Living Dead Girl ~ Chapter 4

Well….shit.

Trying to get useful information out of an angel was about as easy as hanging wallpaper with one arm tied behind your knees.

Go ahead. Try it once, you’ll see what I mean.

The wallpaper thing, I mean. It’s still easier than talking to angels. Closed-mouthed fuckers, the lot of them.

Seriously, I think Azreal only handed out his messenger feathers so he could play “Let’s frustrate the bejeezus out of Patsy”, & have fun stories to tell his angel buddies at the holy water cooler later about how many colors my face turned while he refused to answer my questions with straight-forward replies.

Jackass.

So, here I was, back in the the mortal world, in the good ole “loony bin”, with little more than some vague hints & pointed glances to go forward.

“Patsy…”

“I know, I know, another job, right? What is it this time? Smack down in the rec room? Someone choke on their midnight meds?”

“Uhhh…I’m not really sure. I haven’t looked, I was just told to send you to the East Wing of Third Floor. Lockdown.”

……

?

“You haven’t looked? Really?”

“No. I was told to send you, and that you’d need to go quiet.”

Oh….Hell…that was never good…

Going quiet meant incorporeal and invisible.

Serious wrong.

Um…

Ok…

It didn’t actually take much for me to flip the switch, but it felt all kinds of messed up, considering I was supposed to be using a physical body on this tour of duty, but…whatever. It was just a matter of mind over, ya know? Then, up two floors, and down the hall, to the big locked doors.

Which, in my incorporeal state, really shouldn’t have proposed much of an issue…

Except, I couldn’t get through them.

WTF?

Locked steel doors <incorporeal person… Normally, no problemo.

Until tonight?

Ugh, fine. Windows R Us.

Floating through the wall to the outside was nothing, around the corner to the mesh-screened windows, was easier than nothing.

Getting through the windows?

Stopped. Flat-out, fucking banned from entry?

You’ve GOT to be kidding me!

I reached out & felt towards the building, my “fingers” stopping mere inches from the glass -there – a barrier.

Someone, someone magical, had put up a barrier on the Lockdown wing!

I was going to get in there come Hell or high water, but this was going to require a magical lockpick.

And I had just the fiend for the job.

No, don’t autocorrect that. There’s no “r” in fiend.

Living Dead Girl – Chapter 3

“So, Patsy… You’ve been here for the mandatory 72 hours now, and we’ve run all the standard tests, what are your thoughts?”

Dr. Tellman pushes an errant strand of hair back behind her ear again, not looking at me, but instead, down at her clipboard, reading her notes.

“I don’t know, Doc, why don’t you read them to me, since they’re right there in front of you?”

Ooh, that’s got her attention. Her eyes snap to my face, a quick frown forming on her mouth, & lines creasing her forehead.

“Your thoughts are not written in my notes, Patsy, as you well know. You don’t share much of what goes on inside your head, actually, which has me stymied in your treatment. That makes it difficult for us to move forward, either with talk of your release, or further treatment here.”

“Well, Doc, it’s not easy being me.”

I shrug and grin, knowing she’s not going to like any if the answers I have to give her. Matter of fact, she’s going to hate everything I have to say, but? A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do…

“When you’re dead, nobody really listens, so why bother talking, am I right?”

And that’s how my vacation got extended from 72 hours to… Undetermined.

Anyway, Boss says there’s more work here.  

Yay.

Go team.

Why are so many people crossing from here all of a sudden, though?

Hmm…maybe there’s more here than just the random crossing-over jobs. Maybe I need to do some sniffing around, see why I’ve been handed a sit-still assignment.

“Got a job for you…”

“Yeah, yeah… I hear you.”

“Multiple targets.”

“Oh?”

“Fight between roomies, messy…messy… Sorry bout this one, Pats. Couldn’t be helped. Should’ve got out while you could, I think. It’s only gonna get worse from here.”

“Insight?”

“Gut feeling.”

“You don’t have any, how’s that work?

“Ha ha, smartass. Go to work.”

It was already dark in my room, but I could still see the darker entity slide away into the night, one of the benefits of being who and what I am. Good night vision is always a plus in this line of work.

Hmm, damn, he didn’t tell me where I was headed. Guess I’d have to improvise & get my information elsewhere.

“Azreal.. I need a moment, please?”

A single, white feather drifted down onto my bed from above, and I knew I had my audience.

Time to go see an angel about some dead people.

Living Dead Girl ~Chapter 2

“I’ve got a job for you.”

“What?”

“A job. Get up.”

“Fuck off. I’m on vacation.”

“Get up. It’s time to work.”

“Mmmphf…”

I knew it was too good to be true, dammit. Couldn’t even get a decent night’s sleep in the nut house, for fuck’s sake.

Fine.

“Where’s the job?” 

“Here, in B wing. Name’s Colton. Darwin Colton. You’ve got about 20 minutes, then you’re on.”

“Shit.  Messy?”

“Quiet. In and out like a mouse, doll. Hard part’s over already, just a walk and a talk.”

“Well, less cleanup that way, at least. Thanks for the favor.”

“No problem, see ya next time.”

“Yeah, see ya.”

The shadow detached from the window’s ledge and slid out through the cracks between the bulletproof glass and the frame, inking its way back out into the night, and leaving me alone in my room.

Great, now to make my way down to B wing, alley of the lost.

I slide out of the sheets & slip into my fuzzy socks, you know the socks you always get at the hospital – the ones with the little rubber grippies on the bottom, so you don’t slide all over & fall down, causing hospital accidents & lawsuits? Yeah, those fugly slippers. I love these socks. Don’t ask me why.  I’m in a mental hospital, I don’t need a damn reason, OK?

At least they don’t make any noise as I move to my door & peer through the peekhole window, checking to see where the nurses & orderlies are. I know their routine pretty well, but every once in a while, they like to mix things up, & run random room checks just to screw with us.

Luck’s with me tonight, everything’s clockwork. 

Nurse Hannah is on desk duty, which means she’s got her phone open, & is playing games, Facebooking, scrolling through some dating app or other, and is generally not paying attention to fuckall. Good for me.

That puts Randy, the night orderly, on the roof, smoking, which he does every night about this time, because he comes in at about 15 minutes to shift change reeking of cigarettes & hits the bathrooms to clean himself up & spray room freshener in his pits, like no one notices that trick. 

Gotta love predictability.

I glide easy back to my bed & lift the mattress, taking out the skeleton key I hid in the springs – one of the tools of the trade I take wherever I go, & use it to open my door. Doesn’t matter the lock, it always works. In my line of work, it has to. Nature of the biz.

Hannah sees nothing as I work my way down the hall, and hears less, ear buds jammed tightly into her ears. 

God, if she were any less clueless, she’d be a toaster.

B wing, here I am.

Key to the automatic lock, a soft click, a passive buzz, and I’m through the door & down the hall, slicker than snot.

Which door?

Oh…he left it cracked for me, how, thoughtful…wait.

Yeah…sigh…

That’s a slippered foot sticking out of the door, dammit.

Five little gray fuzzy socked toes stuck in the door jamb peeking out at me.

Darwin?”

“Darwin Colton?”

“Help!”

“It’s OK, I’m here to take you home.”

“But…but…”

“I know, honey, it’s OK. Take my hand.”

“Patsy?”

“Mmmpfh…”

“It’s time to get up. There’s been an incident.”

“What?”

“We need all the residents in the hall. Get up, please.”

“Fine.”

I stumble out of bed and blink my way out into the hallway, pushing my rat’s nest hair to the back of my head. Not nearly enough sleep in this damn place.

After “head count” is over, they shoo us back to our rooms to get dressed for the day & for breakfast. Whoopee.

“Didja hear?” Tommy hisses in my ear while we wait in line for the food. 

“What?”

“Some guy on B wing cacked it last night! That’s what the head count was about, they think someone helped him!” Tommy’s face is almost gleeful…sick little shit.

“Oh yeah? Who the hell would do that?”