Anastasia

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What Horrors Lie Inside


Hello treasured readers,

This is your author speaking. In this chapter, there will be vivid themes, of old psychiatric facilities, and how these facilities would treat people. This is not for the faint of heart, and I urge you to take care of your mental health first.

Warning: This chapter is set in a fantasy/ nonfiction kind of way. The Serbsky Institute, was renamed the Serbsky Center in the 1990's. This book however, up until this point, has been set in the 2000′s. I realize this, however, I wanted to educate my audience on the horrors that did, once occur, and still do occur in modern times.

That being said, I am not Russian myself. And I am not a professional in the field of psychiatry, as of this point in my life. With this in mind, if you find any misinformation, and would like to let me know. I am always up for constructive criticism, and will do my very best to correct any mistakes post haste.

In this chapter of Nadia's life, I intend not to shed a light on the Serbsky Institute alone, but rather on the tragedies of all mistreated psychiatric patients.

If you need to skip this chapter, on a practical note, I completely understand. So to compensate, I will give a brief rundown before I move along. For those that want to read the gory details of this chapter, you may skip ahead to the light print now. For those of you sensitive to this topic, please only read the bolded print, before moving on to Chapter 14: The System.

*Spoiler Alert*

Nadia is held in The Serbsky Institute, run between the years 1921 and the 1990's/21st century.

Here, she is tortured practically, in horrible conditions. Though her Ketamine is no longer with her. She still experiences the vision of the demon. Which haunts her, as she is no longer able to bare children behind the four walls of the Serbsky Institute.

She fears Ana will die, as that, is what she has been told. She Becomes enthralled with rage and unbearable pain. After being forcefully restrained, and immobilized by the annoyed staff. Her relentless outcries lead the staff to violently hold her down, and booty juice Nadia, throwing her in solitary confinement.

She is held here, for days and days on end.

When she is released, Nadia is forced to come to terms with her new reality, and befriends a patient by the name of Svetlana.

Svetlana had tragically lost her husband a long while ago. Because of this, Nadia felt as though Svetlana understood her. She had experienced the loss of a spouse. Which she had revealed in group therapy her first day. This gives them a common ground, and begins their bond.


Darkness enveloped the plain off-white walls of the the dingy hospital. The windows were permanently cracked, as they leaked cool air into the already bone-chilling room.

Nadia sat on a bare, stained mattress, without a frame, it lay on the cement floor, cultivating piles of dirt, which spread, layering the room. Beds were lined against the wall, side by side, all bare, and all with a yellow tint.

"You can't be here. You're not real, you're not real. They said you're not real. You're just a figment of my imagination. It's just the withdrawal. Ignore him Nadia." She spoke softly, so that no staff members could hear her.

The price of displaying the symptoms of a mental illness, in a facility meant to aid people with mental illnesses. Was not what one would think it would be. Unless you would consider torture and intense abuse, helpful.

"Nadia," The voice taunted. "Times ticking. Tick, tick, tock. How are you gonna get me the child?"

"I don't know, I don't know."

She began to tug at her hair, a behavior she would soon regret. She was restrained by two large men, as forty-seven dense blankets, were wrapped hermetically around her.

This, a common occurrence within the four walls of the hospital. When a patient displayed signs of self harm, or self injury. They would be physically immobilized one way or another.

Though, in spite of the restraints, Nadia fought to the death. She struggled and hollered, persistent as she always was. Hours would go by, as she squirmed and cried out in pain, The cramping, caused by the airtight constraints, had caused her extremities to tingle. Despite this, She remained un-wavered, as time passed, and with each hour, she only grew more tenacious.

When the staff had finally reached their point of intolerance, Nadia would be unraveled, only to be bound to the callous floor. Before she could process what was going on, her pants would be yanked off.

A stinging pinch to her buttocks, would result in the involuntary relaxation, of each and every one of her muscles. Her corpse-like body, would then be dragged across the floor, and thrown into the tiny cement room. This, was solitary confinement.

For days, Nadia would pace, back and forth, up and down, and all around that tiny, claustrophobic closet, of a space. She would spend large periods of time, cradled. Rocking back and forth, in the corner of the room. She continued to tug and pull at her hair, which was becoming frail, and agile, due to the lack of nutrition in her diet.

When the doors finally permitted her escape, Nadia sprang from the penitentiary, and into the communal area. Where she was bombarded by her peers. They reminded her of the living dead, most of them, were zonked out on heavy sedation.

"Okay guys, group time." The monotoned voice of a nurse echoed through the open space.

As each patient, leisurely made their way to the circle of white, metal, rusted chairs. Each member of staff, hurried them along, pushing for the group to move faster.

One by one, each patient was given a set number of minutes to dole out their feelings, before the next would continue. Nadia did not care much for this. She was almost always cut off, or interrupted. She would take too much time, or an emergency would break out amongst patients. Whatever it was, it always occurred during Nadia's turn.

Therefore, Nadia refused to pay much attention to group therapy. That is, until a girl, she hadn't recognized, started to speak.

"Hi everyone, my name is Svetlana. I'm new here, as of this morning... Ten years ago, my husband died in a drowning incident, he was the love of my life. Since then, I have battled with major depressive disorder, and a debilitating, severe panic disorder."

Nadia perked up at the story, cautious not to display her excitement, while Svetlana was describing the tragedy. She found the coincidence quite entertaining, looking up to see her demon standing over her.

It took everything she had not to cause a commotion. She wanted to shout at the imposter, she wanted to lunge at him. But that would be foolish. She would be thrown right back into the horrific cell.

Clenching her jaw, and refusing to even lay her eyes on him, Nadia stared straight ahead. She nodded and motioned along with the group, masking the taunting demon in her peripheral vision.

When group had finally concluded, patients were given five minutes to socialize, before they were sent back to their mattresses. This, was Nadia's chance.

"Svetlana was it? My name's Nadia." She held out her filthy hand, and Svetlana shook it.

"How often do they let you shower 'round here?" She responded sarcastically, to the tarnished woman before her.

"They line us up naked against the wall, and spray us with a power shower. There's no soap, or shampoo." Nadia responded on the defense, while brushing her hand on her thigh.

"That sounds awful."

"Well its not fun, I'll tell you that much."

Svetlana nodded, with a twinge of fright.

"I heard, you lost your husband."

"Oh yes, it was just terrible." Svetlana felt a weird vibe radiating from Nadia, but she brushed it off as being, 'the typical amount of awkwardness,' expected from a psychiatric patient.

"Oh I know, I lost my husband Damienka, Nine years ago. It was tragic as well, car wreck."

"I'm so sorr-"

Before Svetlana could achieve the end of her condolences, A nurse interrupted, screaming, "Meds!" At the top of her lungs, in the most aggravating voice.

As the line began to form, Nadia smiled with a tender glow. It was quite possibly the first true smile she had presented, in over a year of being locked away.

As each patient blindly swallowed a tiny, paper cup of meds, chased down with metallic, flavored water. They were directed to their mattresses for sleep.

This, a pure stroke of fate, when Svetlana was pointed towards the mattress next to Nadia's. Nadia wore an optimistic grin.

Staring at the back of her thick, blond hair, Nadia felt the first sense of serenity she had experienced in quite some time. 'You will be my one.'

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