Yay I have a review!
It's not much but its still motivation, so much so that I conjured up another chappie.
Enjoy!
*******************************************************
Mort had driven the thirty miles up to the New Brunswick Psychiatric Hospital without so much as a snort from Shooter.
(Progress already.)
He held his laptop messenger bag in tow, and a burlap sack filled with the necessities, THE robe, an ear corn, a few mixed matched clothes, and a screwdriver which inexplicably had shown up there.
Now standing in the reception lobby of the hospital, Morton couldn't help but be a little let down that this hospital wasn't the white washed and metallic prison he had imagined, but rather a dark, cherry oak and inviting compound with assorted bits of leather furniture that made it look like it was some rich man's study.
He was hoping for some good terror material for his next story, but he couldn't fathom any better way to describe his current surroundings then simply 'comfortable'. Hell, it looked a lot better then his cabin when it came to the interior decorating.
(Amy tried to 'girl' up the cabin, but the only remotely good upgrade I liked was that secret window. It did provide the inspiration for the short story that put me on the literary map.)
The revolving door behind him bustled with people twirling in and twirling out. So much so that Mort felt in the way and quickly strolled up to the front counter in a very Raoul Duke fashion trying to avoid the people moving so quickly through the lobby.
"I'm Morton Rainey. Uhm. You wouldn't happen to be Penelope Reid would you?" He said tucking his unruly hair behind his ears and smiling hesitantly at the overweight, beach blonde, sixty year old behind the counter.
(God, please not let that be her. I pray to the gods that not be her! Gah!..Look at that mole...)
"No sweetie, I'm Carla!" Laughing or rather cackling, the woman found something very humorous about that comment, though Mort was too disgusted staring at her jiggling flesh to join in the laughter.
Sighing deeply, Carla's eyes scanned over Mort's braces then back to her bulky computer screen where she typed in his name, waited, clicked again then ripped the piece of paper coming out of the printer. She handed it to him and sighed again.
"Penny will be here in a moment, doll face. Sit right over there." With a pink manicured finger, Carla pointed to the plush leather couch to his left.
Nodding quickly, he made a B-line for the couch and plopped him and his belongings on it.
Looking over the piece of paper, it all looked like a bunch of closely crowded together numbers that seemed to be some sort of code. Looking next to his name on the form, it was evident he was just a number to these people. 9321178.
(A tagged cow to the mental slaughter.)
(A numbered Jew to the death camp.)
(A..)
Deep into the metaphors for himself, he realized a white, cottony mass was right in his plane of view. Trailing his eyes up, he met two more wide eyes that were staring at his belongings.
Penny smoothed out the front of her white nurse's uniform and picked up Mort's things without giving him so much as a word or blink to acknowledge his presence. Finding all of this odd, he cleared his throat and stood up, watching this woman gather his burlap sack.
Snatching it like a beast would snatch a bloody rabbit, he held it up to himself, his eyes wide and blinking.
It was evident he was confused and Penny's arched eyebrow at him faltered, replacing her questionable expression with a smiled instead.
"I said my name is Penny Reid. Remember we spoke on the phone? I was just trying to help you with your things, but if you like, you can carry them over to the X-ray machine yourself." Blowing a curl out of her face, she waited patiently.
"Penny? X-ray machine?" He mumbled, acting completely beside himself.
Laughing, she nodded and turned her back to him to point up ahead.
"Don't worry, its strictly procedure."
As her back was to him, Morton dove his hand into the burlap sack, grabbed the ear of corn and screwdriver and shoved them into his laptop bag, which he casually held beside him as she turned back around to him again.
"Okay then. Here." Tossing Penny his now lightened burlap sack, she pointed to his laptop's bag suspiciously.
"Oh its just my laptop. Only stuff in there that an x-ray couldn't see anyway." Smiling, and showing off his dazzling braces, she laughed once and nodded. Like hell he was going to get caught with corn and a screwdriver. They would lock him up in a second.
(Good. She trusts me.)
"This way Morton." She called out, already walking in the direction of some corridor that had large black prison bars at the end of it.
He followed along tentatively, trying to vie for some attention from her. He felt she wasn't all there when they spoke. It all felt so impersonal, but he couldn't blame her.
(One has to detach themselves from such a line of work as this. Working with nutcases everyday must be difficult.)
They arrived at the bars, which held the X-ray machine behind them, and Penny wrapped a hand around one of the bars, turning to Mort.
"Don't let these bars scare you. Its only-"
"Procedure?" Mort chimed in and they both laughed as Penny pulled out a small credit card like square.
"Exactly." She said sticking in the glossy card in its appropriate slot. A loud buzz was heard and the bars opened automatically. Taking her cue, Penny waltzed in and waved at the black male manning the machine as he sat at a stool.
"That's Charlie." The young nurse stated with a smirk as she placed Mort's bag on the ramp of the machine. "He's the first and last person you'll see before leaving, so mind you that you remember his name. He hates it when you forget his name."
Penny and Charlie shared a chuckle and both looked over to the timid Mort who just stared at Penny as she smiled. For some reason Mort took a liking to her smile as it was soothing in such an odd situation as this.
It took only a few moments for his bag to clear through the machine. Penny pulled it out and held it up for Morton at the end of the ramp.
"Easy as pie." He said, walking over and taking the back from her, gently this time. His fingers grazed hers for a moment as he lifted the bag from her grasp and Mort reveled in this momentary contact.
"Your papers, Morton?"
"Oh yeah. Here. And please call me Mort?"
"Of course, Mort. Hey, can I call ya Morty?"
"..uhm. Sure?"
"I was only kidding."
Insert Mort and Penny laughing here as they continued walking down a corridor. Penny stopped abruptly and used her key card once again to open a door to Mort's in-patient room.
"Ok, this is where you'll be staying tonight. Tomorrow may be different. You may be home tomorrow! But you'll be meeting with Daddy today to suss all that out."
"Daddy?"
"Dr. Reid! Yeah, I meant Dr. Reid. He's my father by the way, Daddy isn't a kinky pet name or anything."
Penelope paused realizing how much of an idiot she was making herself out to be in front of this rather hot guy who also happened to be a patient.
Mort only smiled at her display of stupidity turned cuteness.
"Listen, Dr.Reid will be ready to meet with you this afternoon. So make your self-comfortable and if you need anything page me. All the information you need is over by the phone. So. Questions?"
Mort had already entered the run of the mill room, yet was staring out the window, which beheld a beautiful mountainous view. He was transfixed yet tore his eyes away from the window to face Penny once again.
"Not a one. Thanks Penny, for easing me into all this. It wasn't as painful as I had imagined."
Behind Penny in the hallway a shriek and un human like snarling was heard echoing up the corridor. Looking down at her beeping pager, Penny's face went blank with some kind of unknowing fear.
"Shell shock." She muttered and looked behind her for a second to survey the goings on in the hall.
"I gotta jet. I'll see you later though." Penny's tone was finally on Mort's level when she spoke. Obviously rattled to be dealing with a reckless patient, she waved and closed Mort's door.
It wasn't until that same beeping had announced that Penny had locked him in his room that he realized that he was in an actual mental hospital.
Locked in a room with Shooter.
An ear of corn.
And a screwdriver.
*******************************************
Review my pretties!!
*rapes Mort plushie*
Dun Dun Dun Dun!
Tune in and find out what happens on the next episode of "Scribbled in Blood"!
It's not much but its still motivation, so much so that I conjured up another chappie.
Enjoy!
*******************************************************
Mort had driven the thirty miles up to the New Brunswick Psychiatric Hospital without so much as a snort from Shooter.
(Progress already.)
He held his laptop messenger bag in tow, and a burlap sack filled with the necessities, THE robe, an ear corn, a few mixed matched clothes, and a screwdriver which inexplicably had shown up there.
Now standing in the reception lobby of the hospital, Morton couldn't help but be a little let down that this hospital wasn't the white washed and metallic prison he had imagined, but rather a dark, cherry oak and inviting compound with assorted bits of leather furniture that made it look like it was some rich man's study.
He was hoping for some good terror material for his next story, but he couldn't fathom any better way to describe his current surroundings then simply 'comfortable'. Hell, it looked a lot better then his cabin when it came to the interior decorating.
(Amy tried to 'girl' up the cabin, but the only remotely good upgrade I liked was that secret window. It did provide the inspiration for the short story that put me on the literary map.)
The revolving door behind him bustled with people twirling in and twirling out. So much so that Mort felt in the way and quickly strolled up to the front counter in a very Raoul Duke fashion trying to avoid the people moving so quickly through the lobby.
"I'm Morton Rainey. Uhm. You wouldn't happen to be Penelope Reid would you?" He said tucking his unruly hair behind his ears and smiling hesitantly at the overweight, beach blonde, sixty year old behind the counter.
(God, please not let that be her. I pray to the gods that not be her! Gah!..Look at that mole...)
"No sweetie, I'm Carla!" Laughing or rather cackling, the woman found something very humorous about that comment, though Mort was too disgusted staring at her jiggling flesh to join in the laughter.
Sighing deeply, Carla's eyes scanned over Mort's braces then back to her bulky computer screen where she typed in his name, waited, clicked again then ripped the piece of paper coming out of the printer. She handed it to him and sighed again.
"Penny will be here in a moment, doll face. Sit right over there." With a pink manicured finger, Carla pointed to the plush leather couch to his left.
Nodding quickly, he made a B-line for the couch and plopped him and his belongings on it.
Looking over the piece of paper, it all looked like a bunch of closely crowded together numbers that seemed to be some sort of code. Looking next to his name on the form, it was evident he was just a number to these people. 9321178.
(A tagged cow to the mental slaughter.)
(A numbered Jew to the death camp.)
(A..)
Deep into the metaphors for himself, he realized a white, cottony mass was right in his plane of view. Trailing his eyes up, he met two more wide eyes that were staring at his belongings.
Penny smoothed out the front of her white nurse's uniform and picked up Mort's things without giving him so much as a word or blink to acknowledge his presence. Finding all of this odd, he cleared his throat and stood up, watching this woman gather his burlap sack.
Snatching it like a beast would snatch a bloody rabbit, he held it up to himself, his eyes wide and blinking.
It was evident he was confused and Penny's arched eyebrow at him faltered, replacing her questionable expression with a smiled instead.
"I said my name is Penny Reid. Remember we spoke on the phone? I was just trying to help you with your things, but if you like, you can carry them over to the X-ray machine yourself." Blowing a curl out of her face, she waited patiently.
"Penny? X-ray machine?" He mumbled, acting completely beside himself.
Laughing, she nodded and turned her back to him to point up ahead.
"Don't worry, its strictly procedure."
As her back was to him, Morton dove his hand into the burlap sack, grabbed the ear of corn and screwdriver and shoved them into his laptop bag, which he casually held beside him as she turned back around to him again.
"Okay then. Here." Tossing Penny his now lightened burlap sack, she pointed to his laptop's bag suspiciously.
"Oh its just my laptop. Only stuff in there that an x-ray couldn't see anyway." Smiling, and showing off his dazzling braces, she laughed once and nodded. Like hell he was going to get caught with corn and a screwdriver. They would lock him up in a second.
(Good. She trusts me.)
"This way Morton." She called out, already walking in the direction of some corridor that had large black prison bars at the end of it.
He followed along tentatively, trying to vie for some attention from her. He felt she wasn't all there when they spoke. It all felt so impersonal, but he couldn't blame her.
(One has to detach themselves from such a line of work as this. Working with nutcases everyday must be difficult.)
They arrived at the bars, which held the X-ray machine behind them, and Penny wrapped a hand around one of the bars, turning to Mort.
"Don't let these bars scare you. Its only-"
"Procedure?" Mort chimed in and they both laughed as Penny pulled out a small credit card like square.
"Exactly." She said sticking in the glossy card in its appropriate slot. A loud buzz was heard and the bars opened automatically. Taking her cue, Penny waltzed in and waved at the black male manning the machine as he sat at a stool.
"That's Charlie." The young nurse stated with a smirk as she placed Mort's bag on the ramp of the machine. "He's the first and last person you'll see before leaving, so mind you that you remember his name. He hates it when you forget his name."
Penny and Charlie shared a chuckle and both looked over to the timid Mort who just stared at Penny as she smiled. For some reason Mort took a liking to her smile as it was soothing in such an odd situation as this.
It took only a few moments for his bag to clear through the machine. Penny pulled it out and held it up for Morton at the end of the ramp.
"Easy as pie." He said, walking over and taking the back from her, gently this time. His fingers grazed hers for a moment as he lifted the bag from her grasp and Mort reveled in this momentary contact.
"Your papers, Morton?"
"Oh yeah. Here. And please call me Mort?"
"Of course, Mort. Hey, can I call ya Morty?"
"..uhm. Sure?"
"I was only kidding."
Insert Mort and Penny laughing here as they continued walking down a corridor. Penny stopped abruptly and used her key card once again to open a door to Mort's in-patient room.
"Ok, this is where you'll be staying tonight. Tomorrow may be different. You may be home tomorrow! But you'll be meeting with Daddy today to suss all that out."
"Daddy?"
"Dr. Reid! Yeah, I meant Dr. Reid. He's my father by the way, Daddy isn't a kinky pet name or anything."
Penelope paused realizing how much of an idiot she was making herself out to be in front of this rather hot guy who also happened to be a patient.
Mort only smiled at her display of stupidity turned cuteness.
"Listen, Dr.Reid will be ready to meet with you this afternoon. So make your self-comfortable and if you need anything page me. All the information you need is over by the phone. So. Questions?"
Mort had already entered the run of the mill room, yet was staring out the window, which beheld a beautiful mountainous view. He was transfixed yet tore his eyes away from the window to face Penny once again.
"Not a one. Thanks Penny, for easing me into all this. It wasn't as painful as I had imagined."
Behind Penny in the hallway a shriek and un human like snarling was heard echoing up the corridor. Looking down at her beeping pager, Penny's face went blank with some kind of unknowing fear.
"Shell shock." She muttered and looked behind her for a second to survey the goings on in the hall.
"I gotta jet. I'll see you later though." Penny's tone was finally on Mort's level when she spoke. Obviously rattled to be dealing with a reckless patient, she waved and closed Mort's door.
It wasn't until that same beeping had announced that Penny had locked him in his room that he realized that he was in an actual mental hospital.
Locked in a room with Shooter.
An ear of corn.
And a screwdriver.
*******************************************
Review my pretties!!
*rapes Mort plushie*
Dun Dun Dun Dun!
Tune in and find out what happens on the next episode of "Scribbled in Blood"!