Psychopathia: A Horror Suspense Novel (29 page)

‘So,’
Lara said. ‘Last time we saw each other, remember that?’

Not at all, of course. He shook his head
, begrudgingly giving her his attention. ‘Not really. I was probably pretty messed up back then.’

The pout deepened. ‘I didn’t tell Matt about it anyway.’

He blinked at her.

‘You making a pass at me?’

Toby, you little devil, he thought, and was glad the kid was gone. This girl had no class. Nice piece of meat, but not a high protein level between the ears. Not that he ever ate what he cut. He was crazy, but not that crazy. Closing his eyes for a moment, he felt the weight of the blade in his hand. Felt the tip press, then pierce the skin, and the smell of the blood as it welled up around the blade. He swayed in his seat.

‘Hey Toby, you all right?’ Matt was back at the table, and his hand brushed against Tobias’ shoulder and neck. ‘You’re looking a bit faint.’

Tobias shook himself and opened his eyes. ‘Just memories,’ he said. ‘They can be a little overwhelming.’ He caught the look Matt sent the girl and his mouth twitched in a smile. There was accusation in that look. Good, Matt felt protective of his friend. And that touch on the back of the neck. Tobias wanted to put his fingers to the place where Matt had touched him, but he linked his fingers together on the table top instead and concentrated on keeping them there. He saw Lara roll her eyes but kept his own averted.

‘You didn’t tell me what you wanted to drink,’ Matt said. ‘So I got you your usual.’

‘Thanks, but I should have remembered.’ Tobias allowed himself to look at the young man. ‘I’m not allowed alcohol. The medication, you know.’ Tobias didn’t drink. He had vices, but drinking alcohol had never been one of them. It blunted the senses too much.

Matt’s face coloured slightly. ‘Sorry mate,’ he said. ‘I didn’t think.’ He stood up again. ‘Let me get you something else. A Coke.’

Root beer, Tobias would have said. If they still had it. He liked root beer. It looked enough like real beer that his marks had easily forgotten that he wasn’t getting as drunk as they. But he shook his head.

‘I need to get going. Tully will wonder where I am.’ He stood up. ‘She still gets a little over-protective, what with everything. But it’s been good to see you.’ He couldn’t decide if he’d try to ge
t them both at the same time, or separately. A sudden decision. Separately. Starting with the girl, though he knew he’d be quick with her. Premature evisceration.

Toby couldn’t stop screaming. A weak flow of piss dribbled down his leg. He wrenched his body around, but the hands grabbed him anyway, two pairs of them, one on either side. They threw him down on the gurney and strapped him in. He bucked and pulled on the restraints, but they bit into wrists and ankles and held steady.

‘It’s happening whether or not you put up a struggle,’ the biggest orderly – except they were called assistants – said.

Toby lunged again, squealing like a cornered rat, but large, spatulate hands grabbed him and threw him back on the narrow, wheeled bed. Then shoved something in his mouth. Cloth. He tried to spit it out, but it had been shoved too deep, and he gagged instead on the taste of fresh snot.

They were taking him to the room again. The bathroom. A cold room with tubs all in a row. There’d be one there for him, he knew, waiting there, a trough of water. Cold water. Icy cold water.

It was waiting for him, just like he knew it would be, and it didn’t matter how much he struggled, they were stronger than him, he was just a scrawny bag of bones. He whimpered around the handkerchief, tears sprouting from his eyes. Stop, he wanted to tell them. Stop, he’d be good, he’d never cry again, he’d never do anything wrong again.

‘This’ll do the trick, don’t you think, Tobias?’ The assistant was going to the cupboard in the corner. ‘How long this time, do you think? Ten minutes? Twenty? An hour?’

He wailed behind the gag.

‘An hour it is. Don’t ever say we don’t take your wishes into consideration.’ Hands undid the restraints at his ankles and he kicked out, but they were ready for him and just a moment later it was too late. They had him wrapped, and when he struggled, the sheets wound around him like a shroud just tightened.

The hands grappled with him, and they grunted with the effort of lifting him, but he didn’t hear, he was staring at the bathtub and trying to scream. They were going to put him in that, put him in the water, bound and helpless, and then they were going to leave him there where he couldn’t get out and the cold water would trap him and burrow under his skin and seep right down into his bones and it didn’t matter how much he screamed, the bathroom was far away from anywhere and anyone, and in an asylum no one noticed if you screamed anyway.

They didn’t take the gag out, and he looked up at the one on his right, begging the fleshy face to take pity on him. The man saw him and raised a wispy eyebrow.

‘You want me to take the gag out, right?’

Toby nodded furiously. Yes, yes.

‘And why should I do that? Why should I show you any mercy?’ He looked across the gurney at the other assistant, the big one, the one who had shoved the snotty rag down his throat. ‘You think he deserves our mercy?’

The big guy shook his bald head. ‘Did he show his victims any mercy?’

Teeth bared at him in a grin. ‘The answer to that is no he did not.’

‘Was he a perverted piece of shit?’

‘Yes, he was.’

‘Does he deserve to suffer like the ones he killed?’

‘Why, yes, he does.’ They exchanged grins over his body and he lay there, knowing there was no point fighting, no point doing anything at all.

They lifted him, swung him over the top of the tub, the one waiting already filled with cold water, and then they let go and he hit the water with a shocked gasp that drew the handkerchief farther down his throat. He choked, tried to breath, but now his head was underwater too, and the cold was everywhere, up his nose, in his eyes, in his ears, and in his mouth, making the dirty piece of cloth sodden, and rushing down his throat to fill gullet and lungs. He convulsed, his bound body knocking against the sides of the tub. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe,
could only flop around like a dying fish.

Fingers grasped his hair, pulled his head from under the water, and more fingers forced their way into his mouth, groping, prodding, then grabbing the handkerchief and pulling it out. The hand shook him like a terrier with a rat and he coughed up the water, took a great lurching breath of air and tried to breathe again. The hand let go.

Toby slid along the bottom of the bath, helpless in his wet cocoon of sheets. If he tipped his chin up, held it there, he could suck in enough air to breath, but the water lapped at his mouth. He tried to signal with his eyes for them to pull him up a bit but they just looked at him and laughed.

So he lay there, feeling the little strength he had left fade from his muscles as the cold took hold instead, and he prepared to die, wondering why they said he’d killed anyone.

He hadn’t killed anyone, had he? He never had. He hadn’t done anything. But it was hard to think. It was hard to think even without the cold water getting inside his head.

He couldn’t remember what he’d done, why he’d been brought to this place.

But he was sure he hadn’t killed anyone. He was the victim. He was the one they’d been after, the ones hiding in the shadows all the time, the ones he’d tried to keep away with lights as bright as he could find. Here there were no lights, no bright lights at all. Here was all darkness and shadows and cold cold death stalking him.

But he hadn’t killed anyone.
Never actually done that. Had he?

Lara was after a new pair of shoes. She had the audition coming up – well it was kind of an audition, anyway – and she wanted to look good. Had to look good. This could be her big break. She didn’t want to do stupid plays, saying lines that half the time she couldn’t understand – why didn’t Shakespeare write in English for crying out loud?

Anyway, the movies were where she belonged. She was made for the big screen. Hell, she was made for DVD only, if necessary, she wasn’t that precious.

But she needed a new pair of shoes. Something that screamed
look at me.
Something that underlined how fabulous she would be on camera.

So far, she’d found nothing in her price range. Matt would be pissed with her for buying them even in her price range, but then Matt was getting a little annoying. Always studying now, always taking himself seriously. She frowned and picked up a pair of gold
slingbacks. What was up with Matt these days, anyway? He didn’t even want to have sex as much, as though he’d suddenly turned into an old fuddy-duddy. He’d been crazy for her, and not even long ago. Now he always had his nose stuck in a book, and she wasn’t stupid enough not to notice the way he looked at her sometimes, as though wondering what he’d ever seen in her.

Flinging back her hair, she tried on the
slingbacks. Matt had seen plenty in her, and had no right to change his mind. The shoes looked great on her. And they’d go perfectly with the little dress she was going to wear to the audition. That had been a major score – thirty percent off.

She carried the shoes up to the counter and smiled, pulling out the cash that was supposed to go toward some stupid weekend trip Matt wanted to go on. Up to Auckland for Writer’s Week. She liked the Auckland bit, big city and all, but the writers? No way did she want to sit through a lot of boring lectures. And she needed the shoes.

She got the shoes and left the store feeling very pleased with herself. The audition was on Saturday and practically everyone in her drama class was going. They’d been invited to. It was an Indie film, and they needed cheap extras. But Lara had a plan. She wasn’t going to be some background extra. She’d wow them into giving her a lead role.

Swinging the bag with the shoes in, she hummed a little tune and wondered if she should get some new earrings as well. Maybe even get her hair cut, though she’d had had it done just a few weeks back.
                           

‘
Lara!’

The voice was immediately recognisable. After all, they’d been friends since kindergarten. She’d always though they were practically brother and sister, but after the weirdness in the pub the other day, she was starting to think she should change that. She plastered a smile on her face and turned.

‘Toby!’ she cooed and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. ‘Don’t see you around for months, and now twice in one week.’

He gave her a strange look and she realised her mistake. ‘I mean, it’s just good to see you out and around, Toby.’ Her cheeks burned. ‘What are you up to today? You want to grab a coffee?’

She felt better when Toby snaked an arm around her waist and nodded. ‘Looking good, Lara.’ He paused. ‘Smell good too.’

A squeal of delight. ‘You like it? I bought it for Matt, but he hasn’t even noticed.’

The hand tightened on her waist. ‘That’s no good. He should have noticed it straight away. It’s an exquisite scent. And yes I want to have coffee with you. Or maybe something stronger?’

Lara
leaned out a little to look at him. ‘What about the not drinking?’

‘It’s a special occasion. I want to celebrate. One drink won’t hurt,’ Toby said. ‘What do you think? You can’t leave me to celebrate on my own?’

It only took a moment to decide. And Toby looked kind of sexy all skinny and tousled. A bit like Kurt Cobain, but of course he was dead now. Not that it made any difference. Her smile widened. ‘Of course I’ll help you celebrate – what sort of friend do you think I am?’ She leaned in closer against Toby. ‘But what’s the special occasion?’

Toby sniffed. ‘You’re going to think I’m stupid,’ he said.

‘No, I won’t. Go on, you can tell me.’

‘All right, if you promise you won’t laugh.’

She was laughing already. ‘Of course I won’t!’ But curiosity burned at her. She knew all the important dates in Toby’s life. Or she thought she had. What of such great importance had happened in the six months or so she’d been busy as hadn’t seen them? ‘Tell me,’ she said.

But he shook his head. ‘After I’ve had a couple of drinks. Dutch courage.’

An elbow in his side. ‘What do you need courage for around me?’ she asked. ‘We’ve known each other practically since we were wearing nappies. I remember your first day of school – you wet your pants!’ She giggled.

‘That’s a lie!’ He stopped walking and she looked at him, confused.

‘Jeez, where’s your sense of humour? We’ve been telling that story forever, Tully and me.’

But he was still standing
there, a weird look on his face. She guessed he was more than a bit crazy after all. Or mentally ill, or however you were supposed to say it.

‘Come on, Toby, I didn’t mean anything by it.’ She took his arm again. ‘Let’s go celebrate, like you said. I’m free for the rest of the afternoon.’

He blinked, and she felt him relax against her. ‘All right,’ he said. ‘Good.’

‘Where shall we go? The usual?’