Nurse Mary Edwards remembered the darker times of the hospital. When expenses became excessive, and funding became scarce. A time when Director Powell was forced to think about closing the asylum. Nurse Edwards recalled the agony of considering leaving this house after ten years of service. It was the only place she had ever called home. She had been raised in poverty and fled into an unhappy marriage at a very young age. During the war, she became a nurse and never looked back after it became clear that her husband would not return from the beaches of Normandy. Working as a nurse at the Westwood Mental Asylum had always been challenging, but she was dedicated and diligent. When Nurse Richards retired, she secretly hoped to become Chief Nurse.
When the asylum faced bankruptcy, it was thanks to the Torchwood Institute that the worst could have been avoided. Their funding meant the turnaround, and they were even able to renovate the desolate parts of the building and transform the garden into the lovely park it was today. In return, the Institute used the hospital for its own purposes, and everyone was instructed not to ask any questions. Early on, they'd replaced the resident doctor with a new one. Doctor Albert Winslow's methods were far more modern and experimental, and his success rate was impressive.
Something nobody mentioned was the odd noises they heard at night. Or that patients occasionally vanished without a trace, as if they never existed. Or that new patients were found aimlessly wandering through the woods. Strange things happened at Westwood, but the opportunity to help the mentally ill outweighed the strangeness.
Mary had a strong physique and a strength that even the boys in her school days admired. It had always been to her advantage that she had no difficulty hauling male patients out of bed and into wheelchairs. She wondered how her younger colleagues, Lynn Hopkins and Keris Clarke, got around. Keris was attractive, tall and slender, almost fragile, while Lynn was the opposite, short and unimpressive. Nice girls, but they'd never get by without a helping hand.
Her most recent assignment was unusual. At Westwood, supervising a single patient was unheard of. They were chronically understaffed, and every available hand was required in the day room to make the patients' days as pleasant as possible. Mary wondered what made this patient so unique that he needed such extra care. When Chief Nurse Richards and Director Powell informed her of her new responsibilities regarding Mr Jack Harkness, they had been very cryptic. She only knew she had to accompany the patient during her shift and keep him constantly sedated, which was an odd request given that he was securely fastened to his bed. He would pose no threat to himself or others under these circumstances.
Every new patient was subjected to a thorough medical examination to determine the best course of treatment. Doctor Winslow had scheduled an appointment for her patient this morning. Perhaps she would learn more about her patient while assisting the doctor.
Aside from pills and injections, medical research in the physiological field had made great strides in recent years, and Doctor Albert Winslow was one of its pioneers.
Lobotomy and electroconvulsive therapy, to name a few, had proven to be effective therapeutic measures. Of course, the doctor never tired of researching new and better ways to help their patients.
She always learned something new during such an examination and looked forward to it all morning.
Nurse Edwards pushed the wheelchair with a slumped-over Jack into the examining room at ten o'clock sharp. As Doctor Winslow entered the room from his adjacent office, she heaved her patient onto the examination table.
"Good morning, Mary," the doctor greeted her cheerfully. He was always in a good mood.
"Good morning, Doctor Winslow," she politely replied.
"Oh, Mary, please call me Albert. This isn't the first time I've asked you to be less formal," he chided her in a flirtatious tone.
"Of course. Good morning, Albert," she replied shyly. She felt out of place, calling him by his first name. He was quite an impressive man. Tall, with white hair, a goatee and a hawklike nose. Most women would not describe him as attractive, but Mary was captivated by his commanding presence.
"Much better," he said, satisfied, and turned to face his new patient. After strapping Jack to the examination table, he began a routine health check while telling Nurse Edwards about his plans for the morning.
The information she received was so bizarre and unheard of that it called into question the foundation of her beliefs. She was allowed to see everything with her own eyes, which frightened her. To witness someone die and resurrect seemed like a divine gift, but it was unnatural. Was this a freak of nature or the work of the devil?
Sometimes it was hard not to ask questions.
The following two days passed uneventfully. Nurse Edwards cared for her patient, never leaving the strange man alone. The daily walk in the garden was the only deviation from the routine. To avoid bed sores from laying in bed for too long, nurses were instructed to take bed-bound patients outside for an hour every day, weather permitting.
Mary was relieved to leave the patient's room now and then. She often felt claustrophobic after sitting by his bedside for too long. It was as if the cold breath of the devil was sucking the air from her lungs. It made her heart race and gave her hot flashes.
The crisp autumn air was refreshing and cleared her mind. She was pushing Jack down one of the gravel roads, straightening his back occasionally, when he slumped over in his wheelchair. She wondered if he noticed the pleasant weather through his half-closed eyelids. After a while, she began to feel watched. While she looked around, she saw the new nurse, Ianto Jones, on the other side of the park with the elderly Mrs Whittaker in her wheelchair. He stared over at her intently. When he noticed her staring back, he lowered his gaze and pushed the elderly lady forward more quickly. Mary's gaze followed him as he walked away. Why did he look at her like that?
She became distracted when Jack began to move in his wheelchair. Were the drugs already starting to wear off? Again? She shook her head and started pushing the wheelchair back to the terrace; she needed to get him back to his room.
Mary Edwards received the information about a new appointment with Doctor Winslow the next day, shortly before bedtime. The order came with further instructions. The doctor wanted him to stop taking any drugs before the upcoming examination.
His earlier blood samples had been inconclusive because of the sedatives in his bloodstream. The doctor needed blood samples for his research that were not contaminated by sedatives before or after death.
Mary was still at a loss for words about what she had witnessed at the first examination. The resurrection from the dead. She had seen some strange things, but this abomination frightened her. She could not understand why this man deserved such a gift from God while devoted believers like her did not.
She was familiar with this kind of man. Popular by default, concealing their true nature behind smiles and good looks. Arrogant, power-hungry and oppressive. Before she started working as a nurse, her whole life had been dominated by men with such characteristics. Her experience and what she had seen during Dr Wilson's medical examination convinced her that this man was dangerous.
She had been dutifully sedating and restraining him over the last few days. She was surprised at how powerful it made her feel, but she thoroughly enjoyed it. No man would ever rule her life again.
Nurse Edwards skipped the evening injections and gagged him instead to prepare him for his next appointment. She didn't want him to wake the entire building if he started screaming.
The air was stuffy, and the walls felt like closing in when Nurse Edwards entered the room the following morning. She walked over to the other side of the room and opened the barred windows to let in some fresh air. The nurse had been aware that her patient's eyes had followed her every move since she entered the room.
"Good morning, Mr Harkness," she smiled as brightly as she could. She was nervous and not looking forward to speaking with this strange and eerie man.
He could only respond with a grunt as the gag she had put on him still silenced him. With reddened eyes, he looked at her pleadingly. His dishevelled appearance indicated that he had screamed a lot during the night.
"I will remove the gag if you promise not to scream. It wouldn't do much good anyway. We are in a mental hospital. No one would bat an eyelid if you did," she explained to him.
Jack looked at her for a moment before nodding slowly.
After she had freed him from the metal shackle, he could breathe more easily.
"Thank you," he whispered hoarsely.
She supported his head and put a glass of water to his lips, which he sipped thirstily. He coughed and took a deep breath after she had lowered his head again.
"You have a doctor's appointment at noon. Doctor Wilson wants you to be conscious and alert, which is why we aren't sedating you right now."
"Please let me go," Jack pleaded, trying to get some strength into his voice.
"I don't think that's going to happen anytime soon," she said simply as she wiped his sweaty face with a damp cloth. As she bent over him to check his bonds, she began to feel dizzy.
Mary stood up slowly and rubbed her forehead.
Jack watched her intently. "Everything all right?"
"Yes, uh ..." she said vaguely as her face flushed. "I'm just a little dizzy."
Her heart raced in her chest. Why was she feeling like this?
Jack smiled as reassuringly as he could.
And why was he grinning at her? She wondered and stepped back. Was this sudden bout of vertigo his fault? What kind of monster was he? Resurrection was unnatural. Who knows what else he could do? The darkness had no boundaries. What if the devil possessed him? Fear gripped her heart, and she panicked. What was going on? Had he taken control of her body? Her fear quickly spiralled out of control.
"What are you doing? Stop, stop, for the love of God, leave me alone!" She tried to shield herself with her bare hands.
She was so overwhelmed by her panic attack that she did not notice his confused look. Frantically, she grabbed the scissors from her medicine trolley and held them defensively in front of her. Something inside her snapped when he tried to get up despite his restraints. She lunged forward and stabbed him in the heart. Again and again, until the blood gushing from the deep cuts made the metal in her hands slick.
Everything happened so fast that Jack only realised what was happening when it was too late. He stared at her with wide eyes while his breathing became heavy.
"Why did you do that?" he wheezed painfully.
"Has the devil sent you?" she wailed. "I will not yield! God is both my saviour and my protector!"
"What?" he coughed. Then his breathing slowed, and his eyes dimmed as his heart stopped beating.
Mary watched him die with fascination as she slowly put the scissors back on the chart. Killing someone had been surprisingly easy. She took a step closer and ran her hand through the blood pooling on his chest and dripping onto the floor. She was fascinated by the bloodstains on her hand. Then she spread her fingers and smeared the blood all over her face before rubbing her hands dry on her apron.
As a bold thought crossed her mind, a hint of madness spread through her eyes. What if his immortality was in his blood? What would happen if she tasted his life essence? Would she also become immortal? If he deserved such a gift from God, she surely deserved it just as much. Her lips trembled with maniacal laughter.
Doctor Wilson would be furious when he discovered what she had just done. She would not get another chance to taste his immortality if she didn't do it now. She reached for the half-empty water glass and poured the contents on the floor. Then she dipped it into the stream of blood that dripped incessantly onto the floor until the glass was half full again.
The warm iron smell that rose to her nostrils as she held the glass to her mouth almost made her gag. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes while she tried to swallow it all at once. Some of the blood ran down her chin and stained her already bloody uniform even more.
At that moment, the door opened, and Doctor Wilson stepped inside. He was looking for Nurse Edwards and his patient, who were overdue for their appointment.
"Dear God in Heaven, what are you doing, nurse!" he exclaimed in horror. He was taken aback by the sight of pure madness before him.
Jack came back to life with a loud gasp. Mary let the glass slip from her hands, and it shattered on the stone floor. She stared at the resurrected man and then turned to the doctor.
"I... I... don't know," she stammered. Then she looked down at her blood-stained hands, and the veil of confusion finally lifted from her mind. "What have I done?" she wailed. Then she slapped her hands in front of her face and started screaming.