Darkness Awakens

"Let me talk to him, Hawkings."

"Richard, it has been almost two months now, Dimitry has made no progress. My nurses are in danger. The girls won't get near him. And my guys have to go in pairs," Martin said.

"I know. But he is my patient and I won't give up on him. Besides, you promised me you would not put him in solitary confinement anymore," Doctor Bartlett said. "Where is he?"

"I tried, Richard. God knows I have tried. But the boy is relentless. He bit one of my guy's hands and nearly bit off a finger. For Christ's sake he almost stabbed you with your pencil last meeting!" The director flailed his arms in frustration. The man was stressed. Dimitry had proven to be a patient that pushed him beyond his professional limits.

Richard knew his older colleague had been going through a lot. He had read every report, and seen video footage. It broke his heart. But he could not allow this to continue. "I want to talk to him, Martin. His parents want to see him. They have the right to. But I need to see him first."

"Richard, he's a danger to everyone."

"He is my patient, Martin. I'll decide that."

"Do I need to remind you this is my hospital? The director here is me, Doctor Bartlett. Remember that."

"Sorry, Martin, I didn't mean to sound like that," Richard said. He too was stressed. He stood up from the chair he sat on in his friend's office. "His parents want to see him. Mrs. Hart is desperate. This separation has affected her greatly. I fear she's close to breaking and falling into a deep state of depression."

Director Hawkings pinched the bridge of his nose. "You realize if she sees him in one of his wild states that might push to that edge, right?"

"I know. But that's why I have to talk to him. I think letting him know his parents want to see him, that they still love him, might be what it takes to calm him," he said.

"You truly believe that?"

"I have to."

"Your dedication is to be admired. But aren't you going too strong? Why, Bartlett? Why are you doing this?" Martin looked deep into his friend's eyes. There he found the answer to his question. "What happened five years ago wasn't your fault. We can't save them all, my friend. No matter how hard we fight. That boy was lost."

Richard slammed his hand against the director's desk. "Dimitry isn't that boy, Martin."

"You are right. But I am not the one you should be telling this to. Tell that to yourself," Martin replied. He stood up, walked around his desk to place a hand on his friend's shoulder. "That boy took his life because he thought no one was on his side. Dimitry is similar, except he's more hostile. He doesn't bottle up his emotions like that poor boy did. We both know he could end up taking the lives of others before his own. He sees himself as a victim that has to fight back, not one that has to cower and accept his fate. So you are right, he's not Dimitry."

Richard's biggest regret was failing to save that boy so many years ago. And he felt he was going through that same path with Dimitry. He didn't want to repeat that again. Not this time. He would not see another young life vanish if he could prevent it. "Please let me talk to him, Martin. I need to fight to save him. Otherwise I will condemn him and myself," he said. "Trust me, I think this will work. It has to."

The director sighed. He would trust his old friend. "Fine. I hope to God Almighty you are right." He stood up to go to the door. "I'll take you to him."

"Where is he?" Richard asked.

Once again the director sighed, his shoulders sunk. "He has not been eating at all. Not one bite for the last two weeks. I had to...take a drastic measure again."

Richard would find out exactly what his friend meant by that.

Far in the distance, on the other side of the hospital, shouts of young Dimitry could be heard.

"Damn it, let me go! I don't want to. Don't you put that thing down my throat again!"

Dimitry was strapped to the bed. But he was trying to force himself free again like a chained beast.

One of the male nurses was forcing a feeding tube down the throat. The look in the man's face said he was as uncomfortable doing this as Dimitry was.

None of the nurses wanted to be doing this. Despite everything they felt horrible for doing this on a boy. They all knew how stressful force feeding was on the body. And on the mind. But they had to do this.

The boy felt nothing for them but contempt. Through eyes filled with rage he could not see the look of pity and regret in their own. Or the sympathy they felt for him. No, as far as he cared they were perpetrators. He would gladly curse them were it not for the plastic tube.

And even if he could it would only hurt. This was not the first time they did this. And each time they hurt his throat.

He looked at his left arm, at the iv attached to his vein. There was some blood around it. One of the nurses had been so nervous she used too much force and hurt him.

Dimitry hated them all.

"What's going on, Martin?"

"I'm sorry, Richard. But he wasn't giving us much choice. He was refusing to eat. Two weeks, Richard. Two weeks without eating," the director said.

"Get them out of there! I'll talk to him. Alone. No protests." Doctor Bartlett balled one of his fists. He hoped to reach Dimitry, help him, save him. This would only drive him further away.

Director Hawkings nodded. He ordered the nurses to release Dimitry and leave. "We'll be waiting outside if you need anything." When Doctor Bartlett was inside he closed the door behind them.

The good doctor sat down on a chair not far from the bed. He placed on his lap a thin, black leather bag. "I'm… I'm so sorry Dimitry. I never meant for any of this to happen to you."

Dimitry scoffed. He moved to sit on the bed. "Oh well, it makes it all better now. My throat hurts like hell. Arm stings like a bitch. I'm drowsy all of the time from the sedatives. But the good doctor didn't mean for this. So now everything is fucking great huh?!" Dimitry stared at the doctor.

Richard could see a hint of wetness in his eyes. The first sign of humanity he had seen on the boy. And under his tired, green eyes were deep, wide black bags. "Have you been sleeping?"

He scoffed again. "When they sedate me. But I'm tired. Always. And in pain. I wanna go home."

"I know. But you need to work with us. Dimitry, I'm not allowed to bring pencils or pens if I'm going to be with you. I have to type using this." From his bag he took out a laptop. He felt uncomfortable opening it up. "Call me old school but I prefer paper and pen."

Damn. This guy was a geezer.

"I know you hate this, but I want to ask you questions."

Dimitry rolled his eyes. When would this guy stop?

"Look, your parents want to see you. They and Cody miss you a lot. I believe you miss them too. Work with me today and I'll arrange a visit," the doctor said.

Dimitry looked at the man. It was not a surprise that he suspected him. No reason to believe his words. But he missed Cody so much. For that boy he would do anything. "Promise?"

"You have my word."

"What do you want to know?"

Doctor Bartlett opened a word document. "You told me you didn't love anyone but Cody, but is that really true? There has to be more than enough space in your heart for others."

"No. Only Cody."

"What about Arthur?"

"My dad's an arse."

"I didn't mean him. I mean your oldest brother."

For a few seconds he kept quiet. That was a name he had not expected to be uttered by the doctor. Not once had he asked about him before, during any of his previous therapies. But he couldn't answer because he was not sure what to say.

"Arthur…" What was there to say about his oldest brother? He had not seen him for months now. Well before he started to take therapy. "He was good to me. He used to protect me from Sean when he lived with us. Sean was afraid of him," he said.

"But then he joined the military, right?" Richard asked.

"Ya, the Royal Marines. He was following grandpa's legacy or some crap like that."

"Ah, so your grandfather was in the military then?" Richard typed slowly as he was not used to using a computer.

"Never met him. He died fighting in Ireland I think." Dimitry always felt a bit of envy whenever he heard people talking about their relationships with their grandparents. He never knew that closure. "Grandma died a few years later, when I was a baby."

"I understand. I never met my grandfather either. He died in the Second World War. Flying over Malta in forty-three."

"Guess we have something in common." Dimitry gave the doctor a small smile. His thin and exhausted legs swinging back and forth. "For class I did a project on Malta. Really like history."

"So do I. At one point I thought about being a history teacher. But I realized I could help children in another way." For the first time Richard felt a connection with Dimitry. He no longer felt like a stranger trying to force things out of his patient. "I believe you have a close friend, right?"

"You mean Henry? He's my only friend. After I got in trouble he's the only one that still talked to me. I like him a lot." Not like he had had a lot of friends to begin with, but after that first fight few dared to even look at him. All except Henry. "His mom's a bitch. She never liked me hanging out with him after that."

Richard forced a cough. Not a big fan of hearing a kid call an adult a bitch. But that could be the mildest thing Dimitry has done during the past few months.

For the next hour or so the two talked. Richard was delighted to hear Dimitry talk with him so openly. There was hope for him. He wanted to believe that.

He needed to believe that.

"Arthur, there will be no arguing from you. Understand? We haven't seen Dimitry in weeks. So please behave."

"Martha, please don't treat me like a child. Believe it or not I want to see our son too. I miss him."

The Harts were outside of the mental institute, inside of their car in the parking area. They had pushed Richard for this meeting, demanded it even. Too much time had passed without him. While they were grateful that their friend had been keeping them informed, neither parent could rest easy until they saw their boy with their own two eyes.

"I know you do, dear. I'm just so frustrated with myself. I feel we did the wrong thing," Martha said.

Arthur held her hand between his. "It was for his own good. It was hard, I know, but hard decisions are not meant to be painless or easy, Martha. But now we are here. Let's go see our son."

Both of them entered the institute wearing hopeful smiles.

Martha wasted no time in searching for her son. He was nowhere to be seen. She knew he wouldn't be waiting for them. That's not how things worked in places like this.

"Arthur, Martha glad to see you two could make it." Richard greeted them both, next to him was the director. "This is Doctor Hawkings, he's the one taking care of your son."

"Glad to meet you doctor." Arthur shook the man's hand. "I hope our son hasn't been a handful."

"He is a stubborn lad for sure. But I think we are making progress now." Martin looked at his friend. Had Richard not told them the truth about what has been happening here? He would have to confront him about that.

"Doctors… May we see him?" Martha asked. She grabbed Richard by his hands. "You promised."

"I know. We'll get him in a moment. Take a seat."

Richard went into another room.

The parents took a seat on a table and chair. A quick glance around and they noticed the place was quite dull. A lot of gray. It felt cold. Not the best of places for a child.

"Arthur, you think he's still angry at us?"

"Maybe. But time heals all wounds, dear. He's probably still upset, but I'm sure he will talk to us."

She hoped her husband was right.

"Mum? Dad?"

The sound of Dimitry's voice made Martha's eyes wet. Her heart raced a thousand times a second. The moment her green eyes laid themselves on him she jumped forward. "Baby!" She gave him a tight bear hug. "Dimitry I missed you so much. God, thank you for letting me see him."

Dimitry tried to push her away. He didn't like the feeling of the tightness. Not after spending so many days with the straitjacket. He didn't have it, but her hug made it feel like it. "Mum, stop it." Her barrage of kisses wasn't any better.

"Baby how are you doing? My god look at those bags under your eyes! You haven't been sleeping?"

"Martha please, don't smother the boy." Arthur stood behind his wife. "Glad to see you, son." He forced a small smile.

"Are you? Don't sound like it." Dimitry had a neutral face. There was a feeling of indifference in his voice.

"We are, Dimitry. We are happy to see you. Both of us. You have no idea how much we've missed you," she said.

"Huh…" Dimitry didn't quite believe her. She always covered for dad after all. But he didn't make a fuss over that. There was something far more important. Not something. Someone.

He looked around to find him. But nothing. "Oi, where's Cody?" He turned to Doctor Bartlett. "You said I would get to see Cody!"

Richard became startled by that outburst. It had been loud enough that a pair of male nurses showed up. He knew that Martin had them on standby if Dimitry crossed a line.

"I'm sorry if you misunderstood me, Dimitry. Yes I do want you to see your brother, but only after I believe you are better," Bartlett explained. "This meeting was the first step. I wanted your parents to see you first before. They have to decide if you get to see your brother."

Dimitry balled his fists, bit his lower lip. This had not been the deal! "Liar! You lied to me! We talked for over an hour. I talked to you so I could see my brother!"

The shooting alerted the nurses. They walked towards them to restrain Dimitry, as per the director's instructions.

Richard blocked their way. "Please, no need to escalate this further. I can handle this," he turned around back to face Dimitry, "Dimitry, do you think you can see him while being this erratic? We want you to be able to control your anger and outbursts, before you can see him. Do that and I am sure your parents will bring him during your next visit."

"Please baby, we want you to get better. Your brother misses you so much," Martha said. "Everyday he asks about you."

Those words made Dimitry calm down. He wanted to see Cody so badly; hearing how he still asked about him made him think that maybe his brother had not forgotten about him. It was enough to make one of his eyes wet. "I miss him a lot. I want to play with him again, mum."

"Cody isn't doing well. He has trouble sleeping. We even had to give him sleeping pi—"

"Arthur, be quiet." Martha tried to hush him but it was too late. God, why did her husband have to have a blunt mouth?

"W-What? You are drugging my brother." Giving a child sleeping pills? Because what? They couldn't stop him from crying? That's how everything was solved in this family, drugs. "What's wrong with you?!"

"Nothing. He was getting ill from lack of sleep, son," Arthur said. "He's alone and that's affecting a boy his age. Even Henry won't see him."

That took Dimitry aback. Henry was his friend, and he had always been cool with Cody. "What are you talking about?" Slowly anger returned to his voice.

Martha intervened. "Dimitry, baby, Mrs. Johanson doesn't want Henry near our house. She doesn't want him to be friends with you. I'm sorry. I didn't want to say this to you yet, but I know you hate lies."

Instead of being grateful for the honesty the only thing that he felt was utter rage. Anger and hatred that travelled through his veins, burning like acid. They were drugging his brother, and now he found out even Henry was being taken away from him?

Damn all of them. In the end it was the adults that were doing this. His parents sent him here, they always took Sean's side, they forced him away from his brother. Now Henry's mother was in it too.

It was all a plot to keep him alone. Isolated from anything he cared about. Because only like that they would keep him locked in here forever.

Dimitry took a few steps forward, moving near one of the chairs. He was silent. The voices of his parents and Doctor Bartlett sounded far away.

Yes, it was time he accepted it. He was alone. As long as he remained here he would always be alone. "I hate you," he whispered. He felt it. That rush of power that happened only when he was beyond angry.

Dimitry grabbed a chair by its armrest, lifted it and threw it as if it was made out of paper. "I HATE YOU!"

He aimed it at his dad but it missed. The chair shattered into dozens of pieces when it crashed against the door. One piece of wood rolled down, stopping near his feet.

"I hate all of you! Do you hear me? I fucking hate you all for this. You want to take everyone from me to keep me locked here, huh? Admit it."

"Baby no! We love you." Martha moved to give him a hug.

Dimitry would have none of that. "Don't you touch me! I hate you for always siding with dad and Sean." The hatred in his eyes burned so hot they could burn.

"Boy, how dare you speak to your mother that way?" Arthur moved in to spank his son.

But this time Dimitry struck first. He grabbed the piece of wood that was near him and stabbed it on his father's leg. "I hate you for being such a rotten dad. You are all rotten." He was so angry veins popped all over his skinny neck. "I. Hate. You!"

His anger had blinded him. Without noticing three large nurses were already on top of him. They were restraining him as best as they could. One immediately wasted no time in sedating him.

But Dimitry didn't fight back. There was no point in that. Besides, fighting back would mean being distracted from the sight in front of him, his father on the floor shouting and cursing in pain. Dimitry couldn't help but give him a smug smile of pure satisfaction.

He was as much of a big crybaby as Sean was.

As the sedative took the effect, and his body was once again restrained by a straitjacket, Dimitry's eyes moved to his mother.

She looked at him as well. She could see the hatred and rage in his small eyes. She could feel the resentment. Was this her baby boy? What had happened to him? What had they all done to make him like this? He was unrecognizable.

All of this action and emotions had proven too much for her. Martha fainted.

It was already dark, night had set itself earlier than usual, even for English weather.

Not like Dimitry would notice. The padded room had no windows. It was dark most of the time. More so in the corner that had become his place of solace whenever his mind was lost to his inner darkness.

"They lied to me in the end. My own parents lied. Telling me they loved me and cared for me. But they will keep me inside of this place to rot. I hate them." Dmitry's voice was darker, full of venom and hate. "I hate you both. When I get out of here I… I… Ha! Ha ha ha! I'll never get out of here." He laughed maniacally. "HA HA HA! I will stay here forever right? That's why you sent me here. 'Cause you couldn't deal with my problems and I."

By the time I get out of here Cody will hate me. They'll lie to him and turn him against me. I know it. Even if I can get out of here and escape, what then? I'm just a kid. They'll capture me and put me right back. Forever.

"My poor, sweet child. They've hurt you a lot."

"What? Who's there?" Asked Dmitry.

"Do not worry Dmitry. I am a friend. I want to help you." There was a mysterious voice coming from somewhere. It was a soft, serious, but cold voice. It sounded scary but not threatening.

Dmitry looked all around him. Behind him, above him, even under the bed. But there was no one inside the dark room. "Where are you? And how do you know my name?"

"Oh, I know more than just your name, child." The sinister voice answered. "I know everything about you. And as to where I am, let's say I am that annoying little voice inside your head."

"M-my head? You mean you are inside my head? I don't understand."

"I am the voice your subconscious is always trying to silence. I am what lurks inside the darkest part of your mind. I am the demons that sleep inside your head."

Dmitry gulped after hearing those sinister words. This was sounding terrifying by the second. "Demons? You mean you are possessing me?"

The voice couldn't help but laugh. "Haha no my dear boy. That is far from what I want.

"Th-then what do you want?"

"It is not what I want per se. But what you want, Dmitry.

"Huh?"

"You are angry my boy. You are full of hate for what your parents did to you. Am I wrong?"

Dmitry pondered that question for a moment. The voice was not wrong. He was furious for being sent here against his will. "Yes I'm angry. My mum and dad betrayed me. They sent me to this hellhole because they don't love me anymore."

"Yes, I know. And what is it that you want?"

"I want to escape from this place."

"I know. But there is something more. Something deeper. You have only been here for a few months but I can sense a darkness and hate that is, oh so appealing. Tell me Dmitry, what do you want?"

"I…I…I want to…" Dmitry started to smile. It was sly, sinister. He was losing himself in a trance, like he had done previously. "I want to punish them! I want to punish the people that sent me here. The people that hurt me. That lied to me. I want to be left alone. No more therapies. No more medication. Or doctors. Just to be left alone. But--"

"But what, Dimitry?"

"But first, I must punish mummy and daddy." Now Dmitry's voice sounded sweet and innocent. But it was all a facade. There was coldness and hate in those words. "They were bad. Oh so bad. And also Dr. Bartlett, he broke a promise. You don't break promises. And big brother. He is the worst. They all must be punished for what they did to me."

That was all the mysterious voice needed to hear. "You stay true to your feelings and desires, don't you, Dmitry? I can help you. Help you escape from this place and punish those that wronged you."

Escape? It was impossible, the boy thought. But why, and how, would this mysterious voice help him? "What's the catch?"

Clever boy. "Yes, my boy, there is a price you must pay. Because in this rotten and corrupt world nothing is free. Not even an act of kindness. The aid I can give you comes at a heavy price. Your humanity."

His humanity. That didn't sound so bad. "And what are you going to give me for my humanity?"

"I'll wake up the darkness inside of you. It has been sleeping for far too long. And with it power beyond your dreams."

Dimitry felt a cold sensation run down his spine. Not out of fear, but excitement. He smiled. "We'll then, let's get started."