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Emile hated this. He always did.
In the darkness of late hours he always found himself back here. Back in a place he couldn’t name, where noises blurred together and faces distorted themselves past recognition. He felt the sun’s rays fade away from his tattered and beaten skin as he continued to try and escape. Escape from this hellish place.
Smoke filled the air, shrouding his throat as he helplessly suppressed a cough. Anything like that would delay his little movement. And the only thing Emile truly knew about this place was that he couldn’t stay for another second.
Blood spilling from his arms marked his desperate thrashing around. He hadn’t done any of this himself, but as to who- no, what- did? The vacant question blurred his mind again as he turned around, staring back at what he was escaping from. He made out a cheering crowd in the distance, but without names to put to their faces they were useless to him.
Through the deafening crowd he heard something else: a snarl. He tried to get onto his feet but couldn’t get up, pain searing through what was left of his battered flesh. Something was holding him down, but he couldn’t tell what or how. And as he fell back down, something started tearing at his arm. He instinctively pulled away as it clung on and everything began to blur again.
The whole scene faded as Emile opened his eyes to a nearly pitch black room, his room. Sweat beaded on his forehead and the pain dulled, subsiding into a dull ache in his head he’d be worrying about later. Emile had grown accustomed to the place, but he hadn’t expected to see one of the few faces he was able to recognize in front of him: the face of Ms. A. Mesmer.
Mesmer was one of his psychologists at the hospital, one who’d been spending a lot of time with as of late. Since she’d arrived, she turned out to be the only person who’d captivated him. She spoke with him every day, kind and gentle words escaping her lips rather than the screams or reprimanding shouts of the other workers.
For a few months now this had become a somewhat frequent occurrence between the two. Mesmer’s treatments worked better than the rest, but they weren’t God’s work. He’d always had these horrid dreams, or as he heard the term passed around, night terrors even before Mesmer showed up. Though now, she started checking on him, and it eased his pain in a way he couldn’t explain or understand.
“Emile,” She ran her right hand over his arm while her left lightly ran through his hair and wiped away tears he’d barely noticed. “I need you to listen to me.” He slightly lifted himself up from the thin hospital bed, looking up at the psychologist. Her eyes held compassion like none of the other professionals, hopefully compassion for him. They also held knowledge, the knowledge she used to help Emile like nobody else could.
“Follow me. I.. I can save you.” Her voice slightly strained as she helped pull Emile up, standing in front of him as he stumbled up. He began to fall, Ms. Mesmer catching him in her arms. She leaned back a bit before pulling them both up, slowly letting go of Emile and approaching the open door again.
He walked forward again and saw the woman in front of him. Lights from the hallway behind her made her look as beautiful as an angel. The golden glow enveloped her figure perfectly, as if she were created in God’s own image. Almost as if he could see the ring of a halo around her head if he squinted hard enough.
Though his own personal feelings were besides the point of their endeavor.
He slowly followed behind her, going through the halls of the asylum that he’d been in for years, but could barely remember, even if he’d seen some of them daily. Like most things to Emile, they were familiar, but not memorable. He couldn’t describe the feeling if he tried, plus the more he dwelled on the gaps in his memory, the more pain it caused.
She held onto his hand as they went down a staircase, the leader of the two looking around for any other workers. The coast seemed to be clear as she led him through what felt like nonstop hallways that contorted and blurred together in Emile’s mind. Gray walls on gray floors confused him endlessly as he got taken through them. Mesmer’s heels clicked against the linoleum flooring, leading the pair to a pitch black room.
Emile lightly tugged on her sleeve. “...Uh, Ms... Mesmer?” The woman turned around, shocked to hear the almost constantly silent patient speak to her through the darkness. He’d done this before, but mostly to her, and very little at that. His voice was always very quiet, but it helped a lot that she was a good listener.
“Ada.” She paused, holding onto his hand a bit tighter. “You can call me Ada.” Clicking sounds filled the room as Ada Mesmer began typing away on a keypad. To Emile, the idea of this woman whom was practically his savior having a name of her own, much less one so beautiful, was captivating.
“..A...da. Ada.” Emile repeated the name to himself a few times, trying to pronounce it properly. The slight joy in his eyes became a bit more visible as Ada opened the door, fresh air hitting Emile for the first time in years. The sky was a dark blue, stars scattered across it as the two stepped outside. A cold gust of wind passed them by as Ada closed the door behind them and walked away from the facility.
Emile looked back at the place he’d been living in for so long. He couldn’t make out much but trees surrounded them, most of their leaves already decayed and fallen to the ground. It was a lot bigger than he had ever imagined, but it was so odd to be out of there that he couldn’t stand another look. He turned around before walking with Ada as she led him to the passenger seat of her car. Emile crawled in, unsure of how to sit as he dangled his feet on the edge of the seat and leaned back.
Ada smiled and closed the door, going through on the driver’s side as she turned the car on and pondered to herself as she drove through the dark woods. It was insane that she was doing this in the first place, and much more insane when she thought about why. Sure, she cared about her experiments, of course she did. Though, there was something more to it that she couldn’t admit.
“Ada…” She was pulled out of her thoughts by Emile’s voice again beside her. He’d moved over a bit closer to her, resting his head a few inches away from her shoulder. She glanced at the road again before holding the wheel with her left hand and reaching towards Emile’s hand with her right. She held it once more, wrapping her fingers around the side of his hand and putting her thumb on his palm.
A small sigh escaped her rosy lips as she comforted him. “Shhh.. it’s okay. Emile, we’ll be okay. You’ll.. you’ll be okay.” Ada looked down at him happily as he put his head against her arm. “From this day forward, my treatments will make it all better. I promise you, I swear to God.” She let go of his hand and lightly stroked his hair, playing with small bits of the messy black curls.
He let out a quiet hum, looking at the road ahead of them. And for the first time, Ada saw Emile smile.
She hoped to see it many more times.