The Corn Snake Preteneds to be a Rattler for Intimidation Purposes Only

“Ok,” said the inspector as he stood in the hall way with the head nurse. “I agree, I don’t see any other way that this can be done.”

                “I’m glad you understand,” said the nurse as he looked knowingly at the man. “I feel like it would be too dangerous for us to attempt to move him without using a sedative.”

                “We are going to need to get permission from the judge in order to put him under again,” said the nurse. “You’ve already kept him here past his twenty-four hour holding period.” He gave the inspector gave him a stern look.

                “Well what were we supposed to do? The maniac was bleeding out in his cell,” exclaimed the man. He then threw his hands up to his forehead and grimaced, “Oh shit…”

                The nurse place his large hand on the investigator’s shoulder and asked, “Are you alright?”

                “Yeah,” he replied, shrugging off the nurse. “Just a hangover.”

                Last night had been a total disaster, not that he remembered much of it; just visions of the shrink sneering down at him, him toppling out of a chair, and throwing up on the carpet. He could remember a fight, but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember what it had been about. That worried him. He hated the idea that that creep may or may not have something over his head. He likes to pretend to be all innocent and clever, but he really is only a dirty little sneak. Sometimes the investigator wondered if the shrink was the monster that he should really be fighting.

                “I have something in my desk that might help you,” offered the nurse.

                “Nah, I’ll be fine,” muttered the inspector. “I’m going to go ahead and find that judge to get your approval. Let me know if anything important happens.”

                “Will do,” said the nurse. “Drink lots of water, you’re dehydrated and need lots of liquids.”

                The inspector just gave him a dark look before turning around and stalking down the hallway.

                “Why the hell couldn’t he have just text me this? Making me walk all the way over here and then back. Does nobody you the damn phone anymore?!” he muttered to himself. He wasn’t feeling very charitable today.

                “Hey!” called the nurse behind him.

                “God, what is it now?” he mumbled to himself. He turned back around and tried to put on the best polite smile he could muster. “Yes, sir!” he called down the hallway towards the advancing man.

                “I forgot to mention,” said the nurse. “The lunatic has got himself a lawyer.”

                The inspector searched his face for any sign that he may be kidding, “Are you serious?” he asked.

                “Yes sir, it was some fierce, little woman with a fancy suit and briefcase,” he said. “She looked like she meant business.”

                “Well, that’s not good,” said the inspector, almost to himself.

                “No sir,” agreed the nurse.

                “Where is she now?” the inspector shot a glance back towards the room where Mr. Brooks was being held.

                “Not here anymore,” the nurse said. “I over-heard them talking in there. I think she is going to go see that shrink.”

                “Oh shit,” swore the inspector and he took off down the hall way. He had to get there before she did. This was going to end so badly.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

                It seemed like she had been around the building at least twice, and there was no sign of the shrink’s office. She began to wonder if her client actually knew what he was talking about. He had been through a rough couple of days, on top of whatever psychological ailment that he obviously was suffering from. No. that’s not right. He wasn’t suffering, she suddenly realized. Besides the fact that he was in a prison hospital, he seemed just fine and dandy. Maybe that’s what was so unnerving about him; you knew he was sick, but not because he told you or showed it.

                She walked by the elevator for the third time, and sighed. She was getting nowhere. She looked down at her watch to see how long she had been pacing the halls, but then she realized that she didn’t know what time she had gotten up here. That’s not helpful. Maybe she should go back down? She could go back across the street and tell the voice that he had gotten it wrong. But she stopped. She couldn’t do that.

“Your dispensable,” the voice crept through her mind. He would surly fire her on the spot.

                She glared at the elevator button, maybe she could go back and tell him that he wasn’t in the office? But then he would just send her back over here with a note to put on his door. Maybe she could just knock on of the other offices and ask for directions? And look like a child who lost their mother in the grocery store!? No way. If she was going to get to the shrink, she was going to do it on her terms, with her own power.

                She turned at the heel and began to trace her steps back down the hallway, when the elevator gave off a soft chime and the doors slid open. She turned and faced the elevator, squared off her shoulders and put on the best professional smile she could muster. Not too big to look fake, but not too small so that it makes her look creepy.

                A man wearing an extremely wrinkled suit jumped out of the elevator and looked manically both directions until his eyes landed on Bethany. Before she could shield herself with her bag, the man had sprung over to her and grabbed her arm. She tried to pull away, but he had her in a vice grip. “Hey buddy,” she said. “What the hell do you want?!” He smelled of bile, and she didn’t even want to know the origin of the stain on the front of his white button up. He reached behind him and pulled out his wallet and flipped it open saying, “I am the head investigator on the Brooks case.”

                She looked into his crazy eyes and said, “I’m so relieved. Now what the hell do you want with me?”

                “Are you Mr. Brooks’ attorney, Bethany Rodgers?” he pulled her closer to his body, which made her begin to resist the urge to throw up all over the red carpet.

                “Yes, I am,” she stammered. “Now let go of me!”

                He released her and crammed the wallet back into his pocket, “You shouldn’t be up here, ma’am. I’m going to have to escort you back downstairs.”

                “You don’t understand, inspector,” she shot back at him. “I have an appointment with the court psychologist on behalf of my client.

                The inspector held the door open to the elevator and began motioning her in and said, “I’m sorry but you don’t…” but was cut off by a new voice that had entered the hallway.

                “How do you know what my appointment schedule looks like?” Bethany looked up at the other man that had joined them in the corridor. He was much taller than the inspector; however, he was much thinner as well. He had sharp features and rather large eyes. He wore awkwardly casual clothing, jeans, sneakers, a t-shirt with a blazer over it, and his hair was rather long and shaggy.

                “Ms. Rodgers, I assume?” he looked down at Bethany.

                Bethany straightened up and squared off her shoulders again and reached out her hand to the man in the blazer, “I am Bethany Rodgers. Would you mind if I had a few words with you in your office?”

                The man smiled and took her hand in a firm grip; she was almost alarmed by how long and boney his fingers were. “Of course not,” he said cheerfully. “Right this way!” and he lead her off in the direction she had originally came from.

                Of course, she thought to herself, she had just missed it.

                “Come along, if you wish inspector,” called the shrink behind him at the dumbfounded officer. He was still stationed at the elevator beckoning Bethany in, with a look of morbid shock on his face.

Out of Como and into the Labrynth

“I want you to get me the hell out of here!” the voice still echoed in her head as she quickly walked back out of the prison. The hoots and catcalls followed Bethany, but she paid them no mind. Only the dark voice that haunted her footsteps had power over her.

But why?

What made him so strong?

                Never let your guard down. That’s the lesson she learned from growing up in Como. You had to fight to get what you want and you had to fight even harder to keep it. These thugs in here were nothing. But the man in the hospital was different. He sent chills down her spine that even her Daddy couldn’t do. And that piece of trash labored continuously to try and scare her back into the hood. But this man, he seemed to strike fear effortlessly. He was very pleasant, yes; but there was darkness in his voice that crawled under your skin and wrapped itself around your bones. A darkness that couldn’t be masked.

She nodded to the guard that let her out of the prison and she stepped out into the sun.

Thankfully the press wasn’t here today.

If what she learned from Mr. Brooks… she paused. Her client. Her first client.

If what she learned from him today was anywhere near the truth, everyone had gotten it wrong.

This was big.

She crossed the street to the police station, where the psychologist worked.

                “He has an office on the top floor, “ the voice had told her.

She looked up at the four story building. How was she supposed to get all the way up there to see him? Does he have a secretary that she would need to go through? Would they even let her off of the first floor? Calm down, girl. You’re over reacting. She felt her fingers go cold and she needed to pee. There was no way she was going to be able to handle this.

                “You are dispensable, my dear,” haunted the voice in her head. “You have simple task. If you fail me, I will get another one, just like you, and when I am free, I’m going to hunt you down.”

                She clutched her briefcase tightly with her left hand. She didn’t have a choice. It’s like her Mama always said, “Time you put your apron on and put up with the heat, you aint got nowheres to go, child.”

                Mama was the reason she became a lawyer. After that slimeball of a father beat her to death, the family couldn’t afford a good lawyer to get that monster in jail. She swore that day, the day that he walked free just after his arrest, that she would never leave a family in the position that they were left with, ever. Even if she didn’t have to charge the family. Monsters belonged in stories and behind bar, not in the home.

                Bethany pushed through the doors of the police station and squared off her shoulders, that’s what her Mama would do when Daddy came home. She would tell her, “It’s a lot easier to push over a sack of potatoes than a brick wall.”

                The building inside was a cluttered mess of desks, filing cabinets, whiteboards on rollers, and people all bustling around in some sort of bad parade. She walked past the front desk, towards the elevator sign in the back. She didn’t even look at the young woman at the desk, with just one glance she could tell that it didn’t matter what she did, Bethany wasn’t going to run into any problems from her. The girl was leaning back with a compact mirror in her hand, plucking at her eyebrows. Her long blonde hair was in a messy side braid that seemed to pour over her shoulder and into her lap bellow. She didn’t even look up at Bethany as she past. What a trashy white girl, thought Bethany. She smiled to herself, she probably wouldn’t know what to do if a black person were to suddenly start talking to her. Ah, Texas.

                Bethany weaved her way around the different desks and people. Only a couple looked up at her briefly, but no one spoke to her, or asked what she needed. She guessed that’s what happens when you look professional and walk in like you own the place. She had no trouble making it to the elevator, she pressed the button and the doors opened conveniently for her. She stepped in quickly and pressed the button with the Roman numeral for four printed on it. The doors closed and she let out a deep breath. This was crazy. Absolutely crazy.

                It took only moments for the door to chime and the electric, female voice to say, “The fourth floor, watch your step!” The doors slid open again and she walked into a totally different atmosphere. She stood at the intersection of two hallways. A dark red carpet lay at her feet and the walls were divided in décor with a top half and a bottom, separated by a crown molding that had been painted a similar shade as the carpet. The bottom half of the walls were painted solid black and the top half were alternating stripes of dark and light grey. It was very aggressive, she thought.

                She stepped off the elevator and it closed quietly behind her. She looked down each of the hallways, not really sure where to go now. The voice hadn’t given her a name of this psychologist, he just kept repeating, “That damn shrink!” She assumed that he was some sort of court psychologist, otherwise, why would he have an office in the police station?

                She walked up to the first door and examined the gold name plate that had been screwed into the dark wood. It read, “Stacy Mattus: Deputy Police Captain” Thank God, she thought to herself, at least the name badges had their title written on them. She would just have to walk up and down the hallways until she found the shrink.

               

                She looked behind her, towards the elevator, this was going to take a while. She had no idea how large this floor was. It could take up a whole block for all she knew! She crept over to the next door, trying not to interrupt the eerie silence that the hallways had created for themselves. The next door was for some sort of judge. It was going to take a miracle to find this place before dark.