Shades of Grey

MURIAS ASYLUM— APRIL 1844

I spent four hours in solitary before an orderly I had never seen before opened the door and took me to the dining hall for dinner. I listlessly made my way through the line and sat at a single table in the corner of the room, quiescent under the burden of my heavy thoughts.

“Grey?” Isabella said gently as she approached, sitting across from me. “Grey, what happened? You seem sullen.”

Sullen…sullen…why the devil wouldn’t I be sullen? I’d just realised exactly what I was.

“She killed those people…to get me to break…” I said quietly.

Isabella was silent for a ruminative minute.

“Why?”

“She murdered innocent people because that is what I do…murder the innocent…”

I stared at my food, thinking of the Tournesian belief that Hunters were glorified murderers…of Rodag’s telling me that he had the right to live, as I did…

Isabella read the doubt in my face.

“No, Grey listen to me: this is what Dr. Kingsmith wants you to think! She wants you to doubt yourself: the more conflicted the mind is, the easier it is to break! If you continue these thoughts, then your next treatment will be your breaking point! You have to stay resolute! You are doing the right thing!”

“How do you know?” I asked.

“Because you are strong and brave and so determined to protect those you love! That kind of force is something that Kingsmith cannot fight! It has to be you and unless you accept in your heart that you are doing the right thing, you cannot do as you were meant to do! Grey, you are meant to save the world!”

Her words were comforting and horrifically daunting at the same time. I thought of Saul’s passionate warning that I had to destroy the one who carried the fate of them all, wondering if Isabella knew more than she was saying…

“And,” she continued. “If you break now, it will give Kingsmith an opportunity to control you!”

“How could Dr. Kingsmith control me? She can’t control any of her other p…”

“The tattoos!”

My eyes widened.

“The tattoos? They are some sort of mind control devices then?” I asked, recalling Warden Allen’s appearance after the lumination of Kingsmith’s tattoo.

“Yes! They feed it in small doses to the citizens through the controlled food supply, making them subservient and loyal. Here they increase the dose in the form of the tattoos, producing a stronger hold over the mind, perfect for those who defy the Board’s ruling! Grey, it all fits together now!”

“Yes it does…” I muttered, sorting all of it out in my mind. “Marius…”

“I’ve seen five other patients in a similar state just over the past two days,” Isabella replied with a sense of apprehensive urgency.

I sighed and rubbed my eyes.

“So she has moved on to controlling her patients now…” I said, forgetting my self-doubt.

“Yes, so we need to act fast. Have you any ideas at all?”

I leaned back against my chair.

“I need to see the Board again before I can be certain...”

Isabella gasped.

“But nobody ever has contact the Board outside of when a patient is first admitted! Dr. Kingsmith doesn’t even see them on a regular basis! None of the staff does!”

“Then how do they complete their jobs?” I wondered.

“Through speakers and such, maybe the tattoos as well, I’m not sure…”

I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair. This task seemed continually more impossible.

“How does one attain a second audience with the Board?” I asked pointedly after a minute.

“One would have to create such a disturbance that has never been seen within the walls of the Asylum…” Isabella replied slowly, understanding my plan. “And no disturbance has ever been seen in the walls of the Asylum.”

I grinned.

“Then it’s time to implement our grand plan and create one.”

The next afternoon at lunch, we began to put my master plan into action.

Looking across the crowded cafeteria, I spotted Isabella and nodded. She gave me a confirming nod in response and I knew it was time.

I turned to the man who sat next to me, happily eating his breakfast. I brought my spoon quickly into his slop and promptly took a bite. He turned to me.

“Why did you do that?” he asked.

“Because I wanted it,” I replied.

“But it was mine. It was my ration.”

“And I wanted it, so I took it.”

“IT WAS MINE!”

The cafeteria fell silent as the man suddenly shouted, rage pulsating through him.

“Now it is mine!” I countered.

“NO!”

Suddenly, the man grabbed my throat and threw me onto the table, digging his fingers into my mouth as he tried to unearth the food I had just eaten.

“GIVE IT BACK!” he shouted, reaching into my throat.

I kicked him in the stomach and flipped him over me, allowing me time to propel myself upwards and land solidly on the table above him.

“OY!” called several orderlies as they began running over to restrain us. “Stop!”

I then grabbed the closest trays of food and threw them at each orderly, hitting them all square in the face and knocking them to the ground.

There was silence for a glorious moment before Isabella stood and began to laugh — loudly and insanely. Ophelia and Kam soon followed and before long, the entire cafeteria rejoiced in uproariously mad guffaws.

“Food fight!” called Alexa from the back, just as I had told her to do.

Her words had the exact effect I had hoped they would have. Within seconds, every prisoner grabbed the first bit of food they could get their hand on and threw it, igniting a massive battle between patient and orderly. I took a brief moment to marvel at what I had orchestrated before I began to manoeuvre through the crowd towards a fighting Isabella, who was equally ecstatic about our plan’s success.

“It’s working!” Isabella whispered once I had fought my way to her side.

“I know!” I cried optimistically, throwing several handfuls of oatmeal at one of the orderlies. “Are the explosives in place?”

“Yes, they are set to go off in three hours.”

“Excellent. The Asylum will die tonight!”

Then, something happened I did not expect. A siren went off and a rancid green smoke saturated the room, soon filling the lungs of every patient and steadily silencing the raucous noise of the hall as it stilled their fighting muscles.

Within minutes, all of us were unconscious.

I awoke tied to a wooden chair in the middle of the same room in which I had received Tess’ cryptic note, although this time a very bright light flooded my vision. Looking to the shadows, I saw the form of Dr. Kingsmith standing with five orderlies just behind the only light source and just out of my line of sight. She gave a curt sigh of irritation.

“You have become quite the annoyance, Miss Echo.”

“You haven’t exactly been my favourite person in the world, either, doctor,” I snapped in a similar tone. I could feel her icy glare.

“I’m afraid that I’ve now got to take extreme measures.”

She walked over to a dark corner of the room and I heard a decisive thud as she pulled what sounded like a large lever. I screamed as electric fire ripped into my skin and began stampeding through my body, causing every muscle to clench and sending me into a fit of uncontrollably painful convulsions. After what she thought was a significant amount of time, she released the lever and the pain stopped.

“What you’ve just experienced is called electroconvulsive therapy. It is a radical manoeuvre that we only employ with the sickest of our patients and after your recurringly loud night terrors and your foolish little stunt today, the Board has ordered that it be done to you.”

She leaned down and cupped my face maternally. I flinched in revulsion, still gasping in pain.

“I promise you, we will make you better again,” she said with a sickly maternal smile worthy of one of Raphael’s Madonnas.

I spat on her condescending, expressionless face.

She calmly removed my saliva and turned to the attending orderlies.

“Prepare her.”

The orderlies began to move around a tray of tools nearby and my apprehension grew. This was not what was supposed to happen. My plan did not account for any extra delays.

“Wait! What are you preparing me for? Aren’t I supposed to speak with the Board?!” I cried frantically.

Dr. Kingsmith laughed.

“You foolish girl, you’ll speak with them. Just wait…”

The orderlies then began to shuffle around tables behind the light.

“What are you doing? What is that?” I asked, in panic.

“Quiet,” replied one of the orderlies as he proceeded to force a cloth roughly into my mouth and I saw the ominous sheen of a metal needle and then heard the hellish vibration begin as its motor was activated: the needle used to apply the black flame tattoos. I began to struggle, pulling desperately at the metal restraints as the vibrating instrument drew closer to my left wrist, when there was a sudden explosion from somewhere in the depths of the Asylum. I sighed with relief inwardly.

“What was that?” asked an orderly.

“Nothing,” snapped Kingsmith, though there was clear apprehension in her voice. “Just do it.”

The man then turned to me but before the needle could touch my skin, I gave the loudest scream I could muster through the cloth, forcing the orderlies and even the doctor to cover their ears which gave me ample time to pull at my restraints, slowly loosening them…

“What’s going on?!” called an orderly.

“How is she doing that?!” cried another. “I can feel my bones rattle!”

“STOP HER!” ordered Kingsmith.

Before they could, I felt the metal cuff on my right wrist break and I brought it through the air and into the septum of the man on my left, breaking it on contact. Just as the other orderly reached for me, I managed to break the restraint on my left wrist and swing my fist into the side of his head, knocking him to the ground. With both wrists free, I gripped the arms of the chair and gave one solid yank on my ankle chains, breaking them easily and jumping to a standing position on the chair.

Three other orderlies came at me while the two on the ground recovered, but with my newly freed limbs, I was a more than worthy adversary. I attacked with grace and agility that I had not exercised since arriving in Murias. My muscles rejoiced at the stimulation after a month of malnutrition and sedentation.

Kingsmith stood silently in the corner as I destroyed her orderlies, watching with a quiet studiousness. When I had knocked out the last orderly, I turned to her, rage and adrenaline coursing through me.

“Why do you not run?” I asked sharply, wiping my sweat-laden brow.

“Because I do not fear you,” she replied strongly. “I do not fear any of my patients.”

“You should,” I taunted.

I then leapt across the room and brought my fist strongly into her jaw. I revelled in the great crack that echoed in the stone room as it broke on contact.

She fell to the floor, wiped blood from her mouth and then retaliated with a strong punch to my gut. I wheezed as the breath was knocked out of me, but I recovered and brought my foot around to Kingsmith’s nose, enjoying the great snap of breaking cartilage that sounded. She brought her foot up towards my stomach again, but I caught it before she made contact and flipped her over my head, slamming her into the metal chair. She fell to the floor and gave three trite coughs as she recovered her breath.

“How do you feel now?” I asked. I smoothly slid a truncheon from one of the unconscious orderly’s belts and brought it down across her face. She turned to me with a reverent grin and I saw the flame tattoo light up on her wrist.

“Peaceful…”

Kingsmith did not move or speak. The only audible sounds in the room were the distant explosions of the bombs the sane patients had been furiously making for the last few days and the hideous screams of the mad patients as they ran out of the gaping holes in the walls of the burning Asylum, trying witlessly to fight their way to freedom. It was eerie to hear while staring at a motionless Dr. Kingsmith.

When I saw that she was still breathing, I dropped the truncheon and knelt next to her, eager to unearth some answers before she lost consciousness.

“Where do I find the Board?”

“You’ve already seen the Board…” she whispered.

“But where do I find them? Where can I see them face to face?” I said quickly.

I started suddenly as the door swung open loudly and a long stream of huge black fire encircled the room, dancing wickedly. I lowered my eyes as the heat from the thick black flames grew tenfold, slowly overtaking the room.

“She told you, you already have.”

My heart stopped at the sudden voice. I looked up to see Isabella in the doorway with a large pistol, cocked and pointed unwaveringly at me. I gasped as I noticed the luminescent black flames on her wrist, flickering similarly to the flaming cage that surrounded the room. I then understood.

“It was you?” I cried, standing in shock. “YOU are the Board?!”

She gave me a jarringly avaricious smile.

“Yes. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you, Grey, but I had to test your loyalty. I had to see how trustworthy you were.”

My hands clenched in enraged horror. I still could not believe the threat had been in front of me and I wasted time and energy pursuing a puppet. I hung my head in disgrace as I thought of the captive Forma who seemed to be constantly in grave danger on my account...

“Then who is Dr. Kingsmith?” I asked, prodding the motionless doctor’s face with my foot.

“Dr. Kingsmith is just a pawn, as you said before: a stupid gullible pawn. I couldn’t run a mental facility without a head doctor and I needed someone to ferry messages to and from ‘the Board.’ Who would believe that a young girl is qualified to be a head psychiatrist at an insane asylum?”

I clenched my muscles as another explosive detonated and more screams from the patients echoed in the massive halls.

“Where are Kam and Ophelia?” I inquired, fearing the answer. “And the Morrigan sisters?”

Isabella’s lips curled into a malevolent smile and the black flames doubled in size. My fears were confirmed with her next statement.

“They were deemed ‘incurable.’”

Isabella’s voice had suddenly slid from her normally light and friendly tone to a sinister, malicious register.

“Why are you speaking like that?” I asked carefully.

“I think you know exactly why I’m speaking like this,” she said, smiling evilly. “Tell me, how is the dear Verrilius these days?”

I sat back on my knees in shock.

“How do you know Verrilius?”

My voice was quaking with horror. How could I have not seen it?

“I was once in your position,” she said, revelling in my shock. “I was a lonely Creature Hunter just trying to fight my way through life when I came across a young wizard upon my eighth year of duty: Verrilius. He was quite handsome then, strong and powerful: qualities that I admired in a man. My Maisling, Dara, didn’t like the fact that I was breaking Hunter Code and letting myself become distracted from what Verrilius really was, a mad sorcerer. I ignored her and one day I had a rather violent argument with him. She thought Verrilius was attacking me so she attacked him, leaving him scarred. Out of reflex, Verrilius put her into a dark sleep. I begged him to reverse it. He said I could help her if I travelled to a city to eliminate a growing problem.”

My heart dropped. She noticed my panic and continued with even greater enthusiasm, circling the room while keeping the pistol aimed at me. My fists clenched in rage.

“It was you that caused Verrilius to enact the law…” I exhaled in realisation. “You were the mad Hunter that they spoke of…the murderer?!”

Isabella nodded, a dark look of betrayal staining her beautiful face.

“I never meant for those girls to die, but they were in my way. He was understandably upset, of course, but he told me penance for my actions and freedom for my Maisling awaited me if I agreed to his task. I did and he sent me here just as he sent you: alone and not knowing what exactly the problem was that I had been charged with eliminating. So, for ten days I wandered, destroying everything that I saw as dangerous: robbers, thieves and all those foul rakes that prey on innocent women in the night. After I had done so however and I still remained here, I began to see the true threat of Murias: chaos. The people had no strong leader to govern them. I saw that I needed to create a single entity that would educe fear and obedience from the people. I had to bring them together or this city would fall apart. So, I began to perpetuate knowledge of the Board and I instituted my Formorii to act as enforcers. People are incredibly malleable, they will believe anything told to them by an authority figure; one must merely find the right authority figure. I have done this, so my only task left is to make sure that Murias is completely free of all elements of the former anarchy that once reigned supreme. Once I have accomplished this, I may return and free Dara.”

I empathised with her on one level: the willingness to go to extreme lengths for your Fairy; but I could not let her carry out her plan, especially if it resulted in the deaths of innocent people.

“I can’t allow you to do it,” I said, raising my truncheon towards her. “I’m sorry.”

She sighed remorsefully and the black flames flickered in response.

“I am sorry too, because now I shall have to kill you as well.”