here is the 3rd installment of “The Voice” story.
Warning: This is a bit dark.
The Voice in Her Head –
It was 7:30 am and Sharon opened her eyes, squinting at the brightness of the morning light that shown into her room and onto the ceiling above her bed. The wake-up of every day used to be the beginning of another opportunity to live. Her days used to be different and unique, each offering challenges and rewards. But now, every day of her life had become exactly the same. Nothing ever changed. There were no longer any rewards. And the only challenges she faced were finding a reason to live and finding a way to convince someone to believe her pleas for help.
Only Deklin, her beloved, remained as the one person in an ever-crashing world who listened to her. And the fact that he never left her, never doubted her and never stopped loving her would make the difference in this, the one day of her life that would finally quiet the voice in her head.
“Good morning, Sharon,” Lydia said with the same cheerful glee she greeted Sharon with every morning. “Did you sleep well?”
Sharon had no response. Words had become useless. Strapped to a bed in the psyche ward she had called home for a little more than three months at this point, she no longer needed to use words. No one believed what she said anyway. What was the use in talking?
“Here comes breakfast!” Valerie said with equal cheer as she carried in a breakfast tray, setting it on the table next to Sharon’s bed.
Valerie and Lydia were the first shift nurses who tended to Sharon each day. And as they unfastened the restraints around her ankles, Sharon looked up at the cameras around the room. She wandered if the man behind the Voice was still watching her. As the nurses flipped up her hospital gown, the only clothing she wore these days, they parted her legs and began to unfasten the wet diaper around her waist.
Sharon kept her eyes on the lens of the camera just above the door. This was the one with the bird’s eye view of her. And she was certain that this was the Voice’s favorite camera.
“It looks like you’re almost done,” Lydia said, folding down the front of her wet diaper and making reference to the slight traces of blood Sharon had passed overnight.
There was no modesty left in Sharon’s life. No dignity. No esteem. No purpose. No passion. Nothing. And as Valerie took a wipe between her legs, Sharon thought back to that day when the Voice trapped her on the elevator, recording the humiliating tasks he forced her to do while unraveling her ability to turn a blind eye to the pathway of destruction she created in her life. Then she thought back to that night in the hotel room when the Voice called her and forced her to walk around the city she had traveled to on a business trip, again making her complete some humiliating tasks along the way and this time, in public. He had degraded her, mind-fucked her and after she jumped off a bridge, she was taken to a hospital where the Voice visited her. But she was so drugged up she couldn’t see his face and didn’t recognize the timbre in his words.
All she knew was that he was someone from her past – someone whom she had trampled over, perhaps as a stepping stone to what she perceived would be ultimate happiness.
Lying in her psyche ward hospital bed, with her legs parted and raised, she wished she could go back in her life and make different choices – ones that wouldn’t causes others misfortune and harm. Her torture at the Voice’s ‘hands’ was never-ending as she had been made to face the consequences of all her ill-actions. Being lowered into a new diaper and coated with powder, Sharon wondered when the day would come that her very will to live this mundane existence would leave her – just as everything in life had done … with the exception of her beloved Deklin.
There was nothing Sharon could do to make up for her past. And until the Voice was done with her, she would be made to suffer – completely unbeknownst to anyone. In a sense, these were the consequences the Voice spoke of – the ones he said she always avoided having to face. Now, she had no choice.
“Sharon, there’s no one watching you from those cameras but hospital personnel,” Lydia said, seeing that she hadn’t taken her eyes off that camera lens yet. “When you choose to accept that the voice you’re hearing is only in your head, you’ll be fine. You won’t need to be in this place.”
Valerie slid the wheel tray over the bed, tucking a napkin in the collar of her gown as Lydia reattached the restraints to her ankles. She wasn’t even allowed to pick up a fork and though she explained that she actually slipped off that bridge, she was still believed to have attempted suicide. That was the reason behind the ankle and wrist restraints, the cameras in her room and the bi-weekly meetings with psychologists.
“Open,” Lydia said, holding up the first spoonful of hot oatmeal.
Sharon parted her lips and took in the first mouthful as she watched Valerie folding the wet diaper up into a ball and carrying it over to the small weight scale at the door. Her food and fluid intake was measured exactly and they recorded the weight of the waste leaving her body with the same exactness. This was why she was fed every single morsel of food on her plate. The nurses went so far as to scrape every last bit of it off the surfaces of the bowl and plates. When she was first admitted, she fought her feedings – being held down by several personnel as the food was forced down her throat. She had found some success in throwing the food back up from time to time, but her will to fight eventually faded. And she became compliant to eating after Deklin convinced her that there were greater battles to fight than food.
Emotions like humiliation had left her after three months, except when her routine changed and something new was added to her daily schedule. But this morning, her usual breakfast of oatmeal, toast and orange juice left her feeling that no surprises would unsettle her on this day. Little did she realize just then that the dreary raindrops outside would making this Monday more than just manic for her.
“And now it’s time for your bath,” Lydia said, attaching the mouth strap around Sharon’s head as Valerie wheeled the breakfast tray away.
The mouth strap had become one of those daily routines she got used to. Its initial purpose was to discourage her from trying to throw her food up. She no longer tried to do that, but the strap remained and would be used on her whenever she was taken out of her room. In the past, she had tried to convince visitors that she was being stalked and that’s why she was in this psyche ward. But her medications kept her emotions even nowadays and her outbursts had stopped. As Valerie and Lydia took the hospital gown off her, leaving her in nothing but her diaper and restrained to her bed, she took in a deep breath and exhaled through her nose.
“Dick and Ken will be in to get you as usual when it’s time for your bath,” Lydia said calmly. “Thank you for cooperating this morning.”
For God’s sake! She hadn’t fought anyone in for any reason in weeks! Thanks for noticing, ladies! Lydia had made it seem like Sharon’s good behavior was something new! Lydia and Valerie left the room, leaving Sharon’s door open and allowing her to become a spectacle to whomever might be passing by in the hallway. But Sharon no longer cared. It was pointless and she was certain that if she hadn’t complied with the ward’s rules, she likely would’ve been driven insane by now. Nobody listened to her and all they did was pump her full of drugs and try to convince her that the Voice was only in her head.
Raindrops on a Monday morning didn’t need to fall for each day to become as meaningless as the one prior. They weren’t helping her and she was sure she was in as much danger as ever. Being committed to a psyche ward only gave her stalker a greater upper hand. Now, he didn’t have to follow her and he would always know exactly where she was.
Being strapped to her bed was nearly as uncomfortable as when she got an itch somewhere and couldn’t scratch it or when a fly landed on her arm and she couldn’t swat it away. She couldn’t even call for somewhere to come help her, not with that strap in her mouth. There was nothing more irritating to her in life than having to wait. But her life had become a game of waiting. Much like the effect of Chinese water torture, her sanity was slowly being taken away from her.
The irony of it was that in the world of business and in her everyday life she was seen as savvy and successful, cunning and reliable. She had to be put in a psyche ward to be seen as insane.
And three months into her involuntary asylum, she made herself a promise. If she ever got out of this place, she would expose the doctors and personnel of this ward. Whether it truly was their wills and volitions to not treat the conditions of the patients they cared or not, all they were doing was drudging the patients through each day – some of which Sharon believed had very treatable conditions that weren’t being treated at all. Her credibility was irrelevant. Nobody believed her anyway. So she had nothing to lose, but potentially, her life to gain back.
Her lesson had been learned. But in the game of waiting, all she could do was lay there and think. Bronson Macadamia, the resident doctor of the ward, had told her time and again that she was obsessed with believing that the Voice in her head was a real person. Oh my good God, did she hate Dr. Macadamia. He should’ve been the one person more committed than any other to helping his patients recover, rather than keeping them compliant and complacent. The mere thought of him got her angry.
And as Dick and Ken walked into her room with a gurney to take her to the bathing room, she pieced something together in her mind that she hadn’t before:
The Voice, for as much as he was clearly criminal with act and intent, had left an impression on her that no one else had. Sharon wore walls of defense as battle armor for as long as she could remember. But she had to have everything taken away from her before she could see how much she had taken for granted. Happiness and success were never supposed to be acquired at the expense of others. Sadly, she had never been able to find either on her own. So, she took what others had, leaving that Pathway of Destruction behind her that the Voice had spoken about.
As Dick and Ken unfastened Sharon’s ankle and wrist restraints, lifting her up out of the bed and placing her on the cold metal gurney, she smiled behind the strap in her mouth – contented to know that while she still needed to have enemies in life to feel engaged, she now knew that crushing the easy targets made her no better than Dr. Macadamia and no better than any of the personnel in this ward. Because of her experiences she had seen whom she didn’t want to be like.
Being wheeled out of her room and into the hallway, she realized that the targets of her past made her feel better about herself. But with a twinkle in her eyes, she knew that her targets of the future would have it coming to them, just as she had it coming to herself until she paid the price and was forced to face the consequences.
The psyche ward had its usual visitors of a typical Monday. Strapped to a gurney by ankles and wrists, gagged with a strap and wearing nothing but a diaper, Sharon was wheeled up to the nurses’ station as Ken signed her out of her room and signed her into the bathing room.
Ken was a really cute guy. He was tall, always clean cut and had a smile that made Sharon tingle a bit, especially when he winked at her. Had she not had Deklin and had she not been a patient in the ward, she might well have flirted with him. He was a really nice guy who seemed as sweet as could be. Dick, on the other hand, lived up to his name. He was a fatter individual who could do nothing but boast about his stocks, have an opinion on everything and embellish every statement he made. Oh, how she wanted to put that gag strap on him – maybe just for five minutes so he would shut up.
Being as naked as she was really didn’t bother her anymore. At one point it did, but no longer. It was a quick trip from her room to the nurses’ station and then into the bathing room. Yes, she was seen strapped to that gurney by a few people, but she was just one of many. And besides, if she closed her eyes, she didn’t have to look at anyone. This was a part of her daily routine and she had become as comfortable with it as possible.
But today, the usual of her routine would constantly be broken. As Ken and Dick wheeled her to the bathing room door, they heard water running in the room. Ken walked up to the door and knocked, opening it to peer in and see that the patient who was bathed at 9:30 each morning wasn’t done. Sharon opened her eyes as they pushed the gurney alongside the hallway wall. The bathing room was never occupied at 10 am. How long was this going to take?
“I’ll start our rounds of Wing B if you stay here and get her prepped,” Ken said to Dick.
“Sounds good to me,” Dick replied. “What’s the hold up in there?”
“I don’t know, but there into the rinsing at this point. It shouldn’t be more than a few minutes,” Ken said, making his way down the main hallway and heading to Wing B.
A few minutes? What the hell? This really got her angry. Now, she would be a spectacle to all who passed by. Turning her head to the side, she looked across the hallway and saw Dr. Macadamia standing there with a group of six interns. Fire formed behind her eyes and she glared him down. Oh, the disdain she felt towards him might well have made him the greatest enemy she had ever had. But as she mounted her emotions to be rock hard, Dick unfastened her diaper tapes and folded the front of it down between her legs.
The look in Sharon’s eyes went from angered to horrified. But she couldn’t react, at least not openly. That would be showing weakness and she couldn’t let herself do that, not in front of Dr. Macadamia. Now strapped to that gurney, gagged and completely naked, Sharon stared up at the ceiling as Dick walked to the nearby supply closet to get towels for her bath. As the exposure rippled through her senses and formed goose bumps across her frame, her eyes fixed in on the lens of the camera above her – the one at the top of the hallway wall. It pointed right down at her and she knew the Voice was watching. He was probably even the one who delayed the patient still being washed in the bathing room.
Humiliation was a fantasy of the past and she no longer enjoyed when she was put in compromising positions, but she didn’t fight it. It was pointless. And as Dr. Macadamia approached her with his interns, she knew that humility was about to be taken from her again.
“Good morning, Sharon,” Dr. Macadamia said with that deep growl he called a voice. “I take it you cooperated with your nurses at breakfast?”
Sharon nodded slowly, glaring down the lens of that camera above as the interns gathered around her. This was a relief in that they shielded her from being seen by anyone else in the hallway, but it was also an unwelcomed shield as she had not only become a spectacle for those interns to look at but also a lab rat for them to study.
“Sharon will be meeting with us at 11 this morning. We’ll get into her particular study a lot more in depth at that point,” Dr. Macadamia said to the interns. “But she’s the interesting case we’ve ever had here. And despite how thoroughly frustrating she can be, she’s a fine example of how we must always perform our duties ethically at all times.”
The interns rapidly scribbled notes on their clipboards as Dr. Macadamia continued. Sharon closed hers eyes as she knew what was about to happen. And this time, she would make it count in her favor.
“Opportunities like this give you the chance to examine the patiently physically,” Dr. Macadamia explained, placing his stethoscope on Sharon’s chest before continuing. A lot of times the patients will injure themselves without the attendants knowing. Bruises, lacerations, any number of things.”
Sharon’s stomach growled and a sneer formed behind the strap in her mouth.
“Usually, for patients with a history of suicide they begin with no privileges that allow them to use their arms or legs,” Dr. Macadamia said. “In Sharon’s case, she will likely remain restrained and gagged for quite some time to come. And I’m certain she will grace you with the reason why when we meet with her at 11 am.”
Dr. Macadamia used the additional straps on the sides of the gurney to bow Sharon’s knees out and force her to part her legs.
“Now, because this is female patient, her menstrual cycle needs to be closely monitored and documented,” Dr. Macadamia said, reaching down to part open the lips of Sharon’s labia.”
Sharon’s stomach growled again and she tightened her muscles as the interns leaned in. One of the female interns looked at Sharon and they locked eyes for a moment. The intern smirked and then quickly wiped the grin off her face.
“As you can see, Sharon’s menstrual cycle is completing and you can expect a calmer, more amenable mood from her,” Dr. Macadamia said as the interns leaned in closer.
And when their noses were as close as could be, Sharon released her muscles and emptied her bowels into the flattened out diaper. In the process, she covered Dr. Macadamia’s palm with her mess. Everyone stood up and stepped back as Dr. Macadamia and Sharon glared each other down.
“Thank you for proving my point, Sharon,” Dr. Macadamia said as the bathing room door opened up.
Dick set the towel between Sharon’s feet on the gurney and began to push her into the bathing room. Ken returned quickly and walked in after them, closing the door and turning to see the mess.
“I can’t believe you did that, Sharon,” Dick said, locking the wheels of her gurney.
“That doesn’t mean anything to her, Dick,” Ken said, bluntly. “Nobody believes her about anything. Why should she care anymore?”
Sharon looked up at Ken with a renewed hope that she hadn’t felt in three months. Was she finally getting through to someone?
Sharon loved to take baths, especially the ones with the mound of bubbles. She would often get into the jacuzzi tub at her apartment with Deklin and turn the water jets on. They would spend hours in that tub at a time. And when they got out, they would both be prunes, but there was nothing quite like reaching a summit of ecstasy in hot water. Who needed toys and jellies? That jacuzzi was her orgasm machine.
Unfortunately, her baths at the psyche ward were anything but relaxing and anything but memorable. There were no bubbles, no water jets, no candles, no bottles of wine and no Deklin. Still strapped to a metal gurney, Sharon watched Dick gathering up the hose and turning it on at the spout by the corner of the room. Ken unstrapped her knees and lifted her up slightly by the back of her thighs as he removed the messy diaper beneath her and returned her to the gurney.
They both unfastened her ankle and wrists restraints, flipping her over onto her belly and refastening her ankle restraints in the same place, but fastening her wrists above her head. Dick pointed the hose at her and she closed her as he squeezed the trigger, soaking her down like she was an automobile. She remembered the first time she was taken to the bathing room. She put up an awful fuss. They weren’t bathing her and she felt like an animal, but she no longer cared. The will to battle had been lost and acceptance had won her over.
Dick spent a bit more time hosing between her legs to get rid of the mess before he and Ken took to soaping her up with the suds from a small yellow bucket and two sponges. This was another moment when she saw the clear difference between them. Ken was at least gentle. Dick was just sloppy and fat, once again living up to his name with how rough he was. But she still felt like a farm animal. Luckily, Monday bathings included the removal of hair. And for at least one day a week shoe would feel like a woman, even if they nicked the back of her legs a few times in shaving her.
Then, they unfastened her restraints, flipping her over onto her back and continuing the process of her trough-like bath. As they hosed her down and soaped her up again, Sharon looked to the camera in the corner of the bathing room. If her hands were free, she’d be giving the Voice two middle fingers. Even if the Voice controlled the rest of her life, he would never defeat her completely. Yes, he had taken away her will to battle and had reduced her to a psyche ward patient, but Sharon would never let him win. Lots of things that were unpleasant or unfair happened to people all the time. Why should she be forced to face her transgressions? There were certainly people in life she owed apologies to and perhaps the man behind the Voice was one of them, but he would never hear her say I’m sorry. And if he had to kill her, she would die with independence in her eyes. The Voice would never win.
Thank God Ken decided to shave her front, instructing Dick to wash her hair. Dick could be as rough as he wanted up there, but from underarms to legs and the between her legs, Ken had the gentle touch she missed. Even if it wasn’t Deklin, at least it was something. The scrubbing and shaving ended and Dick took the hose to her again before they lifted her body up and took a squeegee to the surface of the metal gurney beneath her.
Sharon was then wheeled out of the bathing room, back into the hallway, past the interns and others who were nearby. She shuddered at the coolness of the air as the wetness of her body brought goose bumps to her skin. Usually, she would’ve been toweled dry in the bathing room, but because they had gotten behind on the schedule, Ken and Dick took her to her room to open up the space for the next patient to be bathed. Lydia and Valerie accompanied them into Sharon’s room and with quickness intended on get her warm, they unfastened her restraints toweled her off quickly and lifted her back into her bed. Valeria wrapped her wet hair in a towel and slipped her arms into a hospital gown as Lydia put her in a diaper and the guys fastened her ankle and wrist restraints to her bed.
Her meeting with Dr. Macadamia and the interns was only 15 minutes away. The guys left as Lydia and Valerie worked as quickly as they could to get her hair dried and straightened. 15 minutes was a completely unreasonable amount of time to get this done, especially since they weren’t allowed to take Sharon out of her restraints or take the gag strap out of her mouth. But when Dick and Ken returned at 11 am sharp to put Sharon in a wheel chair to take her to the meeting, the nurses had finished, making Sharon as presentable as the circumstances had allowed them to.
Her ankles were fastened to the arms of the wheel chair and her ankles the same to the foot rests. Ken and Dick wheeled her out of her room, strolling her down the hallway through the double doors and into the conference area that the personnel sometimes used as a break area. Sharon was left to stare out of the mesh screen in front of the window which faced Lime Street. On the corner of Lime Street and Lemon Street was a little café called The Lemon Lime Twist. Sharon’s mind went back to the day she met Deklin there. There were a lot of idle moments that she filled with remembrances of her life with him. It seemed the only bit of happiness she had when filling the endless time she now knew as life.
“Has Dr. Cornelius arrived yet?” Sharon heard Dr. Macadamia ask from behind her.
“Not yet,” she heard Ken reply. “He said he’s running behind and that you should start without him.”
“Okay, wheel her over to the tables. This won’t take long,” Dr. Macadamia instructed him.
Ken took hold of the handles of her wheel chair and turned her away from the window and from her reflection. Her mind returned to the moment and to the three tables that sat in the middle of the room in a U shape. Ken pushed her into the middle, facing her towards Dr. Macadamia who sat at the middle table.
“Okay. This is Sharon Locket, age 31, born on October 4, 1981 in Hartford, Connecticut. She has a degree in business and graduated at the top of her class from the University of Massachusetts,” Dr. Macadamia read from his paperwork as Ken unfastened her wrist restraints and took the gag strap out of her mouth. “Sharon believes there is a man stalking her. But I’ll allow her to explain. Sharon?”
“What do you want to know?” Sharon asked him coldly.
“I want you to explain to these interns what it is you believe about the Voices in your head,” Dr. Macadamia replied bluntly. “They will have questions for you along the way.”
“Well, let’s see. Where to begin…” Sharon sassed as she collected her thoughts. “I was trapped in an elevator and a man on the intercom began harassing me, threatening to destroy my life if I didn’t obey him.”
“What did he make you do on this elevator?” one of the interns asked.
“He told me to strip naked and when I refused, he turned the heat in the elevator way up. It became hard to breathe and I begged him to turn the heat down, but he refused. He began to state facts about me that he knew,” Sharon answered.
“What facts did he state about you?” another intern asked.
“My name, my birth date, where I went to school,” she began replying as she tossed an evil glare at Mr. Macadamia. “My parents’ names, the names of people whom I had past relationships with. And then he accused me of having hurt people in my past as I climbed towards my success and sought my happiness.”
“Tell them what else you believe he did to you in that elevator,” Mr. Macadamia said.
“He made me play with myself in view of the camera in that elevator and then he made me orgasm for him,” Sharon said coldly.
Her eyes glared Dr. Macadamia down.
“I don’t just believe he did things. I know he did them,” Sharon said to Dr. Macadamia with a growl before addressing the interns. “You’ll have to forgive my anger but this is the hundredth time I’ve told this story and answered these questions. Dr. Walnut and I just don’t seem to see it the same way. I’m certain what he’s told him is that I am paranoid and schizophrenic and that the Voice I heard in that elevator is nothing more than a voice I created in my head.”
“But that elevator wasn’t the only place you heard this voice in your head, was it?” Dr. Macadamia asked.
Sharon glared him down again.
“If I ever get out of this place, I’m going to expose you for the mindfucker you are,” Sharon growled at Dr. Macadamia before addressing the interns again. “But to answer Dr. Chestnut’s question, the stalker behind this Voice called me from a cell phone when I was in a hotel room on a business trip. His call displayed as coming from my boyfriend’s phone. He convinced me that my boyfriend’s life depended on my obedience. He forced me to dress a certain way and made me walk through a park into a porn shoppe where he had rigged up a private booth for me. Then he made me run out of the porn shoppe where I was chased by a bunch of creepy guys up onto a bridge that I fell off of. Later in the hospital, he would come to my bed side and threaten my life with a knife. And now, I live here.”
“Allow me to correct some of her delusions,” Dr. Macadamia said. “Although it is notable that she has told this story many times and that her story never changed, we had her claims investigated. There was no voice in the elevator or any special video in a porn shoppe booth. Her boyfriend Deklin was never kidnapped nor in any danger. Deklin’s phone showed no record of having called her and there was no spooky guy in the hospital who threatened her with a knife.”
“Did you recognize the voice?” another intern asked.
“No,” Sharon answered. “But when he came to my bedside with the knife, he finally told me that he was from my past. And that my actions ended a relationship he had taken up after he and I were together.”
“And why do you believe he is stalking you? Why wouldn’t he just kill you?” another intern asked.
Sharon looked at the floor for a moment before responding.
“Because he wants me to suffer,” Sharon said sadly. “He wants me to feel the same pain that I caused him.”
“If everyone is telling you that this Voice doesn’t belong to some crazed stalker from your past and if you are the only person who thinks he’s real, wouldn’t it make sense that perhaps you might be wrong? Why would you persist in believing something for which there is no evidence to support?” Dr. Macadamia asked with exasperation.
“Were you in that elevator with me when he made me strip naked so he could jerk off to my body? Were you in that hotel room with me when he called me? Were you listening in on that phone call? Did you hear what he made me do, convincing me he had Deklin’s cell phone, convincing me Deklin’s life was in danger? Were you in that hospital when he came to my bedside, put his hands on me and threatened me with a knife?” Sharon responded with disgust. “You see? I can ask you a bunch of stupid questions as well. Maybe I could be a psyche ward shrink, too. I find it amazing that you are not out there, looking for him. And I find it amazing that you know so much about elevator rides you didn’t take and phone calls you weren’t a part of!”
“Sharon, we’ve been over this before,” Dr. Macadamia said, burying his face in his hands before continuing. “Your apartment complex does have cameras in all of the elevators. But none of them recorded anything that you said happened. There is no video of him having done anything to you. There were fluctuations of power in the building on the day you claim he trapped you in that elevator shaft, but they disrupted service for a few seconds, not a few minutes. Your cell phone provider and that of Deklin Mulroney showed no phone call between you and his phone on the day you said this stalker called you. But people did see you walking through the park behind that hotel. They said you were acting strange. People did see you running up onto that bridge and people did see you jump off it.”
Dr. Macadamia sat back, looking at the interns and then back to Sharon.
“Well, Dr. Fucknut, that was an exceptional report,” Sharon said with coldness and yet another evil glare. “Since we’re into reviewing the same damn information for the millionth time, allow me to fill in our new interns on all the details you left out.”
Sharon took in a deep breath before beginning the same retort she always gave and one that the doctors never listened to.
“I’ve told you how crafty this guy is, but I guess I don’t have medical plaques to hang on my walls that make my words credible. I’ve told you how he manipulated the controls of that elevator when he wasn’t even in the building, but I guess that’s too inconceivable to be true. I’ve told you how he took control of the fucking phone company and called me from Deklin’s phone without even having Deklin’s phone, but I guess he obviously knows what he’s doing if he can fool anyone so intelligent as to have a medical degree and clairvoyance to know the real truth! Don’t you think he might know how to cover up his tracks?” Sharon screamed, bursting into tears.
“Sharon calm down,” Dr. Macadamia said, motioning for Ken and Dick.
Seeing the attendants closing in on her, Sharon knew what was about to happen and she went ballistic, trying to fight them off as they pinned her to the middle table, unfastening her ankle restraints from the wheel chair before holding her down and as Dr. Macadamia prepared a needle to inject a powerful sedative in her diapered bottom.
“Why won’t you believe me? What do I have to do to convince you that he watches me through those cameras? He knows I’m here. Do you realize that he could slip in here without any of you knowing it?” Sharon cried as she felt the needle sinking into her left bottom cheek.
As the sedative took effect, they fixed the mouth strap around her head, lifting her up and placing her on a nearby stretcher. Her head began to spin and she couldn’t fight back if she wanted to. The sedative always did this to her, but she hadn’t received it in a while. She was taken back to her room on that stretcher and restrained to her bed once again.
She was very groggy now and didn’t realize that she had been led back into her room for what would be the last time. If she knew what was about happen, she might have tried fighting in the moment. But fate had a particular way of making karma the one consequence no one in this world could avoid.
Weeping softly to herself, Sharon looked up at the camera above her room door as Ken and Dick left the room. She knew what Dr. Macadamia was doing. He didn’t need to schedule a meeting for his interns to observe her. All he really wanted to do was have another incident he could document that would make her seem crazy. Sadly, Dr. Macadamia couldn’t figure out her case. And instead of bringing others in to help and offer other opinions, he simply kept sweeping Sharon under the rug. Not having answers really didn’t make him look bad, but he felt it did. And he covered his own tracks of failure just as well as the stalker had covered his tracks. Sharon had fallen into Dr. Macadamia’s trap just as foolishly as she had fallen into the one laid by the Voice.
“Hello, Sharon,” a man said who shut the door to her room and locked it behind him, lowering the blind of the door’s window. “My name is Dr. Cornelius, but you might know me by a different name.”
The man turned around and in a matter of a split second, she knew it was him … the Voice, that stalker who had ruined her life. Her eyes grew wide and she tugged at her restraints, nearing a frantic state as he slowly walked to the side of her bed. Her head was feeling quite foggy by this point and with the added duress of the stalker appearing, her heart raced, making the blood inside her rush quickly.
Giving up on the restraints, she concentrated on trying to move the gag strap just enough so she could scream. He simply stood there and waited for her to finish struggling. It was all a part of his well-laid plan and he smiled at how helplessly she grappled with her bindings before growing physically weary and having to stop.
“You have no idea how long I have waited for this moment,” the Voice said calmly and quietly as she squinted her eyes, trying to make out his face, to no avail from the sedative. “The drug Dr. Macadamia gave you was a sedative called Diprivan.”
Sharon began wetting herself for fear of what would happen to her when she fell asleep. Determined to fight the drug’s effects as long as she could, she gazed up at him with a new-found fear, not for what this man would do to her but for an inability to even deny that she had caused her own problem.
“Soon you’ll be fast asleep,” the Voice said, taking another syringe out of the right pocket of his white lab coat. “But this time, you won’t wake up.”
She thrashed in the bed and screamed into her gag as long as she could before the sedative finally took a nearly full effect.
“I have counted the seconds to the moment when I finally got you to myself,” he said, flicking the side of the syringe. “But I feel it’s only fair that I tell you everything – here at the end.”
She looked at him, trying hard to fight off the grogginess.
“You’re a survivor, Sharon. That was one of the things I liked about you. You always seemed to find a way – no matter what the odds,” the man said, pausing to collect himself before continuing. “The strong survive, right? So I guess Lisa wasn’t so strong. And all it took was an email from you to prove that.”
Sharon’s eyes widened and then welled up with tears.
“Yes, now you recognize who I am, don’t you?” the man asked, rhetorically. “Lisa never did a blessed thing to you. But that didn’t really matter, did it? You were going to do what you wanted to, right? No matter who you hurt along the way. I bet you’d like to know what happened to Lisa because of you, wouldn’t you?”
The man slowly walked to the foot of her bed.
“Ah, yes. You believe Lisa killed herself because of you,” the man said, making his way up to the left side of her bed. “I bet you’d like to know if she’s alright or not. You see, she was pretty strong, too. But if you knew for sure, then you’d be able to know if you were stronger than her.”
He leaned in towards her, whispering now.
“I have to commend you, Sharon. You’ve done an amazing job of finding a way to get off easy at every turn,” he said with an eerie tone. “Watching you – day in and day out in this ward, I realized that you had found a way to separate yourself from this place. And no matter what anyone does or says, you will survive. Not even Dr. Fucknut, which I thought was a hysterical twist on his name, can affect you.”
Standing back up, he returned the syringe to his lab coat pocket.
“The past can’t be erased. I’ve learned this the hard way. I lowered my guard when I knew I should not have. I allowed you to be the bitch you are and more people were hurt by you. I had the ability to stop you, but I didn’t. And now I can’t erase that mistake, but I can prevent it from happening again,” the man said with a monotone quality that made her shiver. “You’re very big at parties. You are a charmer. You can’t float from one conversation to the next, being bouncy and fun. And because of this, no one knows what you’ve done to others, how you’ve acquired your success, the expense others had to pay for the happiness you now have.”
He slowly walked to the foot of her bed, turning back to her.
“Everything comes to an end – for the sake of yourself, people like Lisa who never did anything to you to deserve your wrath, and all the stepping stones of your past, from Rich to Gary to Tim to Nick to Marc …,” he said pausing to look at the door before looking back at her. “and now, Deklin.”
Her eyes grew wide with horror. What was he gonna do to Deklin?
“I’m not heartless, Sharon. I never was. And that’s why I’m going to give you an opportunity to say goodbye to your beloved Deklin,” he said, unlocking the door as she wet herself again. “He’s waiting outside this door to see you. You’ll have two minutes with him. That’s all.”
He opened the door with a smile.
“Mr. Mulroney?” the man said with cheerfulness.
“Yes, sir,” Deklin said, walking into the room.
“She’s very tired and had to be given some powerful medication,” the man said. “Please keep this short, okay?”
“I understand. Thank you for the time,” Deklin said as the man opened the blind on the door before exiting the room and shutting the door behind him.
Deklin went right to Sharon’s side, leaning in and wrapping his arms around her.
“Don’t you listen to these people, baby. Don’t you dare listen to them,” he whispered in her ear. “I heard what happened and I’ll be writing it all down when I get home.”
Sharon wanted so badly to tell him to run, to tell him to save himself, to tell him goodbye, but it took all her strength to remain conscious at this point. The only indication he had that she heard anything he was saying were the tears that streamed from her eyes.
“Don’t you cry, baby,” Deklin said, tucking her hair behind her ears as he stood up. “Remember what you told me? About Karma? In the end, Karma will make everything that is wrong right again. Don’t you forget that, okay?”
Sharon nodded as the man opened the door and returned to the room.
“I love you,” Deklin whispered to her quickly.
“Mr. Mulroney, I’m afraid your time is up,” the man said, standing at the foot of her bed with his right hand in his lab coat pocket.
Deklin nodded that he understood and looked back at Sharon again to say goodbye for the night. Waiting until his eyes were locked on her, she crossed her eyes three times in a row.
“Mr. Mulroney, I really must insist that you go,” the man said, placing his left hand on Deklin’s shoulder. “There are a few tests I need to run before she falls asleep.”
“Thank you, Dr. …?” Deklin questioned, standing up and extending his right hand to be shaken.
“Cornelius,” the man said, shaking Deklin’s right hand with his left hand and refusing to take his right hand out of that lab coat pocket.
Deklin left the room, looking back at Sharon with confusion. What she had just given him was the warning sign. When Sharon crossed her eyes three times, it was indication that something was wrong. But for anyone nearby who saw Sharon do this, they would think it to be nothing more than a playful sentiment.
He walked out into the hallway as the door shut behind him. Hearing it being locked, Deklin turned around and looked at Dr. Cornelius through the door window to see him close the blind. Something was definitely wrong.
In her room, Dr. Cornelius took his hand out of his lab coat pocket, holding the syringe and flicking it again. Sharon wept uncontrollably as he approached her bedside, taking out a simple rubber strap from his other coat pocket.
“To be honest with you Sharon, you didn’t do anything wrong,” Dr. Cornelius said as he tied the rubber strap tightly around her right bicep. “You are entitled to be as sweet as cherry pie whenever you want.”
Hyperventilating at this point, Sharon watched as her restricted veins began to emerge on the surface of her right forearm.
“But you’re also entitled to be a bitch whenever you want, to whomever you want,” he said as he gripped her right elbow and pinned her right forearm to the bed, preparing to inject her with the contents of that syringe. “You’re welcome, Sharon. I’m taking you out of your misery. I could’ve left you in this place for the rest of your life and you would’ve suffered until you eventually lost your mind.”
At the moment that he placed the tip of needle to her bulging right forearm veins, Deklin’s fist smashed through the bottom corner of the glass in the door. He forced his arm through the jagged hole, slicing his hand and wrist as he unlocked the door. Dr. Cornelius stood up, shocked at Deklin’s return. Deklin shut the door and locked it quickly before lunging himself at Dr. Cornelius. Holding the needle as he would a knife, Dr. Cornelius stabbed at him and Deklin grabbed both of the doctor’s wrists as a struggle began.
“So … you are the Voice,” Deklin growled, pinning the doctor to the wall and thrusting a knee into his stomach.
Dr. Cornelius returned the blow with a foot to Deklin’s groin. Deklin hunched over and fell to the ground, bringing the doctor down on top of him as the struggle of wrists continued. Sharon inched her way to the side of her bed as far as her restraints would allow her to as she peered over the railing at them fighting on the floor. She was so groggy from the medication she felt herself passing in and out of consciousness.
“Vengeance is such fuel for fire,” Dr. Cornelius growled as he bared his weight down on Deklin, bringing the needle tip ever-closer to Deklin’s neck.
Deklin released the doctor’s left wrist and gripped the doctor’s right wrist with both of his hands, doing his best to keep the needle from getting any closer to his neck. The doctor placed his left hand on the back of his right hand and pushed down as hard as he could.
“Dr. Cornelius, are you in there?” Ken’s voice could be heard shouting from outside the door.
“Get in here! He’s trying to kill her!” Dr. Cornelius snarled as he placed his left hand on Deklin’s throat and began to squeeze.
Sharon wept from the bed, trying to break free from her restraints as she watched the needle drawing closer to Deklin’s neck. He was going to get away with it. He had already taken away everything else Sharon had in life. All that was left that mattered at all to her was Deklin. Ken tried reaching through the jagged hole to unlock the door, but drew his hand back out as the sharp edges of glass cut him.
“Somebody get me a key to this door!” Ken screamed from out in the hallway as he began kicking the door as hard as he could.
Deklin was losing oxygen fast as Dr. Cornelius continued squeezing his neck. He looked up at his beloved Sharon, draped on the railing, tied to that bed as if she were an animal. But the proof of her sanity was in the vindictive doctor who suddenly found himself in a situation he wouldn’t be able to get out of so easily. Unfortunately, the doctor had already convinced Ken that Deklin was there to kill Sharon. And when they got that door open, the hell of the Voice would win over.
“You should be thanking me for saving you from her,” Dr. Cornelius whispered to Deklin. “Your days were numbered with her, too. I was saving you from the fate that everyone before you suffered through. You can’t change who she is inside. You can only be charmed by her smile, like all the others, until she’s done with you. I don’t know why you can’t see it.”
Anger welled up inside Deklin and for as much as he was a reasonable soul, even he had his limits. He was human, just like everybody else and the doctor’s final words of “why can’t you see it” coursed through his mind again and again. He reached up with his right hand, stuck his right thumb into the inside corner of the doctor’s left eye and pressed inward until his thumb sunk in past the bridge of the doctor’s nose. Dr. Cornelius screamed in agony as Deklin yanked his thumb and dug the doctor’s left eye out of its socket.
Pushing the doctor onto his back, Deklin placed his left foot on the doctor’s right wrist, pinning his hand and the needle to the ground. He took hold of the doctor’s left hand with his right hand, grabbed the hair on the doctor’s scalp with his left hand and raised his right foot up to stomp down on the doctor’s throat, intending to crush his larynx. The doctor might die from the blow or he might not die but either way, he would never have a voice again.
As Deklin raised his right foot high to stomp down, Sharon screamed into her gag strap as loudly as she could. Hearing her cry, Deklin stopped himself. His pulsed lowered as he came back to his senses. He released the doctor from his grip and stumbled over to Sharon, removing the rubber strap from her right bicep as the door swung open. Ken and Dr. Macadamia burst into the room. Dr. Macadamia went to Dr. Cornelius on the floor as Ken pinned both of Deklin’s arms behind his back.
“Karma, baby,” Deklin whispered to her. “You gotta believe.”
But she didn’t want to believe anything that was happening. All she felt was guilt. In her eyes, everyone in that room had been compromised by her decisions, by her behavior and by the consequences they each now had to face because she refused to face them herself.
Dr. Macadamia, Sharon’s bitter enemy in the ward, merely tried to use reasoning to help her. Ken had spent three months tending to her needs and because he was the only attendant capable of handling her, he had been passed up for three promotions he otherwise would’ve gotten. Deklin had now been roped into the sick game that the Voice had played, a game that only existed because she had been a bitch to the Voice’s next girlfriend after her.
Guilt sunk into her heart deeper than it had ever gone. And for the first time in her life, she could clearly see the pathway of destruction that her actions had caused others. Watching the carnage unfold in front of her, she could no longer deny how the Voice was right. She had apologized to him, but she didn’t mean it when she said it. It was simply the right thing to say as the Voice held a knife to her throat three months ago in that hospital emergency room.
Before she could even try to make another feeble attempt at amends, Dr. Macadamia screamed from the floor. And with one swift motion, Dr. Cornelius stood to his feet, struck Ken’s throat as Ken fell to the floor and plunged the syringe into Deklin’s right shoulder blade. Deklin yelled in pain as Dr. Cornelius pinned him on top of her.
“Vengeance is such fuel,” Dr. Cornelius said, his left eye dangling from its socket by veins alone as he placed his thumb on the stopper, pressing down and beginning to inject the death into Deklin.
Deklin reached back, grabbing the syringe and yanking it out of the doctor’s grip. The needle broke off in his right shoulder blade as he turned around, jammed the broken needle tip into Dr. Cornelius’ jugular vein and injected the rest in him.
“Karma,” Deklin said between gritting teeth, forcing the stopper in.
Dr. Cornelius fell backwards into the wall and his knees gave way as he slowly sunk to the floor. Deklin turned back around to Sharon, smiling as he took the gag strap off her. But his smile faded as his eyes rolled up into his head and he collapsed on top of her.
“Deklin!” she screamed as loud as she could.
Then everything became blurry slow motion for her.
More help poured into the room as Ken and Dr. Macadamia were tended to for throat injuries. With no time to spare, Deklin was flipped over on the bed and his shirt was torn off as they checked his vital signs. CPR commenced as they readied a defibrillation machine that had been wheeled in. Plugging Deklin again and again with the paddles, the voltage was increased. But Deklin showed no response. She looked back over at Dr. Cornelius who sat on the floor as a lifeless figure. She had won, but from where she was sitting, it wasn’t a victory.
Sometimes when you win, you still lose. This was the lone thought that passed through her mind as the Diprivan in her system finally made her pass out.
Sharon awoke on the couch of her apartment. She was wearing nothing but her diaper and was curled up in a ball, wishing she had just woken up from the whole thing as having been a dream. But it was all real and there would be no denying it. Discharged from the psyche ward yesterday with lackluster apologies, her name and sanity was cleared as authorities discovered the Voice’s house with a ton of surveillance equipment and loads of information about her.
She thought back on how the whole thing started, on how she had opportunities to end it, on what she did to the Voice’s girlfriend and, as she had discovered, how the girl killed herself because Sharon had been a cruel bitch to her. The Voice’s words echoed in her mind:
“You’ve never once had to face the consequences of your words or your actions.”
“You’ll spend the rest of your life with a shame that just might eat away at that thick, unremitting pride you have used to destroy so many people in your pathway to happiness and success.”
“You’ll eventually learn, Sharon, even if it isn’t now.”
“When running into your past, I bet you’ve always had to run away from it. And there’s always been a reason.”
“How much money did you spend? Were you every appreciative?”
“Or was it that someone else always caused the problems in your life? Problems you had to fix, right? I’m willing to bet you’d throw your current boyfriend under the bus if it benefited you.”
Sharon stood to her feet, sobbing to herself as she walked back to her bedroom and picked up one of Deklin’s button down Daddy shirts, remembering when she first met him at The Lemon Lime Twist Café.
Oh, how she wanted to go back to that day so she could fix so many things before they happened. But even as she reminisced on what she would’ve done differently, the Voice’s words came to her again:
“You’ll never be able to erase your past or what you’ve done to people. You’ll have to live with the memories but also with the choice to not make the same mistakes again.”
She slipped into Deklin’s shirt, walking out to the kitchen and making herself a baby bottle of fruit juice, just like he always used to make her. She thought of how she had ruined so many people’s lives and how she never would’ve truly understood how that felt until now as she experienced what they must’ve felt. The image she would never be without was when she saw Deklin collapse on her. At that moment, she never felt more alone. The only person who believed her, the only person who gave a rat’s ass about her, the only person who loved her enough to stick with her through some horrible treatment, didn’t escape the fate of what her past attitude and behavior had caused.
Once again, Sharon was okay but now she stood alone. There was no one left.
She curled up on the couch and put the nipple of the bottle in her mouth, nursing from it as she snuggled up to the couch as if it were Deklin. But it wasn’t the same. She sat back up and drew her knees up to her chin, setting the bottle on the coffee table and burying her face in her hands. She sobbed and sobbed, before pulling herself together and putting her pacifier in her mouth. Rocking herself back and forth, she vowed to change who she was … at all costs.
And even as she reached a level of sadness that could go no lower, the Voice’s words filled her mind again:
“I hope you’re happy with yourself because in the end, that may be all you have left.”
Tears streamed down her face. There was nothing she could do at this point, but sit there and cry.
As if Karma heard her tears falling, the front door knob suddenly jiggled and she jumped, wetting herself with an inability to stop. Noises would probably forever make her jumpy from now on. Then she heard keys jingling and suddenly the door opened.
In walked Deklin with his right arm in a sling. She ran over to him, prepared to jump into his arms, but then stopping herself to carefully hug him around the chest like a little girl. He felt like he was really there. This couldn’t be a dream. As she would learn in a little while, the syringe needle plunged into his shoulder blade, not his blood stream. But enough of the death juice had still entered his system to send him into cardiac arrest.
“It looks like someone needs a change,” he said with that syrupy-thick Daddy Voice as he patted her diapered bottom.
And that was the only Voice she would ever listen to again. As he led her back to the bedroom by the hand, the word “change” kept going through her mind. And having not lost the most important person in her life, she was going to change for sure.
The ABDL MedFet Book – Sometimes, being a good girl is just what the doctor ordered.