Kendall was fast asleep in her bed when her telephone rang. A thick novel at her side, opened midway printed pages down. A small study lamp provided scant light to her studio apartment.
She's miles north of the housing estate where Arman rented house was. Half-awake by the third chime, Kendall reached out to her smartphone charging on a three-tier, white book cabinet besides her bed. She saw the number through half closed eyes and frowned.
The hospital? An emergency?
"Who is this?"
"Nurse Aishah, Dr Kendall. You had better come quickly to the hospital. Mr. Chang in West Hall. He's... dead."
Stunned, Kendall sat upright, her mind racing.
"Dead? An accident? Where is Arman? Put him on the line."
"He's not here. Please, Dr Kendall. We're also missing a patient."
"Not there? Where… Okay. Calm down. Get all the patients to stay inside their room. I'll be there shortly. Have you called the police, Aishah?"
"No. We decided to call you first. The missing patient is one of them."
Them. The confidential ones.
A short "Hmm" as she cut off the call. Kendall slipped on a simple t-shirt, a sweater on top and tucked herself into a pair of jeans. The sparse traffic allowed her to reach the hospital minutes earlier than she had estimated.
Where is Arman? Is he in trouble? What the hell happened here?
hell happened your Arman is in the thick of it a patient is dead another missing he is so in trouble
Kendall sped past the guardhouse and drove straight to the waiting area of the lobby's driveway. She ran to the side door which was slightly ajar. Saw the night's security guard inside, waiting. Found herself walking into near pandemonium, the nurses having a handful in trying to comfort those patients who filled the lobby.
"Get the patients inside their rooms!"
Silence descended as Kendall added, speaking more firmly, "Please. Allow us to find out what happened here."
The patients, some dozens of them, murmured amongst themselves but obliged. Everyone from nurses to patients to regular visitors were very much aware of the chain of hierarchy at the hospital. Scores began returning to their own rooms, the nurses escorting.
One stayed, stood waiting.
"Nurse Aishah. Which room was it again?" she said, looking at the disheveled nurse in her late 40's, one of the more senior of her staff.
"This way, Dr. I'm afraid it's quite bad."
She led Kendall and motioned for the security guard to follow. Kendall spotted immediately the room where Aishah found the body.
The one Arman named Ain?
ssssweet name Ain and she was a beautiful one wasn't she was he in love with her yes he was I bet you he was
As they arrived in front of the room, the nurse stepped aside allowing Kendall a clear view of the doorway.
"My God…."
She caught the dead man's vacuous eyes staring deep into hers. The head tilted at an angle. Detached but connected to the body of a fat man doing a yoga pose. The lower limbs splayed out akin to a frog waiting to make a jump.
"The occupant's gone?" she asked, not naming her.
"Nowhere to be found, doctor. And so is Encik Arman," said the nurse, looking directly at her administrator.
they're in this together they must be punished the dead needs revenge nasty girl took Arman away with her nasty nasty sweet Ain
"Please call the police, Aishah. Arman and the girl must be involved with this incident," she said. "Don't let anyone else come into this area until the police arrive. No one."
Her eyes quickly scanned the room. Saw the make-shift rope made by twisting the hospital gown. The strewn items inside showing signs of a struggle.
Arman must have engaged this poor man. But why is her gown around his neck?
She remembered then not seeing Arman's pickup in the parking area. Empty except for some motorbikes and the hospital's van.
girl goaded him Arman left you for the nasty girl must revenge both so nasty
Was it all a ruse? Did he plan this? And something went awry?
Unconsciously, a feeling of hatred had begun to bubble in Kendall's mind. Thoughts of betrayal replacing her bewilderment over Arman's disappearance. Her eyes fell on the dead patient's eyes. Saw him staring back at her with the deepest longing. To regain a life lost.
****
She had detected the telepathic disturbance from the hospital but had dismissed the manipulation akin to a spoiled child's tantrums. A low-level telepath going crazy with his newfound abilities.
It was the second manifestation which disturbed Carissa McNaughton. The learning curve was far too swift which saw its owner flitting in and out of her mind scan before completely going nondescript. Reminiscent of the Ghost whom she thought the Cabal had rid of months prior.
She had viewed with quiet bemuse the first telepath's manipulations of a psychotic patient to murder someone. With idle time in her hand, Carissa watched with some wonderment the level of vileness in the unfolding act. She remembered her own practice sessions decades prior.
Upskilling her powers by seeking out the docile, frail minded, and getting them to do her biddings. That it left them with frayed psychic trauma from overloaded neurons was just part of the training regime. Some she knew their identities; others Carissa just couldn't care less who they were. Plaything. Wasn't her fault they had inferior mental faculties.
The target of the first telepath at the mental hospital proved more resourceful which surprised even her. So much so she could only catch the tendrils of the young female's thoughts. The other could do nothing despite his bragging about wanting to influence others. Carissa knew he was already stretched to the limits when his target entered the manipulated mind. This at the same time of tuning out the chaos of multiple, including intensely psychotic, thoughts around her.
How is that even possible? Unless…
She picked up her phone and texted: Open the channel and alert the Council. I think the Ghost has resurfaced.
And waited. Seconds passed then the ping of a thought speak in her mind.
What? Are you sure? We lost so many that day.
I'm not. And this one has even greater potential. We knew the Ghost had curbed his abilities to avoid us.
God Almighty. Initiating, C. Ready in five.
She replaced the phone on the side table. Next to her, the softest of rustle in subconscious movements from the man she married decades back. Having one was sound in for public relations purposes. That they didn't have any children mattered little to both. The sex was good. She had experience better. Knew he had young lovers these days. Didn't care as she was past such physical needs when the cerebral pleasures proved limitless.
Readying herself for the conference of minds, Carissa caressed her husband's mind with a dream sequence she knew he loved having repeats of.
Ladies and Gentlemen. I believe we may have either a resurfaced enemy or a new and dangerous threat.