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"The Hour" Update and Epilogue re-post.
Current mood:  excited
Category: Writing and Poetry
Okay, first and foremost, a sincere thank-you to all my readers for their patience. I know it's been a tough couple of months. Secondly, The Hour Book II Chapter One will be posted this weekend. I'll be posting about one chapter per week, I'd like to do more, but I just don't have enough time. Finally, due to publishing concerns (Most publishers will not even consider a book that has already been posted on a site with unrestricted public access.) I will be making The Hour Book II a 'Friends only' blog. I apologize to all those who read my posts of whom I don't know (Feel free to send me a friend request.).
Since I'm posting Chapter I this weekend I thought it might be nice to repost the Epilogue to catch everyone up to speed. Enjoy.
As we all recall, Glyph had just defeated Drathus in the Pass. When Drathus died the curse he created ended, unfortunately, sending Glyph back to Earth…
"No!" Glyph screamed, and opened his eyes. He was in a hospital room.
"Fuck!" He yelled, as he tried to sit up. Then he realized he was strapped to the bed. There were restraints around his wrists and ankles, as well as three straps across his body.
Just then, three police officers ran in with guns drawn, pointed at him. Glyph turned his head and stared at their eyes, they were normal.
"Don't move!" one of them commanded.
Glyph glanced down at his bonds, then back at the officer, and smiled.
"I don't think I'll have any problems there." Glyph said smugly.
The officer blushed slightly, as the other two gave him the eye. They holstered their weapons and two of them left to retrieve a nurse. After about a minute an RN came in to check on him. She checked his I.V. and stared at the monitors for a few seconds.
"How are you feeling today, Mr. Young?" She asked.
"I've been better." He replied, wondering what was about to happen.
"The doctor will be in to see you soon." The nurse informed him, and left.
"Thanks."
Laying his head back down on the pillow, Glyph wondered what was going on. 'I killed Drathus, the curse should be broken, so why am I here? Something should have happened by now. It's been almost ten minutes, why is nothing happening.'
A doctor came in some time later, and picked up Glyph's chart.
"Well Mr. Young, you appear to be in fairly good shape, at the moment. I was wondering if you could answer a few questions for me?"
Glyph said little, until his sixty-first minute rolled by. It was then that he realized the curse had ended. For whatever reason, he was stuck here, and now he had to deal with it.
And so they began the unending quest for a diagnosis. Glyph was asked about a hundred questions that day, and several hundred more the next. He was subject to test after test, and hours of poking and prodding.
Then after about a week, they cleaned him up, chained his legs together, slapped him in handcuffs, and took him to the courthouse. Glyph was brought before a judge, and was appointed a public defender. He was charged with a long list of crimes, including: murdering several Police Officers and civilians, grand theft, and breaking and entering. Afterward he was dragged to the state penitentiary to await his trial.
He was placed in solitary confinement, and passed the days wondering what would happen to him. He thought about it all the time, but no one would tell him anything, so he stopped asking. At night he would sometimes dream of Ishea and Toban, and even Drathus. He would awake wondering what happened to them? Where is Ishea now? What was she doing?
After a month or so, Glyph was visited by his court-appointed attorney. Glyph told him the whole story, leaving nothing out. What else could he do? His only possible hope was an insanity plea, and his lawyer confirmed this. They met off and on for several months. Each time his lawyer would ask him a set of questions, some new, some old. On several different occasions Glyph would be visited by various Doctors and Psychologists. Each time, he would tell his story, answer questions about drug use, his sexuality, or his relationship with his Mother. He would always answer with the truth. Glyph knew no one would believe him, but he also knew he had nothing to hide.
Eventually his trial date arrived, and the guards came and let him clean up. He put on a suit and tie, and was escorted to the prison van in handcuffs. He met with his lawyer at the courthouse, and they went in and sat down. Luckily for Glyph the court was presided over by Judge Finley; his wife had apparently gone loony tunes sometime in the mid-nineties. Ever since then he was known to be sympathetic to insanity pleas.
They read a long list of crimes that Glyph had committed and asked for his plea. It was of course 'Not guilty by reason of insanity', there really was no other option other than guilty, and that was simply unacceptable. The opening arguments were also nothing Glyph hadn't heard before, he had a lot of time to think about what the prosecuting attorney might say. Serial Killer, and Mass Murderer, were just a few of the titles placed on him during those first several minutes. He knew they weren't true, and that he had good reasons for the things he did. Yet, for Glyph, it was still the judgment of society. In his mind he had to come to grips with the ramifications of what he had done in that regard, and that began to bother him a little.
The first witness was Doctor Jacob Hughes; he had been the last doctor to evaluate Glyph's mental state. When asked for Glyph's diagnosis, Dr. Hughes responded
"The complete Medical diagnosis of the defendant Glyph Young, would be Acute Paranoid Schizophrenia with delusions of persecution and psychotic episodes".
It was the first time Glyph had heard it spelled out like that, and he found it to be very sobering.
Both sides continued questioning the Doctor at length, hoping to trip him up, or use him to some advantage. The unexplained injuries that would appear and disappear while Glyph was in a coma, were not allowed as evidence. Glyph decided that all lawyers would most likely be evil, when it came down to it. The thought sent a shiver down his spine. They broke for lunch, but Glyph found he wasn't really hungry.
In the afternoon, they began to hear testimony from witnesses at the hospital. It seemed to Glyph that the whole sticking point here was that most of the witnesses felt some sort of sympathy for him. They would tell what they saw, but would always add some comment as to how they felt compelled to help him, or felt sorry for him. Glyph certainly wasn't complaining, every little bit helped. Not to mention that everyone who had gone evil on Glyph, and survived, had amnesia about what had happened to them. Beyond that was the whole "Mass Hysteria" label that got pinned to the episode. Nobody likes Mass Hysteria for some reason; it's too easy somehow. This went on for several days until they got to the cops. This was why the prosecution sought the death penalty, and as the days went by, the thought of death began to weigh heavily on Glyph.
The following week they heard more testimony from the relatives of all the people Glyph had killed. The words they said made him sick to his stomach, but he knew it was true, from their viewpoint anyway. The most damning piece of evidence was the girl's driver's license, which they found in Glyph's jeans pocket. Interestingly enough, they still hadn't found the car he had ditched off the highway. Had he not kept the license, they would have never suspected him, not that it would have mattered much.
The plan was to 'get by' without having Glyph testify, but after the case took several bad turns with the killing of the police officers, his lawyer decided it was the only way to prove to the jury that he actually was insane. The polygraphs he had taken, that proved at least that he believed he was telling the truth, were also stricken from evidence. Evidently, believing your own insane tale does not make you insane.
And so the time finally arrived for Glyph to take the stand. He was called by the defense, and his lawyer did a fairly good job of making Glyph out to be nuts. Glyph did the rest. At some points in his rendition of the facts, a couple of the jurors actually let out a snicker. For most of them though, an intense look of pity was all that fell across their faces. For two days Glyph sat and told the story with the help of his attorneys, rehearsed questions, and remarks of his mental condition.
As it turned out, that was the easy part. It was the way the prosecuting lawyer tried to twist his words into something murderous and evil, that truly struck Glyph. The battle of good and evil was playing out right before his eyes, in this three ring circus of a courtroom. Through it all, Glyph stuck to his guns, and offered up explanations for his actions that at times made the lawyer take pause in his questioning. Glyph could tell it was starting to get to the prosecution that no matter how hard they tried, they could not prove he was sane when it came to the killings. After a total of three weeks the trial was at a close.
Glyph sat anxiously as he awaited the verdict. The jury had deliberated for three days before coming to their decision. As the lead juror read aloud 'Guilty by reason of insanity', Glyph started to breathe again, that meant a good chance he wouldn't die.
The judge stared at him thoughtfully for several seconds.
"Due to an Acute Antisocial Personality Disorder, the defendant, Glyph Young, is hereby sentenced to an Involuntary Civil Commitment for the rest of his life, with no chance of parole. Mr. Young will be remanded to serve his sentence at The Forensic Psychiatric Hospital for the criminally insane, in Trenton, due in part to the fact that he poses an immediate threat to himself, and the public." The Judge proclaimed.
It was like music and pain for Glyph. He remembered how happy he was that he would not die, and at the same time cringed internally at the thought of life in a mental institution. The Yin and Yang circled in his thoughts for days after the trial, good versus evil, life versus death, and freedom versus imprisonment. It always came back to the balance, and Glyph was the line that separated them both. It was scary and profoundly enlightening at the same time, and he began to withdraw into himself as the thoughts began to consume his days.
Glyph was admitted to the hospital four days after the trial. He was placed in a padded cell, straightjacket and all, to serve out his sentence. The psychologist assigned to Glyph was named Dr. Osirus, and the irony was not lost. He was prescribed some heavy-duty medication, which Glyph hungrily took down. The drugs fucked him up pretty good, and that made it much easier to cope with his situation.
Glyph met with Dr. Osirus three times a week. They talked about everything, and because Glyph appeared to be sane, other than his 'incident', Dr. Osirus went about scientifically explaining the reasons why Glyph had gone insane. Delving into everything from hallucinations to sleep disorders, Dr. Osirus had an explanation. At first Glyph tuned him out, and on several occasions, actually tried to use his magic to undo his restraints, but it never worked. Thoughts of Ishea and the world he was King over, began to fade. It was a slow process; eventually he gave up hope of a rescue, or even an escape.
It was at this point he broke down; eighteen months of constant explanation and theory took its toll. Dr. Osirus called it a breakthrough. Glyph didn't know what it was anymore, and on some subconscious level he wondered if the good Doctor wasn't just using him as a way to further his career. Of course, it really didn't matter for Glyph; it wasn't as if he would be released for accepting these logical explanations for his behavior.
On the third anniversary of Glyph's incarceration, Dr. Osirus left the hospital for a better job. He never even came to tell Glyph he was leaving. 'How could a person do that?' Glyph had wondered, as he sat in front of Dr. Aehsi, his new shrink.
She was of Indian descent, and wore a dot in the middle of her forehead. Glyph thought he once knew what the symbol meant but had since forgotten. He wanted to ask her about it, but all the doctors had a strict policy against asking personal questions.
Interested in his current revelation and acceptance of his condition, she asked Glyph to explain it to her as best he could. This had not been too much of a problem, until about a month had passed, and Dr. Aehsi was asking him about his love for Ishea, and how he felt about her being a mere stress-induced hallucination. Glyph faltered momentarily, and began to cry.
"It appears to me that you have been fed a line of regurgitated reasoning, and made to believe these explanations through repetition, and mental manipulation." Dr. Aehsi told him.
"What do you mean?" Glyph asked wiping his tears away.
"I mean that Dr. Osirus brainwashed you into believing his explanations instead of finding real answers."
It sounded better than it was. Dr. Aehsi began to deconstruct his current thinking of his incident by offering alternate reasoning and explanations, and after awhile Glyph realized that she was right. Osirus fed him one version, and made Glyph believe it. It was like a mind rape, and as Aehsi walked him back out of it, he found himself revisiting his feelings for Ishea, and his former friends, only to have them squashed in other ways. He started to tell her less and less, and after two months decided not to speak at all.
Glyph remembered that last session well.
"So, are you not going to say anything now? Are you just going to pretend it didn't happen? Or try to relive it, over and over in your mind, hoping for what? Salvation? Immunity? Self Preservation? You are at a crossroads now Glyph, you can either run from your problems, or learn to face them. The choice is yours." Dr Aehsi had told him, then had the guards wheel him back to his cell. He had felt like screaming at her, to ask her what difference would it make, and how any of this would change his quality of life, but he remained silent.
Now, Glyph lay on his mattress in the corner of his cell, staring at the wall thinking about everything, and nothing. The Yin and Yang. It had been three years and three months since his imprisonment, and nearly four years since he awoke from a coma in the hospital. Almost four and a half years since the incident began and he was first tormented by his hallucinations, or whatever you want to call them now. Glyph had ceased to care; he would be here in this room until he died and nothing would change that. Nothing at all. There were so many things he would never do, and the weight of his thoughts made him weep.
He must have fallen asleep, because he suddenly felt awake, like he had been jolted out of his sleep. Looking around his cell he saw nothing out of the ordinary, yet for some reason the hair on the top of his head stood on end.
Suddenly a blue crackling energy filled the room, and Glyph closed his eyes to block out the blinding light. When he opened them he saw Ishea standing in front of him, the blue light of the Divanare crystal surrounding her. Glyph closed his eyes and tried to turn away as best he could.
"Glyph." He heard her say. "Glyph! Thank the Gods I have finally found you! It has taken me months, but I have found the way to bring you back! Glyph?"
Glyph turned further into the seam in the padding at the corner of the wall.
"Glyph what is wrong? What has happened to you?" Ishea asked.
"NO.no.no.no." Glyph said into the wall.
"I have found a way to bring you back, but we must hurry! Glyph, do you understand?"
Glyph stiffened, and rolled over. He pulled his legs up underneath of him like a worm, and stood up leaning against the wall. He turned then to face her.
"Oh Glyph, what have they done to you?" She said sadly, and tears began to streak down her face. The room was dark around her and something clicked in the back of his mind. He had seen this scene before.
"How?" Glyph asked her hoarsely, his eyes wild.
"I can open a gate between this world and yours, but we must work together, and quickly!" Ishea replied.
He began to laugh, and then cried, and then laughed again. The thought struck him, who cares if it's real or not, it has to be better than a padded cell. "What do you need me to do?" he said gruffly, his wide eyes shifting back and forth.
"I have found you using the Divanare, but in order to open the gate I need you to concentrate on me. When I feel your thoughts I can create the gate. It will only last a few seconds after it appears, so you must act quickly. I can only do this once Glyph, so we must make it count." Ishea explained to him.
"So I just have to think about you?" Glyph asked dubiously, "Isn't that a little convenient?"
"We're running out of time! I don't have time to explain everything to you. I am in danger right now."
"Where are you?"
"Degruthras. I'm on Drathus's world, Glyph, it was the only way to find your world. Now please hurry. Concentrate!"
Glyph stared at her for a few more seconds, then closed his eyes, and concentrated on Ishea, and the memory of her. There was a loud snap sound, as Glyph's ears popped. He opened his eyes and there was a large oval of swirling blue-green energy in the corner of the cell. He looked back and forth from the door to the gate of energy.
"Fuck it all!" He wailed, hopped across the cell, and leapt full force into the wall of crackling light and vanished. The room went dark, and all was silent.
1:31 PM
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