Rapture of the Deep, Chapter 1
Tina Breslin was led not so forcefully through the entrance of Lichtenwell Hospital. She found herself free of thought and expectation as the doors swished to a soft but convincing close behind her. Security escorted her past the registration desk where nurses silently swayed from one neatly trimmed pile of documents to another. Their eyes darted up to Tina’s face, then to her Level 4 Clearance badge and quickly back to their work. Just seeing where the guest was going was enough for them to not ask any questions.
Soft but penetrating florescent lights gave way to unforgiving white walls and cold off-white tile floors. Tina couldn’t help but notice the fine potching that was neatly embossed throughout the wallpaper that added a blemished character to the starkness of the empty color. She considered that no one should be surrounded like this. It was such a plain, yet deeply maddening color when in this high of a dose. White, bouncing off of white, reflecting off of even more white. Here was a facility designed to rehabilitate the mentally ill, and Tina thought that she herself had lost a few bits of sanity just upon entering. Although she was fairly certain there was other, more legitimate cause.
She continued with her personal Lichtenwell security down a pair of short corridors to an elevator. They passed other orderlies and doctors who seemed to barely notice that there was someone new walking around with a maximum security clearance. It almost seemed as if this was not an uncommon occurrence for the staff at Lichtenwell. Had she paid more attention, Tina would have noticed that everyone saw her badge, and chose to ignore it. Walking past over two or three dozen other employees, she saw not one other Level 4 clearance.
Away from the lobby and registration area, the halls began to vary slightly, with wood trim and whispering orange torch sconces delicately slicing through the vanilla theme. The elevator was ornately decorated with mirror tile and etched glass. Tina let her eyes trail over the markings and counted repeats in pattern. It was an easy way to shut her mind out. Count the buttons on the door panel. (19 total) Count the tiles on the floor. (only 12, they were large) The eyelets on the shoes of the large security guard that was saying something to himself. (four on each side of each sharply polished shoe) The stitches of her purse handle, buttons on her jacket, etc.
As the elevator opened on the fourth floor, the security guard (Tina vaguely remembered him saying his name was Bill) was speaking again and gesturing in some fashion. She wondered if he was always carrying on conversations and physical instruction with himself when reality slapped into her and she concluded that he was directing her to exit the elevator.
“I’m sorry.” She sheepishly stepped past Bill’s beckoning hand. “I’m a bit…”
“No worries, Ma’am. The first trip is very difficult for everyone.” He stepped off behind her and pulled a keycard to swipe through the next security door. “I was asking if you needed a minute?”
She shook her head. “No, I’ll be fine. I’m just having second thoughts about seeing him like this, but I have to know…several things.” She winced quickly against the silky warmth of fresh tears, trying to cram them back into their ducts like toothpaste into a tube. “I have…to….” and trailed off.
Bill nodded a sympathetic nod and slipped the card through the ATM-like reader. A red light next to the door handle went out briefly, then turned green. In what seemed like an instant, they were at the last checkpoint. The max security registration desk.
Tina’s mind began to race through the process. A cold woman with 30-years-of-cigarettes-voice took her ID and filled out a specific information card to file. No one could enter this level without one of these cards. The woman began to ask her some questions that only Tina would understand. “Do you have any containers of water or any other liquid with you? If so they must be discarded before seeing the patient. The patient cannot have access to any water whatsoever. There are no sinks or toilets in the patient meeting area. There are no liquids permitted beyond this desk.” Then she moved on to more generic, non patient-specific rules.
No recording devices, no cameras, you must leave your cell phone at the desk, oh its already in your car? Good. We’d hate to have it ringing and disturbing the patients. Besides, for all we know, there’d be some kind of way that your brother would see it, hear it, Hell sense it and somehow make a mental connection to water, and we can’t have that. No, that wouldn’t be good at all. When Charlie starts thinking about water, he has problems. We all have problems.
Tina’s thoughts continued at light speed as she was led to the interview desks that sat outside her brother’s cell. He was never permitted to leave the cell unless he was tranquilized for the trip. Tina remembered that from her meeting with Dr. Leroy at Lichtenwell one week ago. Prior consultation with a Level 4 patient’s acting counselor was a requirement before any visitation was to take place. The doctor explained to Tina that the first meeting with Charlie might be less than revealing and would perhaps not be very productive, as the staff was forced to keep him under a constant state of semi-sedation while wirelessly monitoring brain wave activity.
Make sure you don’t say “wave.”
As she rounded the last corner of the hall and saw her brother for the first time in over three months, Tina’s speeding thoughts came to a screeching halt on a portion of her previous consultation with Dr. Leroy.
“Ms. Breslin. I have to make you aware of something. The situation with Charlie is becoming…complicated.”
“How so, Doctor?” I know he’s really sick.”
“Yes, Ms. Breslin, but keeping him anywhere near other patients or even staff members is becoming increasingly difficult. The drug and therapy regimens are beginning to lose their effect.”
“Are you saying he’s becoming violent? Charlie’s never been…”
“No, no he’s not becoming violent. Far from it, Tina. In fact, Charlie is quite possibly the most withdrawn and passive patient we have on Level 4.”
“So, what is it, Doctor? Is he abusive? Threatening?”
“Tina.” The doctor took her hand at this point. “You know about the hallucinations. Charlie sees terrible things that we think are a result of his multiple exposures to nitrogen narcosis and improper decompression. You know that. That‘s why he‘s under our care here at Lichtenwell.”
Tina remembered shaking, ever so slightly at this point. The Doctor looked gravely concerned, frightened actually, and it scared her to the deepest core of her heart.
“The problem is, those of us around him. The nurses, security, other patients.” Dr. Leroy took a deep breath. “Tina, I don’t know how to say this because I still can’t believe it. I wouldn’t believe it if it weren’t happening to me, too.” He released her hand and sat back in his chair, stiff as a corpse.
“Those awful things he sees? We’re all starting to see them too.”
