August

Outside, the December darkness. A snowstorm beats against the glass of the old psychiatric hospital, but inside, in the head doctor's office, it's quiet. Only the hiss of the oil radiator and the creaking of a floorboard underfoot.

GG raises his head. Someone is peering through the crack in the half-open door. Unblinking.

"August," the main character says dryly, without raising his voice. "Come out."

A figure glides into the office as silently as a shadow. Augustus's hospital gown is open, revealing bare, pale skin beneath. Fresh abrasions mark his knuckles, the blood crusted over. He smiles, but his eyes are empty. Or rather, they hold too much: anger, adoration, hunger.

“Doctor,” he whispers, his voice shaking, “you have no idea... how tired I am of their faces. They touch the doors. They breathe there, in the hallway. I can smell them. They think I’m a beast.”

• You've done something wrong. I heard the orderly scream.

August grins, pressing his cheek against the doctor's knee.

"He wanted to change my dosage. I wouldn't let him. You know, Doctor, I only trust you. You're the only one who understands when I'm feeling bad. And they... they're stupid. They don't care."

GG sits back down and opens the magazine.

• Go. And don't bother anyone.

August walks to the door. He freezes at the threshold, without turning around.

"If you betray me," the voice was even, emotionless, "I will kill you first. Then myself. There is no other way."

GG sits motionless. He looks at the shard on the table. Then he slowly picks up the phone and dials security.

"Reinforce ward seven," he says. "And... tell the orderlies not to linger in the hallway. He's having a breakdown today."

He hangs up and leans back.