Bedlam
Chapter three
...To un-explain the unforgivable,
Drain all the blood and give the kids a show.
By streetlight this dark night,
A séance down below.
There're things that I have done,
You never should ever know...
This is how I dissapear - My Chemical Romance.
The villagers started to become restless, pitch forks and weapons were held in gripped hands.
They had heard the creatures fierce snarls all the way from there, it was pretty hard not to notice the horrific roars it was giving off.
Parents had listened to their children recite tales of ghouls and ghosts haunting the abandoned asylum, but most folk had brushed it off, calling them rumours and pranks.
That was, until they heard the tortured screams for themselves.
The village was a little way away from the asylum, a mile or two, but close enough to be impacted by this beast.
Who knows what the monster would do when it escaped? They had to act, and fast.
Just as the villagers had come together in the village hall to discuss how to tackle the situation in the asylum one early morning, they had heard the crash as the asylum walls gave way on the second floor.
They knew that the monster was escaping from her cage.
So rounding up the strongest young lads of the village,and all the able hands, they gathered all the weapons they could.
John ran ahead of the group, frantically moving in and out of the trees towards the building he had visited many times before since he was little.
He had watched the girl all her life, the only person who kept her alive in the first place.
John cried out as he reached the building – seeing that the wall had indeed given way, part of it crumbling and falling to the ground in heaps.
He sprinted around the far side of the building, seeing that the back entrance had been ripped apart by something. He moved through it, sprinting up the dark stair case to the second floor.
The door was still there, as hard as iron could be, still intact.
John whipped out the key he had found al those years ago, and wrenched open the heavy door only for despair to fill him up again.
Isabella wasn't in the room, she must have jumped out the hole in the wall.
John quickly ran over to edge, leaning over towards the ground.
No she wasn't there, surely a jump from this high up would have broken a lady's ankle?
But there was no sign of the girl.
John turned back, running a hand through his hair in frustration.
He himself was only twenty three, not yet old enough to know what to do in any situation like this.
He had taken care of the "crazed girl" since she had first arrived, ever since he had heard her sobbing when he was only eight years old himself.
He had been picking his way through the forest, exploring, when he heard the awful wails emitting from this very room.
John had been coming back ever since, he had been careful not to reveal himself to Isabella, scared that she might reject him…he felt silly after thinking that.
It's not like she had a choice to reject him, he kept her alive, she probably didn't even know what another boy just above her age looked like.
He felt so lost at that moment, where could Isabella be?
Isabella…his Isabella.
He had heard the village's gossipers talking about her when she first was placed in the asylum, hearing her name only by eavesdropping.
The sound of foot steps reached John's ears. The mob was approaching, he had to get down there before he was caught up here. Who knows what they would do if they found out he hand been helping "the crazy girl."
Retracing his steps, John found himself edging around behind the mob, and then joining their ranks like he had just run up from behind to join them.
"The creature isn't here, that's obvious, so I say we hunt it down!" the village butcher shouted out to the mob – looked like he was leading the group, John thought bitterly.
Of course he recognised all the men around him, trying to hurt Isabella, but he had never mentioned his care for her to anyone, and he wasn't going to start anytime soon.
"Dear lord! Is that – is that…a lion?" someone called out.
The whole group swivelled round to look at the carcass left on the floor.
Somebody started retching into a bush.
"The creature has fed off the lion!" someone stated. "She's gone deranged!"
They referred to Isabella as a creature, not as a human, but as a creature on the same level as pigs in muck – John was disgusted by his companions.
The village hunter squatted down by a tree.
"It's left tracks," he stated after a moment of examination. The hunter pointed towards the ground. "Footprints."
"Well what are we waiting for? Let's get going after her!"
There were murmurs of agreement from all around John, everyone but himself.
And yet, he felt himself moving forwards with the mob as they entered the forest again. He felt like he was in a trance. Why was he even doing this? For closure?
"Johnny lad!" a familiar voice said from behind him, as well as clapping a hand to John's shoulder.
John turned around to see a close friend of his beaming back, but his face hardened all the same.
"Damien." John nodded whilst looking at the brown curly haired male, whose face had a childish quality in it.
"Aw, c'mon Johnny boy! We're going on a bear hunt –" Damien burst into laughter at his own joke as John walked by him, looking at his friend coldly.
"This is no bear hunt Damien, this is man slaughter."
"Good one," Damien brushed his comment off as a sarky joke, not knowing John meant every word he said. "Can't let loonies out? Can we now?" Damien whistled.
But then a sound stopped the mob in it's track.
Someone had whistled back.
Damien looked confused, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion.
He whistled again.
A sweet noted whistle returned his call again.
It was no bird, but it sounded like a persons voice, but again, it seemed such a trilling whistle it couldn't possibly be a human's.
"It's coming from that direction," the hunter pointed North – East to where the mob was standing.
"Spread out!" the butcher ordered, and strangely enough, none of the mob moved an inch.
The whistle had captivated them all, entranced them. They all knew it was no song bird…but what was it?
The butcher grabbed the carving knife out from his belt and moved towards the direction of the noise anyway, not caring that his companions were frozen.
But soon, more men snapped out of it and followed the plump figure.
John and Damien moved forwards as well, John only moving forwards out of curiosity.
Was it Isabella who had made that noise?
Oh God – he hoped not. If she had, she was leading them right to her.
The group stopped at the trunk of the largest oak in the whole village. All the men craned their necks and looked high into the branches, shielding their eyes to get a better view.
"Whistle again Damien," the hunter ordered.
Damien repeated the breathy whistle that sounded tainted compared to the others.
The whistle was returned yet again, it was definitely coming from the tree.
But whoever or whatever was making the noise could not be seen.
And suddenly – the whistle was cut off half way through.
Everybody's ears strained against the silence as they listened for movement in the tree.
And that's when the most beautiful, extraordinary girl dropped down from one of its branches, her tattered dress flaring slightly as she landed on the forest floor.
"Isabella," John breathed.
Aha! Weren't expecting that, were you?
Longest chapter so far, I think.
Thank you so much for your reviews, they really mean a lot to me.
Next chapter could possibly be Isabella's view on the mobs actions - kind of thing.
But I'll make sure that it is good enough to read before posting it, thanks for your time!