Mental Reigns

Blinking the haze away stands a man with a bloody axe. Blood drips to the ground revealing a trail to the deep red-coated stump. A chill runs down my spine as goosebumps surface, I jolt forward. My wrists are bound, and I’ve been gagged. What the hell am I doing here? Unless it’s all happening again? Surely this is not real, and I will wake up like before? My breath quickens as I realize the crazed axe-swinging man may have perverted, yet malicious intentions. The last thing I need is for him to realize I am conscious.

“Ah! Pretty little girl! I had hoped you were next, but the boss has better plans for you. Come, we best get you prepared.” Revealed the crazed axe-swinging man.

In each direction, I see bodies. All girls. Dressed like porcelain dolls with stunning yet ugly makeup, gagged and bound and beheaded. My stomach churns, do I have stunning ugly makeup as well? Crunching my face and tightly closing my eyes was all I could manage. I am next and this is the worst time to wake. Couldn’t I have stayed unconscious been beheaded and know no difference? Quivering. A strange quiet. Am I dead? Unfortunately, not so lucky. I peered out, comforted by the padded walls surrounding me in the darkened room. Still in the asylum what a relief. When will these relentless episodes finish?

The gloom fades, yet this episode felt different. My hands fell like dead weights into my lap. No more binds I could breathe freely, and my sigh leaked. Ah, my entitlements to free speech are restored. Maybe I should try it out? No, not a good idea. No one needs to know my episode is finished; avoid those useless drugs where I can. Weakened I stood, noticing the door slightly ajar. I nudged it, the heavy door opened with grace and ease. How peculiar, how suspicious. Surely this is another episode. Wouldn’t be the first time encountering an episode within an episode of twisted psychological torment.

Seeing the ward beyond flashed back to the day I arrived. Today marks day 39 yet seeing the real surrounds it feels like yesterday. A dim light glowed in the corridors. I wonder how many padded cells are here. I wonder how often security passes through. Hugging the wall, tiptoeing around to check the other rooms.

The T-junction came so fast I almost knocked myself out cold. Go left into a maze of corridors? Or go right into a pool of blood trickling down the stairwell. My stomach repulsed and vomit erupted like a volcano. The safety of the padded walls is too far away. Why is there no soul in this place? Why is there blood covering the stairs? No safe place to stand I’ll leave evidence on every step. Have I slaughtered people and then checked myself into the asylum? Surely not. Revulsion soaks through I peer down at my gown smeared with blood. A strange déjà vu struck, perhaps I have succumbed to the vampiric elements. The doctors were wrong all this time. It was not psychosis, I’m not crazy, but nor am I a human. I am a disgusting abomination of the undying world! Just like those episodes warned! The drugs didn’t do this, I’ve always been this. I’ve always been insane. No, wait, they tell me not to use negative language. I am free, I am bold, I am daring, I am --- unexpected. I can test my true powers. I can embrace my future.

In confident stride, my feet feel the cold blood on each step. “Hello world, welcome me – Lucinda Youngblood Vampiric Queen of the underworld!” I reintroduce my surname and title allowing the piecing cackling laugh to follow.

That crazed axe-swinger certainly lead me to freedom and will present me to the boss.