gash all the same. Mousy was turning his head back and forth, searching for where our enemy went.
The faint thump of a knocked over book hitting the ground alerted me to imminent attack, and my eyes swung towards the source. There it was, coming out from behind another shelf, sinuous, whip-like, and unearthly fast. In sheer panic I kicked out a foot, catching it under the head as it rose to bite once more.
To my delight, the blow sent it flying backwards, hitting a wall and falling to the ground in a coiled heap. I picked a heavy tome from the nearest shelf, and walked over to finish the creature.
It was... a worm of some kind, a deep purple in color. Five, maybe six feet long, multi-segmented, each segment of its body like joined together rings. Wiry bristles covered its body, which I assumed were used for locomotion. The strength of all of them pushing at once would explain its great speed. Five small tentacles sprouted from its face, framed by two huge mandibles which must have been what cut me.
I raised the heavy book, ready to bring it down upon the Purple Worm and end its monstrous life. Of course, then it spoke to me. In Warden Copley’s voice.
"Please..." it gasped, "don’t kill me. I did not... want to become this!"
I hesitated, book ready to strike. Copley was a vicious man who had always treated me badly. But no man deserved to become one of these monsters. He uncoiled slowly, as if badly hurt. And then lunged, mandibles opened wide and taking me in the ankle. I went down hard, the thud of my fall muffled by his laughter as he struck me again.
Blood spurted and I knew I was in trouble. Mousy rustled in terror and ran at the beast, trying to ravage it with his teeth for all the good that would do. The Copley Worm grabbed me by my other leg and started thrashing from side to side, like a dog rending a new favorite toy.
Just as I thought the end would come, I felt the Worm lifted from me. I looked up to see it soaring through the air, thrown once more into a wall. An old man appeared standing over me, reaching down a hand to help me up. Black, pinstripe pants, while silk shirt, black jacket, and even blacker tie. A serious, almost hawk-like face of a man in his sixties peered down at me, wireframe spectacles entirely at home on his quizzical face.
"Siegfried?" I guessed, grasping his hand and getting to my feet. I was afraid to look down at them, for fear that I wouldn’t have any.
Siegfried saw my concern and smiled, raising an eyebrow. I looked down and both feet were intact, along with both legs. Not a wound in sight.
"How do you do the whole ‘healing me’ thing?" I asked, raising an eyebrow of my own. I must admit, I wasn’t as good at it as him.
He pointed towards our crumpled opponent, indicating that there was little time for explanations. The Copley Worm was already getting itself oriented once more, ready to strike.
"I have conserved all the strength I have for this day," Siegfried said, facing the Worm and raising a hand. "Now that we have our chosen warrior, we shall take back what is ours!"
"Foolish spirit," The Copley Worm hissed. "You choose a little girl as your warrior? I have enjoyed beating her many times over."
Mousy rustled pointedly and Siegfried glanced down at him, an expression of surprise on his face.
"Paul Souris, I almost forgot about you. You have guarded her faithfully and served her well. Now you must do all you can to aid her at the last."
He waved a hand towards Mousy, and my friend flickered, sparkled, and changed, appearing as he too must have in life. A youth not much older than myself, sandy brown hair the color that his fur had been, bangs hanging down over those ever blue eyes that I knew so well.
Siegfried was weary from his efforts, his own form flickering briefly so that the slug was visible for just a moment, before reasserting itself as a tired old man.
"At last!" Paul shouted cheerfully in a light French accent. "I can speak in more than rustle!"
The Copley Worm hissed and launched itself towards us.
"Although perhaps not for very long..." Paul added sadly as our enemy bore down on us.
But I had a bit more confidence now, now that I had some help. And Paul still seemed to have rodent-like reflexes, stepping quickly to the side ready to intercept our attacker. I started to do the same, planning to kick its side as it shot past us, before I realized it had switched targets. Why go for some loopy mental girl, when it could attack the leader of its enemies first?
It was almost upon Siegfried, who was too tired to flee, when I threw myself on top of it, holding it down with my bodyweight. Twisting, writhing, going insane with movement, it threw me sideways and watched me slide across the ground with an oomph. But I’d given Paul enough time to act, who stomped down on its head with vicious force, stunning it. With a grin, he picked it up and flung it against the wall for a third time.
I got to my feet, took my cue to finish the creature, and picked up the heavy tome I had threatened it with earlier. Whack, whack, thud. It was a heavy book. I kept hitting it just to be sure, until Paul grabbed my arm and gave me a concerned look like I was pyscho or something. I glanced down at the Copley Worm. I had reduced its poor little wormy head to pudding.
Chucking the book aside with a sheepish grin on my face, I wiped my hands of a job well done and turned towards Siegfried.
"Oky doke, Pops, I got that one dealt with. What do you say we go smash this Directory guy and teach him a lesson about turning people into Monsters?"
Siegfried smiled and motioned with a hand for me to lead the way. Mousy fell into step beside me, while Siegfried followed just a little ways behind. I opened the door on the far end to find one final hallway, which ended at a door marked ‘Executive Offices’.
It was here that I saw them, lined up against the walls, silent guardians on the road to Hell. The Killer, Twisted Puppet, Skeleton, Green Ooze, Scarecrow and Shambler. Eleven more Tormentor’s that I hadn’t met stood alongside them, each more insane and disturbing than the last. They formed a line all the way to the Director’s office.
The Skeleton’s eyes flashed and he beckoned me forwards with a wave of one bony digit.
"The Director will see you now," he hissed, and I realized in alarm that it was in the emotionless voice of the former Dr. Sirius.
Walking between their silent ranks was perhaps the most terrifying thing I’ve ever experienced, their heads turning to watch me as I passed, gazes locked onto me with a malevolent hate. I thought about running, but I didn’t have much choice but to obey the Skeleton’s words. For if I ran, then seventeen Tormentor’s would fall upon us like wolves upon three lambs.
An eighteenth Tormentor opened the door as we reached it, holding it open politely. It was the Elegant Statue. Once we’d passed through, he closed it gently behind us and led us through a small waiting room to another door. Once more he held it open for us, this time waiting without as we all entered. The quiet sound of the door shutting behind us was one of the more ominous things that I’ve heard in life. I shared a glance with Mousy and Siegfried and I think we all took courage from one another.
We found ourselves in a large, oval room, edges lined with various cabinets and lamps, all made of only the highest quality. Polished redwood was a major design choice in the room and most of the furniture was made from it. Uncountable degrees and awards lined the walls, including two Master’s in Psychology. Three couches and a table sat in the center of the room, with an exquisite desk and chair located at the far end, in front of a wide bay window.
The window took up an entire wall and held my gaze for a while. For I had expected it to be facing the world outside the Ward, but instead it was facing within, looking over the Yard where the Hooded Man had attacked me so very long ago. I almost smiled as I saw the Tree that I had always loved so much. It was so close I felt like I’d be able to touch it if I only opened the window. I could even still see the stars twinkling in its upper branches.
It wasn’t until he stood, that I noticed the figure who had been sitting
in the chair by the desk. He walked out from behind it and bowed politely. So identical to Siegfried in appearance, I felt surely they must be related. Same classy dress, same hawk-like face, about the same age. But whereas Siegfried’s face radiated wisdom and a weary sort of kindness, this one had sharper features, edged by hatred and power.
"Are you the Director?" I asked him, not sure I’d got the right person. He wasn’t quite the creature from Hell that I had expected.
"And you must be Nillium Neems," he stated, ignoring my question. "You have caused more trouble than I would have thought possible. I truly must congratulate Siegfried on that," and here he gave a brief nod to the former director of Atrium. "He has done a remarkable job in seeking vengeance against me."
The Director ignored Paul entirely, apparently deciding he wasn’t even worth his notice.
"Did you kill Siegfried?" I asked, already quite certain of the answer.
The Director only laughed. Siegfried remained silent. It seemed it was my place and mine alone to face our enemy.
"The fool left me with little choice. I wanted power he wouldn’t give me in my lowly position of Treasurer. So I had to, ahem, ‘elevate’ my role in Atrium Psychiatric Ward."
"By killing my father!?" I shouted angrily, taking a step towards him.
"Is that what you were told?" The Director replied, laughing once more.