Terror of the night.

Albion’s journal

Entry number 70.

This is another case I had to write about, for this patient’s story became partially my story as well.

Perhaps I have not mentioned this before, but I do psychiatry work outside the Parkhorst asylum as well. Sometimes clients visit me at the asylum in my office, on rare occasions I also visit them.

One day, I was deeply stressed after one of the patients threw a fit and tried to kill himself, I simply went to my office and wanted to relax a bit, but in my life, every time I try to relax even more things come up, I don’t even know why I bother trying that anymore.

My assistant came to me saying that there was a man that needed my help and it was life and death. Typically they all say that, but when the man named Don peeked through my door, he might as well been dead already by the looks of him. He was in his thirties. but looked to be sixty, his face carried an imprint of horror, the very definition of the word. Don had the largest black bags under his eyes I have ever seen, a tremendous redness inside his pupils, top front of his head was balding and rest of the hair was half grey, his face was pale and long, his lips have lost their color and looked like a dead rose. Don scratches his neck and constantly pulled skin on his fingers, all at the same time as he was shaking his legs. Even after so many years in the profession I could not help but feel his monstrous anxiety rub of on me.

I asked Don what the issue was and it took him a few minutes to start, as if he was scared to say something, Finally, he spoke of “her”, something that tormented him at nights and he could no longer take it. I asked him to describe his tormentor and how it happens. Don said that she comes at around 2am every night, although he has never seen how she appears, his body becomes paralyzed, although he can still feel pain, she scratches him and cuts him with her long nails, he cannot look away for she forces his eyes open, she screams into his face. He described her as green without legs. Don took of his shirt, he was covered in cuts.

Usually I’d contribute something like this to deep trauma, and due to cuts I would keep someone here because they were a danger to themselves, but for some reason my intuition told me otherwise and I never go against my intuition.

This man came to me because he still had hope.

Hope for the best no matter what the circumstance is the most remarkable human quality.

At least in my opinion, so I agreed to accompany this miserable man to his apartment that night and stay till 2am.

I let my assistants know that I would only be back around 3am. They looked confused. but made no comments, I liked that about them. Not nosy rats.

Don came in small beat up car. As we drove back the night has sat in and Don’s driving became hectic. He was looking out into the darkness on the side of the road and freaking out! I ordered him to stop, the rest of the way I drove.

When we arrived at the place he lived, I have to tell you, it was a dismal view, worse than my asylum. These apartments were run down, broken, cheap, ugly, tiny and depressing. How could anyone sleep here and not have night terrors?

We went inside and since we still had four hours left, Don made us some tea. It was by far the most atrocious tea I have ever had. Did he make it out of dirt? Oh poor man. Around midnight he lay down to sleep and I sat in the chair next to him. A silly thing, but I fell asleep, after a while I heard a creak in the room and woke up, I quickly glanced at the watch. It was just a few minutes till 2am. I heard the creak again, it came from the tall old mirror that stood next to the door, and then I felt my heart rate rise rapidly as I tried to calm my breathing, for a green transparent hand emerged from the mirror, then the rest of her, a hideous, dried out witch, with a large mouth and long sharp nails. She floated above the bed and I saw Don’s eyes open in horror, he tried to look at me but immediately they went back to her, I attempted to move my hand, but I too was paralyzed. I tried to talk, but I couldn’t open my mouth, then to my horror she turned her hideous face to me and brought a sharp fingernail millimeter from my eye, she laughed in a demonic voice and then I could hear screaming inside my ears that almost erupted my eardrums. The only hope I had at this point is the idea that this experience will soon end, but I was wrong, the screams, nightmarish images implanted in my brain and her scratching agains Don’s body continued all through the night, until the first light came. Don’s eyes were shut then and she floated back into the mirror. This poor man! How has he endured such a thing!?

The moment my body was released from paralysis I shook Don and he could barely open his eyes. I told him that I was going to get father Lucas, the exorcist, immediately. I hoped that Don understood me and I ran to his car and drove to the church. After seeing the state I was in, father Lucas came right away. I drove through the streets like a madman.

Once in the room I saw Don still in bed, he was staring at the ceiling. When I explained to father Lucas what happened he stared at me like I was some kind of imbecile. I still remember him saying that one phrase with tremendous disdain.

“You destroy the mirror, and burry it.”

It was such an obvious thing, I almost felt like his tone of voice suggested that I was a bastard for being so ignorant.

Father Lucas smashed the mirror and took with him in a bag without looking at me or saying goodbye.

I came up to the bed, Don was still staring at the ceiling. His lips were constantly moving, he was whispering random senseless things.

He was completely insane and now he has become one of the asylum’s patients. What a sad thing that he waited too long to seek help.

I almost went mad myself, just from that one time. For weeks I could barely get sleep and had to take anxiety tablets and sleeping pills.

Interestingly, when ever I saw Don in the asylum, his eyes looked rested, with hope in them.

I could say that I’ve been through stranger things, but then I would be lying to you.