6. Hospital of Dreams

(Ballad) *

Prologue

There is a quiet in the mind

Beyond the realm of dreams,

A hidden place that few can find

That cancels out the screams

Of children trapped within the clutch

Of nightmares manifold,

Dulling out their sense of touch,

Until they are controlled.

These mindless children at the mercy

Of analyzing brains,

They form a timeless controversy

Over their dead remains.

—Alistair

Part 1

So say's the Grecian patron saint

Of all forsaken children;

And yet, the story that I spin

Comes out of that deep cauldron

Where death (and never life) begets

The slumbers of the grave,

Spinning new nightmares from the darkness,

Which makes the sane to rave.

It was a hospital of dreams,

A psychiatric ward

That housed the inmates' bedlam woes,

Wasting away, ignored.

It now stands as a testament

To inhumanity

To fellow human sufferers,

Each brick of masonry

A concrete witness to the crimes

Committed for the science

Of saving lives, which are but lies

Stuffed down their throats of silence!

Yet in my time, there used to be

A special section where

Children like me would spend their days

And nights in constant fear,

For we were children left behind,

Abandoned to our fates,

No mother's love to soothe our bonds

That tie us down like inmates.

Our days were spent beneath the scalpels

Of cruel experimenters;

Our nights were spent in darkened silence,

Dreaming of our tormentors

That caper past the edge of sight

As demons in disguise,

Filling our dreams with constant dread

Of their inhuman eyes;

And as the eldest of these children,

Verging on my fifteenth year,

The burdens of their agony

Rest on my shoulders bare.

On such a night, after my trial

Was carried out on me,

I'm led into the passageway

Beyond the agony

Of fellow inmates looking out

From padded cells at me;

I'm tired, can barely walk or keep

My balance, even see;

I'm but a little walking corpse

Treading on weary feet,

Treading my way towards confinement

In padded walls of concrete.

I'm led towards a padded door,

Through which I pass myself in

A padded soundless cell of peace

To ease my mental strife in.

The padded door now closes with

A sudden muffled bang,

Encasing me inside my coffin,

Locked with a muffled clang.

I lie myself upon the pads

Beneath the dimming light

Above my head, then close my eyes

And dream of dreams tonight.

Interlude 1

There is a darkness to the light,

Staining the soul in shadows,

Where childhood innocence and might

Encounter in deep hollows

The greatest fear amid all fears,

Beating within all hearts;

And in the tracks of running tears,

Tinged in their clearest parts,

Is found the tainting influence

Of thoughtful devilry,

Accompanied by th' effluence

Of hateful blasphemy.

—Alistair

Part 2

So say's the Grecian patron saint

Of tainted innocence;

And now the world of shattered dreams

Drives on my penitence.

Into the footless depths of darkness,

I find myself outside the

Old palace of the Borderlands,

A palace by the sea

Where djinn are said to live and dine *

Upon the sacrificial days;

An after-haze of smokeless fire

Still lingers in the byways

Beyond the mirthless gates and walls

That still surround the place.

It is a world abandoned by

An old ethereal race

Of men that came before the current

Days of our present day;

Such were those days of sacrifice,

I feel it all the way

Down to the marrow of my bones,

Wherein all fear resides—

Down to the depths of human instinct

Where this fearful patient hides—

Down to the handle of my blade

Where the slash of death provides

Me with the courage on my quest

To slay tormentors as my test,

Whereon their blood decides

The fate of all my bedlam mates,

Adults and children both.

So armed with vorpal blade in hand, **

Ere trekking through this Borderland,

I take upon my oath:

"Great Alistair, please guide my blade

Into the hearts of monsters,

Those heartless demons with their scalpels,

Those human-faced impostors!"

And so I trek into the gates

To execute my justice;

I'll show those monsters what it means

To double-cross our trust is!

The inner palace walls lie still

To crumble into dust;

The leafless garden trees lie mute

Against the seaside thrust

Of wind upon the distant banks

That whisper of souls lost;

Only the distant breaking waves

Echo on the rocky crust

That forms the beach adjacent to

The palace of the djinn.

I surge ahead along the path

Towards the entrance in

The expectation of attack

Inside this wooded garden

Before I gain the entrance door;

Perhaps a hidden guard in

One of the hiding places of

This garden of the dead

Is scouting me within the tress,

Filling my thoughts with dread.

And yet I keep my courage true

Beneath the gibbous moonlight,

Advancing with the fate of death

Upon my blade of starlight,

And as I reach the steps upon

The threshold of the door,

A score of djinn emerge out of

A haze of smokeless vapor;

I grip my blade in both my hands

And take a ready stance,

Preparing on attacking them

Before they have a chance!

I lunge and flail my blade about

To cut them down to size,

And yet I only slice the air

To my disbelieving eyes;

So now they circle 'round about me,

Fearless of my attacks,

And ere I take another swipe,

They bid me to relax.

I stay my blade but keep my guard

In silence; so they say,

"What is the meaning of your presence?

What brings your feet this way?"

And on their words of inquiry,

A darkness overflows

My spirit in a spreading pool

Of bloody vitriol on those

Who torture all my fellow inmates,

Experimenting on them;

I say, "I'm here to seek revenge

On doctors, all of them,

Who drug my fellow inmates with

The side effect of phlegm!" ***

"A pact with us will get it done,

If only for a price,"

They say, and in my heart I know

That 'price' means sacrifice.

"What price of sacrifice must I

Do, if must I accept?"

I say in my defense; they say,

"A sacrifice we've kept

In blood within our dining halls

Is all we'll intercept.

"The blood of anyone will do,

As long as it is human;

But we do favor blood from those

Who have a high acumen

For the sciences of life and death

And everything inhuman."

And so I smile a wicked smile

That stretches out my lips,

Because th' asylum's full of those

Who love to torture (heaven knows!)

Patients with their scalpel tips.

"I'll gladly shed the blood of those

Who torture day and night,

Sating their twisted torture-binge!"

I say, impassioned with revenge.

"I'll kill them all tonight!"

So in consenting to their whims,

I drift into the darkness,

Returning softly to my bed,

Revengeful, even heartless.

Interlude 2

Into the depths of utter darkness

Exists a touch of virtue;

Although the world may seem so heartless,

It need not ever hurt you.

If you can redefine your station

And your state of self therein,

You'll find yourself without frustration

Over the Hell within,

Because the mind's a battlefield:

It takes as well as gives.

Be not afraid, nor hide, nor yield

To the world's bloody knives.

—Alistair

Part 3

So say's the Grecian patron saint

Upon this monster-slayer;

And so I take upon myself

This bladed cross of prayer,

And with the backing of the djinn,

I wake my soul to action,

Projecting out my soul from body

In sharp but brief extraction,

Leaving my mortal body there

Within the cell unmoving,

From which I see the silver chord

Body and soul still linking.

I turn my sights towards the wrongs

That beckons to be righted,

And with my vorpal blade in hand,

I stalk out so excited

That I now feel myself to smile

At future retributions,

Those callous doctors unaware

Of their own executions!

To help me in this vengeful venture,

The djinn lock all the doors

That lead to exits to outside,

Trapping the staff indoors.

I stalk along the corridors

And look through every door,

Looking about for my tormentors

On each and every floor.

The first I spot's an orderly

Of elderly appearance;

At first I think of killing her

For her role's adherence

To carry out the doctors' orders,

But then her disappearance

Would cause the guards to call in backup,

Endangering my plan,

Even when no one can see me

With the help of djinn who can

Conceal my presence from this earth;

Ah well, this aging crone's not worth

The risking of the program.

But just as I'm about to pass

Her by without her killed,

I whirl around with blade in hand,

Slicing open her thyroid gland

From which blood sprayed and spilled,

Staining the walls and floor with gore.

I know the actions that

I take are kind of twisted, yes;

Then again, you know what?

Within this awesome killing spree,

I do not give a damn!

And so I go through corridors,

Continuing the program

Of splaying guts onto the floors

And decorating walls

With the flying sprays of blood

Within this maze of halls.

I slash and cut through orderlies

And massacre the guards,

Filling this asylum with their screams,

Making nightmares out of their worst dreams,

Gutting this house of cards.

With orderlies and guards now dead,

The surge of vengeance grows,

Because those evil doctors are

The ones that do not have a prayer—

The ones I will impose

My harshest retributions on

Their unrepentant souls;

So help me God, so help me djinn,

I'll send them to the ghouls!

And so I stalk the whole asylum

In search of only doctors,

But in my search I cannot find

Any of those damn monsters!

Then presently I ask the djinn

Where all those doctors are,

And in return they said to me,

"Most of them are very far

"Away within their homes tonight,

Except for three nearby

Hiding inside their office rooms;

We'll kill the ones within their homes,

While you kill those close by."

And so I stalk the corridors

And search in every room,

Itching to use my vorpal blade

To bring about their doom.

The first I come across is but

A youth in doctor's clothes,

Checking each patient's data folder,

Perhaps an intern to an older

Doctor with more skill (who knows).

But young or old, I do not care;

I want to make a kill

Upon the first of this trifecta,

Commencing this revenge-perfecta

To get my glory's fill.

And so I sneak in through the door

While he has his back turned,

Re-shelving all the folders on

The back shelf, unconcerned

With anybody lurking through

The shadows with a mind

For murder on my vorpal blade,

Stalking closer behind.

And so I creep on tiptoed feet,

As silent as a phantom,

Raising my blade up in the air,

Invisible and bantam ****

Within my phantom cloak the djinn

Enrobed me in tonight,

Biding my time to see him flinch

And turn around in fright!

Flinching he begins to turn around,

And now I plunge the blade

Right through his fleshy clavicle,

From which the blood now sprayed

With screams accompanied with groans,

Dropping him with his arms splayed!

A spreading pool of blood collects

Upon the office floor,

Filling the air with an iron taste

As I stalk out the door.

And so I stalk the corridors

And search in every room,

Itching to use my vorpal blade

To bring about more doom.

The second one is middle-aged

And practiced with a scalpel,

Now armed with many scalpels in

His pockets—hands as well.

But he's no match for someone he

Can't see or even touch;

Nothing he does will make much difference

With my blade inside my clutch.

And so I tip-toe forward now

So phantom-like, unseen,

That I become way too excited—

So much so it's obscene!

I cackle, and the echo sounds

Within the silent hall,

Scaring the man to turn his head

And nearly take a fall.

But as he rallies from his fears,

He says in bitter words,

"You think you'll get away with this,

Treating us all like herds?

You animals deserve to die

And jelly up like curds!"

Enraged at him, I lash out twice

And splatter all his guts

Out of his stomach where he stands

In shock from painless cuts!

The blood and guts now splatter on

The floor in his surprise,

And now he falls upon his knees

With tears upon his eyes,

Putting his guts back in his belly

As he slowly—slowly—dies . . .

He fades away in murmuring

Some incoherent words;

The pool of blood, now spreading fast,

Coagulate like curds.

And with the guts now lying there

Bringing up such a stink,

I say some words upon the air,

"I'm faster than you think."

And so I stalk the corridors

And search in every room,

Itching to use my vorpal blade

To bring a final doom.

The very last I need to kill

Takes quite some time to look for,

As though the doctor knew his time

Was shorter on the first floor.

And so I stalked through all the rooms

Inside the first floor where

I found him on his knees now mourning

The young assistant killed there,

The youngest doctor I dispatched

Before this final nightmare.

I walk to him still crying there

To end his suffering,

Because it enters in my brain

That I took everything

That matters to him more than life—

His son, the young assistant,

I killed for his remote connection

With his own father's vile profession,

Now dead and nonexistent.

But as I walk to him, he looks

In my direction with

The eyes of someone who can see

The ghostly kin and kith.

He says with tears within his eyes,

"You took my son away!

He had no part in all of this!"

And so I pause and say,

"May God have mercy on your soul,

Because I never will."

And then I slash across his throat,

Making my final kill.

So with that final killing stroke,

My curse is rectified

Upon the blood of bleeding monsters

Who by my blade have died.

And so I walk back to my cell

Wherein I'm slumbering,

Glancing upon my fellow inmates

I freed from everything

That terrified with demon eyes

And fooled us with a thousand lies—

I did the proper thing!

And so I enter in my cell

And lay within my body

To slumber off the sleep of death,

For death I now embody.

Epilogue

Become the knife of vengeance laid

Upon the sinner's soul,

Because true justice needs a blade

That steals back what he stole.

For through the blood of sacrifice

That purifies the spirit,

It balances the fatal price

Of those who try to shear it.

For you're the shadow of each dream

That brings on sudden death!

You are the one that makes them scream

Upon their dying breath!

—Alistair

FINISH