Chapter 8
Rated "M"
VIII - Psychiatric Hospital
However Roxanne got me to go with her was beyond me. One moment I was ready to destroy myself for the sake of the people around me, the next minute all I could feel was my heart beating at an uneven pace as I followed Roxanne into an "abandoned building" that supposedly housed the guy who sent me the letter. Again. However Roxanne got me to leave the precinct with her and go to an old psychiatric hospital was beyond me.The even crazier part was that neither Roxanne nor I looked like police anymore. Or an officer and an agent, if you wanted to be precise. I wasn't quite sure why Roxanne had forced me to change from my work suit, but whatever her reason's were, she was following it to.
So there we were, standing in front of two large wooden doors, looking like normal citizens. Well, with the exception of the fact that Roxanne had just knocked on the door to an "abandoned" psych ward in upstate Albany.
She looked so different, yet so... the same. Her hair was tied up neatly, the ends of each strand loosely curled - an unnatural state with her hair being naturally wavy - wearing blue jeans, low-heeled ankle boots, and a coat that I had recently learned was named after a "pea." Pea-coat. No idea in hell who came up with that name. Though I was sure of one thing. I'd never understand the complication of women's fashion. Ever.
One of the large, wooden doors opened to reveal a middle-aged woman in light blue scrubs. Her hair was braided to one side, her makeup was slightly smeared, and her olive-toned skin wrinkled even more than it already was as she smiled brightly and embraced Roxanne in a tight, unwanted hug.
"I'm so sorry!" She shouted, and I could see Roxanne physically cringe. "I haven't seen a normal human being in weeks! I should be glad I'm not sane!" Sane? That was what she was calling it? "You must be Roxanne Winston. It's a pleasure meeting you." She shook hands with Roxanne and then turned to me. "And you are... hold on, give me a second. I'm trying to remember... Allan? Liam? Samuel? Jackson? Jordan? James? Adam? Angel? Nick? Adrian? Tony?"
"It's Alexander. Alexander Sempers."
"Hmm..." She spoke as she pulled us inside and closed the door, locking it behind her. "Isn't Alexander a name of a city? And a girl's name?" I froze in place.
"I believe you are thinking of Alexandria, Marian." Roxanne spoke up.
"Ah... right." She - or Marian - said, nodding.
"Where is he?"
"Fifth cell on the right. All bars so we don't need to let him out."
"Good. I can only imagine what will happen when he hears about a few things..."
Marian unlocked the heavy metal door and looked back at Roxanne and I before opening it. "Watch out for Mary Jane. She has a fetish for human blood. And once you're done, knock five times swiftly. Only five. No more, no less, or I can't let you out."
Can't let us out? God, security! Even when no one knew of it, it was there... And like usual, I just had to go with it. It was my job, after all. Both mine and Roxanne's.
Roxanne nodded and I followed her into the room of locked cells.
Blood. Hands. Gore. Temperature. All elements of a good movie, which in most of those movies, the people died. The people being Roxanne and I.
Roxanne and I stopped when we reached the fifth cell. Just like the woman - Marian - said, it was all bars. All bars being what held the middle-aged man inside. The middle-aged man who was playing cards, or what I thought to be solitaire.
"Jeff." Roxanne spoke, her face not displaying any emotion. The man inside, Jeff, didn't look at either of us, instead he continued playing cards.
"Roxy." Jeff spoke. Roxy? I thought only Mr. Allred called her that. "Come to break me out of this lunatic center?"
"You and I both know that I can't."
"Why? Because Mariam won't dub me legally sane, or is it because of the loyalty you share with your country?" Roxanne didn't answer the question, which only resulted in Jeff laughing. "Aw, Roxy. Lighten up a bit. We all know that the government won't let me out until my old heart stops beating. Nothin's gonna change that. So, tell me, what can I do ya' for. I'd offer you a drink, but if there was a bottle of liquor here Mariam sure as hell would've drunken it."
"You wrote this note. Don't lie to me." Roxanne held up the paper with my brother's name on it and for the first time Jeff looked at her.
"Not much of a question, now is it?"
"Did you write it or not?"
"Yeah. I believe it was a week ago, but I could've been wrong. How'd you get it anyway?"
"Do you know who you sent it to?"
"Jacob. Who else?" He sent it... to my brother? Then how the hell did it get to me?
"Well, your letter was a little too late. But I don't expect you to know that." Roxanne handed the paper to me and I folded it neatly before sliding it into my coat pocket.
"What do you mean... 'a little too late?'" Roxanne didn't say anything for a moment.
"Jacob's dead. He has been for a few years now." I found myself saying. Roxanne looked at me, almost surprised that I said anything. I wasn't going to question her, but I was curious as to what she thought I was planning on doing.
"Jacob... Konstantinov? He's dead?" I nodded and Jeff gazed off.
"Gloves..."
"What?"
"Gloves... you're wearing gloves..." I looked at Roxanne, who was glaring at Jeff slightly as he breathed the word. "Did Emery get tired of you, or was it just a precaution...?"
"Neither. But it's none of your damn business either."
"I've been locked up in here for seven whole years. Don't you think I deserve a little bit of knowledge as to why I don't see a rock?"
A rock? Gloves? Was Jeff talking about a ring? And who was this Emery?
"I love to tell you to ask him, but he's quite dead, and has been for some time."
"You aren't good a lying, Roxanne."
"Why would I ever lie about that?"
Jeff turned his head to stare at the cards on the cement floor. Despite him being in shock, Roxanne continued with what most people would've claimed to be an uncivilized interrogation.
"I suppose you got the supplies from Mariam. Do you know where she got them?"
"Why would that be important. Aren't you just here to figure out where the letter came from?"
"The letter wasn't sent to Jacob, Jefferson. It was sent to his brother. You tell me that it's a coincidence."
Jefferson sighed before he spoke, "That's what she meant, didn't she. By telling me that it might take a while to get there... Mariam sent the letter. She always does, and always will."
"So it was all by mistake?"
"Every last piece. Mariam got a few new people this last month. They were all decorated with weapons and high-tech gear. The government, paranoid as always, traded them in for what Mariam asked for. She was sent typewriters and ink and paper and food and even a TV, believe it or not. Sometimes she even invites me to watch, since I am the more sane of the group."
There was a moment of silence between us all and all I could think about what how Jefferson knew my brother.
"I haven't asked yet, but who's he? He obviously isn't just some coworker you were forced to bring around with you. You brought him here. So... who is he?"
"Ask him yourself. You both speak English."
"Jacob's brother." I answered when he looked at me. "And her coworker."
"Your brother was a good man. Saved my ass a few times during battle, and I was his captain. I apologize for your loss."
I couldn't help but look down at the ground. For years I had busied myself to forget of all the deaths that had occurred around me. Three months ago, I had failed to do exactly that. I was forced to take a leave of absence, go to a therapist, deny all work and anything to do with it, and now... I had to remember it again?
"Get better, Jefferson. If not for the people you love and care for, then at least for yourself. Who knows, maybe I can pull a string or two so you don't have to die here."
"Roxanne, my problems are all mental. There's no way you could fix them."
"That exactly the problem. They're all mental."
"So..." I spoke up once we left the building and Mariam closed the door. "What's next?"
"For this case? Nothing. It's over."
"How do we explain that to the captain?"
"You get to tell him that Jefferson Irving helped you find that the note was an accident when an old friend wanted to contact your brother. Simple."
"Great. What do I do next? Tell him to release Jeff from the mental institution?"
"Why would you do that?" Roxanne asked, stopping when we reached her car and turning around to face me. She had a confused look on her face.
"Do you not remember what you said to him? That you might pulls a few strings so he won't die in that old building?"
"Jefferson has twenty plus years to live. more if you think about the special treatment he gets from Mariam."
"Special treatment?" It wasn't her words that made me ask, but more her tone. The awkward, almost hesitant words.
"They may or may not participate in... sexual intercourse."
"What?" I was more shocked of that fact than Roxanne talking about it. "Why the hell did I ask you?" I muttered.
"You tell me," She said, walking around the car and getting in the drivers seat. I leaned my head back against the leather seat when I got in. "You're the one who asked."
"I didn't want you to actually tell me that. God... I'm going to have nightmares."
"It's not illegal, Sempers. Calm the fuck down, already." I turned to her with a smirk plastered on my face. "What?"
"Wow, Roxy. Don't tell me you just picked up language."
Roxanne rolled her eyes and spoke her two words before stepping on the gas.
"Shut up."
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