Here is a horror story written by my own fair hand. I just want to know what you think of it. I’ve tried to write it in the gothic style kinda like Edgar Allen Poe & Mary Shelley. Do you think I’ve pulled it off?
Hope you like
PERFECT CIRCLE
Chapter I - Awakening
Interim report on new patient Josef Sebree: May 17th 1865
Today we received a new patient on the ward. Mr Josef Sebree was found by Peelers wandering the streets in a state resembling catatonia. Once the constables had ascertained his physical condition was not due to inebriation but rather to an impediment of the mind they brought him post haste to Professor Mann who then alerted me.
An initial interview with patient Sebree made little sense (as was to be expected). When pushed on the matter of his insensibility on the streets he merely howled furiously, execrating both myself and attendant John Mersault. He then went on to feverishly detail an encounter with (and I quote) “Satan himself” who apparently attempted to “suck the life out of him” before lapsing deeper into gibbering religious fervour. When we attempted to place him into restraints he lunged with his teeth at attendant Mersault, thankfully only inflicting a minor flesh wound. He was taken to a cell in the basement level in accordance with my prescription of solitary confinement. As per regional guidelines he has been given a copy of the Good News in which to find both solace and, hopefully, catharsis from his religious madness.
Dr Saul Pembry MD
Update on Patient #2577 – Josef Sebree: May 25th 1865
Patient Sebree’s behaviour since his admission has been, for the main, extremely placid. As a result restrictions around him were relaxed slightly to facilitate closer observation. This turned out to be a grave error and one I shall never make again. As per regional guidelines patient Sebree was removed from his cell for a cursory medical before full provisions could be made for what we expected to be a prolonged stay. AS was previously noted restrictions were relaxed and when attendant John Mersault released his restraints patient Sebree struck him a dreadful blow to the larynx with his elbow, knocking him to the floor where the resulting cranial impact propelled a shard of fractured bone into his brain, killing him instantly. Patient Sebree forced himself through the entourage of additional attendants in a desperate bid for freedom which was ultimately thwarted when the attendants caught up with him, forcing him back to his cell as humanely as possible (regrettably breaking his left tibia in the process). Once the break had been set in a sling with a splint, patient Sebree was tranquilised and placed back in his cell.
Dr Saul Pembry MD
Report on patient Josef Sebree – Self inflicted injuries.
Patient Sebree swings between light to darkness. At one minute serene, the next contorting in the throes of a demoniacal, psychotic fury. He has developed a predilection for self mutilation and although he hasn’t been given any implements of any nature he was still able to inflict wounds upon himself (by the use of his teeth to bite through the flesh of his wrist) which required emergency treatment.
His insanity is contagious, Several attendants have now reported patient Sebree performing physical feats which would crush a normal human frame. I have enclosed with this report written testimony from attendant Sykes.
“I happened past his cell, just doing my rounds as normal and I didn’t look in as I couldn’t hear any noise but I when stopped for a moment I could hear a wet cracking noise. I’d never heard anything like it before. It made me sick to my stomach. It was coming from patient Sebree. I looked into his cell and he seemed to be having some sort of fit. He was flinging his head back and forth so fast all I could see was a blur. His body was motionless but the noise seemed to be the result of the damage he was doing to his neck and shoulders. Ripping the muscles and snapping the bones. When I opened the door he stopped and his head lolled on his shoulders as though he were dead.”
Attendant Sykes called a physician to the cell where Patient Sebree was found to be in good health. No neck damage was found.
Interim Report on patient Josef Sebree: May 29th
Patient Sebree has become, if anything, even more violent. Traditional sedatives have little sustained effect and he has been moved into a padded cell after attempting suicide by throwing himself into the stone walls of his original cell. He is now under constant supervision.
Dr Saul Pembry MD
Medical report on patient Josef Sebree: Update June 11th 1856
Since Mr Sebree’s initial entry into our establishment (see circa. May report) I’m sad to say that his progress has not been good. In fact he has deteriorated into a state of virtual catatonia. As a marked contrast from his earlier conduct which exemplified itself in an extremely agitated, suicidal state of mind (manifesting itself in several violent outbreaks and lapses into pure psychosis, one resulting in the death of an attendant) the patient is now placid. Whilst to the uneducated eye his placidity appears beneficial to both the patient, the doctors, the administration and resident academia, to my mind it represents a significant impediment in his treatment. He will not talk to anyone (I suspect he’s lost the power, at least temporarily), he will hardly move from the cross legged sitting position he immediately adopts on waking (he even sleeps sitting up) as ‘twere guided into it by brute instinct (a distinct possibility) and his facial expressions are beatific, registering merely a dull stupidity. However, one aspect of his catatonia has interested me (and Messers Dean & Boyle) greatly.
Somehow patient Sebree has procured a crayon from one of the other, less secure patients (I’m still attempting to identify the culprit) and now spends his days drawing on the floor of his cell. Whilst many of these ‘drawings’ are the deranged scrawls of lunacy, some have legible form (although I can’t say precisely of what). One, in particular is of a vague, human form, featureless but seemingly embracing another smaller human form. At this moment I hesitate to speculate as to the significance of either figure to patient Sebree but I eagerly await more drawings and also the opportunity to discuss them with patient Sebree, should he ever emerge from his catatonic state.
Dr Saul Pembry MD
Brief interim update of Patient Josef Sebree: July7th ’66
After over a year in a state of near total catatonia, patient Sebree has returned to a state more closely resembling psychological normality. I intend to interview him at the first possible opportunity on the matter of the drawings he still produces with clockwork regularity, every day.
Dr Saul Pembry MD
Transcript of interview with Patient Sebree: July 12th ’66
I enclose this with the previous documentation and intend to keep it all away from prying eyes until my investigations are complete. Today I interviewed Patient Sebree. The resulting discourse has opened my eyes to the possibility of things I’d never imagined and still don’t fully understand.
Me: Hello Mr Sebree, how are you feeling this evening?
Patient Sebree: Good, I’m feeling good.
Me: That’s encouraging. Today I want to discuss your drawings.
PS: I know.
Me(tersely): Impossible Mr Sebree, I’ve only just now decided to bring up the matter.
PS: I know that too.
Me: Me Sebree, please don’t obfuscate, it will merely make this unpleasant for you. Now, I’m quite interested in the large humanoid figure you have drawn on the floor of your cell by the door. Can you tell me what it is?
PS: You know what it is.
Me: If I knew, Mr Sebree, I wouldn’t be asking you now would I?
PS: Just because you don’t know you know something doesn’t mean you don’t know it.
Me(irritably): Mr Sebree. Kindly tell me the meaning of the dra…
PS: It’s Satan.
Me(crestfallen): Satan? Come now, we’ll have the truth here, nothing less.
PS: It’s Satan, Set, Sadoc, Lucifer, Beelzebub whatever name you want to call him that’s who he is.
Me: And in your picture he is embracing someone, who?
PS: You.
Me(incredulous): Me? Why would he be embracing me?
PS(laughs): He isn’t embracing you.
Me: Why would I be involved at all?
PS: You aren’t. Not yet anyway.
Me: You’re making no sense.
PS(incredulous): You expected me to?
Me: You’re deliberately being facetious and clouding the interview with lies and non-sequiters.
PS: And you are searching for reason in the mind of the Devil!
Me(trying to steer the discussion back onto its original track)¨ I am of the opinion that the figure is, whether you know it yourself or not, a paternalistic one. Its pose is one of fostering, of protection, it’s…
PS: Let’s talk about my childhood.
Me: I don’t want to talk about your childhood, I want to talk about your drawings.
PS: Well I don’t want to talk about the drawings, I want to discuss my childhood.
ME: That is not permitted
PS: You said the drawings were paternalistic, so why not talk about my father?
Me: I see little relevance in doing so but if you insist. Tell me about your father.
PS: I never really knew him. He died when I was young. He was a big bear of a man with a shock of deep red hair, big butchers hands and a face permanently flushed with the effervescent red hue quintessential to those who loved life as much as he.
Me: Sounds rather like my own father, he also died when I was young. I don’t remember him as well as you remember yours, however.
PS: I’m sure you could if you put your mind to it.
Me(curtly): We’re not here today to discuss your father, or mine.
PS: They’re one in the same
Me(irate): Mr Sebree…
PS(interrupting): My father was killed on his way to work in 1822. He was walking to his stables, we lived on a Yorkshire farm you see, and he was leading the horses out to pasture, must’ve been about half past six and…
Me(hoarsely): How…
PS: …and he chose to ride the last one out himself, instead of leading it. What happened next isn’t clear. The horse hadn’t been broken fully at the time, something, probably one of the other horses, spooked it and it bucked quite unexpectedly. My father landed on his neck. He lay there in the mud for seven hours. I found him at one the same day. I’ll never forget his face, one eye was bloodied through and through but the other, the other was staring so maniacally that for years afterwards I couldn’t console myself with the idea that he was in a better place, his last sight must have been…
Me:…of hell.
PS(knowingly): You look a little shocked. Why is that?
Me: You just described, in perfect detail, the circumstances of my own father death. How did you find out?!?
PS: [pause]
Me: Answer me Damn you!!
PS: You think that’s special? What if I were to say the only reason you joined the medical fraternity was to distinguish yourself from your father, the local landowner? What if I were to tell you only way you were able to make it into the psychiatric position was to use your dead fathers influence to avoid taking final examinations, examinations you’d already failed twice before? What if I were to tell you that in order to achieve a position in this prestigious establishment you had to destroy the application of your former friend Dr Julius Ecstein? What if I were to tell you that you did it on September the 18th 1857 and you did it with a smile on your face? What if I were to tell you that you had dinner with Dr Ecstein that same night and the food tasted better because you were excited that he didn’t know what you did?
Me(in a barely audible whisper): You’d be right on every count.
PS: I’m sorry, I didn’t hear…
Me: WHAT ARE YOU!!
PS: What am I? Oh come now Dr? Isn’t it obvious now what I am? I’m the only person who could have possibly known these things. I am you.
Me:…
PS: don’t try to search for other explanations. There are none which suffice and you know it. Accept it, we are inextricably linked, we are one.
Me: How?
PS: Satan. Satan changed me. He sucked the sanity from my mind and with it came all restrictions, all boundaries. I see everything so clearly now.
Me: You’re insane. You’re completely insane.
PS: His reach is far and wide. It spreads across oceans, across time, space, dimensions, the universe is his plaything and now I am at one with the true perspective.
Me: the true perspective?
PS: Yes, as you will soon realise.
Me: If we are one in the same, why are we so dissimilar in appearance? Answer that!
PS: I have no idea, presumably when He altered my mind he altered my physical disposition as well. After all, what is a man other than the perspective with which he views the world? I see it all so differently now, it was wise of him to change my person as well.
Me: Why is your name different from mine?
PS: It was the name of one of the officers who arrested me. I was temporarily bereft of memory and took his name for the purposes of convenience. I do hope he doesn’t mind.
Me: This is physically impossible. You and I are in the same room, at the same time. There is no way we can be one. You are quite clearly delusional.
PS: Unlike you, I don’t attempt to look for reason in the mind of the Devil, I just accept his wishes as my own. I believe he sent me back to see my self as you are now. To see with my own eyes the disgusting, abhorrence of the human psyche festering offal like you and your obscene ilk represent. To show me the error of my ways, to keep me clean so I may never stray from the righteous path and into the wretched and depraved realm your pestilent kind inhabit. To give me a second chance.
Me: You are quite clearly insane, I shall have you taken back to your cell.
PS(with deathly calm): No need. In precisely fifteen seconds Attendant Palmer will come in and end this interview for us. He will then instruct you to attend a committee meeting with Dr Poe. You’re late.
At this precise instant the solid steel door of Sebree’s cage opened and in walked Attendant Palmer, precisely on schedule. He turned ignored Sebree, whom he considered beneath his notice (how his attitude used to mirror mine!)and in the face of my mounting horror, cold as winter fog, and the acidic bile slowly creeping up my throat like a Camel Spider, coating it with burning ooze, summoned me to a meeting with Dr Poe.
Apparently I should have been there ten minutes ago.
.
Chapter II - Nemesis.
After the meeting, which I confess barely held my concentration for more than a minute at a time, I left the sanitarium and spent several hours walking the streets, coercing my brain into formulating some kind of rational explanation for what I had just witnessed.
I walked for hours, well into the night. I ignored the pain in my feet and concentrated on the incessant worms of fear and self doubt that were gnawing their way through my brain like starved rats. Deep within the cavernous recesses of my mind a voice urged me to keep walking, to follow my own path. I could see the grinning visage of Patient Sebree, feel his guiding hand. I was almost delirious with shock and disquietude.
In the midst of my delirium I wandered into Whitechapel. To this day I have no memory of how I traveled there, nor why. Self consciousness jolted me out of my pitiful reverie the instant I discovered just how far away I was from the sanatorium. As I wandered aimlessly looking for a way back to a place I knew I took a turning down an alleyway. A turning that was to change my life forever.
At first it was nothing more than a pinpoint of light at the end of the alley. Then slowly, inexorably, it approached with the inevitably of slow death. It was shifting as it approached. It stretched across oceans, across time, space, dimensions, the whole gamut of human comprehension. It was shifting shapes as it approached me. I was transfixed to the spot by dismay as it approached. “May God shield and deliver me from the clutches of this Arch-fiend” I prayed as I swooned against a wall and slithered to my knees as ‘twere being physically weighted down by the tonnage of my own terror. The light grew nearer and I could see it for what it was. An indefinable haze of bright, bubbling, frothing aura’s and hues. Deepest red melded perfectly with a white that burned my eyeballs. The colours rearranged themselves before my very eyes as they intermixed flawlessly. They were so brilliant, so very brilliant. They twisted and writhed and unfurled into an eternal spiral of unearthly brilliance. The spectrum froze, fractured and pirouetted at the speed of light. It approached me and as it approached me it took on ague human form, featureless. It enveloped me. Embraced me. At that moment I experienced a thousand different forms of pain, physical, mental, emotional, spiritual, all forms fractured into more forms that fractured into yet more again. I could feel the demon probing my mind, running its ethereal fingers through the deepest recesses of my psyche. I could feel my sanity ebbing away from me. It was feeding off it. Eating it. My mind was being cannibalized. As I resisted it slowly emitted a long low scream, a raging howl – utterly inhuman. For a moment, I could see ghosts. Ghosts of others caught in this hideous apparitions harrowing grip. They screamed and gibbered like they’d been slit along the belly and were in the final throes of death. Yet they didn’t die. They merely screeched. Insanity was all that was left of them The creature had devoured all else just like it was absorbing the last shreds of coherence from my own mind. I was one with it, and it was one with me as it fed off my sanity. For a time it was impossible to tell how long I’d been in its grasp, it may have only been a nanosecond. However, Its vague humanoid form was slowly melting away from me now. It had finished gorging itself on my sanity and, now glutted, was slinking away to an alien dimension.
I stumbled into the London streets, not knowing who I was nor where. After staggering about in incoherence for what seemed like an age I was picked up by two policemen. One of them, I later learned on my journey to the sanatorium answered to the name Josef Sebree.
Epilogue.
The above is the statement of a vagabond who has recently been brought into our establishment by two of Her Majesties Constabulary. He has taken the name of one of his captors, a constable Josef Sebree, presumably because he has no comprehension of his own name. I for one am not bothered by this, at least we can call him something. I shall be referring this case to Doctor Saul Pembry as I am currently unequipped to handle his savagery.
Professor Frederick Mann. MD.
