Asylum

Copyright Kristen
Selleck © 2011

All rights reserved.

ISBN:
978-0615550176

ISBN-13:
0615550177

CHAPTER ONE

            The
Devil’s best trick is to convince you that he doesn’t exist!  Do you hear me
brothers and sisters? Do you hear-

           
Chloe snapped
the radio off.  If there was a devil, he wasn’t gaining any ground in Birch
Harbor.  There was only one station that came in without fuzz. Call letters
KPRY- the best brimstone and hellfire for your morning drive.  If she stayed,
her first purchase was going to be one of those satellite radios.

           
IF she
stayed…which really meant, IF they didn’t find her and take her back.

            It
was kind of funny.  She was brave enough to jump out a window and run from Woodhaven,
but too scared to walk through the doors of a college dormitory.

            It
was the dormitory’s fault.  Being so big, it should have soared, or some other
type of inspiring thing, but Kirkbride Hall didn’t soar, it loomed.

            “Loooooooom,”
Chloe whispered, in her best scary movie voice. Loom rhymed with gloom, and
that’s probably what made it seem like a dark word.

            Maybe
it was a matter of perspective.  Kirkbride Hall
was
massive.  Most
people wouldn‘t argue that.  It also looked ancient and solid.  At dead center
crouched a fortress of grey stone blocks. The wings of the building arched
backwards on either side.  It boasted turrets, four stories of tall windows
and…a bell tower?  Or maybe a look-out tower, for when the dormitory came under
siege from random packs of marauding Vikings.

            Fortifications
aside, most of its threat came from the fact that she was outside and everyone
else was inside.  She was late.  

            “Looooom,”
she repeated, making her voice low and gravely. 

            Outside
the car, a boy walked by, a backpack slung over one broad shoulder.  He glanced
at her just in time to see her lips move and make brief eye contact. He looked
away just as quickly.

            Chloe
moved her lips and bobbed her head, singing along with imaginary music, just in
case he looked again.

           
Keep
sitting here talking to yourself, you’re going to make lots of new
friends…crazy Chloe. Crazy, Crazy, Crazy Chloe, she‘s so nuts, she‘ll-

            “Shut-up!”
Chloe hissed.

            That
awful voice again. The one that showed up when everything was quiet.  The one
you weren‘t supposed to talk to.  At Woodhaven they told her everyone had that
kind of voice.  The only difference being that other people didn’t assign it an
identity separate from themselves.  Most people knew the voice came from
inside. 

“Time
to go,” she decided.

            Outside
there was music coming from open windows.  Students were leaning out to yell at
friends on the street, people constantly streaming in and out the doors--
roller-skating, lounging, talking, laughing.  Just like the movies.  Chloe had
the admissions packet in her bag, but she didn’t need it.  She had most of it
memorized.  She was going to room 237 to meet her new roommate, whose name was:
Samantha J. Klingeman. Her first class was--

            “RAAAR! 
I’m a bear!”

            A
young man jumped out of the back of the pick-up truck and landed on the
pavement in front of her.  In the truck bed, a dozen other boys laughed and
pounded the sides.

            Chloe
back-stepped and looked the bear-boy up and down.  He was wearing a snarling
bear mask, his boxers, and the word “PLEDGE” scribbled across his bare chest in
lipstick.

            “You’re
a JACKASS!” someone in the back of the truck taunted him.  The boys laughed and
hooted.  Another frat clone, this one wearing authority all over his scowling
face, leaned out of the cab and glared back at the others.

            “Keep
laughing Wilcox, you’re next!” he threatened.

            “Freshman?”
the boy in the bear mask asked.  At least that’s what it sounded like, his
voice was muffled.

            Chloe
nodded warily. 

            Should
she walk away quickly?  What if he chased her?  Why did they have to bother
her?  She should have stayed in the car.

            The
bear-boy handed her a flyer.  A bunch of Greek symbols followed by the bold
words:
ATTENTION ALL BIRCH HARBOR BEARS: GET YOUR DRINK ON!!! FRESHMEN MIXER
TONIGHT!
 And then the address of what was, undoubtedly, a frat house.

            The
bear-boy said something else, but this time Chloe couldn’t understand.  She
shrugged at him.

            “Bring
the flyer with you.  It has the initials of who gave it to you in the upper
corner.  Whichever one of the pledges gets the most freshmen girls to show up
wins,” the boy in the cab clarified.

            “Wins…what?”
Chloe asked.

            The
boys in the truck all laughed again.  Maybe it was another matter of
perspective, but it didn’t seem like a friendly laugh.

            “A
nice set of leather-bound encyclopedias,” one of the boys called over the rest.

            “I
don’t know.  I just- I don’t think I can...I...see…no thanks,” Chloe stuttered,
handing the paper back to him.

            The
bear-boy gave an aggravated groan, threw his arms out in supplication, and
snatched the paper from her hand.

            He
mumbled something under the mask.  She wasn’t sure but it might have been
‘freak’.

            “HEY!”
he yelled loud enough to make her wince, “HEY!  I’m a Bear, RAARR!”

            The
half-naked bear took off, chasing after another girl leaving the dormitory. 
The truck of frat boys trailed behind him.

           
New
town, different names, same boys… you’re lucky they didn’t push you, or kick
your book-bag across the parking lot.  You can’t change who you are.

            Chloe
swallowed hard and glanced around.  She could go back.  She should turn around
and go back.  She could keep driving.  Go straight on until she ran out of gas
and walk until she came to a town with a restaurant.  She could get a job as a
waitress.  She could be a fugitive waitress and the regulars that came in for
coffee would never know.

            Which
was all very silly. There was nowhere to else to go.

            “Moving
in?” a deep voice asked.

            Chloe
said a quick prayer that whoever he was, he wasn’t wearing underwear and a bear
mask before turning around.

            It
was the boy that had seen her talking to herself. Boy?  Not a boy.  He had to
be over twenty, just had to be. He might not even be real.  He didn’t look
real.  He looked like a guy from a dream that she’d never want to wake up from,
because in real life no one like him would ever talk to her.

            He
was watching her with the most amazing hazel eyes.  Longish, almost-black hair
seemed ready to blow Adonis-like around a strongly defined jaw--that is, if any
breeze just happened to come along.  She hoped one would.

            “Uhhh…I…yes?”
she asked.

            “Yes,
you’re moving in?” he smiled. Chloe shivered.

            “Uh-huh.”

            “I’m
Seth.”

            “Hi.”

            He
lifted an eyebrow at her.  Chloe felt the urge to swing her arms.

            “And
now you say your name,” he hinted.

            “Chloe?”

            “Are
you sure?”

            “About
what?”

            He
laughed and gave her a strange look.

            “Can
I help you carry something in?” he offered.

            “Uhhh,
well, I don’t really have that much. It’s just, I…” Chloe trailed off. 

            “How
about just having someone to walk you in?  It’s easier that way.” he gave her a
half-smile.

            “Okay.”

            He
walked next to her--across the parking lot, past the students on the grass, and
through the doors of a building that didn’t seem to loom quite as much.

            In
the lobby, 1950’s sensibility had lost its siege on turn-of-the-century taste.
Its few victories were present in the ugly, speckled, linoleum floor tiles, and
a few rust-orange couches that had faded to brown sagginess where thousands of
bodies had reclined over the years.  The stairway didn’t deign to notice the
tile or the couches.  It lowered two thick mahogany rails from the above floor,
and dropped identical and elaborately carved urns at its end as if it were
meeting marble.  There was no visible elevator.

            “What
floor are you on?” he asked.

            “I’m
in 237.”

            “Second
floor.  Good floor,” he grinned.

             They
went up the stairs together and she followed when he stopped on the first
landing and turned left.

            The
hallway was surprisingly wide and high-ceilinged, lined with tall doors, most
of them open so students could come and go from each other’s rooms. 

            The
door to 237, like the others, was open.  Chloe stopped before she came to it. 
She would rather have had to knock first.

            “I’ll
go first.  If you hear any screaming…run,” Seth stage whispered.  He winked at
her as he walked into room 237.

            There
were no screams.

            The
room was empty, but she followed him in to make sure.  Her new room was a
perfect square.  On the left side, a twin bed was pushed against the wall.  A
green and black plaid comforter covered it, hanging unevenly over the side. The
only occupant of the room, a filthy-looking, misshapen, old teddy bear, lounged
against an array of pink throw pillows (Maybe Samantha J. Klingeman was
colorblind?) A standard issue dresser bordered the same wall, littered with
piles of make-up and hair accessories.  Clothes hung in one half of an open
closet.  The right side of the room was completely barren-- no bed, no
dresser-- just a blank, empty space.