Read Amid the Recesses: A Short Story Collection of Fear for Free Online Page A

distant. “I scrambled from under the bed and
felt those fingers graze the bottom of my foot as escaped. I ran
out of the room screaming. I didn’t even notice the
pain.”
    Doctor Olsen listened as
Mark described his story. He observed Mark’s
disposition.
    “ I left bloody footprints
through the house. When I explained what happened, no one believed
me.” Mark’s eyes refocused on the doctor. He spoke with a sincere
clarity, “When I get into bed now, doctor, I wait by the door for a
minute. When I get into bed now, I jump into bed.”
    “ A typical adult doesn’t
deal with those sorts of concerns, Mark. Adults worry about things
like making ends meet, or how they’re going to take care of their
elderly parents” Doctor Olsen said.
    "A typical adult doesn't
have this 'gift.’” The absurdity of the word was evident in Mark’s
voice. “These things are everywhere, doctor. They’re in your closet
when you reach for your favorite shirt. They’re breathing down your
neck when you’re drying your hair after a shower. They’re curled up
behind the driver’s seat of your car. They’re probably right behind
your chair, doctor.” Mark pointed toward Doctor Olsen.
    The doctor stood and cut
Mark off. “I think we’ve done enough for today, Mark. Thank you.
This has been a productive session. May I escort you to the door?”
The doctor didn’t wait for Mark’s answer. He flipped on the lights
without warning. The doctor released the breath he’d
held.
    Mark watched the panicked
doctor. His eyes thinned as he adjusted to the light. He stood.
“Sure. Thanks for your time, doctor. Same time
tomorrow?”
    Doctor Olsen nodded and
manufactured a weak smile.
     
    When the psychological
report was required in court, Doctor Olsen explained to the jury
that Mark Branson suffered of severe schizophrenia which resulted
in the attack.
    The judge leaned forward. “Do you
think Mark Branson should be subjected to psychological evaluation
in a treatment facility, doctor?”
    Doctor Olsen examined the
prosecution’s desk and Gregory Belford, the victim.
    His face was bandaged. One eye was
covered by white gauze. Doctor Olsen stared into the one
exposed.
    “ I believe—“ he started.
Doctor Olsen looked to Mark, who sat on the opposite side of the
courtroom.
    Mark stared back with a look of
indignation. He had the look of a man that knew the doctor’s answer
before it was said. He waited.
    “— Mark Branson should spend
some time in a mental health facility. Haskell’s Recovery Center is
equipped to handle someone of Mr. Branson’s specifications.” Doctor
Olsen cringed after saying “specifications.”
    The judge nodded. The jury
agreed with Doctor Olsen’s suggestion and sent Mark to evaluation
at Haskell’s Home for the Mentally Ill, often called Haskell’s
Recovery Center.
     
    Three nights later, after
Mark Branson’s conviction, Doctor Olsen read in his study. The fire
flickered across from him and sent shadowy elongations across the
quiet room. The doctor twisted uneasily in his chair. The dancing
shadows made it impossible for the doctor to pay attention to the
text on the page.
    “ Sharp fingers like
knives,” the doctor whispered in the empty room.
    The doctor’s phone rang.
The suddenness of the sound sent his heart into his throat. He
clenched the fabric of his sweater at his chest. He released a
breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He answered.
    “ Doctor Olsen.” He
said.
    “ Doctor Olsen. It’s
Detective Upland. Do you have a minute?” The man asked.
    “ Sure. What is it,
detective?”
    “ I thought I should make
you aware of some recent developments concerning the Branson case.
The man that Branson assaulted, Gregory Belford?”
    “ Yes, yes. Is everything
alright?” The doctor asked. His eyes cast to the open door of the
study.
    “ Not quite, doctor. He’s
dead. Found him under his bed sharing space with four dead kids.
Coroner’s report is suggesting he’s done some