A month passed, a month of sobriety… It damn near killed her, or so it seemed. It had been ages since she'd been this dry. But other than being a tad tetchy at times, she felt fine and knew deep down that the detox would do her some good at least.

Alyx spent a lot of time in her room listening to music which became a lot easier once she wasn't under high observation anymore. The nurses seemed to catch on quite quickly that listening to music was a good deterrent for her and that she valued it too much to try asphyxiating herself with the headphones. Observations were dropped from constant to every fifteen minutes.

She kept herself to herself mostly, feeling out of place amongst the lost souls who would often wander the corridors aimlessly back and forth. Occasionally, when she went out to the smoking area she would talk to an elderly female patient who had told her her name once but Alyx had forgotten it and felt too ashamed to ask her again, even though the old girl kept calling her Sue. She was an amusing thing really, convinced that she was the Queen –but her name was not Elizabeth, strangely- and really shouldn't be in this place referring to it as 'mad as a box of frogs'. The nurses were all swine in her opinion and she would see to it one day that they were all taken to the Tower of London charged with treason. Alyx was happy to go along with this and even referred to the old dear with her fake jewellery, shabby clothing and a very unattractive fabric bag which had seen better days as Your Majesty when speaking to her. Her Majesty looked quite fondly on the young girl with her piercings and black clothing and many lacerations, "One shall make you a Lady when we're out of here my dear Sue, and if anyone gives you any trouble, you just let old Queenie know and One will have them chopped up good and proper," Old Queenie was the only thing in this place that made her smile; her and Matthew.

She wandered round occasionally, keeping to the female only areas of the wards to familiarise herself with the layout, but always under the observation of a nurse. The building was old, but had been renovated in the last decade. In fact it had once been a hospital for the soldiers of WWI fighting on the front who had returned suffering with acute shell shock and so had retained a lot of the tell tale signs of its heritage; a few portraits of King George V hung in the corridors, and several extracts from Wilfred Owen's poetry were etched into gold plated plagues in the corridors.

Peering through a small window on a set of coded double doors which led into a locked corridor, Alyx noticed several large, metal doors beyond. The corridor on the other side of the door was dark, and every now and then a scream echoed from within. When she finally gained the courage to ask what was down there, one nurse had revealed that it held the hospitals more 'disruptive' service users… oh how she hated that term, call a spade a spade for God's sake. But that corridor gave her a nervous edge, especially when Queenie had taken a turn for the worse and was dragged kicking and screaming down there one night. She returned a week later, back to her old self but completely unaware of why she'd been taken to that horrible place. She'd forgotten how she'd lashed out at a nurse in a state of extreme rage.

They called it the Blake Ward, after the Romantic poet William Blake. Alyx remembered studying his work in college, he wrote such classics as Tiger, Tiger and Jerusalem. It seemed an odd name to give a ward on a psychiatric unit Alyx thought, especially considering how Blake was –in his lifetime- considered quite mad.

"So tell me, my dear," Queenie asked one afternoon as they sat together smoking, "Why have you ended up in a place like this?"

Alyx took a deep breath, a bit unsure if she should tell her the truth, but she had no one else to talk to about it who wasn't a professional, besides Queenie had held no qualms about telling the young girl all about her troubled upbringing which heavily involved an uncle who had become a little too close for comfort in her teenage years, "You're going to think this is well bizarre, even for a place like this Your Majesty, but… I was raped… by a ghost…"

Queenie passed a knowing glance in Alyx's direction as she took a long puff on her cigarette, nodding as she did, "I see, and no one believes that the demon still haunts you, yes?" Alyx looked up into Queenie's old, yellowing eyes in shock for a moment. Queenie smiled, "Don't think that just because you're here means that One wouldn't believe you, Sue. The demons lurk everywhere, and they enjoy the sins of the flesh just as much as anyone else, as you well know." She took another puff and handed Alyx her box of cigarettes to offer her one as she often did, "Was he a nasty fucker?"

Alyx nearly choked in laughter at the sudden use of profanity that did not usually come from the old dear, "I suppose so," she coughed, "In more ways than one," she gestured to the healing cuts on her cheek.

Queenie opened her large bag and began searching for something with the cigarette hanging from her mouth, "Ah, here we go, my love." As she removed her hand from the grubby bag, she held a black beaded rosary, "Take this Sue, wear it at all times, and when that nasty fucker shows up again, you tell him to fuck off!"

It seemed a bit wrong to take a rosary from a sick old woman, but Queenie was always so insistent on such matters, so she took it with a simple thanks.

Awaking with a start, she bit her thumb hard. The scream that followed was partly due to the pain, but mostly a result of the dream she'd had. Always the same dream, every night, a different scenario maybe but still the same in which he had found her. Even now she could hear him laugh, feel his touch as he dug his claws into her flesh, the taste of his lips against hers. She had woken just before he had attempted to...

As she grounded herself, holding tightly to the thin bed sheets and panting heavily she realised for the first time that she'd been sucking her thumb. Alyx had in fact bitten it so hard that it had begun to bleed and it throbbed painfully. She recalled sucking her thumb as a child; but was this a comfort reaction now or was it symbolic of something else that she'd dreamt of? The thought made her queasy and the taste of vomit was already in her mouth.

"Alyx? Are you alright?" The nurse asked as she entered the room. It was common practise to have a nurse stationed outside a bedroom as the patient slept, especially those with insomnia or night terrors. The light in the room was already on for Alyx no longer slept in the dark, for obvious reasons.

Alyx didn't hear her name spoken, but answered anyway, "I'm fine, just... just a nightmare," she said, hiding her bleeding thumb under the sheet.

"Another one?" the nurse asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"... No. I'm fine thanks."

"How about a cup of water then or something to calm you down?"

Alyx glanced at her sideboard which was firmly screwed to the wall and floor as was the bed for safety reasons, there was still a plastic cup there, "I've got some thanks. I'm cool, really. Just need a moment alone."

The nurse nodded, but Alyx noticed the quick check of the room the she made before turning to leave. She would undoubtedly go straight to the nearest computer to type up this 'incident'. This infuriated her, it always did. What was the point of it? So you've had a nightmare, big deal, what does she want a fucking medal? She picked up the cup and downed the last bit of water, You know, you could just give them something to write about, you could cut yourself... remember, like you used to? Felt good didn't it? Defiantly, she placed the cup back, "No, mate, fuck that... Not again, not ever again. You're not that messed up that you're gonna head down that road again." She whispered.

She threw her feet out of bed and placed them into her Hello Kitty slippers, once again thankful that the care coordinator had brought them and a decent set of pyjamas to the hospital for her. She walked to the mirror and glanced at the now dark brown scabs that decorated her face before turning her attention to the calendar. It was then that she remembered what day it was; tomorrow she would be having a consultation with Matthew about her progress and potential discharge. Perhaps she could even get out of here soon; and then back to... back to... Did she want to go back? A month without him had had a profound effect on her, even though he still haunted her dreams.

A sudden rush of nausea made her hold the wall for support and she looked in the mirror again, "My name is Alyx," she reminded herself quickly as she'd been instructed by Matthew whenever she felt this way, "My name is Alyx... Oh Ryan... Ryan... Ryan. Where are you?" she asked although she didn't know why she asked it, her free hand pressed against her stomach hard in recollection of the last thing he'd said to her; what were his motives in that? It didn't feel right; nothing had felt right since that moment Dr Harris had revealed the results of her second pregnancy test.

Ryan wasn't here, for some reason he hadn't followed her; had he just not been able to find her or was it more than that? Had it been like they'd said, that it wasn't really Ryan, just a regular guy? No, that couldn't be, not since the incident in the shower. He was there; he was as she'd remembered. There was no doubt in her mind. So if she couldn't run from him, what was she supposed to do?

No matter though, tomorrow she would turn a point in her life, then she would be able to make a valid decision.

"How do you feel your progress has been?" Matthew asked her. They sat together in a small room away from the ward.

"Well, what can I say? I feel okay generally,"

"You've made remarkable progress, Alyx, no one is prouder than me," She smiled a little and blushed at the compliment, "We may even be looking at an early discharge," he commented as he made several notes in her records, then he looked at her seriously, "So tell me, how do you feel about going home?"

Alyx shrugged her shoulders and played with her labret hoop with her tongue lightly, "A bit worried, but it'll be good to return to normality I guess. I think I'd like to see Gary Numan in concert when I get out," she smiled.

Matthew returned the smile and shifted his glasses up his nose, "Good choice. What about the nightmares?"

She shrugged again, "Still having them, but not as bad as before," she lied. In contrast the nightmares had become more graphic and realistic in their content but she dare not mention it in case it hindered her now.

"That's good news. But there's still one thing we need to get past,"

Alyx had been given her a diary a few weeks ago, a journal she could keep her secret thoughts in that Matthew encouraged her to read from when they were in session together. She'd written lyrics to songs she knew in there often and when asked to explain their significance it was usually a way to explain her own emotions but also a way of rationalising Ryan to herself: why he had done this, why he still haunted the Asylum, just the simple answers to his very nature and existence. The first page had always worried Matthew though; written in very large, sprawled letters Alyx had simply written, 'MY NAME IS ALYX. INTO THE ABYSS WILL I RUN'.

"My current concern is in the event of you distancing yourself too much from this, so much so that you don't acknowledge yourself in it," Alyx wasn't sure what he meant by this and the look on her face must've given this away, "It has been known for people to 'decide' that a traumatic event didn't happen to them, and so they can... forget. The worry though is that some people can forget themselves entirely, not respond to their name or similar things like that. In order to combat this, we need to discuss contact." He leant a little closer; Alyx no longer leant back as she used to which he was pleased about, "I told you once that the reason I'm here is to prevent you from distancing yourself from the male gender. If you truly want to fight this Alyx, then we should move onto physical contact."

"What the fu- Why?"

"Let's call it closure. Nothing major, just a simple touching of hands and no more to bridge the gap, How do you feel about that?"

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, "I think you're talking out your arse, personally,"

"What's worrying you about it?" Her eyes darted about the room in an unsettling way before she tried to speak, but the words just wouldn't come, "He's not here Alyx, he can't possibly be here. Ghosts don't exist, and even if they did they can't hurt us,"

"That's your opinion, and to be honest mate it's a bullshit opinion,"

"You don't want him to win do you?" she shook her head and Matthew cautiously extended his hand to her, "Then trust me."

It was a delicate moment, he knew that and he would have to watch her closely to make sure she didn't react negatively. The worst case scenarios would be if she cut herself as punishment or washed her hand afterwards. All too often had rape victims turned to self harm or obsessive compulsive behaviour to relieve their anxieties.

"Don't make me do this, Matt, please,"

Matthew didn't answer but left his hand suspended in the air waiting for her to take the first step towards recovery. Alyx gripped the front of her hoodie where the rosary hung behind the fabric, Dear God, give me strength… she prayed.

She gulped and licked her lips as her fingers flexed back and forth; she could already feel a cold sweat breaking on her forehead as her eyes fixed on Matt's hand. Alyx closed her eyes and quickly reached her hand to his and grasped it tightly as a grimace came to her face.

Nothing happened. She gingerly opened one of her eyes and looked around, Matthew was smiling, "There you see?" She almost smiled in disbelief and nearly began to laugh, but something stopped her: a cold shiver ran down her spine making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up as an angry, dark vibe descended upon her.

The halogen light above them flickered angrily. Alyx backed herself away, eyes wide in hysteria, her bottom lip trembled.

Matthew rose to his feet, looking at the bulb. It flashed in rhythm like an enraged heartbeat until with an ear piercing cry the bulb exploded, plunging the room into total darkness as the embers of it descended to the ground like the dying fall of a firework.

Alyx screamed at the pitch blackness of the room. There were no windows, the door now out of sight. She was trapped... but there was something else... a tingling in her ears, in her head, a scratching sensation which made her cover her ears as that all too familiar sound entered her mind again.

It was then that she heard Matthew cry out in the dark. His head impacted with the wall several times in succession and a sickening crack was heard before his body fell with his full weight to the floor.

Alyx spun round in terror, calling out Matthew's name although knowing full well that he wouldn't answer her. The dark surrounded her, and she extended her arms in the hope of feeling the rough material of the straitjacket.

But she felt nothing, "Where are you? Where the fuck are you?!" She reached into her hoodie and took hold of the rosary again.

The time for prayer had gone for mercy had clearly left her stranded. A hand grabbed her throat and lifted off her feet, forcing her to the wall hard. She tried to fight him off but her fists and legs met nothing... nothing!

She couldn't see him, couldn't feel him, what was wrong with her? This wouldn't do at all. He spied the rosary hanging from her neck, and growled at her furiously, God is not here today you cunt! He yelled as he tore it from her, scratching the soft skin deeply. The black beads dangled from his fingers as he clenched them into a fist and brought it hard upon her face, squeezing her neck even more tightly.

You fucking whore, I searched endlessly and this is how I find you. In the arms of another! You fucking bitch! I should skin you, I should cut you up, I should remove your eyes and fuck the empty sockets!

Alyx choked and spluttered as his grip intensified. The ghoul's attention now turned back to the young man who lay unconscious but not dead across the room, No, I know what you want, and seeing as you like this young man so much, I should skin him and wear his skin and then fuck you, would you like that? Yes? He dropped her and walked over to the young doctor who in Ryan's opinion had gotten too big for his boots, who did this poxy swine think he was anyway?

"Ry.. Ry... Oh G- Ryan! No!" Alyx struggled to speak as she refilled her lungs with oxygen.

He picked the limp body from the ground by the scruff of his shirt, reached his arm across and took Matthew's jaw in his grasp, intent of snapping the neck in two but just before he did Alyx screamed.

"They'll take me away again!" Ryan stopped and looked at her, exhaling a deep, angry breath like a low growl, "I didn't want to leave you! I never wanted to leave! They made me go! They took me away!" she cried, as she finally had a chance to explain to him how it had felt to be torn away from him, the sentences came quick and short between sobs as she searched the room for him, "If you kill him, they'll think I did it. They'll take me away, they'll move me somewhere else! And you won't be able to find me! Please Ryan, please don't kill him!" She found the wall and her eyes slowly began to adjust to the dark, but she couldn't find Ryan and in the dark that was all she wanted to find, the one constant thing in the dark. She started to move along the wall still talking as she went. Ryan listened, "Leave him and they'll keep me here. They'll probably lock me up. I don't know. They'll probably keep me here, but please, please leave him..." Tears fell from her eyes uncontrollably from fear of the dark and from want for what the dark held in its claustrophobic blackness. Finally she fell back to her knees in defeat and began instead to crawl across the hard, dark wooden floor, "I don't want to lose you again..."

He considered this for a moment, her argument made sense. He dropped Matthew to the floor and turned instead to face Alyx straight on. She scrambled about on the floor blindly in the darkness. His eyes being perfectly adjusted to the dark saw her's once again; those delicious blue orbs surrounded by blood red veins. Those same blue eyes which now could not fix upon him, could not place his location. She sobbed and stretched out her arms to search for him which made her look pitiful and weak, just like all women were to him.

He would make her pay for her infidelity... but not now...

The door burst open and the nurses entered. Syringe in hand.

Light flashed above her like some obscene rising and setting of many suns. She forced her eyes open and beheld something most peculiar. The walls were moving, very quickly, very quickly indeed but why were the walls moving at all? No, no the walls weren't moving; she was moving, but what was going on? She rose her head as she realised she was on a stretcher being pushed quickly along the corridor by several nurses who chattered incomprehensibly about many things; something about an ambulance, something about patients escaping –this was the first time she'd heard a nurse refer to them as patients, had it not been for seriousness of her predicament she would've laughed- while the electricity had been out. She was drugged, she could tell, she remembered this feeling, the feeling of struggling to even speak but she managed to force those few words out, "Where are you taking me? What happened? What's going on?" They didn't even look at her, just continued pushing her down the corridor.

"Put her on Blake Ward, any room, whichever room is free, just put her on Blake!"

There was no time to argue. They barged through the electrical doors onto Blake Ward which had shorted out with the rest of the electricity in the building and headed straight to room 11. Upon entering, two nurses lifted her sedated body from the stretcher and placed her roughly on the bed before leaving. Alyx pushed herself up, yelling at them not to leave her in this place; she stumbled towards the door which closed and was locked from the outside. She pounded her fists upon the hard metal door which was several inches thick, "Don't leave me in here, for the love of God, you can't leave me!" She banged with all her might which was rapidly decreasing with the intensity of the sedative they'd injected her with which made her head pound incessantly with a heavy blood flow. Despite the din that she was creating, she heard him, heard his heavy breathing. Alyx turned round slowly, eyes wide in fear.

Now she could see him, now she could see exactly what kind of look he was giving her. He wasn't smiling. This wasn't a game. He was angry, pure and simple. Even more so than when she'd told him she didn't love him back at the Asylum. She cried out for help and beat her fists against the door again, but no one was coming, and with her back turned to him Ryan now smiled as he advanced.

His reaction was instinctual, he had no control over the stirring in his loins as he watched her frantically begin to claw at the door in horror and scream endlessly... but then this was nothing new, he'd never had any control over the reaction this stimulus gave him.

I can forgive this little mishap, she didn't hear him, not over the sounds of her own screaming, But only if you will accept punishment. There are consequences to all actions. I know the type of things you love sweetheart, but I also know you well enough to know what you hate, oh yes, she had screamed and squirmed in the past when he'd taken her in certain ways, when he'd forced her to do unmentionable things... painful, agonising acts involving 'unconventional' methods of penetration, God can't hear you... He won't help you... He's abandoned you to me... No matter what force she used, or how loudly she screamed, she knew full well that she was now alone.

So it would seem that there are benefits to being locked in a psychiatric institution, he grabbed her, For when you scream in a place like this... No one comes... He tore her back. Her fingers clawed at the door enough to wrench several of her fingernails away from the flesh, leaving bloodied lines across the wall. The room once again plunged into absolute darkness.