Oh my... Oh my... It will almost be a year since I updated my story. I feel so bad with this, but please forgive me. Life has taken so much of my time. My little girl is a handful and I barely have time to myself. I am sure most of you would know what its like. But I am back, for the time being. So where did I leave off?
They left him alone. For days he only kept his eyes to the window. Never interacting with anyone else. In this place they were all the same. They have come from different backgrounds, but joined for a cause. He has heard that each one of them were family. Always there to take care of them when need. Truly some of the people who volunteered their time have never seen the likes of war, but they wanted to help in any case. Give the soldier's care or an ear to listen. A civilian does not need to hear such stories.
David kept to himself only talking when it was about the weather or his family. Even talking about home was comfort. But when they ventured into dark waters, the former soldier would pause and never give an answer. This never bothered the doctor's. With a nod of the head they left him be. One man, however, would not keep his eyes off David. Always questioning. Always trying to figure him out.
Warren...
"How should I present myself to the man that has more interests in me than other patients. I feel sort of special." David said with sarcasm.
Warren was not so amused by the former soldier's attitude. Since being admitted to his facility, David has been a more troublesome patient. Never talking in group sessions, never interacting with anyone in general, and he was always so distant. This place was for research and for patients to get better after suffering traumatic experiences.
"Bitter as always, are we Mr. Webster?" Warren said as he walked inside the patients room.
"You would make my research and job a little more easier if you could cooperate with me. I am only trying to help you try to understand what it is that you are going through."
David stood up from his chair. The contents on the table rattling from the force of the movement. Warren kept his calm not truly finding this man a threat to his life. He was acting out, clearly. Denial was blissful. David didn't want the help being offered to him and to not to his expense at all. Warren wanted what was inside of his mind.
"Helping me in what way? Keeping me in this prison you call a hospital? Nurses asking me questions and doctors keeping a watchful eye on me." David kept his eyes on Warren. The doctor was too calm but David was not trying to be a threat. Time and time again he has said no to treatments. What made him different from the rest of the soldier's that saw combat?
"Our research can help others like you. Your case is something that I am looking into. The procedure that I want you to do is simple. You will be in a dreamlike state. Only a needle to the arm and the rest will be monitored. All we need is your say and a signature." Warren did not need to sound convincing. Like a salesman at the door, David could see right through him. A doctor or not he was not going to do whatever it was that was being sold. They wanted to study him like some zoo animal. He was not going to let it happen no matter what.
"Your research will only keep me in here. I do not need any help from people who have not seen the ill's of war. To keep harassing me with this procedure... I won't do it." David walked passed Warren. The two men did not give a glance and the doctor was left in David's room. The complete tolerance he had for the former soldier was growing less and less. David was one patient to many to be let go. He held something valuable within that stubborn head of his.
He has seen the look of fear in the eyes of men. The way their eyes filled with hopelessness because no one would grant them any pity. Death was just a stone throws away. That was what David saw when a man ran through the open doors with the look of intense fear in his sickly eyes. He and Altair stood- watching the scene unfold before them. Bile raised in David's gut close to making him vomit. Altair stood by his side waiting. Silently watching.
"No!" The man screamed in English. David listened closely to his broken English. "Help! Help me!"
The two men watched as this patient was looking for some sort of divine power. Sadly, there was none. No one dared help the sick. What David saw in these times seemed like the work of the devil to some might have been mental illness. Within the confines of the city were men and women talking to themselves in tongues. People avoided this more then they avoided bad omens. Mental illness was never diagnosed in these times and David knew. If he dared to interfere he would be questioned. This was something the former soldier did not want.
"Help me, please! You must help me!" Guilt failed David's heart strongly. There was nothing he could do to help. They watched as a lazy eyed guard came with another in tow stop near the man and beat him. They kicked, punched, spat out curses to him.
Altair clenched his jaw as he and David watched. Those around them were swaying back and forth. Patients of the mentally ill, David presumed. This man that Altair was after was indeed a man of medical healing. To see guards beat a patient was nothing the former soldier has ever seen before. The poor man begged with his voice going unnoticed.
Both the assassin's waited in the crowds that were forming. Eyes crazy and unpredictable.
"Mercy!" The sound of the man's voice had cracked. "I beg mercy. No more!"
David has seen broken men. Being beaten to a bloody pulp had caused the man to not feel his pain. Those around them didn't speak up. The words mumbled and some laughed as the clung to their sides. The former soldier was feeling anxious as the doors swung open. There stood a man who was shorter then the assassin's. He was beardless and had close-cropped white hair, sunken eyes and a cruel smile.
Garnier de Naplouse
The man looked more a butcher than a man of faith. The apron he adorned on his body was bloody. The cross he had around his neck was no symbol for God. It would seem that even God had abandoned his flock. The people under the care of this Templar were not treated with any kindness. His authority was strong among the mental. David could not keep his eyes off the man. There was ill placed in the building. The stench of death and blood lingered. Something was not right about this man. Something in his eyes.
David looked to Altair who was watching intently. Did he see the same illness? That look of murder. Clearly, the assassin should have. David turned his attention back noticing the lazy eyed guard raising his fists to strike the man on the ground. De Naplouse interfered before the man could even strike.
"Enough, my child," he ordered, "I asked you to retrieve the patient, not to kill him."
De Naplouse walked towards his patient. His voice calm the man on the ground backed away.
"There, there. Everything will be alright. Give me your hand." The man shook his head.
"No-no! Don't touch me. Not again..." De Naplouse's small flicker of hope faltered. The man was truly scared beyond any reason. David thought that it was mental illness, but it was coming clear that it was not that at all. It was something far more powerful then the mind of the sick. This poor man might have been somewhat normal and had crossed de Naplouse's path.
"Cast out this fear, else I cannot help you." The Templar stated.
"Help me? Like you helped the others? You took their souls. But not mine. No. You'll not have mine. Never, never, never...Not mine not mine not mine not mine..." The man began to babble out of fear. Each word laced with that fear as he stared at de Naplouse. Shaking was the man as he backed away more into the crowd.
David has never seen such a scene. It was becoming unbearable to him. Watching a man slowly loose his mind and his will. Was this the world two thousand years ago? Beating people to their will over something man-made? The former soldier wanted to end it. He wanted to help. Altair kept still watching from the corner of his eye. Seeing David fidget with his fingers twitching. This was a behavior that made David different. His index finger curled in a strange fashion. Altair has never seen the like. It was as if David was pulling something with just that one finger.
"Take hold of yourself." Flesh being smacked hard echoed lightly. Both the assassin's focused now. De Naplouse towered over his patient. There was no turning back. Darkness laid heavily upon them. "Do you think this gives me pleasure? Do you think I want to hurt you? But you leave me no choice..."
Without warning the patient began to run more into the crowd. "Every kind word matched by the back of his hand. All lies and deception. He wont be content until all bow to him."
He was caught by the guards and dragged back infront of de Naplouse. The scene was becoming more dangerous by the second. Hearing the words come from the man was more horrific. Altair could not place it but those last few words struck him. Something about it was familiar. David noticed trying to let it sink. Using such fear as a tactic worked for the weak minded people. Those unlucky few to see right through a pained smile and eyes were forced to undergo it. What was the plan of this Templar? Who was this man truly? He was not like Tamir.
"You should not have done that. Return him to his quarters. I'll be along once I've attended to the other's." De Naplouse said.
"You cant keep me here! I'll escape again." The man protested. With such fire in his soul could this man have walked away. Desperation sunk low into the patient. Nothing and no one was going to save him from what was to come next. Like an angry mother to a misbehaved child, the Templar looked to his patient.
"No you won't." He looked to the lazy eyed guard. "Break his legs. Both of them."
David has been shot at, had IED's blown up in front of his convoy, he as seen what bullets could do to human flesh, and he knows the sound of a dying man. The patient wailed loudly like a banshee in the night. The sound of bones being forced out of their sockets caused the former soldier to look away. Human suffering was something he did not like to be a part of. Since his days in Afghanistan, the people unfortunate enough to be killed right in front of him scarred his brain.
The poor man cried over his legs and calling de Naplouse a monster. Altair flinched at the sight as the Templar yelled to the crowd. His wild eyes scanning taking no notice to the assassin's. He was on edge now. Something spooked him in the crowd. Quickly he walked back inside with the patient being dragged.
It was time to strike now. Pushing past David to a group of scholars ready to make their rounds inside the building, Altair and David played the part. Inside... Inside the ward was nothing more then depressing. People laying in cots crying, babbling, being restrained like mental patients. The smell itself was enough to make the scholars covers their noises. The assassin's walked as if praying but they were seeing this. Their eyes watching them suffer.
They heard a patient yell 'monster'. They were calling de Naplouse this. The words seemed to not take offense to him. Altair separated from the praying scholars; leaving David to roam with them. Not wanting to be of distraction, the former soldier did not question Altair's motive. They were here on a mission. David had to learn the ways of the assassin. Each step, every eye of the guards, Altair was very skilled. David kept watch as he slowly fell behind the scholars. He found himself standing in a corner in the shadows.
The sick coughed. Mummers and moans could be heard throughout the hospital. David was feeling dread. Something was watching and waiting. He tightened his hold on his sword as hands were placed on his shoulders. A startled jump forced him around losing sight of Altair and his chance to learn. Before the former soldier was a sickly man. Skinny with sunken eyes. Mumbling in a language he wasn't so sure.
The sickly man placed his hands on David's face. Touching his skin with warm palms. David was to startled and curious as to why this man was not yelling or even attacking him. David stood taller than most and more muscular, but this man was not scared. He seemed more curious as to who and what David was.
His head faced down to the sickly man's at eye level. Dark Brown eyes stared at him. Continuing to mumble until he heard a cry and a clash of swords. Pulling away from the sickly man the former soldier turned and ran to the commotion. The mumbling man continued to speak throwing his hands in a wave like motion to David.
"Sage..."