Chapter Nineteen

Raven

In the motel room, the silence suffocates me. The clock ticks slowly, the minute hand dragging like it knows how much time I’m wasting, pacing in restless circles. My hands shake violently, my thoughts a tangled mess of panic and fear. Where is he? Where the hell did Ty go? His words echo in my head, the way he sounded—something was off. The door was left unlocked, he left it unlocked. Why would he do that? He never gives me the option to go. He never wants me to leave him.

Every nerve in my body screams at me, urging me to act, but I can’t. I’m stuck, trapped in this fucking panic. I thought I could breathe, that it was just my mind working against me, but no... My heart sinks lower with every passing second.

Suddenly, a sharp knock at the door pulls me out of my spiraling thoughts. My pulse spikes. Without even thinking, I rush toward it and when I swing it open, my heart plummets to the pit of my stomach.

“Well, hello, Ms. Tate.”

My eyes widen. Dr Moss. Why is he here? What the fuck is he doing here? My entire body goes still as my mind scrambles to process what’s happening.

I shake my head once, unable to form a single word. Two men, dressed in stark white coats, stand behind him like shadows, their eyes cold and empty.

“It’s good to see you too!” he chirps, his voice far too chipper, like nothing is wrong before he steps inside, forcing me to take one back.

“Is Ty here?” Dr Moss asks, his eyes sweeping over the cramped motel room.

I feel the heaviness of his gaze and instinctively wrap my arms around myself. Something’s wrong. Why is he here? The walls seem to close in as my heart races as I try to control the panic that’s threatening to rise.

“Why… Why are you here?” I ask as I tuck my hair behind my ear, trying to force some composure into my shaking hands.

He stops, his smile widening unnervingly, a grin that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I think you need some help, Raven.”

My brows crease with confusion. “Help?” I repeat, almost as if saying it out loud will make sense of the situation, but it doesn’t.

He takes a step forward, and I take one back.

“Yes, help,” he says, a little too eagerly.

Before I can process what’s happening, the two men in white coats move, their hands shooting out to grab me. Panic surges through me, and I thrash in their hold, desperately trying to break free.

“Let go of me!” I scream, my voice hoarse with terror and anger.

“Take her to Sacred Heights Asylum,” Dr Moss orders steadily.

My eyes snap to his, wide with disbelief. I can feel my stomach churn as his words sink in.

“What the fuck are you talking about? I don’t work for you anymore… I…” My voice cracks, desperate for an answer, but I can already feel it—that creeping dread swarming through my veins.

“Oh, not as a worker.” He responds with the same eerie calm, his smile now curling into something darker. “As a patient.”

His words hit me like a slap, and my blood runs cold. My body goes rigid, every instinct screaming at me to fight, to run, but before I can do anything, I feel a sharp, searing pain in my neck. My hand shoots up instinctively, but the damage is already done. Something cold and foreign is pulled out of my skin, leaving behind a burning sensation that spreads through my veins like wildfire.

My vision starts to blur, the edges of the room warping into shadows, and I feel my legs give out beneath me. I try to scream, to say something, anything, but the words catch in my throat as my body betrays me.

“Raven Tate, needs to be cured,” Dr Moss says, his voice distant, muffled by the fog creeping into my mind.

And then, nothing.

The darkness consumes me.

…

Suddenly, my eyes snap open, and a sharp gasp escapes me as the brightness above sears through my blurry vision from above. I squeeze my eyes shut, desperate to block out the light, but it’s no use. The migraine in my head throbs and my heart hammers in my chest, panic rising with each second I can’t remember.

I try to move, to sit up, but I’m violently yanked back. Straps. Everywhere. My arms, my neck, my legs—all bound, tight, restricting. A scream tears from my throat, high-pitched, broken with desperation and terror.

I jerk against the restraints, my body trembling as tears stream from my eyes. The cold air bites against my exposed skin. Every inch of me is bare, and my eyes dart down, horrified, to confirm it. I’m completely fucking naked, every ounce of dignity stripped away in this sterile, alien place.

What the fuck.

I try to piece together my memories, but they feel shattered, as if they’ve been pulled apart and scattered. Dr Moss. The men in white. Sacred Heights. The needle. Oh God, what have they fucking done to me?

Fear claws up my throat, and my stomach churns with nausea. I try to scream again, but my voice breaks.

“Help... Help me,” I whisper, my eyes darting to the person to my right as my fingers strain to reach out.

I feel the coldness of the table beneath me, the sharp pressure of the restraints digging into my skin, and the air smells sterile, like chemicals and antiseptic. I’m somewhere in Sacred Heights.

The figures in white, their backs turned, are moving quietly around the room, preparing... something. I can’t see what the fuck it is, but I know it won’t be good. My eyes flicker across the room in desperation, scanning every corner. Shelves of bottles and jars line the walls, and I can make out tools—old, sharp things I’ve never seen before. Nothing in here looks like anything I know. Everything feels foreign. Foreign, and wrong. Like a fucking torture chamber.

The door creaks open by my feet, and my heart jumps into my throat. I glance down as Dr Moss enters, and he wears white scrubs while he pulls latex gloves over his hands. They snap tight as he finishes, the sound of them sharp, clinical.

I want to shrink away, to cover myself, to hide under this fucking table or even claw my way through the walls if I have to, but I can’t move. I’m completely naked, completely exposed and vulnerable.

He stops at the foot of the table, and I force myself to stay still, clenching my teeth to keep from crying out. I can feel his eyes on me, assessing, judging, as if I’m nothing more than a specimen to be experimented on.

I squeeze my eyes shut and bite my lip so hard I almost taste blood, trying to push the panic down, trying to convince myself this isn’t happening. Wake up, Raven. Wake the fuck up.

But nothing changes. This is real.

“Ready to begin?” Dr Moss’s voice cuts through the silence and It’s almost like he’s speaking to himself more than to me.

I can’t respond. I can barely breathe. What does he fucking mean, ready to begin?

Dr Moss steps closer to the table, his hands moving carefully across the array of tools and equipment beside him. I feel my heart rate spike, every nerve in my body firing as my eyes dart toward the machine he’s preparing.

It’s old—too old.

Wires crisscross over the surface like veins, leading to thick, metal clamps that gleam under the harsh lights above. My throat constricts as I realize what this is. My stomach lurches, and a wave of nausea sweeps over me.

Electroshock therapy.

The very thought of it sends chills down my spine. I’ve heard about it, read about it—the horrors. The way it can scramble your mind, tear apart your memories, make you forget who you are.

“No,” I whisper shakily because it’s all I can manage.

Dr Moss doesn’t even look at me as he approaches the machine. His face remains as impassive as ever, focused solely on what he’s about to do to me. He adjusts the knobs, checking the settings, and the faint crackle of electricity makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

“Please... don’t do this,” I sob, tears pouring out of my eyes.

He glances up then, a brief flash of something like amusement crossing his face. It’s sickening. My body tenses as he steps forward, stopping right beside me, his gaze sweeping over my naked body.

“Don’t worry, Ms Tate,” he says with a sinister calm. “This will help you. You just need to accept it. You’ve been broken and you need fixing.”

I hyperventilate as he shifts behind me and I feel the restraints pulling tighter as he places the metal clamps against my temples, and a fresh wave of fear crashes over me.

The cold metal sinks into my skin, and I wince as the electricity hums in the air. My body reacts involuntarily, heart pounding in my chest as I try to pull away. But I can’t.

“Please... No, please...” I beg again, desperation lacing every word.

“Quiet now. I’m going to make you feel better. Pull all those horrid memories out of you.” Dr Moss whispers, the words deceptively gentle as he moves to the control panel. He flips a switch, and the machine comes to life with a throbbing hum.

I squeeze my eyes shut, bracing myself for the pain I know is coming. I can feel the power surging, building behind the machine, and my whole body instinctively goes rigid in anticipation. I can’t escape it. I can’t even move.

“Here we go,” he says softly, but the words send a cold chill through my bones.

And then, without any further warning, it hits me.

The shock crashes through my head like a thunderclap, and I gasp, my body shaking violently against the restraints. My heart skips a beat, the world circling, the shock burning through every nerve like fire, tearing through my thoughts, my awareness.

I scream, the pain is unbearable, like it’s ripping my very soul apart. The voltage hits again, a steady, persistent pulse that feels like it’s going to tear me apart. I try to inhale and exhale, but it’s impossible. The air feels thick, overpowering, and the pain just keeps approaching, one shock after another.

“Relax, Ms Tate. Let it go. You’ll be better after this. I promise.”

Each surge of electricity yanks at my very core, stealing more and more of my mind with every passing second. My body twitches, convulses, the pain is agonising, and I scream again, but my throat is raw, and I can’t escape it.

The world is starting to cloud, fading in and out, but every part of me is crying for it to stop. For me to wake up. For this nightmare to end.

But it doesn’t.

It just keeps going and going.