Page 17 of Ravage
I’m sorry that I can’t get you out of here, but maybe you can get yourself out of this nightmare with this.
Timothy
The paper shakes in my hands, my eyes flitting over to the knife that lays next to the plate, shining like a beacon of hope. A wave of nerves rushes through me, and I quickly look back at the door, thinking I’m being punked. No one comes in. A sound isn’t made on the other side of the door. The knife continues to sparkle under the light. My fingers drift over it, the steel frigid against my fingers. The sharp edge gleams, beckoning me like a lover. I shake my head and push the cart away with a burst of anger. “Fuck!” I scream over and over into the room for no one else to hear. I kick the cart, and it slams against the wall with a crash. The glass falls over, and water spills onto the concrete below. “I’m not weak!” I yell into the void, picking up the plate of food and flinging it against the door. The plate shatters into pieces, sending food flying all over the place.
“Are you sure about that?” I whip around to see my parents standing against the wall, looking at me with concern.
“Yes, I’m sure!” I yell at them, my fists clenched at my sides.
“Aren’t you tired, Sloane?” My mom asks, her voice soft like she’s speaking to a feral kitten. “We miss you, sweetheart.” My dad says, his voice thick with tears that fall down his bloody cheeks. “Come be with us.” My mom sticks out her hand, and I just stare at it. “It won’t hurt.” She says as her eyes become glassy with tears. I look back at the knife and at her outstretched hand, motioning for me to take it. “Sloane, we can be a family again.” Those words cause tears to fall from my eyes. I walk over to the cart, picking up the knife and timidly grasping it in my hand. My mother's eyes shine with pride as I walk towards her and grab her hand. My father smiles at me and he wraps an arm around my waist. “You’ve always been my good girl.” My father kisses my cheek and then continues, “Close your eyes, sweetheart.” His words are like a blanket as they wrap me in warmth. My eyes drift closed, and I let out a small sniffle as my mother's other hand grabs mine, tightening my grip on the knife. I feel the sharp edge against my throat, the slight prick of pain against my skin. “We love you.” My mother's words make me smile as she drags the blade against my throat. And they’re right. It doesn’t hurt. The pain is nonexistent as blood drips down my neck, soaking into my hospital gown. My breathing becomes choppy, and I feel myself collapse onto the floor. My eyes slip open enough to see my parents smiling faces as darkness and peace invade me.
Halstead has had me running around all fucking day, tending to his least favorite jobs. I've been cleaning up shit, blood, piss, and come all afternoon. And the most annoying part is he hasn’t even let me participate either; he just makes me stand and watch as he doles out the treatments. Something about “punishment” for me keeping ahostagein his asylum. I don’t even know what he’s so pissed about, honestly; the room was empty, and I’ve been feeding her food that I brought from home. I'm exhausted by the time I get to Sloane, but I'm gladI changed my scrubs before coming here. I don’t think she’d appreciate the miscellaneous stains littering the fabric. Swiping my badge against the keypad, the door beeps as it unlocks for me to push it open. “Sloane, I’m back.” The room is quiet, and an odd sensation skitters up my spine. When I turn around, Sloane's bed is empty, and the food cart is upturned against the wall, with a puddle of water beneath it. “Sloane?” Looking around the room, I see her fingers peeking out at the end of the bed, making me chuckle. “Hide and seek, huh.” I tap my shoe against the floor, humming to myself, “Hmmm, I wonder where you could be.” I walk quietly to the other side of the bed and see Sloane spread out on the floor, her face turned towards the cold cement, her hair is fanned out around her. “Found you. You’re not very good at this game.” She doesn’t move or react to my teasing words. “Sloane?” I nudge her with the toe of my shoe into her side where I know she’s ticklish, but still no sounds arise from her.
I kneel down next to her, running my fingers through her knotted hair. “Sloane, stop acting like a child.” I grip her head and turn her face towards me. Her eyes are dull, lacking their usual shine, and her skin is ashen and cold to the touch as opposed to her typical glowing warmth. Then I notice the red mess lying beneath her. “What the fuck!” I yell and turn her body all the way over; her front is smeared with blood that soaks into her hospital gown. Her neck is lined with a thin, precise cut that is dried with blood. A bloody knife lays beside her. “No, no, no…” My nurse training kicks in and I check for her pulse, which is not there. I lean my ear down towards her chest, and its unmoving beneath me with no flutter of a heartbeat. I brush her hair from her face, staring down at her speechless. For once I see all of her imperfections. Her once perfect face holds wrinkles around her eyes with deep purple bags under them. Flawless skin is replaced with blotchy, oily slick skin with large pores. My face twists indisgust as I stare at her. Her hair that was once bouncy and shining with luster is dull and knotted around her head.
Getting up off the floor I gaze down at her, waiting for my senses to kick back in. But they don’t. My heart feels empty as I stare down at her. No longer beating with that need to possess her, to perfect her. The usual pull I feel is no longer there. It’s like the fire that I felt for her was snuffed out completely and the cord connecting us cut in the process. My brows furrowed in confusion as I stared at Sloane’s dead body, willing myself to feel something for her. Even if it's anger, but all I'm feeling is numb and empty. Finally I shake my head and turn to leave her room. I look back at her one last time with hope brewing that I’ll feel even a modicum of regret, but it never comes.
The hallway is empty as I search for Timothy, who I finally find in the break room scarfing down a lunch meat sandwich. “There you are.” I plop down in the chair opposite him and grab the sandwich from his hands, taking a bite out of it and moaning at the delectable taste. “I need you to do me a favor.” Timothy stares at me with shock as I eat his sandwich, but he doesn’t dare reach for it. “Sloane’s dead. I need you to dispose of the body.” Those words do get a reaction out of him.
“You have to be joking!” He yells and pushes up from his seat, his hands slamming on the table in front of me. “Dr. Halstead said—” I push back from the table in a rush, leaning into him as I cut off his words.
“I don’t give a fuck what Dr. Halstead said. You will do as I tell you, or I’ll make your life here a living hell.” His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows, his eyes widening in fear. “You saw how easy it was for me to get Sloane locked away in here. Can you imagine how much easier it would be to getyoulocked in here?” My head tilts to the side as I observe him go from worried to terrified in a millisecond. He steps back from the table and watches me as he walks towards the break room door. “That’swhat I thought.” I give him a smile, plop back down in the chair, and start eating the sandwich again. He huffs and pushes his way through the door, leaving me alone to scarf down his food.
I should probably go home and mourn or whatever people do when someone they cared about dies, but I don’t. I went to Sloane’s room because I wanted to get my dick wet and let off some steam, so if she can’t do it, then I’ll have to find someone else. I leisurely walk through the halls, peeking into patients' rooms to see if I can find anyone at least halfway decent, but I come up empty. Not sure how Dr. Halstead only has ugly broads in this place. I plop down on a nearby bench with an exasperated sigh and lean my head back against the wall. The silence in the hall is almost soothing, but my dick aches in my pants and is begging for release. “Goddamnit.” I mutter as I reach into my pants and tug my cock out, “Guess I’ll have to take care of it myself then.” My muttered words are accompanied with a laugh, my head twisting to see the source. Mara is leaning up against the wall in front of me, her arms crossed over her chest. “Did you come for the show?” I eye her as I stroke my cock at a tantalizing pace.
“Ya know, I think we can help each other.” Her lips curve up in a mischievous smile, and she pushes off of the wall and strides towards me. Her scrubs look painted on her, showcasing every luscious curve. Her hair is down today, dark curls bouncing as she walks towards me. “You need to get your dick wet, and I need to piss someone off.” Her eyes gleam, and she veers to the left towards a janitor closet, using her keycard to open the door. Her hand clutches the edge of the door, and fuck, she looks like a sexy little minx standing there. “Well, you coming or what?”
Pushing off the bench, I move towards her, crowding her into the closet and shutting the door behind us. My hand wraps around her throat, pinning her against the wall, her eyes flashing with lust in the low light. “This won’t be sweet.” I whisper, mylips ghosting over her collarbone, pulling a soft moan from her plump lips.
“Good, I like it rough.” Her voice is husky as her hands creep up under my scrub top, and her fingers flutter over my abs, making my cock twitch. My hips jut towards her, her hand drifting down to grab my cock in a tight grip. “Let’s see what you got.” Her teasing words are cut off when my lips crash against hers. She tastes like candy and bad decisions. Her hands work my cock until I’m about to beg to come, but I’m no pussy. I flip her around, pressing her face up against the wall and pulling her hips back towards me. Wasting no time, I have her bottoms pooling around her ankles.
My hands palm her ass as I kick her feet as far apart as her pants will allow them to go. “I think this is the best ass I’ve ever seen. Whoever you’re trying to piss off is lucky as fuck.” I chuckle, running my fingers down her crack to her dripping pussy.
“Would you just shut up and fuck me already?” She hands me a condom, and I can hear her eyes roll with her words and that earns her a harsh slap on the ass. “Fuck!” She exclaims while I roll the condom on, and then she lets out the sexiest moan I’ve ever heard when I impale her on my cock.
“I’m so fucking jealous of this mystery guy.” I growl out as I thrust into her over and over. Her ass jiggles with the momentum, and her hands slap against the wall to help her keep her balance. The closet is filled with nothing but our moans and the stench of dirty sex. My orgasm races up my spine quicker than I had expected. “Jesus fuck!” I groan out as I fill the condom with my come. Mara is quiet as I catch my breath. “Did you come?” I question because I didn’t feel that little flutter that pussies do when they come.
She lets out a scoff, pushing me away to pull her pants up. “Fuck no.” She says with a laugh.
“What the hell, Mara.” My words come out coated with annoyance.
“I told you, I like it rough, and you didn’t deliver.” She shrugs her shoulders, then leaves the closet with me staring at her in shock as she walks away.
“Shit, that guy is lucky as fuck.” I say to no one other than myself and shake my head. A yawn leaves me and the exhaustion I felt earlier starts to creep back in. As I’m rubbing the sleepiness from my eyes, my stomach chooses that moment to growl. I head back through the maze of the Asylum to head home after a long day’s work. The only thing on my mind is what kind of pizza I’ll be treating myself to tonight.
