Chapter 181: Torment from the Mentally Disturbed

[Chapter 182: Torment from the Mentally Disturbed]

In some ways, social media resembled that of the stars; it didn't fear heated debates, but rather, it dreaded being ignored. Under Hawke's deliberate machinations, men and women began bickering, and the topic quickly shifted away from the Hawke incident itself, veering toward a war of the sexes.

This verbal skirmish spread from Twitter to the North American internet, drawing in numerous print media outlets. Even some European press got in on the action. In real life, it might not have been too noticeable. However, Twitter became a battleground, with a surge of people registering an account to join one side or the other, all ready to fight.

As everyone knew, online arguments rarely resulted in a clear victor. A bunch of trolls could never outsmart another group of trolls. There were also those who, after registering, didn't contribute much but eagerly consumed gossip. The only ones profiting from this debacle were Twitter itself.

Seizing the opportunity, Twitter launched a Spanish version targeting all Spanish-speaking markets. This included Spain and all of Latin America from Mexico down south, effectively expanding Twitter's reach. In just a few days, Twitter added over three million global users. Their total count approached 25 million.

...

Caroline called Hawke from Australia, saying that the trending topics had simplified her promotional work significantly, allowing her to seal deals with telecom providers in Australia and New Zealand. She nearly burst into song on the phone, performing "The Sheep Song" for Hawke.

Next, Hawke planned to collaborate with Brian on dealing with the behind-the-scenes bastards; his company needed someone to hold the fort. He instructed, "Finish up your work over there and come back immediately." Caroline responded without hesitation, "I'll have someone book a flight now."

Hawke slipped into his PUA mode, saying, "Miss Baa, the company can't function without you." Caroline felt the urge to transform into a flying sheep and head back to Los Angeles right away, exclaiming, "I'll book the earliest flight."

...

Later in the afternoon, Erica called, inviting Hawke to the St. Mary Mental Health Treatment Center, saying she had crafted quite a performance. Hawke awaited this planned stunt for days, hoping it would reveal who was behind Bella.

Due to her mental issues, Bella Sain was temporarily detained there. The LAPD had denied bail, citing her potential risk to herself and public safety, necessitating a psychological evaluation. That evening, two mental health experts were set to evaluate Bella.

By the time Hawke exited the office, Erica's Mercedes-Benz G-Class was already waiting at the building entrance. As he got in, he asked, "Am I allowed to observe on-site?"

Erica turned onto Pacific Coast Highway, replying, "The involved parties or their lawyers have the right to observe. I took care of the paperwork."

"Is Brian coming too?" Hawke expressed concern. "That guy, with his curse of a mouth, could disturb everyone and make the patients riot."

Erica reassured him, "Brian is your lawyer; I've already called him."

Hawke queried, "Did you bring your long gun?"

Erica gestured to the back, saying, "The gun bag is right there."

Just to be safe, Hawke reached for it. "You should definitely take it when we get out later."

Taking into account Brian's previous strange words of encouragement, Erica felt that having the long gun would be a prudent choice. Hawke opened the bag, finding a tactical vest, an AR-15, a shotgun, along with magazines and ammo. He inspected everything and confirmed it was ready for use.

...

After driving for over forty minutes, they stopped in front of an old building now surrounded by an electric fence. The tall walls bore a sturdy iron gate, next to which stood a watchtower. All the guards were armed, their uniforms clearly not belonging to the LAPD.

Hawke remarked, "Their uniforms look a bit off." Erica parked in the lot.

She explained, "This place was originally managed by the Los Angeles City Hall, but with the increasing number of mentally ill criminals, the law mandates that they can't be housed with regular inmates. The costs have been rising every year, so the city outsourced the St. Mary treatment center to a private entity."

Hawke recalled, "I've heard a lot of prisons are also outsourced."

"Exactly. California has also outsourced some prisons," Erica summarized, "On one hand, crime is on the rise, expenditures keep increasing, and the finances are tight. On the other hand, many states, including California, rarely impose the death penalty, and when they do, it's difficult to enforce. The number of violent offenders is increasing, requiring solitary confinement, which costs even more."

Hawke prompted, "What kind of performance did you plan? You've been tight-lipped."

"A little surprise," Erica hinted, busy with plotting: "A scene that can make Bella Sain talk."

...

Several cars arrived one after another, with a few LAPD officers, including Milner, stepping out. One of the vehicles was a Mercedes, and out walked Brian, also known as the Crow's Mouth.

Both Hawke and Erica exited the car too; Erica grabbed the gun bag and followed Hawke and Brian toward the gates. They presented their IDs, and the deputy director, Nathan, allowed them entrance. Milner was armed as well.

Erica presented her officer credentials, and the personnel didn't comment when they noticed the gun in her bag. Nathan had someone lead the way and approached Erica, whispering a few words.

Erica nodded, "No real criminals involved."

"Not a chance," Nathan chuckled, "They've been here for years, handling those mental cases and know how to act."

Keeping her voice low, Erica said, "Once this is done, the remaining payment will come to you."

Hawke overheard, but with Erica managing things, he didn't dig further.

They turned into a hallway leading to the inpatient area. Every few feet, there was a steel door, heavily guarded, reminding Hawke of the film Terminator 2.

The mental institution where Sarah Connor was held was no different.

Erica seemed to sense what Hawke was thinking and whispered, "Some scenes from Terminator 2 were filmed here."

Brian chimed in, "Being told this makes me feel like we just shifted from a horror movie to a sci-fi flick."

Given the mix of horror and sci-fi conversation, Hawke sternly warned, "Keep quiet and don't mention any nonsense."

Brian protested, "I just thought it resembled a horror flick..."

"You can shut up now," Hawke replied very seriously. "From now on, just wear your glasses and forget about having a mouth."

Brian grasped Hawke's point but couldn't help but protest, "You two jerks, stop throwing around baseless accusations."

As he opened his mouth to make a grand statement, "With security like this, how could anything go wrong..." he suddenly felt something hard poking him from behind and quickly fell silent.

Lowering his gaze, he discovered it was Hawke's finger and sighed in relief.

...

They arrived at the evaluation room and stepped into the adjacent observation room, separated by one-way glass where they could see everything happening inside the assessment area.

Two professionals assessing Bella Sain's mental state were on their way.

Brian pointed at his own mouth.

Hawke reminded him, "Let's stick to serious topics."

Brian whispered, "If the evaluation shows no issues, Bella Sain could be bailed out, but under activity restrictions; she won't be allowed to leave Los Angeles. Given what she did, I'm confident I can spin this and have her charged with false accusations, leading to a one-year sentence."

Hawke frowned, "Just a year?"

"She's a woman," Brian explained, "Women evoke sympathy and get preferential treatment, even in court."

Hawke glanced around at the others, his voice lowered, "Which place is more suitable, a women's prison or St. Mary's?"

Brian replied, "Anyone kept here long enough -- sane or not -- might end up with mental issues; some might even become severe."

Hawke rarely felt sympathy for his foes. "Then let's figure out how to keep her here longer."

...

In the inpatient area, the criminally insane section, the light faded outside, and the lights hadn't turned on yet. Bella Sain, having been there for days, was highly tense. Since arriving, she hadn't slept soundly.

Suddenly, sounds of scratching echoed through the thin walls between the rooms. The jerk next door was scraping the cement wall with his nails.

Though not loud, the noise sent chills down her spine and was unbearable.

Clang! Clang--

In the other room, someone began to rhythmically bang their head against the iron bars of the cell, using just enough force to not injure themselves while ensuring the noise carried far.

Combined with the scraping sound next door, it felt like someone was drumming while another played the violin -- though the worst kind.

Out of the blue, someone knocked on the iron door from across the hall. Bella then realized that a new resident had moved in opposite her.

The person across the two iron doors and hallway gestured for her to come closer.

Hoping to engage with someone normal, Bella cautiously approached and found the individual appeared neat and tidy, quite normal.

The person asked, "Hey, beautiful, how did you end up here?"

Seeing the man's body language and demeanor appeared stable, Bella replied, "The LAPD said I was mentally unstable and had a severe tendency to self-harm..."

"Self-harm?" He asked curiously, "What did you cut off?"

Suddenly, he turned sideways, lifting his shirt: "Like me?"

Bella noticed a massive scar on his side that looked like a gruesome centipede.

However, injuries to the body were better than mental strains; she asked, "You self-harm too?"

He chuckled, "I love eating animal organs, but the food here is awful and doesn't provide any. So, I found a knife and cut it out to eat."

At this revelation, Bella instinctively recoiled.

The scratching sounds became sharper at that moment; the individual next door crawled in front of the door, scraping the metal bars as he spoke, "I watched you get taken away, and now you're back like this."

That person quipped, "What can a blind person see?"

The scratching halted, and a voice rang out: "I wasn't blind before."

Bella, a Stanford graduate and former Silicon Valley white-collar worker, found herself in LA only due to someone holding a dangerous secret against her.

These past few days had revealed a harsh reality starkly different from her imagination; this place wasn't meant for humans.

Suddenly, the noise cut off, and footsteps approached. A few guards, along with two burly female attendants, arrived at her door.

They opened it, shackled Bella, and led her out toward the evaluation room, quickly securing her into an iron chair with locks.

*****

https://www.patreon.com/Sayonara816.