Greenlawn Mental Institution
by Lisa McCourt Hollar
Dr. Roman Knight walked the darkened halls of Greenlawn Mental Institution, his heels moving soundlessly down the tiled halls. The patient he would be visiting would never know he was on his way, although she knew he would be seeking her company. He had ordered her bathed an hour ago. It had only been a few days since he had last tasted her on his tongue, but his appetite had not been sated.
When he unlocked her cell, she wasn't waiting for him on her bed, as he had hoped. Instead, she was huddled in the corner, looking as though she were trying to melt into the shadows. Shaking his head, Roman strode across the floor and pulled her up, yanking her into a standing position by pulling on the back of her neck.
"How dare you sully yourself by sitting in the filth. I had your sheets changed today for a reason. I want you clean, when my mouth touches you."
"Please," she begged, "it is too soon."
"Then you should have done a better job pleasing me and maybe I wouldn't need you again so soon."
It was a lie. She had become his favorite and he intended to visit her as often as he deemed fit. Pulling her to him, Roman ripped the front of her smock open, revealing her breasts. They weren't large, but they were real and it was what they contained beneath the skin that he longed for.
Cupping one of them in his hand, he squeezed it, deriving pleasure from the pained groan that came from her throat.
"Tell me you want me." It was a game to him. He knew she wouldn't say it, not until he caused her more pain. She also knew it was about the pain he inflicted, as well as the satisfaction he would get when he took her, although not in the way she had expected his first time with her.
She was so beautiful the day she was brought to him. She had killed her husband and children, so society wouldn't care what happened to her. She had been deemed insane by a jury of her peers and sent to Greenlawn, where she would be forgotten about. This suited Dr. Knight. He had smelled her the moment she walked through his door, shackles on her feet and arms. He had gone to her that night.
"Please," she begged again, but Roman didn't listen. He pushed her down on the bed and climbed on top of her, forcing her legs apart. It was after he had forced himself into her, thrusting hard and causing her to scream, that he bit into her breast, opening her with his sharpened canines.
Roman had been five when he was diagnosed with porphyria, a medical condition that caused his skin to burn in the sunlight. When a few years later, his mother had caught him drinking blood from their cat, she had taken him back to the doctor. He had assured her that a craving for blood was not one of the symptoms of porphyria.
A series of tests revealed that he also suffered from Celiac disease. It was rare for someone to suffer from two different diseases that resembled vampirism, but it wasn't unheard of. The doctor suggested that perhaps the latter was psychosomatic and Roman was sent to councelling. This turned out to be his salvation, nurturing a love for psychiatry. To his mother, he appeared to be improving and the neighborhood wildlife ceased to diappear.
In reality, Roman had learned to hide his desire for blood, hunting away from his neighborhood. As he grew into a young adult, he noticed a sweet smell among certain people. It wasn't until he paid for the services of one prostitute, that he realized that it was blood. He had never drank anything, but animals, but as he came inside the whore, he did something he had never done before. He bit into her neck, ripping it open and drinking the wonderful nectar that would become his addiction.
Greenlawn Mental Institution was a godsend. Not only could he spend his days in the dark, but he had an unlimited supply of blood. No one cared what happened to his patients. No one ever came by to check on their welfare and if they did, who would believe the ravings of the insane.
"Dr. Knight has been feeding on my blood."
"Oh did he dear? Here is a shot to calm you down."
A few months after being appointed head doctor at the institute, Roman visited a dentist. He'd asked him to file his teeth into fangs. The doctor hadn't even batted an eye. It had become a common request, what with the rise in popularity of movies like Twilight and television shows that romanticized vampires. Of course he had come back later to thank the good dentist and by the way, kill him. His blood hadn't been as good as the woman he now terrorized, but it had filled him. He'd also made sure to take his records. It wouldn't do for anyone to find out about his dental work and begin to wonder if any of his patients rantings were true.
Finished with the woman, he climbed off of her, zipping up his pants and wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. The patient cried quietly on the bed. No one in the Institute would notice, nor would they care if they did. He had made sure all the employees would be immune to sympathy, hiring those who held a similar desire to inflict pain. Leaving the room, he nodded to the nurse that would take her turn with the patient. It wasn't blood she desired, but something else. Roman was halfway down the hall when the screaming began. The nurse had begun, dragging the sceams out in long, torturous assaults. Roman didn't care, as long as the patient was kept alive. Her blood was AB negative, his favorite.
Word Count: 1,000