"I hope you had a nice visit," Clay said as he closed the door of Sara's room.
Sara stared at him. "I told him all about you," she shot. "he knows."
Clay nodded. "I am sure you did. That is why he will not be back to see you."
"You mother fucker," Sara hissed at him. "you can't do this to me."
"Really?" Clay asked sarcastically." Look around you. You are in my lair."
Sara flew at him like she was a puppet being controlled by a puppeteer. Clay held up his clipboard to defend himself. Sara dug one of her nails into his cheek and screamed curses at him. Clay threw her to the floor and when Sara looked up at him, she saw that she had been successful. Thin ribbons of blood were appearing on his cheek.
"There is only one way out of here," Clay said as he dabbed at the fresh blood with his handkerchief.
"Escape," she offered boldly.
Clay shook his head. "Death," he said. "by my hand or your own."
Sara glared at him. "What are you saying?"
"I am offering you a way out. You can take it.. or leave it to me. And I will come for you."
O~O~O
Gil did not know where to begin his search, but he knew he had to start as soon as he could. So he began with the most obvious information… Clay's background. With the help of Brass, he dug as deep as he could. It was all in vain, the scan was spotless.
"The man is as shiny as a new penny," Brass said, plopping a file down on Gil's desk. "He grew up in a Stepford neighborhood, had Stepford parents, and went to a Stepford school. He probably had a dog named spot and made straight A's."
Gil thumbed through the little information that Brass had uncovered and the lack of anything was a red flag. No one went through life without so much as a traffic violation.
"It seems as is Mr. Clay is a stand up guy," Brass continued. "He has done charity work, he donates to orphanages regularly and he has numerous published books. The bestselling one being called Mask of Self."
Gil turned to his computer and did a Google search for the book. A website was the first result and he clicked on the link. The first image that popped up was one of Clay, holding his book and looking as serious as he could. His pale face and high forehead made him look like a skeleton.
"So, what is your beef with this man?" Brass asked.
Gil sighed and leaned back in his chair. He had known Brass for a long time and it would be wrong of him to keep his friend in the dark. Besides, Brass could do things that he couldn't and he could be of serious help.
"I would prefer that this stay between us," Gil said, motioning for Brass to close the door.
"Mum's the word," Brass answered back, closing the door as requested.
Gil told his friend about taking Sara to see Dr. Clay and how her health had declined. He divulged Sara's accusations and explained what had happened to her. He also mentioned Clay/s comment about also having Gil committed.
"This man barred you access from Sara?" Brass asked, shocked.
"And not only that," Gil added. "the sick bastard is making damn sure there isn't anything I can do about it."
"This has to be some kind of violation. Poor kid," Brass said. "You know that she will get through this, right? I have seen her pull through worse and so have you. We'll get her out of this.
Gil agreed. "This is different though," he said. "I want to have her moved, but without Clay's consent that could be tied up in court for months. She could die in there before then."
Brass had an idea. "What kind of medication is she on?" he asked.
Gil racked his brain. "She is on some kind of mild antidepressant, but I have never seen these symptoms before with antidepressants. I can not seem to put my finger on it," he said.
"Do you believe her?" Brass asked.
Gil did not hesitate. "I do," he said. "I trust her."
"Then check the medicine," Brass said, raising an eyebrow.
O~O~O
Sara was slowly losing her mind and she knew it. She felt as if the grip she had once kept so closed on reality was now starting to slip. At night, screams echoed down the the acoustical hallway. They reminded her of nightmares and the very pit of hell. In the corner of her room, she rocked back and fourth. It had been three days since she had seen Gil, but she knew he was trying as hard as he could. She ached to see him again, it was the only thing that kept her sane. She pressed her hands harder over her ears, attempting to block out the cries of the insane. She was different from all the others at The Painted Desert because she was not crazy. Or was she? What if this was all one giant hallucination and she was laying somewhere helpless?
"No…" Sara said, shaking her head and rocking harder.
She was in present reality and she needed to keep telling herself that. She looked up at the ventilation duct. She had done her best, while standing on the silver toilet, to turn the small screws that held it in place. She had tried until her nails cracked and bled, but it was no use. They held fast. She glanced at the rubber sheet on the bed and contemplated Clay's offer. Was death really the only way out?
"You may as well do it you worthless little piece of sit," the voice of her father said.
Sara turned around and there he was. As bloody as the day her mother had killed him. Not only could she see him, but she could smell him. His breath reeked of vodka and gin. Sara felt her stomach flip.
"You… not real," she said as best she could.
Her father arched his eyebrows questioningly. "Are you sure?" he asked. "I know you can see me. Can you smell me? Think what you want. I know who you really are and so do you."
"You…. don't know...me!" Sara fired back at the apparition.
Sara took a deep breath and looked back at her bed again. It would be so easy to escape all of this. Then she thought of Gil. She would be leaving him behind. The door opened and Sara heard a new figure enter her room. Wasn't this room full enough? No vacancy.
"Sara," Clay's voice called. "can you hear me?"
Sara nodded and felt bile rise in her throat. She rose on shaky legs and reached the toilet just in time. The vomit tasted terrible. It stung her throat and the heaving made her stomach hurt. Some of it splashed out onto the floor and for some odd reason, she felt guilty about it.
"Always making a mess," her father said. "first it is the eggs and the it is the paint. Now it's your own fucking body fluids."
Sara shuddered as chills racked through her body. A loud, piercing tone seemed to bore through her mind. It sounded a little like tinnitus, but it was low and seemed to grow louder. Clay knelt down until he was eye level with her and held out bedsheet.
"Do it like this," he said. tying a slipknot. "This ends tonight"
O~O~O
Gil had found the medication and brought them into to examine them. To him, they looked like ordinary antidepressants. The actually matched an exact pill on the resource database. Carefully he ground the pills up and went through the PCR ritual. Carefully he popped the samples into the GCMS. While he waited for the results, he opened his copy of Mask of Self that he picked up from the bookstore. He felt that he was wasting precious time, but he did not have anywhere else to turn.
"Hey boss," Hodges snided as he walked in.
"Hodges I have something running in the G-spec. Can you keep an eye on it?" Gil asked.
Hodges did a salute. "Yes sir," he said.
Gil turned back to his book. The prologue started off interesting, but then he found that he couldn't put it down. Not because it was interesting, but for a darker reason. The book centered mostly around a theory that the personalities that people wore were masks, concealing who they really were. In order to find true peace and happiness, one had to strip away the mask of lies. It felt as if the answer had been in words the whole time. That his confession had always been here in plain sight. Gil sat down at the break room table, unaware that he had walked down the hall, and read.
O~O~O
Clay stared up at his beautiful, eyeless trophies. Soon he would be adding a newer,freckled face. Each face was carefully preserved and pressed, so as not to show any signs of wear or age. They all had their own unique story to them and everytime he took one down to admire it's beauty, he had a flashback. Flashbacks of running, wild and free, being true to himself. Inside he was not a man, but an animal. He imagined that his inner animal was a wolf. A dominate, all powerful wolf. One that would take no live prisoners and who always got what he wanted. A lot of people would blame his behaviors on nature or nurture, but he was mentally sound. He knew what he was doing was a risk, but he do not care. It was all about revealing the true self. In addition, his nurture was also not a contributing upbringing was above reproach and he was doted on by his parents. He was spoiled and sheltered until he went to public school. Once there, he learned that human nature was disgusting. All the name calling and fighting only revealed one thing; humans were animals.
"You're free," Clay said to the faces. "all of you."
And tonight Sara would be too.
O~O~O
"He isn't coming," Sara heard her father say to her. "He has left you in here to rot and die."
Sara pressed her hands against her ears and tried to block out her father's hateful words. Something inside of her wondered if he was right. Maybe Gil did abandon her. She had been mean to him in the past. A lot of the time her emotions got the best of her.
"You may as well do it," the image of her mother, who had just arrived, added.
Trying to resist her medication wasn't working. Every time she showed the smallest bit of resilience, her mouth was forced open and her nose was pinched shut. She knew Clay was behind this. He was the main one in control of medication.
"Do it just like he said," her father instructed. "do something right for once."
Sara shook her head, but the image of her mother brought her the rubber bed sheet. Or was that her grabbing it? Slowly and carefully, just as Clay instructed. She stood up on the toilet and fed the sheet through the vent. She began to make the slipknot.
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