Patient 3
I don’t know who took my girl, but I will eviscerate them with my bare hands when I find them.
I've never had anyone in my corner. A lifetime inside The Morgue didn’t give me many options for allies.
I've spent my whole life inside those decrepit walls. Honestly, the first set of masks weren’t that bad. At least, that's how my young mind perceived it. There have been multiple sets of masks through the years.
Patient 3
Age 6
I can’t stop laughing at the tickle bomb Skull is teasing me with. We had fun running through the halls playing chase.
He's one of four masked men that have raised me. There is the skull, a demon, something scary with horns, and a jester. They're not my dads, but I still call them all ‘Sir’ out of respect.
Demon comes into my room. It's one of the only rooms in here without bars. I still get locked in, but it’s not as bad as the other ones.
“How about a special shooting lesson today? I didn’t forget my promise,” Demon says.
I bounce up off the bed, excitement making me grin. “Really?”
“Of course, Little Man. You've earned it by being such a good boy.”
He takes my hand, and I practically skip out the door with him, Skull trailing behind. We head across the area we live in, over to a hidden door that leads upstairs. I've never been up there.
My eyes are wide as we walk through the hall. There’s a gym, a game area, and the last door opens to a shooting range. We walk in; no one else in there.
Demon comes up beside me with a pair of headphones, placing them over my ears.
“Listen to all my instructions, okay?”
I nod, getting serious. He points to the target, then hands me a small handgun. It's a little heavy, but I’m a big boy. I can handle it.
“Alright, the trigger is here, and the safety switch is here,” Demon explains. “That is where you load a new clip of bullets.” He points to the bottom of the gun. “All you need to do is aim and shoot.”
I smile wide, ready to go.
“Hang on now, Little Man. You need to stand like this, feet apart. Hold your shooting arm with your other hand, like this…” Demon shows me. I copy his stance. “Look down the barrel and focus on the bullseye on the target. When you’re ready, take a deep breath, click off the safety, and shoot.”
I follow his instructions, clicking off the safety. I scrunch up my face, staring at the bullseye. Breathing out, I pull the trigger.
Bang!
I fall back a few steps, the noise and impact from the gun surprising me.
Skull laughs, shaking his head. “You’ll get used to it, kid. It takes practice.”
“Thank you, Sirs, for teaching me,” I tell them both.
Those are the only pleasant memories I hold. Those masks were replaced only a year after that, when I was seven. The next set of masks were horribly cruel. They were there until I was fourteen.
Patient 3
Age 7
“You little shit. How dare you be so insolent? You are not special.” The new Horns spits in my face.
I shrink back in fear.
