Let Slip the Hounds of Hell!
This is the sixth chapter of the fourth Willimeena installment: 'Hell Hath No Fury'!
The asylum staff panic as they try to deal with the immense threat from Jerry and his menacing crew!
I hope that you guys like it! 👍
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In an easternmost staffroom (at the entrance of Wing 2), the asylum, back in the past ...
It was 'panic-stations' at the moment!
Staff members were rushing in and out through the main door of the staffroom, with mostly stressed expressions.
Among them was a balding, black-haired man who was leaving ... and a mousy-haired one with a beard entering with a clipboard.
There was only one other door in the room ... the heavily-barred security door entrance for Wing 2 of the asylum.
It stood next to a closet, some filing cabinets, and a blaring, red siren light on the ceiling.
"Willis is out!" a black-haired staffer barked as he snatched up a torch from the nearby desk.
"We already found two dead in the westernmost staffroom. We need more manpower to search the facility!"
"It's more than just Willis!" another staffer interjected, scowling deeply. "It's him and his whole demented gang!"
Said staffer had caramel brown hair, a fu manchu moustache, and was frantically dialling a number on a phone on the desk.
No response. He dialled it twice more, before slamming the reducer down in disgust!
The brown-haired staffer scoffed, and then threw a derisive glance at a row of 'bang sticks' on the nearest wall.
"Screw this!" he snapped, turned, and walked over to the cabinets.
"I'm not banking on a stupid bang stick to stop those sick *******!" the brown-haired staffer stated, as he took a handgun out of one of the cabinets.
The aforementioned man then loaded and cocked the gun, relishing the conflict to come!
His black-haired partner nodded and hefted his torch up ... ready for combat.
"We need to lock this whole place down and call the cops", said staffer said, turning and walking towards the main door.
"I heard that. We don't get paid enough for this *****!" grumbled the black-haired staffer, following him with the gun raised.
"Hey, buddy!" the brown-haired staffer called, stopping as he spotted another staffer nearby. His black-haired partner stopped as well.
"You see any signs of those freaks?"
Said staffer was a dark-haired, lean young man, and was standing in front of the 'Wing 2' security door.
"Somebody saw them heading towards the front gate", the dark-haired staffer replied promptly, with his back to the other two.
"I'm just making sure this area is locked down first."
"Good thinking! We'll meet you there!" the brown-haired staffer called, as he turned his attention away.
The dark-haired man watched him and the black-haired staffer quickly run out of the room, their minds on other things.
He then waited until EVERY staffer had left the room (and were out of hearing range) ... before chuckling darkly.
"You do that ... pendejo (idiot)", the dark-haired man whispered, as he turned around.
It was Tito ... Tito Tortuga himself. Said chap smirked as he reviewed his current situation.
Tampering with the phone here had been child's play ... just as easy as it had been to steal a staffer's shirt to wear.
And these cabezas de hueso (boneheads) call themselves 'security'?! HAH! Tito thought to himself.
The former pickpocket then took Jerry's improvised lockpick out of his pocket, and used it to unlock the door.
Said door then swung open ... and Gus, Ozzie, and Cammy entered the staffroom.
"Har! Har! Har! Nice one, Tito!" Gus congratulated the former pickpocket. "I could have handled those ***** though!" he added, smirking a little.
Tito smiled disarmingly as he divested himself of the stolen shirt, and turned to his comrades.
"There's value in subtlety, mi amigo", the former thief replied. "Anyway, the boss said he wants us to meet back in the loading bay."
Tito then flashed his signature charming smile at them, and jerked a thumb towards the other door.
"We don't want to miss our ride, do we?"
A collection of smiles and murmurs of agreement were the turtle-lover's answer!
"This is fun! It's like we're playing tag or something!" Cammy giggled, rubbing her hands gleefully. "Where's Mr Willis?"
Tito frowned, deep in thought for a moment.
"He said something about a little 'unfinished business' and then he'd meet us there", the former pickpocket said.
"By the way, have you rung your brother yet, chica?" he asked, while turning and walking to the other door.
"Yes!" Cammy said immediately, nodding as she and the others followed behind Tito.
"Just did it on the way here! Jed said that he'd be all ready for us when we get there!"
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In Dr Fine's private office, the asylum, at the same time ...
The phone on Dr Fine's desk abruptly started ringing ... and continued to ring for several seconds before she picked it up.
"Yes, yes", the psychologist muttered. "I realise that some of the patients have escaped."
She was only half-listening to the frantic voice on the phone though.
Most of Dr Fine's concentration was on the computer in front of her, as was evident from her fevered typing.
"I realise we need to evacuate. I'm leaving right now", the doctor said testily, as the voice on the phone got more and more frantic!
"I just needed to get some of my files", she added, eying the open suitcase on her right.
It was sitting on her desk, and stuffed to the brim with handwritten notes.
"I've already got three major publishers bidding on my Jerry Willis tell-all novel. I'm not losing those notes now!" Dr Fine yelled into the phone, before slamming it down angrily.
The doctor grumbled under her breath as she picked up a paper, then tossed it into the bookcase, and resumed typing.
Dr Fine was, however, unaware of the silent figure standing directly behind her.
Jerry Willis took a casual glance around the psychologist's office in curiosity and feigned nonchalance.
It was tidy, dust-free, and extremely boring ... a lot like its owner. The serial killer chief's gaze lingered for a while on the papers in the suitcase.
Jerry's lip curled derisively as he sneered at the unsuspecting Dr Fine.
Pathetic. The wretched woman cares more for her future fortune, than her own pitiful life!
Well, the latter, methinks ... will shortly be at its end.
"Ohhh. I love a good story, Dr Fine ... as you already know," the serial killer chief began ... in his usual calm drawl.
"I was SO hoping you had time for one last ... session."
Dr Fine's irritated look instantly changed to a horrified and sweaty one, as a rough hand suddenly grabbed her shoulder!
Said hand then abruptly switched its grip to the psychologist's neck, and forced her to turn around.
Jerry Willis grinned a toothy grin down at Dr Fine ... a grin as sharp as a shark's!
"I insist."
Who do you think has it worse in this chapter? Vote and comment if you like it! 👍
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