Chapter 13

Eddie woke up to a resounding slap in the face. He was no longer on the soft bed in a cold room, but in a dim, humid room with only a small rectangular window and a dim, hanging light bulb allowing a little light. His bed creaked, and was quite thin that he could feel the metal bars under it. It smelled of sweat and a little bit of blood.

"Hey, are you dumb?" Eddie yelled in pain as he was slapped in the face again. "Wake up, buddy!"

Eddie squinted to look at the figure that slapped him. It was a man with a bald top, but had a mixture of black and gray hair growing on the sides of his head. He wore round glasses and had thin lips that curled into a sneer. Underneath his lab coat, he wore a white dress shirt with red stains that Eddie hoped wasn't blood, and looked like a preppy college graduate that went to country clubs and had martini lunches.

"Who are you?" Eddie asked as he struggled to get up, his head and abdomen throbbing in pain. "Where am I?"

"Call me Dr. Trager, buddy. Don't forget it—you'll be screaming it soon." Dr. Trager laughed at his own joke, although it didn't sound like a joke to Eddie. "And as for your location, I'm not allowed to say—oh fuck it, it's not like you're getting out of here anyway—you're in Mount Massive Asylum."

"Mount Massive…" Eddie had heard that name before. Mrs. Dalton lived in Colorado growing up, and Mara mentioned that Mrs. Dalton went camping near Mount Massive when she was young. But what did he mean by "getting out"?

"Mount Massive Asylum," Dr. Trager said proudly. "Re-opened by the one and only Murkoff Corporation."

Murkoff…He had heard that name before.

"Asylum?" Eddie was suddenly wide awake. "Why am I in—"

"Let's see now," Dr. Trager looked through a file with a patronizing look. "You gave a confession five days ago, and after going under psychiatric evaluation under one of our psychiatrists, you were declared insane, and you agreed to skip a trial and be sent here."

Eddie couldn't remember any of that. "I don't…why am I on trial?"

"Why—it's all here in your file, boy." He tapped on the folder. He cleared his throat. "I, Edward Gluskin, twenty-six, male, residing in Los Angeles, California, make a full confession under the sound eye of Dr. Carl Huston. After going through psychiatric evaluation, I realize the medical effects of concealing a traumatizing past. I admit to being raped by my father multiple times throughout my childhood as the evidence shows, but telling no one about it and continuing to live with him until I turned twenty. I admit to witnessing the death of my wife and our unborn children. The pain and loss of these two events, according to the doctors, are believed to be the reason of my PTSD, leading to the murder of my colleague and doctor responsible for my wife's birthing, Dr. Alice Hanes, along with nurses Thalia Morgan, Dana Oliver, and Iris Lafferty."

"Wait, what?" Eddie asked incredulously.

"I do not wish to be a burden any longer," Dr. Trager continued. "and hereby commit myself to Mount Massive Asylum, since there is enough evidence to assume my insanity, and be treated by Dr. Huston and other staff psychiatrists of the said asylum—Isn't that nice?"

Eddie believed it was a nightmare he couldn't wake up from. I didn't kill Dr. Alice. I didn't kill anyone. "There must be some mistake," He stood up.

"SIT BACK DOWN!" Eddie didn't notice the guard whose uniform blended in with the walls, pointing his strange-looking gun at him.

"Now, now, sir," Dr. Trager said calmly. "I don't think Mr. Gluskin here—do you mind if I call you Eddie—will be a danger. Not if he wants to live, of course. You can guard from the outside."

The guard looked at Dr. Trager worriedly, and then back at Eddie before heading out.

"I didn't write that, doc!" Eddie screamed. "I swear, I didn't kill anybody."

"But that is your signature, is it not?" Dr. Trager asked politely. "A curvy 'E' and then some squiggles that look like a star or something?"

"That sounds like it," Eddie pressed on. "But the last thing I signed was a…a…"

"That's the sad part about business, kid," The door opened and Eddie recognized the familiar face. "When you don't read things you sign."

"You…" Eddie stammered.

"Me," The man said smugly. "You probably didn't hear me the first time—Jeremy Blaire, Murkoff Corporation."

Eddie knew he had been trapped. He had never felt this scared ever since he was raped for the first time. He could most definitely subdue this Blaire guy, who was lean and probably could fight back in a suit, but the doctor looked dangerous, and so was that gun in the guard's hands. The man smiled smugly at the doctor and continued. "It's done. We've sent the confession a day ago, and just now I got off the phone, telling them how poor Edward Gluskin turned his clothes into a noose and hung himself last night out of guilt. Congratulations, Mr. Gluskin, you are now officially dead to the world!"

This is a nightmare, He tried telling himself more and more, believing it less and less.

"I can't be dead," Eddie said desperately.

"No, but if the government ever looks at our list of patients, which I hardly think they would ever do," Blaire scoffed. "they'll be looking for twenty-six-year old Edward Gluskin, not forty-six-year old Eddie Gluskin—you'd be surprised how you can get overlooked just by that mistake. You can pull off acting forty-six, can 'ya?"

"But then again, they won't go snooping unless you let them, right Jer?" Dr. Trager said casually.

"Nope," Blaire grinned.

Eddie was now scared. "What…what happens to me?"

Blaire looked at him like a lion stalking its prey. "You see, Eddie, here in the asylum, Murkoff has this…project…and it requires someone who has faced enough horrors. We have a few patients here, but no one has faced anything horrific as yours: raped by your uncle and father, abused by your father until your twenties, watched your wife bleed herself to death—I saw what the twins looked like, by the way, that should count as a horror to—and then the fact that you could murder four women and forget about them just screams trauma…possibly enough trauma to make this project successful."

"We're going to see how far the human mind can go, Gluskin. We need you." Dr. Trager said dramatically.

"How…how are you…" Eddie started, but couldn't finish the sentence. He had cried so much over Mara that he couldn't find it in him to cry at himself anymore.

"Shhh…you leave that to us, Eddie." Dr. Trager stood up. "For now, the project's still in it's…well, improving stages—and we don't want to waste that little terror-filled head of yours unless it's ready—until you're ready. Hey Jer, I gotta meeting with Wernicke in a few—mind if I head out?"

"Sure, sure," Blaire replied as Dr. Trager walked out. "See 'ya around."

Blaire turned to Eddie. "As Dr. Trager was saying, we'll have use for you once we're ready. For now, think of it as a very long standby."

He nodded curtly, turning on his heel and heading out the door. Eddie started breathing heavily, hyperventilating. "How long?"

Blaire passed the door before turning to Eddie, his hand on the door knob and his lips curling to an evil smile. "Why four—maybe five—years. Enjoy, Mr. Gluskin."

Jeremy Blaire slammed the door, muffling the screams of Eddie before he could run out the door.