Charlotte blinked as distant screams reached her ears. Shaking her head, she closed her eyes, stumbling backwards until her back collided with the hard wall.
A touch of pain shot through her. It wasn’t much, but rather unexpected. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt pain.
An image of a moon-lit night flashed before her eyes. Then, there had been water, too. Cold water. Icy cold. It had threatened to engulf her, but someone had pulled her back to the surface.
Frederick.
A moan escaped her lips as a deep ache bit at her heart, and she almost toppled over. Sinking to the floor, Charlotte hugged her knees, willing away the memories that had left her at peace for so long.
With her head resting on her knees, she tried to fight down the rising panic, taking one long breath after the other.
Then she began to cough.
Lifting her head, Charlotte found herself not surrounded by fog…but by smoke. It stung her eyes and burned in her throat, tearing ragged coughs from within her. Her body convulsed, fighting the invading presence, forcing her out of the place in her mind where no pain existed.
Deep down, a part of her knew she couldn’t stay. If she did, she would be lost.
Get up! A familiar voice whispered, and her eyes went wide, searching up and down the corridor. Save yourself!
“Kenneth?” she asked, holding her sleeve before her mouth and nose. “Kenneth?”
For a moment, a short precious moment, Charlotte was certain that he had come for her, the way he always had.
But there was no one there.
Only smoke.
Get up or die! His voice snarled at her. It’s either or.
Pushing herself to her feet, Charlotte shook her head, trying to clear away the last remnants of the fog that dulled her senses. Where was she?
Winham Institute, her mind supplied.
Charlotte nodded. Yes, that sounded correct. But why was she here?
Then she shook her head. No, that question could wait until later.
Once more looking up and down the corridor, Charlotte realised that she was alone. That was strange. After all, she was never alone. Not when they allowed her out of her cell and took her to see Dr. Watkins. Someone was always with her lest she …
Again, screams reached her ears, mingling with frantic shouting and the incessant ringing of a bell.
Stumbling onward, Charlotte reached for each door on her way down the corridor, only to find them all locked. After a while, she realised that some of the loud noises drilling into her mind came from inside those rooms as though someone was banging on the door, screaming at the top of their lungs.
Were there people in there?
Again, the bell rang, its shrill sound a warning that echoed in her bones.
More coughing shook her body, and she stumbled farther down the corridor, eyes squinted against the smoke, but fixed on the door at the opposite side of the long hallway. Would it be locked, too?
Fear sneaked into her heart as her body fought to survive, pushing her onward. Then the door was within reach; yet, Charlotte hesitated.
Right then and there, she still had hope. However, once she found the door to be locked, it would vanish, leaving her to die alone.
Am I not ready to die? She wondered.
While her mind and heart screamed in confirmation, her body refused to surrender, fighting for supremacy.
Finally, as the smoke nearly took her sight, her hand reached out, slowly inch by inch, searching for the door handle. Finding it, she stood for a moment, uncertain what outcome to hope for.
Then her hand moved as though of its own accord, … and the door sprang open.
Shocked, unprepared for the new decisions that were now forced on her, Charlotte stood and watched as the smoke curled around her legs, reaching out its arms to claim the new space she had opened to it.
Move! Kenneth’s voice snapped, and Charlotte flinched.
Taking a tentative step toward the back staircase, she glanced around, but there was no one there. Screams, however, echoed to her ears like a stampede, hammering at her eardrums with such force that she feared they would burst.
Step by step, Charlotte descended the stairs to the ground floor, then turned around a corner and came face to face with the real-life nightmare that had forced her out of her own. Through the window, she could see into the inner yard of the circular building, its right wing swallowed up by flames, stretching out its arms, hungering for more. Here and there, she saw people running, shouting to each other. Although Charlotte did not recognise them, she knew that very few of them were patients.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to ignore the screams of those trapped in their cells, unable to free themselves. Ought she to go back for them?
Get out now! Kenneth’s voice screamed above the roaring of the fire. Move!
Startled, Charlotte spun on her heel, relieved to leave the fire behind her, and started for the door and the freedom it promised. However, the moment her hand came down on the handle, luck abandoned her.