By Atticus Pixton
At St. Fillan’s Mental Institution, there is one room in the West Wing, whose light is always on. For the last three years, whether day, night, aernoon, sunshine, rain, tornado, sleet, or snow, the light stubbornly shines on. The patient in the room, Mr. Ryan Renfield, asks for nothing except that his light is on. Always. It must never be off. Whether he’s in the room or not, the light must remain on. His whole world seemed to be built around this light. It seemed like he had devoted his life to the light like a monk devotes his life to his god.
Dr. Janelle V. Williams, Mr. Renfield’s new doctor, unfortunately did not know this. All she knew was that she hated this place, and carried a taser just in case. She had heard that sometimes Ryan Renfield was rather… ‘defensive’ about his light.
Renfield’s room used to be an oversized utility closet, which was repurposed for him when the hospital underwent renovations three years ago. It was just going to be another closet. However, when Mr. Renfield checked himself in, he was—as his file said—a very cooperative patient. Except for the light thing. He was so cooperative, that when he asked for the room, everyone in the hospital was happy to accommodate him. Over the last three years, Renfield had apparently turned the room into his own. Everything that was in the room, except for the hospital bed, was Renfield’s. Williams found it inappropriate and unprofessional. “So many ridiculous accommodations.”
The previous doctors who worked with Renfield said that the accommodations were improving his mental state. But if Mr. Renfield was so improved, why was he still at St. Fillan’s, wasting the electricity bill and everyone’s time? Just from looking at the file, Williams easily deduced that this was a simple case of nyctophobia. Easily cured through some exposure therapy! But somehow, this man had charmed his way out of the treatment he needed.
Without knocking—Willaims entered the fluorescent-lit room, closed the door, and saw a man, about 27-years old, sitting on his bed. He was furiously writing, or drawing, or probably just scribbling nonsense in a little notebook, having barely noticed Dr. Williams.
“Ahem.”
“Huh, yes?” the man, Mr. Renfield, closed his notebook and set it on the nightstand next to the bed.
“Hello Mr. Renfield. I’m Dr. Williams.”
“Where have I heard your name before? You’re on the administrative staff, right?”
“Yes, I am one of the youngest members.”
“Oh,” Renfield stood up, smiling. “Nice to meet you, doc.”
“Pleasure,” Williams forced through her teeth. “Please call me doctor.”
“Alright cool. What is it?”
Williams was momentarily distracted by how many notebooks Renfield had on his nightstand. “Ahem. Alright. I’ve read your file, and as your doctor, I seriously believe you are overdue for some exposure therapy,” Dr. Williams said. “Which means turning off these lights.”
Renfield’s entire demeanor shied. “No.”
“I’m not asking, I am informing you.”
“I have one rule. I’ll take any medication! Do any treatment! But we leave the lights on!”
“Nyctophobia is very easy to–”
“I’m not afraid of the dark!”
“Turn off the light then.”
“No!”
“See Mr. Renfield, some exposure therapy will do you some good. You’ve already made a safe environment here.”
“No! The lights say on! Leave the lights on!” Renfield said angrily. “Get out. I
want a new doctor!”
Williams groaned, walking to the light switch. “Look Mr. Renfield! Nothing is
gon–aaugh!”
Renfield grabbed her by the collar of her coat, growling as he pulled her up to his eye level. “I said, leave. The. Lights. ON!” he roared, shoving Williams across the room into a cabinet. Collecting herself, she looked up to see Renfield standing hunched over like Mr Hyde, his hand clawed around the light switches like a cage.
“Mr. Renfield?”
“Get back! Stay away!”
“Mr. Renfield… I need you to calm down.”
“I said stay away!”
“There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
“No! There is!”
“No, there is not!”
“Yes there is!”
“Mr. Renfield, please, there is nothing to be-”
“I said stay away!” Renfield hissed, flashing a pocket knife blade out from his jacket pocket.
“Woah! Woah! Mr. Renfield! This is unacceptable”
“I ask only one thing from anyone in this hospital, ANYONE! Is leave the lights ON!”
“How did you sneak a pocket knife in?”
“Never turn these lights off!”
Williams slowly pulled her taser out of her back pocket and held it behind her back, slowly approaching the lunatic. “Put the knife down, Mr. Renfield.”
“Then leave the lights on!”
“Put… the… knife… down!”
“Leave! The! Lights! O-AAAUUUUGGGHHH!” Williams jammed her taser into Renfield’s side. Renfield dropped his pocket knife and began to convulse from the pain.
“Mr. Renfield, there is nothing wrong. See?”
“NO!” Renfield tried to stop her, but Williams switched off the lights.
Still recovering from the taser, Renfield pushed aside Williams again. The lights turned on, slightly dimmer than before. “ARE YOU INSANE?”
“Look who’s asking!” Williams condescendingly stood up and crossed her arms.
Renfield shot his head around the room. “You’ve killed me,” Renfield began hyperventilating. “I’m a dead man!”
“Mr. Renfield!”
“I needed more time. I’m not ready. I needed more time,” he began opening cabinets.
“More time for what?”
“It’s coming,” Renfield said as he pulled out lanterns and flashlights, almost dropping them as he rushed to turn them on. “You turned off the lights. You let it in! You never should have turned them off!”
“The lights were off for… Ten… Ten seconds, Mr. Renfield!”
“All it needs is ONE SECOND! THE LIGHTS KEEP IT AWAY, YOU IDIOT! I had a plan, but I needed more time! But now its back. You opened the door. I’M DEAD NOW BECAUSE OF YOU!”
“MR. RENFIELD! You are safe! NOTHING HAS HAPPENED!”
Then, the lights started flickering.
Not just the ceiling lights. But the lanterns and flashlights that Renfield had just pulled out and turned on as well. Then all began flickering.
“No! No. No. No. No! No. No. No! No! No! No! NO! I’m not ready! I needed more
time.”
“I’ve had enough of this,” Williams turned to leave, but the door wouldn’t open. She shook the doorknob, trying to get it to open but it didn’t work. She let go confused. The door had been unlocked the whole time. How was it now locked?
Then the doorknob began bouncing up and down. Neither Williams nor Renfield were touching the door.
“It’s here,” Renfield said, coldly. The lights began to flicker faster.
The lights kept flickering faster, more and more violently; the gaps between darkness became shorter and shorter, until the lights would only shine for less than a tenth of a second.
“Rrrrrrrrryyyyyyyyyy… aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnn!” a shrill, ghastly voice cried behind them. Turning around, Williams saw the shadow of something by Renfield’s bed.
It looked like a human, but it wasn’t. Yet Williams couldn’t figure out what was wrong. Was it that the thing’s head was tilted too far to the le, or the arms were mismatched, or the fingers looked a little too big and looked more like claws?
“Who-” she tried to ask, but a hand cupped over her mouth.
“Don’t,” Renfield whispered, desperation in his voice. “Don’t listen to it. Don’t talk to it. Just get the lights back on. I’ve prepared for this; the breaker is in the corner right behind us. The switch to this room has a piece of tape shaped like a flag over it. Go. Go!”
Then the shadow began to walk forward. Each step landing hard on the heel, like a grumbling thunderstorm, holding back the ready to strike lightning.
“Go! Now!” Renfield pushed her behind him, towards the corner of the room.
Williams turned and through the flickers, saw glimpses of the shadow creature softly stomping towards Renfield.
“So, we meet again…” Renfield stood his ground.
The shadow moved forward, its joints cracking and contorting. Williams quicked looked away to find the breaker.
“How could you let me die?” A deep baritone voice asked between the thumps of thunder.
Williams shook her head, trying to focus, her heart beating out of her chest as
she felt around the wall for the fuse box.
“How? How could… you let me… die?” said a female voice through tears and sniffles.
“You’re trying to scare me… your tricks won’t work on ME, demon!” Renfield growled.
“YOU TOLD ME YOU WOULD PROTECT ME!! HOW COULD YOU LET ME DIE?” a voice similar to Ryan’s screamed.
“HOW DARE YOU!” Renfield roared with the fury of a demon, but then he sounded like he was gasping. “Let.. Let… go… … of…”
“Did you really think you could hide from me?” a mix of the baritone, female, and Renfield-sounding voice hissed, the sounds of a body being slammed against Renfield’s bed followed.
Through the brief flashes of light, over her shoulder, Williams saw the shadow picking up Renfield, claws around his throat.
“Did you really think you could hide from me in a madhouse?” the mixed voice chuckled. “Pathetic. Just like your friends.” There was another crashing sound, this time, closer to Williams. Williams turned back to the, fidgeting to open the breaker box.
“You weren’t the first to try to hunt me. And I certainly hope you aren’t the last.”
Renfield grunted, followed by the shattering of glass and clang of so metal. Williams finally opened the breaker, and her hand shaking, began to feel around for the switch with a piece of tape, trying her hardest to ignore the sounds of crashing, and the cries of pain from Renfield.
Renfield let out a scream as he was slammed down once again. “Any last words?”
“D…d…d…”
“What was that? Come again?”
There was a hard “squish” sound and the creature screamed in pain. “Go back to the depths of the darkness from which you came!” Renfield shouted.
“AAUghh! I’ll see you there, RYAN RENFIELD! No matter how far you RUN, no matter how DEEP you BURY yourself, you will NEVER ESCAPE ME! YOU WILL JOIN ME IN-”
Williams finally felt where the taped switch was, and flipped it. As the lights turned on, there was another unearthly shriek, as the shadows retreated from the light.
Williams turned around to see the room was in disarray. A violent struggle had occurred, leaving a crime scene straight out of a horror film. There was a large dent at the foot of the bed in the shape of a man. Syringes, medicines, cups, utensils, glass, parts of broken lanterns, notebooks and shredded cabinet doors were scattered across the floor.
On the ground by the foot of bed, Ryan was panting, holding his side, trying to pull himself up from a small puddle of blood, Ryan’s pocket knife at the edge of the pool.
So… much… blood. His.. or… the shadow… thing? But just as she thought that, she saw the blood start to slowly bubble. As each red bubble burst, the blood turned into a black tar-like substance. And along the floor, there were bloody footprints. Except, with every four steps, the barefoot changed size, switching between a man’s foot, a woman’s foot, and another two sets of feet, the left always slightly smaller than the right. Then, looking at the edge of the pool again, Williams noticed four gnashes in the floor among the debris.
Williams wanted to ask what had just happened, but she only found herself capable of gasping for bigger and bigger breaths. Ryan on the other hand, with his nostrils flaring, glared at the bubbling blood with a mix of disgust and resolve.
The two sat there until the last of the tar substance evaporated, turning into a thick, opaque smoke that seemed to scream as it vanished into oblivion, leaving only the doctor and her patient.
“I told you to leave the lights on.”
