Chapter 3

"Jessica? Oh I'm so sorry; I just didn't know who to call."

I locked myself inside the tight quarters of the office, glancing frantically from the monitor to the windows. "What's going on?"

"Crane escaped. I-I don't know how."

Silence

"I'm locked inside the office room, what do I do?"

Jessica remained silent for a few moments before I heard her humming, as if she was deciding what she should say. "I wouldn't worry about Crane, Mira. He wouldn't hurt you unless you gave him a reason to."

My mind was screaming, but it was my turn to be silent. I stared at the monitor, eyeing each room carefully to find him. "Where would he go?"

"Mira, it's going to be fine. I promise." I listened to her hang up the phone. My jaw fell open, and I found myself standing in the same position with the phone still against my ear. I was frozen in time. Dr. Crane must have been telling the truth. Why else would Jessica shrug the whole situation off? Oh god, they even told me not to talk to Dr. Crane! Was that so I wouldn't found out about any of this mess?

I slowly unlocked the door and walked back to the cart, gritting my teeth the whole time. My body began to shrink, and I felt myself trying to pull my shoulders together. It was like seeing a spider crawling on the wall, only to turn around and find that it disappeared.

For the rest of the night, everything was normal and quiet. I never did shake that feeling of the missing spider. At least, not until the morning girl, Allison, came in. Her tired eyes seemed to darken when I told her about Crane, but then she just shrugged it off like Jessica did earlier. She reminded me of the popular girl at school who had that dreadful case of resting bitch face.

"I'm sure he'll come back." She threw her copper curls over her shoulder with a sigh.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "Why is everyone okay with this? Crane hurt a lot of people, but apparently it's not the first time he's escaped? What happens when he hurts someone? If they find out, Arkham could get sued!"

She gave me an annoyed look before backhanding me right into the file cabinet. I felt her bony knuckles force my tooth right into my upper lip, immediately drawing blood. When I looked up at her from the ground, I saw her sitting at the desk filling out paperwork like nothing had happened.

I rose, convincing myself she wasn't worth hurting. How I would love to grab her by the scalp and slam her face against the wall to break her nose. No, I was better than that. "Have a good morning, Allison." I whispered before carefully shutting the door.

I felt the blood from my lip drip down my chin, making a running trail down my neck. I didn't even bother to wipe it away as I walked through the lobby and out the door. Strangely enough, I didn't receive any looks from the people around me. They just smiled.

"Bed. I just want to go to bed." I said to myself as I drove through the snow. I turned into the apartment parking lot and shut off the car, slamming the door before running up the wooden stairs. It was when I pulled out my key that I noticed it was unlocked. I mentally slapped myself, angry that I forgot to lock it before I left.

I flipped the living room light on and tossed my keys on the couch, as well as my freshly stained shirt. The more I lingered in the living room, the more something felt off to me. When I glanced around, nothing was more out of place than usual. The moderate size kitchen was in need of a light cleaning, with a small amount of dirty dishes in the sink. My living room was decent besides the stack of mostly clean clothes on the couch. They usually sat there until I decided it was time to just go ahead and wash them again.

I took my pants off and added them to the pile before separating them from what I considered clean. Maybe I could wind down a bit and do some laundry before bed. Somehow the smell of cotton was always enjoyable to me. During mid-fold, I began to wonder about the smell. Actually, it wasn't the smell of my apartment, but the fact that I couldn't smell anything. When I looked at the book shelf beside the couch, I realized that my wax melt had been unplugged. Maybe I did lock my door like I thought.

A presence sauntered from the hallway and leaned against the wall, peering at me with familiar bright eyes. At first, I didn't recognize him out of the dull scrubs. Instead, he wore a tattered coal colored jacket with fancy pinstripe pants and black dress shoes. Crane's image was the teacher that high school girls secretly lusted for, dressed by Tim Burton and diagnosed with some juicy psychotic disorder.

"Dr. Crane." I said kindly, accepting the fact that I was going to die wearing little mermaid underwear.

He raised an eyebrow before lightly touching his lips, grazing his fingertips over them slowly. "You should clean up."

When I touched my face, I felt the semi dry blood on my fingers. I rummaged for something to cover my body before Crane threw a towel on the couch. Quickly, I grabbed it and headed straight for the sink, throwing water all over my face and neck. I dried my face, scrubbing away the last bit of blood. Crane was a mere few feet away from me when I turned around.

"What do you need?" I asked him, holding the towel to my chest. Excuse yourself and call the police!

Dr. Crane licked his lips before drawing a breath. "Actually I was wondering if you didn't mine me using you for the day."

I didn't hesitate. "What the fuck do you mean use me?" I backed away, holding the towel with one hand while I searched in a drawer with the other.

He narrowed his eyes slightly, stepping closer. Crane's face was blank besides the annoyance in his eyes; the same annoyance in Allison's face before she plowed me into the file cabinet. I flinched at him, scared he would do the same.

"I'm not going to beat you, Mira." Crane laughed dryly. "But I would appreciate it if you used a professional tone with me."

He didn't seem angry, but he was scary. The smooth control of his words and his way of showing emotion was admirable as well as terrifying. When I looked back up, I swear I could have seen a faint smile. "Dr. Crane, I'm very tired." I said timidly. "I really need to sleep."

Crane tilted his head, as if he was reading me. Like a nervous fool, I dropped the towel on the floor and struggled to cover myself in the pink bra. I felt like I was just shrinking down to the size of a four year old. Suddenly I felt his hands on both sides of my hips, attempting to raise me onto the kitchen counter. I wriggled in his grasp and protested weakly until the painful squeezing became unbearable. Once on the counter I began to panic even more; my protests for freedom turned into begs.

He pulled me closer to the ledge, hands gripping my knees tightly. I attempted to kick him before he reached for my hair and pulled, sending yelps of pain into the air. Once he had me at my weakest, he filled the space between my thighs with his body. One hand gripped my hair while the other clutched my neck. "I just want to know what you're afraid of." He leaned in and whispered. The scent of his neck was pure intoxication, and I found my toes curl with immediate shame.

"Please don't do this to me." I cried softly, struggling to speak. "Please."

He released my neck with a disgusted laugh and weakened the grip on my hair. "Do what? I'm not going to rape you." Dr. Crane let me go, allowing my head to fall back onto the cabinet. I winced in pain, but still thankful he wasn't hurting me anymore.

"Thank you." I mumbled more to myself than him, but he was still close to me.

He gently lifted my chin to look straight at him. The gesture was sweet, but somehow I felt it was his way of apologizing. "Mira, we can have a wonderful doctor and patient relationship if you cooperate."

"Doctor and patient?" I whispered quietly.

Crane nodded slowly before leaning in and murmuring, "Go to sleep. When you wake up, I'm going to take care of you."

I closed my eyes, hoping this was nothing but a nightmare. Yes, this was just a stupid nightmare. I've been working too many nights at Arkham, and it's all getting to me. Mira, wake up. Wake up.

Then, I woke up.

My comforter was warm, like it had been freshly washed and dried. I rubbed my legs together, enjoying the feeling of clean linen and the smell of cotton in the air. Sunlight peaked through my curtains, and I quickly realized it was far too early for me to be awake. I closed my eyes once more.

"Good morning."

I screamed, sitting up way too fast. My head was spinning with the sight of Crane standing at the foot of my bed, sipping on a cup of coffee. He set it down on my dresser before sauntering over to take a seat just a few feet to my left on the edge of my bed. "You're real." I said, still sleepy and reeling from what I thought was a nightmare.

Crane laughed softly and I watched his eyes roll behind his glasses. "Yes."

"I'm sorry; I thought I had a dream." I admitted to him before rubbing my eyes. Mouthing off didn't seem to get me anywhere, so I decided to play it safe and just be nice. God knows I didn't want to be caught up in anything physical.

"Sure." He answered simply, almost boringly. "May I ask what sort of things you dream about?"

The question caught me off guard. I thought it over for a few moments as Crane patiently waited. Finally I decided on something safe but true. It was something common, but still interesting enough to satisfy him. "I see wolves sometimes. Actually, it's always just one wolf at a time. They look different in every dream."

When I glanced over I realized he was writing on a notepad. "You're writing all this down?"

He ignored me, and I didn't like it.

So I hesitated for a moment, wishing he wouldn't be so frigid. "Oh, well. The last dream I remember having was really weird. I'm pretty sure I was living in some kind of hut in a rainforest before jumping off a cliff."

Crane didn't say a word or react at all. Instead he finished writing before pulling something out from beneath my bed. I leaned over, thinking he was taking something of mine. Instead, it was just his suitcase that he probably placed there while I was asleep. He gently placed it on the bed before flipping it open.

I watched him intently as he moved, wondering if he had used my shower or left to put himself together. His hair looked more maintained than it had before, and he neglected to put on that tattered jacket of his. My nose couldn't help but breath in the smell of sweet sandalwood and rose. Oh, he used my shower.

"My mom and dad live in South Dakota with my little sisters. My life was pretty normal; pretty boring really. I got into some trouble when I was around sixteen, so they sent me away. It still hurts sometimes, knowing that they didn't care to listen to me."

Dr. Crane closed the case shut and fixated his eyes onto mine. It was like he was just looking through me. His jaw suddenly clenched and I couldn't help but melt a little. Why did I open my mouth to this lunatic?

"What happened when you were sixteen?" He tilted his head before licking his lips, speaking in that smooth and controlled tone. Somehow Crane seemed…hungry.

I hesitated, running my fingers through my hair nervously before deciding to just tell him. "I slept with one of my dad's friends."

Now, it wasn't really as bad as it sounds. Dad was a computer geek and worked with a lot of other computer geeks, one in particular was much more attractive and intriguing than the rest. Yes, William was still pushing thirty and had a son. Did I know this at the time? No, I didn't. To be honest, I probably still would have done it if I did, selfish teen that I was. I never could have said no to those big brown eyes and rigid tan shoulders.

"Naughty." He raised an eyebrow but didn't seem too phased.

"I know, I'm a mess." I replied sarcastically. Crane wasn't amused.

"So, what's the whole story?" He asked.

I leaned my head back and stared up at the ceiling for a minute to recollect my story, and then I drew a quick breath before looking back to Crane. His eyes kept staring, never blinking.

"He came around looking for dad while no one was home and we fucked in the laundry room. Sounds like a shitty porn, right? I'd been eyeballing him for a few weeks to be honest. No one…pressed any charges. They just shut it all away and got rid of me."

No reaction from Crane. He was just as he was before.

"Well?" I laughed, feeling awkward.

Crane shrugged. "Maybe that's why you dreamt you were in paradise before you threw yourself off the cliff. You were living somewhere unsatisfactory so you acted out and indirectly cast yourself away."

I opened my mouth, in slight awe that this actually made sense, In addition to the fact that I was having a completely civil conversation with one of Arkhams patients. However, I assume I had now become the patient in this case.

"Mira, do you have nightmares all the time?"

I thought for a moment. "Sure, I get some pretty vivid ones. If they aren't nightmares then they're just strange."

Crane grinned, and I felt like I was staring at some different kind of blue devil. He uncrossed his legs and glanced to the nightstand where a syringe was placed. My eyes widened and my chest felt tight. How did I not notice it from before? What was in the syringe?

"If you cooperate, you won't have to meet my bad side." He warned. There was a bit of an edge to his voice, almost like I was already starting to meet his bad side.

"I-I…wait. I have to work tonight."

He gently took my arm, and I watched his hands feel for a good vein. Crane had pretty hands, and somehow I calmed myself in watching him. But, that was the end of his gentleness.

"You're working right now."

Dr. Crane wasn't kind with the needle.