Diary of William Winkler, PHD

Volume XIV, Entry 15

The screaming.

That’s what woke me from my slumber. It was the horrified shriek of a woman chased by demons. But not just any demons. These were demons of the worst kind, and they were real. The beasts pursued the young nurse through the bowels of the institute with a single minded purpose.

But who can say what that purpose truly is?

I watched the scene unfold from the monitors above my desk. The monitors I had installed upon Derek’s unfortunate demise. How many times must I warn these idiots not to go down there?!

Why was she down there? That is the question that truly needs asking. Her daily duties should never have taken her down to the dungeon. Only I now possess the keys to that dark and dangerous place. How did she get down there?

Forgive me, my mind wanders with far more frequency.

Once I awoke, her screams ringing in my ears, I knew something was strangely amiss. For her screams weren’t derived of madness, they were born of a preternatural fear. It was a fear I have become all too accustomed to, dealing with the patients of this wretched place. I ran for the monitors in time to see her fleeing the dungeon and bolting up the long hallway leading to the main floors.

You have to understand one thing about those lower levels. They are almost maze-like in their structure. Winding, turning, dead ends; the halls lead everywhere and nowhere. Constant shadows, a result of the under lit and centuries old architecture. The halls are as mad as the inmates. That poor young lady was finding that out as she fled for her life.

I watched as her form flashed by one camera only to disappear in the shadows and reappear a moment later, further down the halls. And I saw what chased her. Hunted would be a better word; playing with her like a rat in a maze. I understood, as I watched the pursuit, that they were shepherding her movements, guiding her to where they wanted.

A rat in a maze. Their maze.

I suppose I could have gotten help for her; for no one but me knew of her hopeless plight. But I was entranced by it. The scientist in me wanted to know the outcome of this experiment. I must admit to some spark of excitement as she fled for her life, her screams only increasing my morbid delight.

And then it happened. She had nowhere left to run.

The long hall had finally run it’s course, into a dead end. She turned, panic raging wildly in her eyes. I could practically see her heartbeat pulsing through her uniform. So thorough was her fear that she could not so much as whimper when Psycho and Wraith slunk from the shadows.

Psycho, hair drenched with sweat, hanging long and dark in his face, stepped to her left, Katie clenched tight in his hand. Wraith, pale and lethal, Lucifer incarnate, gripped his chain and moved to her left. I felt all the nerves in my body come alive in anticipation of what was about to happen. The nurse, to her credit, or to paralysis, held rigidly still as the demons approached her. Her breathing was labored, coming in short, desperate gasps.

What happened then puzzles me to such a degree that I think on it every waking moment.

Wraith extended his hand to her. The nurses eyes grew wide with the knowledge of her death. He put a finger to his lips, making a shushing sound. With his extended hand, he brushed her eyelids shut.

I sat back in my seat, stunned with what I had just witnessed. When I looked back at the monitor, Wraith and Psycho were gone. The nurse slowly opened her eyes, a look of palpable relief flooding through her. But why? Why had they not assaulted her, turning her pretty young looks into pummeled flesh?

That is the mystery that haunts me now. Why her? Who let her in? This bears watching, as does she. X will be here in moments to collect them. He need not know about this. I must find a way to relinquish control from him.

But not now. For now, I watch.

And wait.

Diary of William Winkler, PHD

Volume XIV Entry 14

It has been suggested that to truly understand madness, you have to go mad. So in that regard, I think I am beginning to understand, for I sense insanity creeping into my head.

What has brought on this insight into my psychological decay? Oh, it could be any number of things. Lack of sleep or food for the past five days, the constant ramblings of the insane I deal with on a daily basis, the recent events of Psycho and Wraith, or perhaps it's more simple. Perhaps I have always been bordering on insanity, a conceptual genetic retardation that has hounded me since birth. Whatever the reason, I am keenly aware of it's dark presence.

But let me not wander off topic. A moment of clarity is needed to relay my journey into the dungeon where Psycho and Wraith are kept. And we do keep them, like animals. I see that now. The abuse I have put them through in hopes of a cure, surely this is their revenge.

Clarity! Focus! Stay on point, William!

Yes, yes. As I stated in my previous entry, I went to see if my charges were back in their rooms after they tried to hunt me down. Was it courage that drove me to go down there alone, or ignorance? I'm not sure. It's funny how often, and how closely, those two traits resemble one another. But I did go down there alone, armed with only my weariness.

I slunk around that final bend that leads to the dank cells of our so-called dungeon. A dungeon that houses only two inmates, Psycho and Wraith. I could tell right off that both doors were closed and locked, there is a heavy sliding bolt on each door that was firmly in place.

I peeked into the first cell.

Psycho was rocking in the middle of the floor, holding Katie and gently stroking her bald head. Blood dripped from his dark soaked hair, splashing drops of the water thinned substance onto the dolls forehead. As I watched, the dolls eyes opened and looked at me! I swear it! It happened quickly, then they slowly shut. I backed up against the far wall, holding my screams while trying not to hyperventilate. I still feel the chills running up my body as I write this. That is truly when I became aware of my rising insanity. A point hammered home when I realized I was leaning against Wraith's door.

I turned slowly, my lips quivering in nervous fear. I didn't want to peer into his window, and even now, wish I hadn't. He was standing there, in the middle of his room, the dim light above him casting evil shadows about his person. Those chains of doll heads were draped about his neck as he gazed into my soul, unblinking. I was paralyzed with fear. Then he did something that...that I still can't believe happened. He mouthed a word. He didn't speak it, there was no sound. He just mouthed it. I knew what that word was. Listen. And so I did. I could hear, and again I swear this is the truth, I could hear those doll heads speaking! They spoke to me! ME! Of death, hate, love, and anger! Their disembodied whispers bore into me!

I screamed! Covering my ears, I ran back through the dungeons and up the flights of stairs. I was screaming like I belonged as an inmate and not the doctor. The orderlies and nurses looked at me with undisguised shock and concern as I raced past them into my office. I locked myself in and hid under the covers of my roll out bed. Even now, I cannot look at that moment in disgrace. For I truly witnessed horror. I witnessed insanity.

That's all. I'm taking my pills, lots of pills. I have to sleep. He will come for them soon. I must be ready to stand up to him. They must not be allowed to leave this place again. He has no power here!

Hale County Mental Institute is mine!

Diary of William Winkler, PHD

Volume XIV Entry 13

Oh my God!

Oh my God, oh my God, Oh my God!!

They almost killed them. Maybe they did. I couldn't stand around and watch it anymore. It was senseless, this brutality. They were hurting those men and enjoying it! The less resistance those men put up, the more angry it seemed to make Wraith and Psycho. Others tried to stop the attacks but quickly met with the same fate. Only when there was no more movement, the bodies lying motionless on the floor, only then did HE pull Psycho and Wraith off of them.

I have never seen such wanton destruction. It terrified me. How can I hope to cure their insanity against such mayhem?

I didn't have long to ponder that question. HE saw me and a new anger filled his whole body. He unleashed Psycho and Wraith after me!

I RAN!!! As if the hounds of hell themselves were set upon me, I ran! It was dark and the forest was thick. Each time I stumbled or was tripped by a tree root or rotted log, I felt that at any moment they would be on me, beating me as they had those other poor souls. That fear spurred me on with even greater haste.

How do I explain the fear in my soul? Hearing those chains rattling behind me, casting quick glances back to see if I could glimpse my pursuers, all the while hoping I wouldn't. It was madness! At one point the earth seemed to take leave of my feet as I began to plummet into nothingness. I fell for an eternity before crashing into a creek. I thought I might be drowned, and for a moment, I contemplated just letting the murky water take me and end my misery of my own choosing and not at the murdersome hands of Psycho and Wraith.

But I couldn't! I had to fight on! I had to live! I crawled from the creek and laid there for the briefest of moments, daring to catch my breath. That's when I heard the chains high above me, on the ledge I had just unknowingly fallen from. Knew fear roiled within me. I picked myself up and stumbled onward. I heard the sounds of two great splashes behind me and knew this pursuit was endless. They are mindless hunters and I the prey.  I ran out of the woods and into the highway where I was almost run over by a Sheriff's deputy. Thank the maker! He flashed his lights and whipped his car around.

The next few moments are a blur, as my relief was mixed with my knowing fear that I would see my charges, my inmates, soon enough. The officer thought I was drunk and was highly upset that he almost ran me over. I felt the cold steel clasp around my wrist and felt relief as one might a pillow after a long day at work. I sat in the back of the patrol car. As we were leaving, I glimpsed Psycho and Wraith at the edge of the woods, the blue and red lights of the patrol car illuminating them in a hellish hue. The officer switched off his lights, casting darkness around the area once more.

I finally arrived back at my office early this morning. I couldn't tell them what I had witnessed, I don't need that kind of scrutiny here. I had to take a cab as I had left my vehicle back at that awful place. Yet when I arrived, my car sat out front in my personal space, just as I had left it!

I write this now so there is some record of what has transpired, in the hopes that if something should happen to me, there is at least something left to shed light on these strange happenings.

I am exhausted. I haven't slept or eaten in over twelve hours. But I have one task left to me. I must check to see if they are back in their cells. Logic tells me to gather all my orderlies and go in force, just in case. But there is no rhyme or reason to Hale County Mental Institute anymore, and I shall do this myself.

The hair on the back of my neck is standing on end. Does death await me, or something worse?

It matters not. I must go.

Diary of William Winkler, PHD

Volume XIV Entry 12

What has he done?

I should have forbid him from taking them this time. Especially this soon after the incident with Derek. But what choice did I have? I dare not cross him, not now. He is powerful, almost supernaturally so.

Don't misunderstand, he as no comical powers, oh no, it's far more subtle. A deadly charm that can wile it's way into the psyche. Wraith and Psycho understand him and he understands them as well. Yet there is nothing spoken, only silent, intense stares. To gaze upon him is to see your doom. It's in his eyes, his walk.

I hate him.

He brought Wraith and Psycho back in a disheveled mess. They were dirty and bloody, although the blood is not their own. Which begs the question, to whom does it belong? And calm, my God, how calm they were. They creeped into their cells, settling quietly into their corners. Psycho used his spit to clean blood off of Katie. I may be losing my mind but I swear, the doll seemed to be smiling in pleasure. He strokes and cuddles it as if it were a living baby and not some armless doll.

Then there's Wraith. He began sketching on his wall. He hasn't sketched or drawn anything in months. In the past, it has been the once vice to which he seems to be almost human. This drawing was different. It was as if he drew his own shadow on the wall. I have scared myself with my own shadow after seeing his sketch. It looms above him, like a guardian, as he slumbers in his corner, the doll heads wrapped around him for comfort.

I MUST know!

That's it! I will follow him. When next he comes for them, I will sneak out and find the truth of this. But enough. I tire. I sleep with the lights out now, too afraid of waking up and seeing shadows dancing on the walls.

What is happening to me?