psychologist pursed his lips.
“I understand why you’re here,” he replied. “I just don’t take kindly to the police interrogating my patients.”
Brent flipped his notebook shut abruptly, making a smacking noise. He glared at the psychologist.
“We have dead cops,” he said in a clipped tone. “Good men and women who won’t be going home to their families tonight because of some psycho who will kill anyone and everyone in his path. What does he want? Scarlet Paine. That’s all we have to go on. So you can see why questioning your patient is a priority for us.”
Officer Marlow shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, frustrated by the way her partner seemed to find conflict in every situation. She couldn’t help think that her job would be much simpler if she could do these interviews by herself. Unlike Brent, she had a calm demeanor__ and a way with witnesses, particularly the mentally vulnerable ones like the girl they were here to see. That’s why the police chief had sent her to the secure the mental facility in the first place. She just wished he’d picked a better officer to accompany her. She realized then, with a sinking feeling in her stomach, that the police chief hadn’t exactly had many cops to choose from. Other than the ones guarding the high school, the rest in the precinct were dead or injured.
She stepped forward.
“We understand the witness is in a fragile state,” she said, diplomatically. “We’ll keep our tone civil. No demanding questions. No raised voices. Trust me, sir, I’ve got years of experience talking to kids like her.”
They all glanced back through the window at the girl. She was rocking back and forth, her knees pulled up to her chest.
The psychologist finally seemed satisfied to allow the officers entry. He swiped the card against the door lock. A green light flicked on, accompanied by a bleep.
He led the two officers into the room toward the hunched girl. It was then that Officer Marlow noticed the cuffs on her ankles and hands. Restraints. The hospital didn’t issue restraints unless the patient was a harm to themselves or others. Whatever this girl had gone through, it had been horrific. How else would a sixteen-year-old high school kid without so much as a blemish on her permanent record be suddenly deemed dangerous?
The psychologist spoke first.
“There are some officers here to see you,” he said, calmly to the girl. “It’s about Scarlet.”
The girl’s head darted up. Her eyes were wild and roved across the faces of the three people before her. Officer Marlow could see the anguish in her expression and the desperation.
“Scarlet,” the girl cried, pulling on her restraints. “I need to find Scarlet.”
The psychologist looked at the two officers as he left the room.
Maria looked up at the officers. Somewhere in the back of her mind, the sane part of her was still working, still lucid and awake. But the part that Lore had messed with was in control, and it felt like a dark storm cloud fogging up her mind. She had to get out of this place and she had to find Scarlet. Scarlet would be with Sage, and Sage, she was certain, would be able to help her. He’d be able to undo what his cousin had done to her.
But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t explain to anyone that she wasn’t crazy, that she didn’t belong here, shackled like a convict. Even when her friends came to see her, even when her mother held her hand and cried, Maria couldn’t get the words out. Whatever Lore had put inside of her brain was impenetrable. And it was getting stronger. With every passing moment, she felt her strength seeping away. Her ability to fight Lore’s mind control was diminishing and the sane part of her was becoming weaker and weaker. Maria was certain that if she didn’t get help it would eventually disappear altogether, leaving her an empty shell.
The male officer stood with his gaze tipped down to Maria. The female officer perched on the side of her bed.
“Maria, we need to ask you some questions,” she said, softly.
Maria tried to nod but nothing happened. Her body felt heavy. She was exhausted. Fighting whatever Lore had done to her brain was tiring work.
“Your friend, Scarlet,” the woman continued in the same gentle way. “Do you know where she is?”
“Scarlet,” Maria said.
She wanted to say more but the words just wouldn’t come out. She watched in frustration as the male officer rolled his eyes.
“This is useless,” he said to his partner.
“Officer Waywood, you need to be patient,” the woman snapped at him.
“Patient?” Officer Waywood cried. “My friends are dead! Our colleagues are in danger! We have no time to be patient!”
Trapped inside her own mind, Maria felt her own frustration grow. She understood Officer Waywood’s concern. She wanted to help, she really did. But thanks to Lore, she could hardly utter a word. Getting the words out of her mouth felt like running on a treadmill – all that effort and she never got anywhere.
The female officer ignored Officer Waywood’s outburst and turned back to Maria.
“The man looking for your friend, his name is Kyle. Have you ever seen him before? Heard her mention his name at all?”
Maria tried to shake her head but couldn’t. The female officer chewed her lip and fiddled with the notebook in her hands. Maria could tell by her gestures that she was weighing something in her mind, trying to decide whether to tell her more.
Finally, the female officer reached out and squeezed Maria’s hand. She looked deep into her eyes.
“Kyle… he’s a vampire, isn’t he?”
From his standing position, Officer Waywood threw his arms in the air and scoffed. “Sadie, you’ve gone crazy! That vampire stuff is just crap!”
The female officer stood quickly, bringing her face up to the man’s.
“Don’t you dare say that,” she said. “I’m a police officer. It’s my duty to question this witness. How can I question her properly without telling her what we know?” Before Officer Waywood had a chance to respond, Sadie added, “And it’s Officer Marlow, thank you very much.”
Officer Waywood gave her a displeased look.
“Officer Marlow,” he said, enunciating it through his teeth, “in my professional opinion, introducing the idea of vampires to a mentally unstable witness is a bad idea.”
From her place on the bed, Maria began to rock. She could feel the sane part of her, buried so deeply beneath whatever Lore had done to her, starting to surface. Somehow, the fact that Officer Marlow believed in vampires was helping the trapped parts of her mind break free. She tried to speak and at last a noise came from her throat.
“War.”
The two officers stopped arguing and looked back at Maria.
“What did she say?” said Officer Waywood, a frown across his face.
Officer Marlow rushed to the bed and sat beside her.
“Maria?” she said. “Say that again.”
“W…” Maria tried. She shut her eyes and took a deep breath. Her lucidity was returning to her. Her mind was becoming her own again. Finally she got the word out. “War.”
Officer Marlow looked up at her colleague. “I think she’s saying ‘war.’”
He nodded, a worried expression on his face.
Maria took another deep breath, willing the lucid part of her to take control, to tell them what she so desperately needed to.
“Vampire,” she said through her gritted teeth. “Vampire. War.”
Officer Marlow’s face paled.
“Go on,” she urged Maria.
Maria licked her lips. It took every