Clair hesitated for a moment. Was he testing her? Waiting just outside the workshop to catch her when she tried to escape? No – he made a mistake. He'd gotten so excited that the thought of her running off hadn't even crossed his mind. This was her chance, and she wasn't about to miss it. She quickly slipped into her jumpsuit and picked up a long, sturdy piece of wood from the floor. It wasn't as handy as her pipe, but it would do for now.
Instead of taking the door Eddie had just gone through, she decided to follow the direction she'd seen the Twins leave. Clair would much rather run into them than Gluskin. Navigating the halls without nightvision turned out to be more of a challenge than she thought. Watching Eddie drag her effortlessly around the complex made it seem easy as well. Thinking back, he'd probably just known the vocational building well enough not to let the darkness impede him. It didn't matter – as long as she was walking in the opposite direction he was, she felt safer. Vision or no vision.
She'd been wandering around for what seemed like hours. Popping her head into rooms and whispering out Waylon's name as loudly as she felt comfortable doing. She'd been heading towards where she assumed the exit was, but had to find Waylon before she got there. She needed to try. There was an itching fear in the back of her mind that he'd left without her. That he'd made a break for the exit once Gluskin took her. If he did, she couldn't really blame him. He'd told her about his wife and two boys – he had a family to get back to. This still didn't relieve the sinking feeling of betrayal.
A loud crash came from the room across from her. Clair held her wood pole up defensively. Her first thought was to walk right by it, but after a quick glance around the hall, she realized that this was the only direction she could go in. She was surprised she hadn't run into many patients so far, and the one's she did met didn't seem to acknowledge she was even there. If she could survive Eddie, she could survive any patient. Clair inched towards the dark room, the sounds of someone moving around still apparent. Going in blind was a bad idea. At least out in this hall the windows provided a little light. Clair positioned herself outside of the door and waited, her weapon raised above her head.
It wasn't long before she heard the patient start to walk towards the door. She'd make it quick, one bap over the head and she'd be on her way. It's not like she enjoyed seeking out violence, and if she could go another way she would, but it had to be done. When the man exited the room, Clair pulled back her pole and swung. In mid swing she gasped in horror at who she was attacking. Waylon. Not completely able to stop her momentum, Clair moved lower, smashing the weapon across his stomach. Waylon stumbled back, the air purging from his lungs from the impact.
Waylon groaned, attempting to recover quickly by placing the camera to his face. She heard him curse under his breath then let out an exasperated laugh.
"Good to see you too, Clair," he said, pulling the camera away from his eye. Clair dropped her pole and wrapped her arms around his chest, Waylon returned the hug. "I'm happy to see you made it – I've been looking around this dump for hours."
Clair felt like crying, but she couldn't. Not now – not until they were both out of here could she enjoy the luxury of relief. Their embrace lingered a little longer then Clair pushed herself back, rubbing her nose. The tears had started to come, but she pushed hard to keep them back.
"I'm really happy you're not dead." She said, trying not to laugh at how absurd of a statement that would seem in a normal conversation.
"I'm also very happy I'm not dead." He replied. "Glad you aren't either. I've been making my way to the exit, but I've been popping in and out of every room I've passed to try and find you. When I saw that man drag you off I tried to follow him, but that big guy, the one who kept talking about pigs, somehow found his way into the sewing room. I was hiding in a locker for hours."
The two chuckled and Clair bent down to pick up her pole. "I almost thought you'd left here without me. I wouldn't have blamed you if you did – you have a family to get home to."
"I do need to get back to them." He said while placing the camera in front of his face and motioning for Clair to grip onto his shirt. "But I told you I'd try and look for you. Not that I was much help – you seemed to have gotten away on your own."
Clair paused. She thought about telling him everything. That the man who'd captured her was Eddie, from the file she'd read aloud, and that he'd forced her to 'marry' him in the asylum church. But she didn't want to bring up what had happened after. What she was willing to do to try and get away from him. She felt ashamed just thinking about it – he'd look so happy after they'd finished. The fact that she'd provided a monster like him with any type of satisfaction was numbing. It was even more disturbing that she had felt good during it.
Waylon stopped and Clair moved to look around his body. His camera was facing the floor and she could make out the shape of what looked to be a small doll. Waylon bent down and picked it up, turning it over in his hands a few times before turning to Clair and handing it to her. It was one of those Raggedy Ann dolls with the red hair. It looked pretty beat up, or maybe well loved? She assumed it must have belonged to one of the patients here. She felt Waylon start to move again and she gripped onto his shirt, placing the doll in one of her large pockets. Clair wasn't sure why, but she felt like she needed to keep it. It had been important to someone, and leaving on the floor just didn't seem right.
"I wanted to help them," he said, his voice not having it's usually quirk behind it. "I took this job because I thought the work I'd be doing would help the patients. When I saw how horribly they were being treated – I had to do something. I had sent a letter of it to a reporter, but Mr. Blair, the ass who runs this hell-hole, caught me. Hence the patient outfit – they were going to use me for testing."
Clair stayed silent for a while, not really sure how to respond. She couldn't really help feeling animosity towards a lot of the patients, especially Gluskin. But they were sick. They came here for help. Help they'd never get now.
Before she was able to tell Waylon she supported what he'd done, the sound of a buzz saw cut through the silence. The cannibal. Waylon and Clair turned to see him charging toward them, his saw whirling in his hand. Waylon pushed her to the side and dropped his camera, catching the cannibal's arms before he could bring the saw down. The patient brought up a leg and kicked Waylon into a nearby room, the same one he'd pushed Clair into. She watched the two struggle as she felt the ground around her for some sort of weapon – anything. The man slammed Waylon into the side of the wall. Clair cringed as she heard his head smack against it. She watched, helpless as Waylon sunk to the floor. Was he unconscious? Dead? They'd only just met up again. He couldn't be dead.
The cannibal turned from Waylon and stared at Clair – he'd been after her.
"I told you," he growled, walking towards her slowly. Clair inched back across the ground until her back met with a wall, her heart pounding against her chest. She escaped from one mad man only to be cut up and eaten by another. "I told you, your meat was mine." The patient got on his hands and knees in front of her and crawled till his chest hovered over her legs. She couldn't move – her body felt paralyzed under him. Clair's eyes followed the man's arm as he lifted the buzz saw to her face.
Then he stopped. She heard him choke and saw drops of blood fly from his mouth and onto the front of her shirt. Her gaze followed his to the patient's chest, where a long, thick knife was poking through. The blade quickly withdrew from the man's body and the patient was suddenly pulled off of her and flung to the ground.
Eddie. Oh God he'd found her. Even in the dim light she could tell who it was. He towered over the dying man, his shoulders heaving with rage. In a quick motion Eddie got to his knees and started to stab the cannibal – repeatedly.
"You disgusting fuck!" he bellowed, the front of his white shirt and vest being coated in a thick layer of blood. "You were going to hurt my baby. My family. They're mine. You can't have them!" He shakily lifted himself from the floor and stared down at the bloody pulp he'd left behind. It was hard to recognize the patient as being a person. Clair's body froze when Eddie turned his attention to her, the anger in his eyes not dulling for a second.
"You stupid bitch." Eddie hissed. "Leaving me. Putting my baby in danger? What kind of mother are you?" He crouched over her in the same way the cannibal had done not minutes earlier. Eddie looked completely livid and Clair wasn't sure how she was going to talk her way out of this one. The knife in his hand made an awful noise as he turned it in his hand, the blood squishing and rubbing on his gloves.
"I…I just." Her words weren't coming out right, and Eddie looked far from impressed. The doll. Clair couldn't hold back an anxious, relieved smile as she dug through her pocket. The doll, thankfully, looked no worse for the wear from being in her pocket, and she held it out to him. Eddie opened one of his large hands and she placed the tiny toy into his palm. "We didn't have anything for the baby. I didn't want you doing all the work – so I went looking for a toy."
A shaky sigh passed Clair's lips when he moved away from her to sit on the floor, holding the doll close to his face. His anger seemed to instantly melt away and he looked up from the toy to give her an excited smile.
"Oh, Darling! Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Eddie said cheerfully as he helped Clair off the ground.
"I'd only just thought to look for toys after you left-"she started, but Eddie cut her off, placing a relatively clean finger over her mouth.
"No, not that sweetheart. Why didn't you tell me we were having a little girl?" He asked, looking away from her to admire the doll again. "Or did you want to surprise me and tell me like this? I don't normally like surprises, but I can make an exception here. I'm so thrilled! We're going to have a little angel, a princess!"
He gripped her hand to start dragging her out of the room, but her legs stopped working. Clair had been so scared and she hadn't eaten in almost a day – her body just wasn't having it anymore. Eddie noticed her limbs quiver as she tried to move, and he let out a mocking sigh before lifting her up in his arms.
"Women are so frail," he jeered. "Not to worry though – your husband will take care of you, Darling." As Eddie started to waltz out of the room with her, she turned her head to give Waylon a quick glance. He looked like he was breathing. Thank god. He'd been obscured by some debris so Eddie hadn't see him. This was good. He could still make it out – make it back to his family.
Eddie carried her back down the hall she'd originally come from. She felt like her whole escape was for nothing – she was just going to end up back in his workshop. Back in that blood and body filled nightmare.
"Abigail."
Clair looked up at Eddie, whose eyes were turned down to her. He smiled, and repeated the name.
"Abigail – that's what we're going to name her. It was my grandmother's name, she was a wonderful woman! Would always bring pies over every Saturday. Blueberry mostly, but that was because it was my father's favorite. She just couldn't say no to him." He let out a nostalgic chuckle. Clair was pretty sure he was lying, making up another fantasy to try and cover up the horrible things that had happened to him. She wasn't even sure if he even had a grandmother named Abigail – but it didn't matter. She wasn't about to argue with him.
"That sounds like a wonderful name." Clair said.
"Our little Abby is going to be beautiful, my dear." He said, more to himself than to her. Eddie was staring off in front of himself as he continued to speak. "She'll have your curls – but my hair color of course. With perfect, porcelain skin and bright eyes. What do you think Darling – my blue or your gray ones?"
"What?" she asked. It was hard to follow what he was saying. Clair had been trying to memorize the route he'd been taking them – he'd turned a different corner than what would have brought them back to his work shop.
"Eyes, sweetheart, please try to keep up. I think she'll have yours. But we'll talk more about that later." Eddie placed her down on her feet in front of an unfamiliar door. "I also have a surprise for you Darling, I'm sure you're going to just love it."