The Dark Horde (17 page)

Alex backhanded the canister Bill held. “Piss off, Bill.”

Bill turned to his audience. “Okie dokes, it seems that Alex Norton doesn’t wish to speak on camera. Apparently the humiliation of losing 21 – 3 is just too much for the big man, haha! Anyhow, stiff shit, we’ll now cross to the winner.”

Alex shook his head and headed into the pantry. Others laughed. Ben and Scuza took up places at the table tennis table.

Bill rushed to Bruce. “And here he is, the champ himself! Never mind the screaming hordes of chicks wanting you to sign their tits, Bruce, whadaya have to say for the fans watching at home?”

“That’s my deodorant,” Bruce said as he snatched Bill’s prop from him.

Bill laughed and patted Bruce on the shoulder as he walked away. The crowd dispersed. Ben and Scuza began playing.

Danny was broken from his doodling when the ping-pong ball smacked into his neck, leaving a bright red mark. He jolted with fright.

“GOT ‘IM!” Ben shouted, laughing with Scuza.

Danny stared at his desk, fidgeting with trembling hands.

“DANNY!” Scuza screamed. “PICK THE BALL UP!”

Danny tensed, hesitating to respond.

“I SAID PICK THE FUCKING BALL UP, GEEK!”

“Yeah, pick it up, geek!” Ben chimed in. “You touched it last!” Scuza and Ben laughed together.

Danny reached down to pick up the ball near his foot. Without raising his head, he tossed it to Scuza.

“Next time do it when I tell you, geek!” Scuza turned back to Ben and they both laughed again.

Suddenly, Mr Neilson strode into the room, ending the laughter. He ignored Scuza and Ben as he walked over to where Danny sat.

“Danny. Dr Russell is here to see you. He’s waiting at the San now and expects to be with you for an hour or more. Which teacher is your next class meant to be with?”

Danny glanced up at Mr Neilson. “Um... Mrs Connelly,” he droned.

“Right. I’ll let her know then. You best get going.”

Danny slowly began to pack up his desk.

“Hurry up now, Danny. You don’t want to keep him waiting.”

As abruptly as he arrived, Mr Neilson left.

Danny finished arranging his things and rose to leave.

Scuza grabbed his arm and leered into his face. “You say anything to anyone about the Unit and you’re dead, geek.”

A dark cloud began to descend.

TUESDAY 10:48
AM

Dr Bernard Russell sat at a desk in Matron Susan Inglis’ office re-reading his notes whilst he waited for Danny’s arrival, sipping a cup of Earl Grey tea. Outside was still, classes had resumed. A chill wind wailed under grey swollen skies.

The normal protocol of investigation, including medical analysis and consultation with the boy’s parents, had failed to identify the source of Danny’s malady. A change in tactics was required.

Bernard looked up to see Danny sitting across from him.

“Oh, you’re here!”

“Yes, Bernard. I am.”

Bernard smiled and reached for the tape recorder on the desk to switch it on. Danny’s eyes met his with a steady gaze, his hands resting in his lap. The wind moaned at the window.

“So how are you feeling today, Danny?”

“Fine.” He smiled.

Bernard took a deep breath. “That’s good,” he said nodding slowly.

Mental note: Subject displays the same initial behaviour as on the previous occasion. Unorthodox methodology is warranted in order to delve below surface psychological symptoms.

“How are you finding it being back at school?”

“Fine.”

“Mr Neilson tells me that the boys in your Unit have been bullying you... Would you like to discuss that?”

Danny shrugged. “There’s nothing worth discussing about it. It’s just a bit of teasing, that’s all. It’s nothing I’m singled out for, we all tease each other.”

“That’s not the impression that Mr Neilson gave me.”

“You’ll reach your own conclusions, Bernard, but I suggest your most reliable source is the horse’s mouth... I.e. me.”

Mental note: Subject seems resistant to prying and is dismissive of there being anything wrong. Remains unperturbed by the seriousness of past events. Possibly indicative of Bipolar Mood Disorder, Paranoid or Schizoid Personality, or even Multiple Personality Disorder. Time to execute Plan B.

“Danny. I’m going to suggest trying something different. It’s a special technique often used to increase awareness of one’s own mental processes and enable greater control over them. It’s a state of self-awareness where you’ll cease to be aware of what’s going on around you, a bit like being so absorbed in a book or a movie that you don’t hear your name called.”

“In other words, you want to hypnotise me.”

Retain composure. Do not feed hostility or negativity. The subject’s trust is imperative to the therapy achieving its objective.

“I’m not going to do anything that will harm or endanger you in any way, Danny. At all times you will be in control, like a dream which takes the course you choose, ends whenever you choose and where you will be safe at all times. It’s quite fun really.”

“You put such a good spin on it, Doctor.”

Bernard laughed awkwardly. “Have you ever had a wondrous dream that you wished would never end, where something profound about yourself or the world was revealed to you, and yet once you awoke you could no longer remember it?”

Danny yawned. “It really doesn’t matter what I say, does it? You’re determined to sell me this idea of yours. So come on, finish your spiel.”

Bernard leaned forward. “Danny. I can’t do this alone. I need your help and trust, otherwise it won’t work. We’re both trying to achieve the same thing.”

Danny folded his arms and cocked his head. “And just what would
that
be?”

“Understanding... And with understanding comes control.”

“If only you knew.”

Well soon, Danny, I will.

“Your subconscious mind has the power to reveal things that otherwise would remain hidden. And it is empowered to protect you at all times, even in dreams. I want to teach you how to harness this power, how to explore things about yourself with your subconscious mind, and how to solve any problems that you may have. This experience will belong to you, Danny, and it will be something that you can use in any way you decide.”

Danny grinned. “You obviously don’t subscribe to the notion that it’s better to let sleeping dragons lie.”

“No harm is going to come to you, Danny. You have to trust me and let go all resistance. Do I have your cooperation? Will you let me help you?”

Danny smiled into his eyes. “No, I don’t trust you and frankly I don’t even like you. But I can see you won’t be dissuaded from your folly, so let’s get this over with.”

This better work, dealing with this obnoxious kid, was becoming a nightmare. At least he’ll be easier to manage under hypnosis. Assuming, he even submits to hypnosis.

“Okay now, I’m going to stay right here and talk you through the steps you need to take to reach your subconscious. All you need to do is close your eyes and follow my instructions. When I’m finished, I will say ‘Open your eyes’ and you will be back in the present. Do you understand?”

“Ohhh, I do.” Danny smirked.

“Okay then, let’s begin...”

Danny now sat in a deep trance before Bernard. His breathing deep and regular, his body relaxed. Bernard rolled up his sleeves.

“Picture yourself, Danny, entering an elevator at the top of a very tall building and pushing the down button. As the elevator descends floor by floor, you go deeper and deeper into trance and relaxation. I do not know nor does your conscious mind know, just how far down you need to go, but your subconscious mind does. When your subconscious mind knows that we have reached the right depth, I want you to push the button to stop the elevator and open the doors.”

After a pause, Danny jolted. “Wh-Where am I?”

Already his manner and mode of speech had changed dramatically. Interesting...

“You should now be able to see down a hallway leading to a clean and spacious lounge. Can you see that?”

“Um. Yeah I can but–”

“I want you to walk down the hallway to the lounge. In there, you’ll see a nice, comfortable couch.”

“There’s something else down here as well!”

Bernard frowned. “What do you mean, Danny? Do you mean there’s someone else down there?”

“Yes! There’s a few of them!”

“No, Danny. There’s no one else down there at all. I want you to visualise that you are safe and alone and that your subconscious is not going to create anything that could possibly scare you.”

“They’re laughing at me! But I ran down the hall into the lounge and closed the door.”

“Okay, maybe there’s a lock on the door that you can use to ensure that you have peace and quiet.”

“Yes there is. It’s a safe room.”

Roll with it – what’s important is that Danny is in the lounge now and the metaphor can proceed.

“Okay, now on the wall to your left or right is a chalkboard.”

“Yes, there is... And it’s got something written on it!”

“Well, at the bottom of the board is a tray with chalk and a duster. I want you to take the duster and–”

“It says: Bernard, please help me. I am trapped in endless darkness.” Danny’s breathing became frantic.

I’m not sure how long I should let this continue. Obviously the subject has significant trauma buried in his subconscious. Perhaps I shouldn’t have allowed him to go so deep.

“Danny, I want you to erase the writing on the blackboard and imagine it clearing your mind as you work. I want you to visualise that you are safe and free from intrusions or distractions.”

“But it has a name under it!”

Curious. Could this be another personality, subliminal in Danny? Perhaps this was the personality that needed ‘help’.

“What is the name, Danny?”

“Um, it says... Henry Wilcox.”

Henry Wilcox? That’s not possible, is it? Henry Wilcox was a schizophrenic client of his about ten years ago, who was roughly the same age then, as Danny was now. Random coincidence? Or did Danny and Henry somehow know each other?

Let’s try making contact with this Henry, but let’s also be careful not to jump to conclusions.

“The chalk at the bottom of the board is very special, Danny. We can ask it questions and it will write the answer for us on the blackboard. I want you to clear the board with the duster and ask the chalk where we can find Henry.”

“Okay,” said Danny.

There was a pause and then Danny began to whimper.

“What’s wrong, Danny? Tell me.”

“The chalk only wrote one word... Hell!”

Enough was enough. Time to bring Danny out of there.

“Alright, Danny. I think it’s time we went somewhere else. We’ll come back here later when you’re feeling more comfortable.”

“But the demons are outside! I can hear them scratching at the door, trying to get in!”

Demons? My suspicions were right. The psychosis had remained all along.

Outside, the wind gained intensity: a forlorn howl.

“There’s another door behind you, Danny, that you can take. It will take you down a
safe
corridor back to the elevator and away from anything that your mind can create to try and scare you.”

“But there isn’t another door!”

“Then you need to look harder. Visualise the door in front of you and see that you can open it.”

Danny screamed. “The demons are breaking through!”

We’ll take the quick way out then.

“I want you to fly through the walls, Danny, as if they weren’t there. Fly up and back to where you started. The closer you get, the more awake you’ll become. When you reach where you started–”

Tears streamed. “But I can’t fly! Ohhh they’re horrible! Like big werewolves with red slits for eyes!”

Henry Wilcox used to talk about the same thing. Suggestion perhaps? Definitely something to be investigated later. Now it was time to employ some suggestion of my own.

“Danny, I want you to repeat after me: The demons can’t hurt me. They’re not real. They’re all in my mind.”

Unresponsive, Danny’s wailing coincided with the rising wind.

“Danny, listen! Repeat the words: The demons can’t hurt me. They’re not real. They’re all in my mind.”

Danny fell silent.

Then his eyes opened, fiery and glazed.

A voice unlike Danny’s rasped,
“Ohhh Bernard... We are real.”

Bernard rushed round the desk to Danny and gripped him by his shoulders. “The demons can’t hurt me! They’re not real! They’re all in my mind!”

Again, Danny rasped,
“We come for you too, Bernard. And there’s nothing your psychobabble can do to save you. Hahaha!”

The phone began to ring, fighting to be heard over the wind.

“That’s for you.”
Danny smiled.

I thought I told them that the session was not to be interrupted under any circumstances. Especially now of all times.

Bernard turned away to answer the phone.

“Hello?”

A demonic voice taunted,
“The Devil sings. Leviathan stirs. Armageddon awaits.”

The line went dead.