Chapter 5:
Lotus read another headline in the newspaper related to murder, and she asked Rose again, "Rose, please tell me, if you were to commit a murder, how would you do it?" Rose initially hesitated, but then she said, "If I were to do it in self-defense, I would first kill that ward boy, then the head of the mental asylum, and after that, my parents, Nita and James." Lotus asked, "And how would you do it?" Just as she asked this, the screen went dark, and the scene shifted to the canteen of the mental asylum, where the ward boy was washing dishes. Suddenly, he felt like someone had been staring at him for a long time. The ward boy scanned his surroundings and shouted, "Who's there? Who is here?" But he didn't get any response. He felt a chill run down his spine, but he tried to brush it off as his imagination and continued washing the dishes.
However, the feeling of being watched persisted, and he started to feel uneasy. He tried to shake off the feeling, thinking it was just his paranoia, but the sensation only intensified. The lights in the canteen began to flicker and then went out, except for one red light that remained on. The ward boy exclaimed, "There wasn't a red light here before! And what happened to the other lights? Who's here? If any mental patient is here, I'm not in the mood for games. Come out, or I'll...". His voice trailed off as he stood frozen in fear, trying to muster up the courage to investigate.
With a surge of adrenaline, he picked up a pan and cautiously stepped out of the canteen to check if anyone was there. But he didn't see anyone. He breathed a sigh of relief, thinking it was just his imagination playing tricks on him. "It must be my imagination; I'm just being paranoid," he muttered to himself. As he turned around to go back, he saw a figure in black standing right in front of him, wearing a mask that concealed their face. Before he could react, the figure attacked him with a steel plate, and the ward boy crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
The atmosphere was thick with tension and fear as the ward boy's world went dark. The flickering lights, the eerie silence, and the sudden attack all contributed to a sense of dread that lingered long after the ward boy fell to the ground. The figure loomed over him, their face hidden behind the mask, their intentions unknown. The only sound was the faint hum of the red light, casting an ominous glow over the scene.
As the ward boy lay unconscious, the figure stood over him, their presence a dark and foreboding omen.
The killer dragged the ward boy, grasping both his hands with her own, towards the furnace, the sound of his muffled screams and pleas echoing through the desolate room. The flames danced in the furnace, casting flickering shadows on the walls as the killer positioned the ward boy in front of it. With a calculated move, she poured scalding hot water from a pan onto the ward boy's face, his eyes snapping open in agony as he let out a blood-curdling scream. The sound was shrill and piercing, but there was no one to hear his cries for help.
As the ward boy thrashed about in pain, the killer showed no signs of mercy. With a swift motion, she picked up a sharp knife and placed the ward boy's hand on a table, her eyes cold and unyielding. The blade sliced through the air, severing one of the ward boy's fingers, which fell to the ground with a soft thud. The ward boy's scream turned into a wail as he writhed in agony, but the killer's expression remained unmoved.
The killer then fetched a bucket of acid, which she had perhaps carefully planned and placed there earlier. With a twisted sense of purpose, she began pouring the acid onto the ward boy's body, his skin sizzling and melting away like wax in a furnace. The ward boy's cries grew louder, more desperate, as the acid ate away at his flesh, revealing the raw, pulsing skin beneath. The stench of burning flesh filled the air, mingling with the sound of the ward boy's anguished screams.
As the killer continued her gruesome task, she showed no signs of fatigue or remorse. With the knife, she began to scrape away the burned skin, the sound of the blade gliding over the raw flesh sending shivers down the spine. The ward boy was still alive, his body convulsing in agony as the killer subjected him to this unspeakable torture.
Finally, when the killer seemed satisfied with the extent of her handiwork, she lifted the ward boy's battered body and tossed him into the furnace. The flames engulfed him, consuming his broken form in a blaze of fire. The ward boy's screams were abruptly silenced as he succumbed to his injuries, his body reduced to ashes in a matter of moments. The killer stood there, watching the flames dance, her face expressionless, her eyes cold and calculating. The room fell silent, the only sound the crackling of the flames as they devoured the ward boy's remains.
The screen flickered, and the scene shifted back to the conversation between Rose and Lotus. Lotus's eyes widened in horror as she exclaimed, "Oh my God, that would be a spine-chilling death! But why do you want to kill him like that?" Rose's expression turned cold and calculating as she began to recount her past.
The scene flashed back to the day Rose was brought to the mental asylum. She was just a young girl, vulnerable and scared, as she was taken to the doctor's room for shock treatment. The ward boy, who was supposed to be helping her, instead tried to touch her inappropriately, taking advantage of her fragile state. From that day on, he made it a point to harass her every day, making her life in the asylum even more unbearable.
Rose's voice trembled with anger and disgust as she recounted the ward boy's actions. But then her expression changed, and a hint of gratitude crept into her voice. "It became easier when Devil came to the asylum," she said. "She would always be there to protect me, and the ward boy would keep his distance."
Lotus's curiosity was piqued, and she asked, "Who is Devil?" Rose's eyes seemed to glaze over, lost in thought, as she replied, "I don't know her real name. Everyone just calls her Devil. She's always been there, lurking in the shadows, and never leaves her own case."
The air was thick with tension as Rose's words hung in the air, leaving Lotus with more questions than answers. What was Rose's past like? Who was Devil, and what was her connection to Rose? The scene ended with a sense of foreboding, leaving the us wondering what would happen next.
As the screen went dark, I turned to Jack and said, "Can't we watch a little more?" Jack's response was cautious, his brow furrowed with concern. "We can do that, but it might cause trouble for Rose. And besides, if you write it out in bits and pieces, you'll be able to give better details."
I nodded thoughtfully, considering Jack's words. He was right, of course. I didn't want to put Rose in a difficult spot, and I knew that pacing out the story would allow me to flesh out the characters and plot more effectively.
"Alright, Jack, no problem," I said, standing up to leave. "I'll head home now." My voice was tinged with a mix of frustration and resignation, but also a hint of determination. I was eager to get started on writing out the story, to bring the characters and world to life in my own words.
As I turned to leave, Jack's eyes met mine, and I could sense a spark of understanding there. He knew I was excited about the project, and he was willing to guide me through it. "Take care," he said, his voice softening slightly. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"
I smiled, feeling a sense of gratitude towards Jack. "Yeah, see you tomorrow," I replied, and with that, I headed out the door, my mind already racing with ideas and plot twists. The darkness outside seemed to energize me, and I felt a thrill of anticipation as I thought about the story waiting to be told.
As I drove home, I couldn't help but feel the weight of exhaustion bearing down on me. I hadn't slept in days, and the lack of rest was starting to take its toll. The rhythmic hum of the car's engine and the soft glow of the dashboard lights seemed to lull me into a state of drowsiness. My eyelids grew heavy, and I struggled to keep them open, the road ahead blurring into a hazy mess.
The tension I had been feeling all day, courtesy of Rose's vivid imagination, had left me drained. I had been so caught up in her world that I had forgotten to let Sophia know I was heading home. A pang of guilt shot through me as I realized I had neglected to inform my partner of my plans. Sophia was going to be furious.
I groaned inwardly, feeling a sense of dread wash over me. I quickly grabbed my phone and dialed Sophia's number, hoping to mitigate the situation. As the phone rang, I took a deep breath and prepared myself for the impending lecture.
"Hello, babe, I'm on my way home," I said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. "I'm really tired, and I'm struggling to stay awake. Can we catch up later?"
There was a pause on the other end of the line, and for a moment, I wondered if Sophia had hung up on me. But then, without saying a word, the call disconnected. I winced, knowing I was in for a long night. Sophia's silence spoke volumes, and I couldn't blame her. I had been neglecting her, and now I was paying the price.
I sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and guilt. I knew I had to make it up to Sophia, but for now, I just focused on getting home safely. The drive seemed to stretch on forever, my exhaustion and anxiety combining to make the journey feel like a blur.
To be continue....