If anybody entered the hospital room № 52, he could have thought, that two schizophrenic girls were kept there. No uninvited guest could have thought that these two girls – both 17 years old – survived the hell itself, in the literal sense of the word. What they had seen and survived could have driven a grown-up person with good state of mind into madness, so no wonder that they were sitting on the floor – dirty, covered with sweat and somebody's blood and laughed with all their hearts loudly. They regained their self-control only at hearing the roar of police sirens and ambulance engines. Tiffany and Kirsty immediately stopped laughing and exchanged horrified looks – the last thing on earth they wanted was explanations at the police.
- We have to get out of here.
- Sure. Tiffany, do you know any back doors somewhere here?
- Yes, but they are on the ground floor. Police would surely meet us there. But we need to go downstairs.
- Jump out of the window?
- No, a fire escape was very close to te window in my room. It's very rusty, but we'll manage to get down. Hope the backyard is still empty.
That's what they did. In a few minute they already climbed over the hospital fence and hid in the bushes, watching what was happening in a distance. The hospital was drowning in chaos – people came or even were brought from the hospital – both patients and medical staff. It was impossible to say – who was dead or alive.
- Oh my God, what Channard did was a real massacre!
- Don't even tell me about him.
The girls sat for some time in the bushes watching the evacuation. For a long time Tiffany was eager to leave this place – was she saw was tearing her heart apart. But Kirsty seemed to have been waiting to see something in this crowd and Tiffany couldn't guess what.
- Let's go, Kirsty. They can catch us!
- Go, Tiffany and I'll stay here.
- What? I'm not going anywhere without you!
- Listen, I have to go there…
- Why should you? Police and medics are there. You're covered with blood. You'll be taken to the police and they'll interrogate you.
- Don't worry – there is such a mess there that nobody will pay any attention to me. If you wish, wait for me here.
- Ok…but be quick, please.
- I promise.
Kirty started crawling to the evacuations place. Her eyes searched for the place where the police laid dead bodies. The survivals were evacuated first – the dead were lying at the distance. Kirsty went out of the bushes and started wandering among the corpses. This view surely wasn't for her eyes – Channard had cut them to pieces – but Kirsty tried to be strong.
Finally she saw the body of a fair-haired boy – he looked somewhat 12 years old – and saw a deep wound in his chest. She recognized him at once – this boy was that demon with chattering jaws. Kirsty's heart gave a start – she looked a bit further and saw two corpses lying nearby – a fat man with knitted eyes and a beautiful woman with a stab wound in her throat. All three of them had been cenobites.
- But where is one more body? – Kirsty's whisper was astonished.
She walked all the place around trying to find one more body – she knew, although she couldn't see – that there should have been one more body. He had no chance against Channard.
At hearing steps behind her back, Kirsty lurked to the bushes. A policeman and a doctor came up to the three corpses and a doctor said, pointing at them:
- These three remain unknown. They are not patients. Just take a look at their clothes.
- And you have not a single guess, who they are and what they were doing in the hospital?
- Not a single one.
- Ok, but we'll know as soon as the fourth will come to senses. We'll definitely interrogate him as I won't be surprised that they are some kind of sectarians guilty in this slaughter.
- It won't take long – he is in critical state. He was taken to the hospital and if we get lucky he'll be able to speak again. But still – I'm not sure if he survives such a blood loss.
Kirsty couldn't listen anymore – she shivered, eyes were filmed over with tears, heavy vertigo allowed her to stand only with some effort. Somebody's hand touched her shoulder.
- What took you so long? – Tiffany saw her face, covered with tears. – What's the matter?
- Nothing, I'm ok…let's getting out of here.
IN TWO DAYS.
Kirsty was lying in a small room she rented until that moment, when her father decided to move to Frank's house. Tiffany already phoned her aunt form Liverpool and explained all the misfortunes that had happened to her (skipping some devilry, of course). Her aunt, who had hardly fainted at hearing all this, came immediately and took her niece to her house. Tiffany found her home, but where Kirsty could go was still undecided. The only thing that Kirsty knew for sure was that she wouldn't leave anywhere until she sorted out one unfinished business.
Many hours she spent trying to find the hospital where the victims of the Channard's case could have been taken to. But finally she lost her patience and she decided to visit all the nearest hospitals herself. His state was critical – he couldn't be taken somewhere too far. She didn't know why she was doing all this – but some sixth sense told her that she just HAD to do it.
The same evening in a London hospital.
- Could you help me?
- Yes, of course.
- You see, some people were brought to you…victims from…
- Channard's asylum, right?
- Yes, I'd like to know whether any of them were brought here…from my friends, you know, I was told he was brought to some hospital and I don't know to which one of them.
- Ok… - a plump woman pulled out a thick file. – What's your friend's name?
- See, I don't know his name.
- What do you mean?
- Well…see, I didn't have time to ask…I only know he's a man in his late thirties, short dark hair, bright blue eyes…
- Miss, you've just described a half of our patients, can you be more precise?
- Well… - Kirsty got embarrassed. – his state was critical, he was nearly at death's door, great blood loss.
A woman just gave a sigh – we have plenty of such patients.
- When he was brought he was wearing a quiet extraordinary leather robe – the last thing Kirsty could have recollected.
- You mean the unknown patient no. 344?
- May I see him?
- No, it's impossible.
- What?
- It's not allowed. Police say until he won't be identified, no visitors are allowed.
- Please! I owe my life to this man! He saved me!
A woman looked intrigued.
- I only have one glimpse of him – that's all. I won't even enter the room. Please!
- All right. Only I never met you, ok?
Kirsty nodded. A woman showed her the way.
- Second floor. Room 344.
Kirsty was lucky to find, that it was an attending time, so there were so many people at the hospital that it wasn't hard to mingle with the crowd and make her way to the room.
Occurring at the other side of the door, Kirsty hesitated to turn around. She stood for a minute or so, looking helplessly at the door handle. But she was short of time, so she pulled herself together and turned around….
A small room with a big bed, and some device for artificial pulmonary ventilation. Kirsty could understand this from the tubes driven to the nose of the patient. Kirsty had hardly fainted at seeing him again.
- Oh my God… - she whispered with her lips only.
He looked like a deadman – pale and faded. But for hard panting breath and a noise from the device marking his heartbeat, he seemed really dead. His throat was bandaged.
Kirsty came up to the bed and sat on a small chair standing near. She couldn't look away from the face that scared her so much previously, disfigured with pins and scars. But now he was a man who couldn't scare her.
Kirty looked at him and thought – he survived meeting with Channard, it wasn't just a stroke of luck. He is alien here – he was born in another time, here he is all alone. Even if he gets better nobody waited for him here – could he manage to live in this world? Or could he forgive himself for all the things he did in hell? Somehow Kirsty was sure that he wouldn't – he won't. As soon as he gets better, he'll commit suicide. This thought was hurting Kirsty more than anything else.
A couple of tears fell on the shawl. Kirsty decided to leave – her staying here made no sense to her. Raising she suddenly felt that somebody was looking at her.
These eyes again…These heavenly blue eyes – full of pain, but still so heavenly blue. Eyes of an angel.
- I….I… - Kirsty didn't know what to say, his eyes said much more than she could say – all emotions and feelings, and the greatest of them was gratefulness to this little girl, who had returned him his life. She was saint for him now.
Kirsty took him by the hand, than put her head on his chest. He saved her, and now she'll take care of him. It will be hard, many problems were waiting for them – but together they'll conquer them all. They did it once, and do it again if it's needed. An innocent child and a demon, a brave girl and a martyr with eyes of an angel. The hellraisers.