Finally, a new chapter. I was beginning to think I'd never get back to working on this again because I was so caught-up in other things. Then I just suddenly felt somewhat inspired, and decided to work on it a bit. I have no clue where this chapter is going, but I'll come up with something. I'm also still working out exactly how Alfred should act in this story – I decided that he'd be drugged up on anti-psychotics, which normally make people kind of zombie-ish, but trying to make him like that is kind of… Awkward.

The beginning of this chapter is really weird, like a drug trip or something, but the weirdness will end up being important to the plot later on, so I suppose that it's good that it's so… weird.

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Chapter Three: Crazy

"That guy is so busted," Barry said to himself, meriting a funny look from Birkin, who was sitting next to him.

Before the patients were all to be ushered back off to their rooms, a couple of guys who worked in the ward had turned on a TV in the corner of the day room to occupy them while the staff prepared to switch shifts. Barry was watching Dateline NBC: To Catch a Predator with such concentration that he didn't notice Birkin was staring at him.

"Yeah, that's right. Sit that creep down and find out what he was thinking," Barry said to Chris Hanson like he was right there in the room.

"Are you certain you're not getting a little too into that show?" Birkin asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course not," Barry replied, not bothering to look up from the TV, "You can ever be too into – EWW! That guy is 63 and he wanted to do it with a 13-year-old!"

Birkin rolled his eyes. "I'm not sure what you find so interesting about disturbing men with serious problems that – did that man just say something about having sex with a cat?"

"That's what this show is all about," Barry said in a tone that was just a little too happy. "Damn, that guy is disgusting!"

"Keep it down!" Alfred snapped, giving Barry a dirty look. Since dinner the drugs had apparently started to wear off, since he'd slowly become more like his nasty old self.

"Fine," Barry replied.

"You're going to die in here," someone whispered in his ear.

He blinked a few times, suddenly finding himself lying on his bed, back in his room. He'd been asleep.

He could hear voices close by, and looked around. Dr. Heilen was by the door, with the black-haired man he'd seen earlier. When the psychiatrist realized Barry was awake, he came closer, smiling in that pleasant, yet creepy way he did.

"Barry, I'd like you to meet Dr. Reaver."

"Uh… hi?" Barry said, slightly confused from having just woken up.

Reaver didn't respond. He just stared apathetically at him, his arms crossed. His lab coat was still covered in blood, now dried over for the most part… Except for a few spots that still looked fresh…

"He's going to take you downstairs, and perform a procedure that will make you feel all better."

"What do you mean?"

"He's going to do a lobotomy," Dr. Heilen said on the cheery side, and Barry nearly had a heart attack.

"But those are illegal in this country!"

"Not if you destroy all the evidence," he said, even more cheerfully.

"And secretly employ an unlicensed neurosurgeon that the government doesn't even know about," Dr. Reaver added.

"You're insane!"

"Not at all, my friend. But you are." Dr. Heilen laughed.

Barry sat up in his bed, looking around but not seeing anything in the dim light.

Night had fallen, and the room was dark, except for the blue light from a streetlight in the vicinity that illuminated the walls. The only sound he could hear was the soft splattering of rain outside, which cast long shadows across the ceiling as it ran down the window.

He sighed, falling back onto the bed. "It was just a dream…"

"What was just a dream?" came a voice from very close, and he sat up again, looking around uneasily.

"Who said that?"

"I did," the voice replied.

"Where are you?"

"I'm all around. In fact, I'm right inside your head."

"This can't be happening," Barry murmured, shaking his head.

"It is," the voice said, taking on a sympathetic tone. "You'll come to accept it all someday."

"Come to accept what? I don't even know what I'm talking to, let alone what it's yammering about. This is just a dream, like everything else."

"May I remind you, this isn't a dream? I am as real as anything else in this place."

"Then what are you?"

"I'm a voice inside your head. The Son of Sam had dogs telling him what to do, Norman Bates had his mother and you have me."

"I'm nothing like either of them."

"How do you know? Schizophrenics are so deluded they don't realize there's even anything wrong with them."

"I am not a Schizophrenic!" Barry shouted.

"There's no need to get upset."

"Yes there is! I am not crazy, and there seems to be some confusion about it!"

"You're the only one who's confused. And once you understand that, you'll be much happier."

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!"

The voice fell silent, leaving Barry to himself, fairly troubled by the incident.

"Am I really crazy?" he asked the darkness quietly, but didn't get a reply.

The next morning…

The sky had turned a putrid shade of green when daylight came, the sound of distant thunder warning of storms somewhere nearby. Only the few pastel colored buildings scattered across Barry's view of the town from his window brightened the scenery.

He sat on his bed in silence, leaning against the cold cement windowsill and watching the grisly, leafless trees lining the street rock back and forth in the wind like they were waving. Waving to him, trapped in this prison of the mind.

The ward was quiet, except for the occasional footsteps of people passing his door. So far he'd only seen one person today, and that had been a skinny blond woman from the kitchen who'd brought him a bowl of something that vaguely looked like oatmeal, but didn't smell anything like it. He had just kept looking out the window, watching the morning traffic come and go, and occasionally wondering where the drivers were headed, what they were doing that day and what their lives were like. Hopefully not like this.

The sound of the door being unbolted didn't stir him from his window watching.

"You didn't eat anything? Are you feeling alright?" the voice he recognized as being the male nurse's asked.

"Not really," he answered simply.

"Did you have bad dreams all night, or something?"

"Yeah, how'd you know that?" He looked curiously over his shoulder at the man, whom just shrugged.

"Everyone here has nights like those. All the time, actually." He came over to Barry's bedside, looking out the window with him. "The weather's been so nasty lately. Maybe it means something."

After a moment, he shook his head, bringing himself back to reality. "Anyway, here are your pills. You should probably eat before you take them."

Barry nodded, taking the pills and continuing to look at the street. He listened to the man leave, bolting the door behind him, and let his gaze slip to the pills in his hand.

One pill makes you larger, and one pill makes you small…

Should he take them? He still didn't know what they were, or what they would do… But after last night he was afraid to be alone with his own thoughts…

He dismissed the idea of finding out what taking the pills would achieve, and stuffed them under the mattress as he'd done the day before, but this time…

"That's not a very good idea."

He jumped, slowly turning to see a young girl with strawberry blond hair, wearing a green tank top and jeans. "Oh?"

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. But it's not a good idea to keep them there – the nurses might find them when they clean." She smiled sweetly.

"Uh… Thanks … But what are you doing here?"

"My uncle Conrad brought me to work with him today, to visit the patients."

"Your uncle?"

"Dr. Heilen," she replied.

"Ah, yes. I know him," Barry replied, thinking of him with slight bitterness. "He lets you visit patients in a mental ward?"

"He says they get lonely and need someone to talk to, because their families don't come to see them. So I do instead."

"You seem a little young," he said, and she shook her head.

"I'm thirteen. He says that's old enough. And he's the head doctor so no one challenges his decisions."

Wow, the system of checks and balances works so well here, he thought sarcastically. "So… My name's Barry. What's yours?"

"Eureka."

"That's an unusual name."

"I think it's Greek for 'I've found it', but I'm not sure… My mom likes really weird stuff."

"Does she know you come here?"

"Yeah, but I don't think she really cares. She spends most of her time on the road, hunting for antiques, and I don't see my father a lot 'cause he's a diplomat, so I live with my uncle."

"Well, there are all types of families," he said, thinking back to Mrs. Doubtfire.

"Do you have a family?" she asked.

"A wife and two daughters," he replied despondently. He missed them more than anything right now.

Eureka came over to the bed, sitting down next to him. "How come you're here?"

"To be honest…" he started slowly, questioning whether he should be discussing this with her or not, "… I'm not sure. I woke up here yesterday, and I don't remember much of the night before…"

She didn't reply right away, looking at the door for a long time. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Go ahead."

"I've never told anyone this… I don't know for certain, but from what the other patients have told me, I think this ward might be breaking the law…"

"What do you mean?"

"I've heard that bad things go on here. People go missing, die for no apparent reason…"

"Those things can be explained with simple answers, though. Maybe they went home, or had some sort of disease."

"But sometimes, my uncle brings his work home…"

Barry just stared at her.

"He'll bring home a patient and take them into the back part of the house… Sometimes they come back out, sometimes they don't…"

He shook his head in disbelief. "What?"

"There are secret rooms in the back of the house. I've never seen them, because I'm not allowed to go in there, but I know he takes people back there and does things to them."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. He won't talk about it." She stopped, listening for any sounds in the hallway.

"So why haven't you ever told anyone?"

"Because the last time he did that, it was this man who used to be his physician's assistant. From what I heard, he'd been snooping around… Uncle Conrad brought him home, took him into the back rooms and no one ever saw him again…"

"You don't think he'd hurt you, do you?"

"I don't know. My grandparents always said he was the black sheep of the family and my father called him a psycho a lot…"

The door suddenly opened, and they both jumped. Dr. Heilen stepped into the room, smiling as he usually did, and closed the door behind him. "Having a nice visit, Barry? I see you've met my niece."

"Hi, Uncle Conrad!" Eureka said, going over to him and giving him a hug.

"Are you ready to go to lunch?" he asked, and she nodded. "Alright then. Barry, you can out to the day room now."

Dr. Heilen held the door for him.

"Goodbye, Barry!" Eureka called after him as he walked down the corridor.

The day room looked eerie in the dim light that came through the windows. Everything was shrouded in shadows, as if dusk had begun to fall in the late morning. His three companions were seated in the same spot as yesterday, Jill and William looking outside in silence, while Alfred was drooling on himself.

"Guys," he said quietly when he got over to them, pausing to see if the charge nurse at the desk was paying attention. "I just heard something very disturbing…"

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Well, the plot is beginning to come together some more – I already know where it's going to go from here, so I can tell you the next chapter will be really weird, and probably somewhat suspenseful. Hopefully next time, though, I'll update it sooner. Now I've got to go work on a bunch of other stuff…

Okay, if you're reading this, leave me a review and let me know what you think!