadows try to eat away at me. Their teeth slicing into my skin, opening me up over and over.

"Isabella?" Someone shakes me and the shadows scatter as if something has terrified them. Each of them run as fast as they can to get away from me.

When I look to the wall, the shadows I see are different. They cower away from me instead of feasting on my fear.

I feel a warm hand on my back and another under my knees holding me tight.

They aren't Emmett's. I know his arms, his hands. They've kept me from falling. Held me when I cried.

I look up, expecting to see Masen, but I only a pair of similar eyes and dirty blonde hair.

"Who are you?" I ask, feeling the light fade around me, only this time it's because of the drugs coursing in my system.

"You're safe," He tells me with a smile. "You can sleep. I've got you."

With his hand rubbing my back as he hums a song I've never heard, I close my eyes and drift away.

When I wake, dull grey light filters through the window of my room.

I rub my eyes and try to sit up. The fuzz from the drugs and the memory of the shadows begins to return like a slap to the face.

I can still feel them on me, like insects under my skin. Crawling and buzzing and swimming in my blood.

I begin to scratch at my arm, but freeze when I hear someone clearing their throat.

"Glad to see you're awake." My eyes go wide and my body rigid at the voice.

Emmett's the only person besides Alice who has been in my room. I haven't even seen Masen in here, even though I can feel him watching me when I try to sleep.

"Who are you?" I grab my pillow pulling it to my chest, feeling exposed. Open.

"I'm Dr. Cullen, but you can call me Carlisle." He reaches his hand out to shake mine, but I only stare at it. "I'll be overseeing your case until court."

"Alice is my therapist."

"Ah, yes. Well, she believes you need another set of eyes and ears, so to speak." He laughs and leans against the small counter in my room.

"What does that mean?" I narrow my eyes, wondering what Alice has told him.

"It means we'll be seeing more of each other, Isabella." His smile is disturbing and much too excited.

"I'd like to be left alone now." I shift, uneasy at how close he is. At how much I actually want him to stay.

"You're afraid of me?" He pushes the sleeve of his white shirt up and I catch a glimpse of ink peeking out.

"No." I lie. "I'm just tired."

"Of course. You've been through quite a lot recently." He drags a chair across from me and sits. "Would you like to talk about it?"

I tilt my head to the side as his eyes, green like Masen's, shift to my hand.

"Your scars?" He asks when my fingers begin to trace the line on their own.

I put my hands in my lap, clasping them tight. "They're none of your business."

"I'm afraid it is." He leans forward and my stomach flips. "I'm here to help you, Isabella. You don't need to feel so alone anymore."

"You don't know anything about me," I snap.

"True," he laughs. "You know what they say though?"

I just stare at him, wishing he would take the hint and leave me alone. There is something about him, something that reminds me of Masen. It has me too comfortable with him and I find myself wanting to reach out. To touch him.

To see if he feels like Masen, too.

He stands when I don't answer. I sigh in relief until I feel his hands on my shoulder and his hot breath on my ear.

"The Devil's in the details, Isabella." His lips touch my temple and I shiver, unable to speak. Unable to move.

I feel his lips curved into a smile against my skin and my body goes limp.

"You should get some rest now." With that, he flips off my light and leaves me, alone and terrified.

Did we enjoy the good doctor?

If anyone is interested in getting the shit scared out of them, Livie Liv, RaggDolly and I have created a Halloween blog.

We'll be writing prompts and a fic for your scaring pleasure starting October 1st.

TheUnholytrinityofhorror dot blogspot dot com