Page 126 of Twisted Heathens

I clutch it tight, managing another nod despite my body trying to defy me. It feels like I’m being pulled in two directions, ripping my entire psyche apart straight down the middle. I stare at him, wracked with uncertainty and a heavy dose of panic.

“Don’t worry about a thing, it’s planned out for you,” Rio informs me, his words going straight over my head despite the immediate alarm bells. “I’ll have a guard testify, say you stole the card from him. Might even rough him up a bit, make it believable. Schizos can be so unstable, you know. I’ll take care of everything, Brooklyn.”

Why?

Who are you?

Why are you doing this?

Questions rise to the surface like demons refusing to drown and I shove them aside, ignoring the terror of reality. This is my chance and I won’t waste it. No matter what pieces on the chess board are carefully manipulating me, a clueless pawn.

We take the steps to the roof with solemn proclamation. Like the grim reaper guiding his victim, Rio hides from sight and gestures to the camera. Counting down the seconds and giving me an encouraging nod as the red light blinks out.

“It’s time.” Rio gives me a long, hard look, as if savouring his victory. “Got anything you want to say?”

I stare at him, unfathomable pressure threatening to break my mind apart. Confusion and panic rise like an erupting volcano, but it remains locked out by the numb cloud coating everything. I should say something. Anything. Yet I can’t think of a single word.

“You played the game well,” he offers with a conciliatory smile. “Didn’t think you’d last this long.”

Game?

Rio laughs, plucking the card from my shaking hands and scanning it to unlock the exterior door. His hand strokes over my tangled hair, lips twisting with satisfied amusement.

“Nothing about this place is real, Brooklyn. Don’t you see that yet? It’s all just…” He pauses, grinning and searching for the right word. “An illusion.”

Freezing cold air rushes through the gap, entangled with voices that beckon me up.

“Off you go. I can’t wait to tell the others about this, I’ll be given a fucking promotion. You’ve proven mighty interesting. I’m glad Augustus decided to bring you into the program.”

“Augustus?” I choke out, barely above a whisper.

Something is screaming at me from deep inside, protesting against the slow realisation. This isn’t right, his words mean something. I should be fucking running, not taking an offer that is simply too good to be true. But everything is so loud in my mind, too exhausted and defeated to fight back.

“Oh, yes. Shame you’ll never meet him,” Rio goads.

Say it, Brooklyn. You know the truth. Say it.

“Y-you’re not a real patient. Are you?”

Rio strokes my cheek with something akin to pride, happy to boast his true status. “You’ve been fun, but it’s time. Goodbye Brooklyn.”

My feet move of their own accord, giving me no choice but to comply. I take the steps up, leaving the devil behind. Voices scream in my mind to keep going, we’re so close and nothing stands in our way anymore. Even though on a subconscious level, rationality is itching to escape. This is too easy.

Wind whips my hair as I emerge on the roof. The sky is marked in shades of indigo and purple, an angry sunset just disappearing on the horizon. I think of my mother putting herself in the way of beauty. She’s here with me now, arms open and ready to welcome me home.

I make it to the edge of the building, my feet nudging brick that melts into thin air. I’m glad it’s ending this way. With day fading into night, life morphing into death. Thing is, I’ve never lived in darkness. The darkness lives in me.

I take the bundle from my pocket and carefully undo the knot, endless letters falling all around me. Allison’s penmanship screams at me from the ink-stained pages, the words taking life in my mind as sharp voices whisper her hatred. I open the first letter.

You took my brother from me. I hope you rot in hell, where you belong.

It falls from my hands. The next one is marked a week later.

We had to bury him in pieces, that’s how you left him. Unrecognisable.

I scrunch it up and toss it over the edge, watching the paper fall through the air. Marking the path that I shall soon follow. They continue in order; week on week, for nearly ten months. Each spewing hatred that I most definitely deserve. Countless letters telling me to die and remove my evil stain from this earth for good.

I’m more than happy to oblige.

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