Warning: this contains distressing scenes

Picks up an hour before the phonecall Patrick received at the end of the last chapter

An hour earlier

Shelagh yawned as she awoke. Her headache was even worse than when she'd fallen asleep. Her chest hurt. Her eyes hurt. She felt groggy. Something was wrong. Every nursing instinct in her flared up with warning bells.

Her eyes flickered open hoping to see a nurse or doctor walking past her door. But it was closed and the blinds covering the small square of glass were drawn.

'Good sleep Mrs. Turner?' A voice sounded to her right. Turning her head she winced as pain seared through her neck. That jolt brought the complete agony she was in into sharp focus-why wasn't her medication working anymore? A man stood beside her in a too large clinical coat and sporting a stethoscope that looked out of place around his neck. He was familiar but through the fog of pain his identity was lost to her.

"Who are you?' She asked shakily. Every breath hurt and she struggled for each one. 'You're not my doctor.'

'No. I'm not. It's surprisingly easy to find a spare coat though. Suits me don't you think? It made it far easier to get in here and carry out my plan. How's the pain?' He asked innocently. Shelagh frowned-who was this man?

'What have you done?'

'Scissors are remarkable contraptions aren't they?' The man said seemingly not hearing her weak speech. He pulled a pair out of his pocket and span it around on his finger. Stepping forwards until he was nearly touching her her flicked them open. Her eyes widened in fear. She tried to move to stop him but her body felt like it was on fire. 'Such a pretty thing aren't you. Such fine honey coloured hair-I'm glad you stopped wearing that habit. This is far too nice to waste on you.' He leant forwards and calmly cut a lock of her hair.

'Who are you? What do you want?'

'I found something else out about an hour ago. Scissors aren't just good at cutting hair.' He smiled blissfully as he trailed the scissors down her neck and around the edges of the burn before trailing across her clavicle. The blades slid up and down her jugular. She barely dared breathe. 'So beautiful. Scissors are fairly good at cutting tubes too.' He bent and picked up several severed tubes. The nurse in Shelagh recognised them instantly. Her oxygen. Her pain medication. Her nutrients.

'Why?' She croaked.

'My brother died in a fire you know. Well he died the day after it actually-smoke inhalation. You never suspect the smoke.' He laughed. 'I know what they treated him with. I knew without them he would have died far quicker like you should have. You are more stubborn than he was. Then again he should never have survived the flames themselves. Damn man always had to better than me, he couldn't let me have that one victory.'

'You killed your brother.' Shelagh was panicking though her face showed no hint of it. What had she got herself into? It was bad enough having this man cut her hair and caress her with the blade of scissors but this-he was literally a killer. And by the looks of it she may be next. She desperately tried to remember him, she knew he was known to her.

'Of course I killed my brother. His wife was so beautiful and he wouldn't give her to me. Martin he'd say. What is wrong with you? Why are you so twisted? What did he know the idiot? Well I'm with her now. Just call me Henry VIII. We have two sons. Tommy and Bernard. Okay maybe I'm better than Old Henry.' He laughed at his own joke. 'Bernard was born yesterday, we named him after you. Isn't that sweet. And then there's Ivy. My good for nothing little brat of a step-daughter. She seemed so stupid. Or so I thought. Who'd have thought she'd have started a fire of her own. I'm so proud. It's why I agreed to name my son after you. You saved her and now she can go on and grow under my tutelage.'
'You're Ivy's stepdad? All she wanted was to be loved by you.'

'And now she is. Which is why I can't possibly let you tell anyone what happened. Personally I've impressed myself with my plan considering I've only been working on it for about 4 hours. It didn't take long to work out the pattern of when the nurses pass by and come in here. With this coat and the stethoscope nobody questioned me lurking. Once I realised that your husband and those infernal nuns were gone for the day I made my move. I locked the door and drew the blinds. Who'd find a doctor walking into a patients room for a private consult suspicious There's nobody coming to help you. So then I cut your tubes. You didn't die quick enough for my liking. I knew you too were suffering from smoke inhalation-the nurses said you'd reported having a headache and a breathless cough. Classic signs. On top of that nasty case of tuberculosis you had a few years back you should have died quickly. But no-evidently someone up there is looking out for you. But no matter. I guess I'll just have to take matters into my own hands. Literally. Actually I'm in a good mood today and it's made me feel rather kind so I'll give you the choice-would you like to be strangled to death or smothered with your pillow?'

'You're insane.' She gaped, now visibly panicking. Once more she tried to move and was almost sick from the pain. She was stuck. She was going to die. She'd never said goodbye to Patrick or the children.

'I love my family. I'm sure you'd do the same in my situation. Such a fine young son you have and your daughter is just precious. Oh time up I'm bored of waiting for you to decide. My hands already hurt from doing to much it is.' He yanked one from under her head and pressed it over her mouth, careful to not cover her eyes.

He wanted to watch the light die in them.