Shades of Grey
Chapter 80: The Breaking Point

MURIAS ASYLUM— APRIL 1844 sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FɪndNøvel.ɴᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

The others were silent as I told them what I had seen at dinner the following evening.

“May God see fit to release His unrelenting wrath down upon that evil, shrewish demon woman…” cursed Ophelia.

I said nothing; I only stared at the table, wondering what terrors Kingsmith would have in store for me next.

“I have a follow up meeting with her tonight,” I said softly in anticipation. “She wants to see how I’m doing…”

“Don’t show any sign that it affected you,” warned Isabella. “She will mock you until you act in anger and do something foolish. You must remain strong! Do not show her how you feel!”

Tears for Cyrus formed in her eyes as her voice became more passionate. I nodded, clenching my fist in anger as Warden Allen appeared in the recreation room doorway, staring at me expectantly.

“Grey,” Kam said suddenly, gripping my wrist as I stood to leave. The depth of pain in his eyes was almost too much to bear.

“Yes?” I choked.

“Promise me she will pay for this. Swear to me that she will die…”

The vengeful rage in his eyes reminded me of Scepta’s dolourous expression right after Loria’s death. I bit my lip as the same emotions returned with swift, arduous power.

“I promise,” I said, turning to Warden Allen and following her to Kingsmith’s office.

“Welcome back, Grey.”

Dr. Kingsmith stared at me with facetiously sadistic triumph. I did not move. I did not even blink. I merely stared at her with callous silence.

“I see you still do not understand what I showed you in the theatre,” she said as she took several notes in my case file.

“I understand perfectly,” I replied plainly. “You showed me genocide.”

“What I showed you was the equivalent of Hercules cleaning the Augean Stables: erasing the grit and revealing the magnificence beneath.”

“You are nothing more than a murderer,” I spat in rage.

She smiled at me.

“All the better to serve the people of Murias.”

I bit my lips, trying to heed Isabella’s warning, but the doctor was too sharp. She saw my internal struggle.

“Did it disturb you?” she asked with disbelief.

“Of course it disturbed me! You murdered innocent people!” I shouted.

“And what exactly do you do as a ‘Hunter’?”

“I do not kill the sick! I do not kill the innocent! I am trained to destroy monsters and creatures that pose a danger to humans!”

“Who are you to decide what is dangerous? There are some humans that pose dangers to other humans, are you going to kill them as well?”

“That is not my jurisdiction. That is a job for the police.”

“Oh, Hunters do have boundaries then…”

Kingsmith had spoken with a tone of superior umbrage that was frighteningly similar to the tone Verrilius had used with me before I left. I began to fear that I had entered yet another magical fallacy.

“I thought you did not believe in Hunters,” I countered. She laughed.

“Believe in Hunters? Oh, you silly girl, I’ve always known Hunters are real. I also know that they are filthy murderers who need to be shown what sort of horrors they commit on a daily basis while under the terrible delusion that they are actually benefitting mankind.”

“I do not murder,” I said with conviction. “You murdered sick people whom you could have helped!”

“I eliminated those that were lost causes. You, on the other hand, roam the countryside swinging your weapons at every creature you come across that is on your filthy List. Now who sounds more like a murderer?”

My face contorted into a frown of horror as I saw the parallel. She was right…what was the difference between what she had done and what I had spent my whole life training to do?

“My God…” I whispered, sitting back in my chair, uncertainty and exhaustion weighing on me.

“Hunters do kill the innocent,” she spat as she stood in her chair. “I was merely showing you exactly what you have been training to do your entire life.”

I stared at her, at a loss for words.

“I do not murder…I protect the humans…”

My voice was weak and doubtful, despite the internal fire that burned incessantly within me. Deep down, I knew I was doing the right thing, but her unerringly cold stare convinced me that what she said was true as well. I fell silent as my head began to war with my heart.

Dr. Kingsmith gave me a sympathetically soft smile as she observed my struggle.

“Are we having a bit of self-doubt? Are we second-guessing the path we have chosen?”

I cocked my head, my face twisting into an expression of stoic offence. Kingsmith noticed.

“Denial is the preliminary sign of madness…”

“I’m not mad,” I replied firmly, trying to regain some self-assurance.

“The harder you deny. The further you push your already shattered mind.”

“I’m not mad.”

“Grey, you’re not helping anyone here…”

“I’m not mad.”

“Unless you realise the sad fact that you are sick, I cannot help you and if this continues, soon you will be labelled ‘incurable’ and you saw what happens to the incurables.”

I broke through my arm restraints and slammed my fists down on her desk, leaning inches away from her smug face before my tight ankle restraints held me back.

“I’M NOT MAD!”

My declaration echoed off the walls of her office, jostling some books loose from their shelves, but Kingsmith did not move; she simply stared at me with an odd grin, as though she had expected such an outburst. I then noticed her flame tattoo light up, followed by a stout knock at the door.

Warden Allen entered the office.

“You called, ma’am?” she said.

“Yes. Take Miss Echo to solitary. She has a lot to think about.”

“Yes ma’am. Come on, then.”

Warden Allen loosened my bonds but I continued to stare darkly at Dr. Kingsmith, even as we left the room and descended the stairs to the fourth wing, my shattered confidence plaguing me the entire way.

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