Scarecrow of 1889
Chapter 45: Electric chair

Chapter 45: Electric chair

Dr. Colin Hall couldn’t believe that there were only two more days left before the officials would come to see his patient, Sylvester Crowley die. Not through mercy killing, but with torture.

"Dr. Hall?" Sylvester called for his attention as the alienist had spaced out during the session. "You seem disturbed today. Are you feeling unwell?" he asked in concern.

"Forgive me, Sylvester," Dr. Hall apologised before offering a smile, "No, I am fine. It is just, work has been a little too much and has occupied my mind."

"If you want, we can take a break and continue some other time," Sylvester stated, and after a pause, he added, "The others agree with me too. Agnes says it is the first time you have spaced out like this and may need a break."

Dr. Hall felt even more guilty upon hearing these concerning words from the patient and the alter ego. If only he could buy some more time. But there was neither time nor did the officials care if Sylvester could get better. In their eyes, he was the killer.

"That is very kind of her and you, but you don’t need to worry about me. You are more important to me. All of you," Dr. Hall confessed. If these were truly the man’s last two days, he wanted to make it worthwhile and said, "You have stayed cooped in this place for a long time now, and I wanted to thank you for being patient with me. And us."

"You were doing your job, doctor. And you are helping us get better. We are the ones who are grateful. Also to the judge and the people, who have been understanding," Sylvester replied, and Dr. Hall’s smile faltered on his lips.

The doctor nodded in silence, before he said, "I was thinking maybe we could do something different today. Instead of sessions."

"As in?" Sylvester’s head tilted in question.

"Like anything you would like to do, anything you are missing. You can ask me anything, of course, anything apart from stepping out of this premises, of course," Dr. Hall let Sylvester know.

The entire last two nights, he had contemplated if he should or shouldn’t let the man know on how his fate had been decided. But his senior had already ordered him not to mention a word. Would Sylvester and the others hate him after knowing the truth? That he had been kind to them, while knowing he was going to be punished.

Sylvester wore a contemplative look, and he then asked, "Then... may I request some desserts with fine dinner? Also a glass of bourbon... Ricardo asks for it. And three ice creams for Marcello... mint, cookie and vanilla."

"Of course, how could we forget that," Dr. Hall laughed, trying to put up a front while keeping a calm over his worried self. On noticing Sylvester going quiet as if he were having a conversation with his alter egos, he asked, "Anything more on the menu?"

"No, it isn’t that," Sylvester replied, once his gaze returned to meet the doctor’s and he said, "Ricardo said that the way we put in our requests, it feels like it is our last meal."

"When you chose food, it did feel like that, but I assure you it isn’t," Dr. Hall replied, because there were still a few more meals left. Technically at least, he thought to himself. "But you can do other things or choose not to. I sometimes like my patients to feel like they are still part of our society."

"That is very kind of you. I think you already make us feel comfortable enough here," Sylvester smiled.

They continued talking through things Sylvester and the other alter egos did since the last time they had spoken to each other. Dr. Hall tried to keep things as normal as possible. He visited the man the following day and the last day.

"It feels like you can’t wait to join our pieces together, doc. Si?" Ricardo joked, who had come out to speak to Dr. Hall. "Have another interesting case?"

"You and the others are more interesting than any other patient I have treated until now," Dr. Hall confessed with a smile.

"We are rather unique," Ricardo smiled. "So what are we talking about today?"

"We will be working on your emotions today. On how to deal with them, when you have anger or any other emotion that is bursting through you. So that you know how to handle it," Dr. Hall replied, and they started the session.

When the session ended, Dr. Hall offered a smile and as usual said, "Today was a good session. You did good," and he left.

But there was something missing from the doctor’s words compared to the other times and this was noticed by the man who had just finished the session. When the room was locked, Sylvester asked with a frown,

"Where are the words ’I will see you soon’, doc? Or ’I will see you tomorrow?’"

In the night, the officials had already arrived and were there to speak to Dr. Wright in his office chamber. With them was also Dr. Hall, who stood at the side.

Mayor Andrew Martin of Riddleford was in the room, and Mayor Robert Fraser of Scotland where the asylum was located. Outside their rooms stood their respective guards, while none of the reporters were admitted inside the facility to keep things calm.

"How is the patient doing?" Mayor Andrew questioned with his eyebrows raised.

"He is locked in the room as usual, Mayor Andrew," Dr. Wright said, and he hesitated for a moment before asking, "Is the decision final? If you were to meet the patient you—"

"Dr. Wright, this man might be a patient for you, but let us not forget that he is a murderer. He has killed more than fifteen people and is an obvious threat to society," Mayor Andrew stated in a firm tone.

Dr. Hall was the one who explained, "I am aware that he killed people before, but he is also a victim. If you were to hear the stories, you would know that the victims were not innocent."

"Alright. Let us consider that the victims were not innocent, but couldn’t it be handled in another way? Was death the only solution?" Mayor Andrew asked haughtily. "If yes, then what makes Mr. Crowley more special than the others, when we are only handing out the same punishment he handed the others."

"Dr. Hall," Mayor Robert spoke in a calm voice. "The decision has already been made, and is the final one. Mr. Crowley is sentenced to death, which will commence tomorrow morning. I hope everything is already been prepared according to what I asked, Mr. Wright?" he asked the senior doctor.

"Yes, Mayor. We have prepared the chair in the basement," Mr. Wright replied, while sharing a quiet look with his colleague to stay quiet as the mayors’ decision couldn’t be moved.

"Good. Then we will see you all tomorrow morning in the basement. At eight in the morning," Mayor Andrew replied, and he got up from the chair he was sitting on. "Also, you said, the patients doors are all locked?"

"That is correct," Dr. Wright replied.

"I hope you don’t mind if my guards keep an extra eye on the situation. Precaution never hurts, and this is a high profile death sentence," Mayor Andrew said, before offering a slight bow and leaving with Mayor Fraser, who invited him to have dinner at his home.

Dr. Hall pursed his lips and once the men had left, he heard Dr. Wright say, "The man doesn’t trust us. He’s worried where we will help the man flee," he sighed in the end.

After several minutes, the mayor’s men checked on a sleeping Sylvester and then took their positions by sitting on the chairs on either ends of the corridor for security. The night passed, and when the morning arrived, the basement had started to turn busy.

The electric chair was placed behind a glass case-like room, while before it chairs were being occupied by men of status and reporters, who were eager to see Sylvester Crowley turn crisp and charred. One of the reporters had already begun giving out the radio signal by saying,

"The room has been prepared, and the electric chair with the wires fixed to it! Soon the horrific murderer who had gotten to live will die in a few minutes. We await for him to be brought..."

Dr. Hall was present in the room with Dr. Wright, and they hid their displeasure of how their work of healing had been interrupted.

"Bring the man in question from his room!" Mayor Robert ordered, as everything was ready.

The nurses nodded, and with them went the guards. When the nurses returned, the people’s eyes looked alive, but the nurses wore a look of worry as their eyes met the doctors in the room. Dr. Hall wasted no time and hurried over to them, his pulse racing.

"Where is Sylvester?" he demanded, his voice tinged with urgency.

"That..." the nurse hesitated, her words struggling to escape amidst the scrutiny of the onlookers.

"Perhaps you should sedate him, just for a moment, until he’s safely strapped into the chair," one of the men interjected hastily.

Dr. Hall informed his senior, "I will go bring him."

Upon reaching Sylvester’s room, the mayor’s men were found running away and it made the doctor wonder if Ricardo had turned violent once again. Noticing the open door, he made his way there with caution and entered the room.

But to his astonishment, the room was empty, save for a chilling sight—a scarecrow doll perched ominously on the bed, its lifeless gaze fixed on him.

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