Jo-Anne Russell Ink
Category:
Horror
Type: Fiction
ISBN-13: 9780987744203
The Nightmare Project is the story of one woman`s will to survive against surmountable odds.
Blurb for The Nightmare Projec
After killing her husband and being committed to an asylum, Julia Montgomery finds her life spiralling out of control. Her illness gets her into the Nightmare Project, where doctors claim the invasive treatments will cure her; but can she trust them?
When strange killings start to take place – and she is the accused – she decides to take her life back into control. A daring escape with the help of another patient leads her on a journey of discovering the truth, but is it too late?
Excerpt
Chapter 1
Julia woke with her heart pounding and sweat dripping from her brow. She had the nightmare again, this time as vivid as the last. She looked around and saw the door still shut and probably locked. The goons tied her to the bed and even though she couldn’t untie herself, Marge would still have locked the door.
She struggled a little until she had the small plastic buzzer in her hand. She pushed the button and a few moments later the light under the door flickered with movement. The all too familiar sequence of three beeps followed by a buzz and a flood of light, as the door swung opened.
In walked Marge, a stone-faced middle-aged woman, who not only followed the rules by the book, but Julia assumed slept with it tucked firmly under her pillow. She flipped the wall switch and the room filled with painful brilliance. Before she could see, Marge had the cuffs off and Julia was sitting up rubbing the leftover sleep from her eyes.
"Alright then, meds before freedom," said Marge handing Julia the cocktail of three different pills. Julia took them all at once. Marge, though still evil eyed, motioned for the orderly to hook the door in its opened position.
Julia stood beside the bed and stretched. She had awakened this way for the past two years and could not remember the last time she had actually slept with any degree of comfort. Her wrists bore the years of wear and tear with permanent reddened circles. She slept only for a few hours at a time followed by long awake periods. Her life was an undesirable circle of meds, rules and nightmares. Just once, she wanted things to be normal.
Julia walked out to the T.V. room and waited for the breakfast bell to ring. She had twenty good minutes to watch the news before Carl would storm in and announce he was the Emperor, then demand everyone present to bow to him – which no-one would. Today the T.V. room was half-empty. Janice cuddled her doll and sat beside Julia.
"They found Carl all dead and bloody," Janice announced.
"What?" Julia looked sternly at her.
"He was in pieces in the hall shower room. Someone got mad at him."
"Who got mad at him?"
Janice rocked her doll and stroked its face lovingly. "I dunno, but someone did."
Julia walked to the nurse’s station and waited for Marge to get off the phone.
"What do you want?" Marge asked.
"What happened to Carl?"
"Does it matter? He’s dead."
"I heard, I mean how did he die?"
"He killed himself," said Marge."
"But Janice said…"
"Who cares what Janice said, he killed himself okay?"
Julia felt a deep heat rise from the pit of her stomach and settle on the surface of her face. She was sure Marge would call her goons any second to come and sedate her, but if Marge felt threatened by her, she did not show it. Instead of grabbing Marge and shaking her until her head finally shook clean off, all the while screaming she knew something strange was going on, she opted to turn around and go back to her room. Maybe she would overhear the goons talking.
While walking to her room she noticed Janice walking with her doll to the group therapy room. Dr. Jamison was accompanying her. The doctor gave a nod in Julia’s direction before turning the corridor.
Julia entered her room and looked around. It was plain with only a single bed and a chair, which was very uncomfortable to sit on for any length of time. A single window overlooking the courtyard gave her some escape from her imprisonment but not much. She had spent many hours just staring out that window wondering what would have happened if she hadn’t killed him. She looked at the only picture she had hanging on the pale green walls of her room. Two small children a boy aged ten and a girl aged seven stood smiling in their Sunday best beside a man in his mid-thirties. The man was Cole Montgomery. He stared back at her smiling too as if mocking her. His good looks and charmed smile went far in their college years, but his drinking soon ruined even those attributes.
She looked to the courtyard again and watched as two goons walked from the main back doors and across the courtyard carrying two large black garbage bags. The weight of the bags stretched the plastic to a thin grey.
Instead of turning to the right of the parking lot where the dumpsters sat neatly flush in their own little parking spots, the two men turned left returning only moments later. They followed the same path back through the courtyard and into the main rear doors. She leaned closer to the glass waiting to see if they would come out again.
"Breakfast!"
The shrill voice of the orderly startled her.
"Benjamin Pratt, you scared the hell out of me!" Julia screamed.
"And the breakfast bell didn’t?"
She looked at him with an awkward frown.
"It rang?" She asked.
"You ok today Jules? You seem out if it again."
"Yes, just still groggy from the meds. Do you know what the goons were doing out back today?"
"Warren and John? Putting out trash I think, why?"
"Because," she said looking back out the window, "they didn’t go to the bins they went the other way."
"That’s strange," said Ben as he too looked out the window.
"Yeah, I thought so. And Marge is acting a bit weird today too."
"Well, she did get the call on Carl," he said standing back up again.
Julia turned to him." How did Carl die?" she asked.
"Suicide I heard. His family will be coming tomorrow to get his things. Better get a move on or you’ll miss breakfast."
Julia smiled weakly. Food sounded like a good idea, but her thoughts went back to those black-stretching bags. What was in them?
The day stretched on, as had all the rest before with her in a state of constant fatigue. The rest of the patients acted as usual with the exception of Janice who was absent. Julia ate, watched T.V. and went for group. Dr. Jamison had not mention Carl and neither did anyone else. They all sat in a circle and spoke of their traumatic events and when it came to Julia’s turn, she sat silent for a moment.
"Pass," she said.
"Julia, you know passing only means venting in a non-healthy way. Why don’t you help yourself out and take your turn."
Dr. Jamison scribbled on his chart without looking up. Julia clenched her fists and sat straight staring at him.
He looked over his black-rimmed glasses, casually blowing a few stray hairs to the side of his face.
"Well Julia?"
"Everyone here knows my story, and telling it again won’t make me feel any better than the last time I told it." She stared through the tiny slits her eyelids made as she squinted in a distasteful frown.
He stared back at her for a moment and then looking back at his chart, a quiet question escaped his lips.
"How are your children doing these days?"
He was trying to push her buttons. After two years of playing this game, it seemed pointless for him to keep trying, but she resisted the volatile words from spilling forth, and instead answered with a simple tone.
"Fine," She said.
The rest of the group sat quiet as if waiting for the unspoken game to end, but the banter continued.
"And how are your children?" she said sweetly.
"We are not here to talk about my family, and you know very well I have no children," he said. "How about this, today I would like everyone to write down a goal you would like to accomplish that involves your family. It can be a single member, or the whole family. Have it ready for tomorrow’s session."
Moans filled the room and a few patients looked at Julia with scowls on their faces. This particular look came extra angrily from Veronica Santos. Her long blond hair shadowed by a dark brown umbrella of roots hung over her face with her eyes peeping out.
"Great job shit head!" she said as she walked past Julia. Veronica pushed past a few of the other patients and stormed off in the direction of her room.
The therapy room emptied leaving only Dr. Jamison and Julia. She stood and started walking to the door when his voice rang out.
"Julia, wait."
She stopped and turned to face him.
He looked thoughtful for a moment then looked kindly at her.
"I’m sorry if I upset you today, I just want to help you."
"Can you get me out of here and back with my kids?"
"You know I can’t," he started, but her voice cut him off.
"Then how the hell can you help me? I’ve been in this stink hole for two years! I only see my kids once a month for three hours. How am I supposed to be there for them?"
Tears streamed from her eyes, but she kept her voice steady.
"No one can help me now doctor, not you or anyone else, so you can stop trying."
Julia didn’t wait for a response. She walked out and headed for her room. Once inside she shut the door and let the tears flow. She looked up at the picture of her dead husband and two children. How they had grown in the last two years. She thought back to her last visit with them, three weeks ago. Her daughter Emma didn’t run to her with opened arms, or even walk in smiling, happy to see her mother – no – instead she was guided in by the social worker who had to practically push her. Her daughter was terrified, and even though she softened by the end of the visit, she treated Julia like a stranger. And really, should she expect anything less? After all, she had killed their father.
Kyle had been better but he was angry and she feared he would keep growing up that way if she didn’t somehow find a way back to them.
Julia wiped away her tears and sat on her bed. An image of Carl passed through her thoughts. He was forty-two but looked younger, medium and had wild brown hair that always stuck out of his toque. He never took that off, even in the blazing heat of summer. Carl had been a big pain in her butt since she arrived at Willow Creek, but he had never bothered anyone enough to deserve death.
She lay down on her bed and felt the stiff sheets beneath her. What she wouldn’t give for her own bed at home. She dozed for a while ignoring the meal bell and continued to drift in and out as her meds did their work.
"Phone call," said Marge as she stormed into the room.
"From who?" asked Julia, without so much as a glance in Marge’s direction.
"I don’t know something about your kid."
Without another word, Julia sprang from the bed and raced down the hall to the nurse’s station. Ben had the phone and was looking very serious as she approached. She reached out and grabbed it greedily.
"Hello? This is Julia Montgomery, who is this?"
"This is Sara Baker from Child Assist Services."
"Yes, of course, I remember you from the children’s last visit, is everything alright?"
"The children are both fine, but there is an urgent matter we need to discuss. Your daughter Emily has become more and more distressed."
"I understand," said Julia," I noticed at our last visit she was tense, but she came around."
"I don’t think you understand just how distressed she is, Mrs. Montgomery, She is refusing to come on this next scheduled visit."
Julia’s heart sank. The fear she had been burying deep inside her now sounded its voice through the social worker.
"Can I talk to her?"
"I’m afraid that isn’t possible right now, she isn’t here."
"When, then?" she said.
"I don’t know how beneficial you talking to her will be,’ said Mrs. Baker." She doesn’t want to talk to you."
"She doesn’t want to talk to me, or you don’t want her to?"
Julia’s voice rang with hurt and anger. Some for the position the social worker was putting her in and some because she feared this day would come.
"Mrs. Montgomery, Emily is fearful every time she visits the asylum. You must admit it is no place for a child."
"It’s the only place I can see my children. Can’t you make alternative arrangements?"
For a moment, the silence gave Julia hope. Perhaps the social worker was really trying to think of another arrangement. Maybe she would help Julia to see her children supervised at the CAS office; but the reply was dry and uncaring.
"Mrs. Montgomery, you should have put the needs of your children first before you killed your husband. Perhaps the best thing you can do for them now is to let them be."
Julia couldn’t believe what she was hearing. The only link she had to her children was an uncaring woman who just wanted to separate them permanently.
Her voice calmed and she took a slow breath before she spoke.
"You will be hearing from my lawyer, Mrs. Baker," she said, and then slammed down the phone. She rubbed her trembling hands together.
"It’s going to be okay, Julia," said Ben as he rubbed her shoulder.
Julia shrugged him off.
"No it won’t, not as long as I’m here."
Ben stepped back. She could see the hurt in her friend’s eyes.
"You’ll find a way to fix this," he said as he turned for the door. "I have faith in you," and with that he left.
Julia felt awful. Her stomach felt like it had devoured a poisoned piece of rotten meat. She ran to the hall washroom and expelled in painful gasp. In the stall beside her, she could hear Veronica laughing.
"Poor little Julia, got a tummy ache? Ha, ha!"
Veronica slammed the palm of her hand on the door as she passed Julia’s stall.
Silence followed with some relief of both Veronica’s taunts and her stomach. She rinsed her mouth and was about to go back to her room when a childlike laugh caught her attention. The sound was coming from a vent above the first stall. Julia stood on the toilet seat and listened quietly. It was not her nature to listen to other people’s conversations, but to hear a child’s voice from here, Well, that was enough to make anyone stop and listen.
The second voice was that of a man.
"You can have your baby back when we are done," he said.
"But I want her now!" the child said.
"Lay down." His voice commanded.
Something struck a nerve within her. Children were not there to nap, when they came at all; and her children were the only ones she had seen in the past nine months.
Julia dashed from the room and tried to visualize where the above room would be. She passed the nurses' station and Marge bolted after her.
"Julia, where are you going?"
"There is something going on," she said, "I have to go upstairs."
"No you don’t." said Marge as she raced after her. This was quite a feat for Marge as she was a rather large woman, but she managed to get in front of Julia before she reached the door.
"What are you doing? I need to go upstairs."
Marge grabbed her by the arms making heavy impressions in her flesh.
"You know you can’t leave the floor. Now are you going to fight me on this?"
Julia struggled in vein. She was petite weighing less than half of Marge’s two-eighty.
She stared at Marge. Her blood pulsed strongly through every vessel.
"There is a child upstairs and I think something is happening to it."
Marge looked thoughtfully for a moment.
"There are no children here today, now what were you really up to?"
"Yes there is, I heard one just a moment ago. Go check if you don’t believe me!"
"Believe what?"
Julia looked up to see Dr. Jamison staring at her from behind Marge.
"I caught her trying to get upstairs," said Marge." She claims there is a child on floor three."
"A child?" said the doctor," What makes you say that?"
"I heard one. Something is going on up there. I heard a man telling the child to lie down. It sounded strange to me."
The doctor looked at Marge.
"Is there someone scheduled to see his or her child today?" he asked her.
"No, hasn’t been a child here since Julia’s three weeks ago."
"I’m telling you, I heard a child’s voice up there."
"Where did you hear it from?
"I was in the bathroom and I heard it from the vent. A man’s voice was telling the child to lie down."
"Show me," he said.
Marge let go and stepped back.
Julia stood and walked back to the bathroom. She pointed to the ceiling vent where she had heard them.
"Well, that explains things," said the doctor. "That is the therapy room. Sometimes we allow patients to watch videos as part of their therapeutic care. Someone must have been watching a video."
"Then why haven’t I heard this before, I mean I’ve been in this bathroom hundreds of times; why only now?"
"If the doctor says it was a video, then good enough," said Marge," now get back to your room, dinner is in an hour."
Marge and Dr. Jamison watched Julia walk to her room. Once inside she sat on her bed and went over the sounds inside her head. It wasn’t a video, was it? Why wouldn’t she have heard the sounds before?
The sound of someone’s shuffling feet brought her attention to her door where she caught a glimpse of Gun as he passed by, looking in as usual. He spoke not a word but gave her that" look," as if he was up to something. She watched the deformed side of his faced disappeared before she looked away.
To her, he was the scariest patient on her floor and not just because he botched his own murder-suicide, or the fact he had partially blown off half his face; but his silent stare with his one good eye sent a chill over her that death himself couldn’t compete with.
Julia slipped off the bed and quietly stuck her head out the doorway. Gun was still walking down the hall to the T.V. room. Once there he stopped and turned back as if sensing her presence. She quickly pulled herself back into the room, but she was sure he had seen her.
As if the asylum itself knew she needed a diversion, the meal bell sounded. She was relieved and turned her attention to her stomach, which finally seemed to agree that she was hungry. Julia walked to the dining area and sat alone as usual. Veronica stared at her from the next table over. Her eyes glared behind heavily made up lids of black shadow. Julia stared back and ate as though nothing was going on at all. She barely tasted the salad and chicken through their bland flavor, but she was too hungry to care.
Veronica sat frozen for several moments then suddenly sprang to her feet and threw her food to the floor. She pushed a chair from her path and came straight at Julia. Julia readied herself for the fight to come when her view of Veronica was suddenly blocked. A blur of gray and blue stripe got in between them. He had his back turned to her, but she knew who it was right away.
" Sit back down," he said," and don’t make me say it twice."
Veronica stopped, and then made a run for the door.
Julia noted the scared look on her face like a deer caught in the headlights. It would have brought a small measure of pleasure to her had she not been so preoccupied with Gun’s strange intervention.
"Thank you," she started to say, but he didn't turn back to her. He left the dining area and his full plate of food behind.
No one else seemed to take notice in what had just happened. The other patients continued their meal, too medicated to care. Julia finished her food and returned to her room. The day’s strange events swirled around in her head like cotton candy around a paper cone.
Her head ached and her mouth felt dry. She sipped some water from a plastic cup. The water cooled her mouth but still left it wanting. She had nothing but problems with Veronica since day one for no apparent reason, but after several attempts at making nice, then simply ignoring her, it became clear Veronica wanted a fight.
"Can I come in?"
The voice was quiet and came from the hall.
Julia turned from the sink and nodded at Ben.
He rolled the medic-cart through the door and readied her medical cocktail.
"I’m sorry for what I said earlier Ben, I’m just not feeling like myself today." She took the little cup and downed the pills all at once. Ben cringed as he watched her.
"I don’t know how you can do that," he said.
"Do what?"
"Take that many pills all at once. Except for suicide Suzanne next door, I’ve never seen someone else do it. Just the thought makes me gag.
A small giggle escaped her. He really did look like he was going to throw up. Ben’s skinny frame stood behind the medic-cart. Hunched over it he looked shorter than his six feet. His bleached out blonde hair didn’t really look out of place on his tanned body, although she had heard the goons making fun of him. Ben was not a goon to her. He was different from the others, friendly and he really seemed to care.
"You’re not the only one," said Ben as he put the little cup in the garbage. He picked up his chart and put a check mark beside her name." Gun’s been acting a bit strange too. I saw him in the dining room tonight."
Julia sat on her bed and looked up at him. "I don’t get it either," she said. "He walked by earlier and looked in, but kept walking. After the Veronica thing he didn’t even say a word to me, he just walked away."
Julia could feel the medication starting to take effect. She didn’t have much time to change, before Marge would be there to tie her down for the night. Ben put the clipboard down and wheeled the cart to the door.
"Hard to say what goes on in the minds of the insane," said Ben as he wheeled the cart out.
"Hey!" said Julia as she tossed her pillow at him. In her medicated state, her delayed timing caused the pillow to hit another target, Marge. She stood in the doorway and did not look impressed.
"Time for lights out," Marge growled.
Julia assumed the position with her hands at her sides and her legs straight out, ready for the ties. Marge looked at her and flicked off the lights.
"What about the ties?" Julia asked in surprise, Marge had never forgotten them before.
"Dr. Jamison said not tonight. He wants to try something new."
"But what about the nightmares?"
"Your door will be locked so don’t worry. The doctor knows what he’s doing."
Marge walked over to the bed and handed Julia back her pillow. When she left Julia faintly heard the doors lock click into place as she drifted into the darkness.
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