Acolyte (The Wildermoor Apocalypse Book 1) Read Online Free

when Dr. Thacker had been introduced to him.  Wildermoor Brook was deemed to not have the manpower to commit itself to the care of Colin Dexler, which was another way of saying that they wanted no part of his case.  Henceforth there would be no blood on their hands if they could not control him or cure him.  Nobody wanted to shoulder that responsibility.
    Dexler had been put into Dr. Thacker’s care five months previous.  There had been very little in the way of recent criminal activity on his part but his ramblings were causing concern for the medical staff and law enforcers alike; concerns for his safety and ultimately, their own.  Lorraine had been tasked with trying to crack the origins of his paranoia. Some had suggested trying to lure him into committing a violent or abusive act so that they would have enough evidence to elevate his case to the point where he could be incarcerated.
    Lorraine had been horrified by this suggestion, for fear of putting herself in danger and also because she believed that Colin Dexler was not the monster others perceived him as.  He was scared, she could see that.  She believed the act of possessing a fear should not be exploited or manipulated.  Colin had started to open up lately and she believed that whichever Colin Dexler the police had found that night, was not the one who sat before her today.
    Colin sat on the edge of the padded chair, his feet crossed, hanging down and both hands clasped together, his arms hanging limp into his lap.  He had lost weight in recent weeks; she could tell.  His eyes looked to be receding into his skull and his skin appeared to be hanging from his face.  She had never seen him smile and wondered how dramatically his appearance would be alter if he simply raised the corners of his mouth. The hair on his head was closer-cut than before, and greying.
    Lorraine grasped her coffee mug as she turned and walked back to her chair opposite the one in which Colin slumped.  She looked at him with pity. He reminded her of a wounded pet that she felt unable to offer help.
    ‘I would offer you some coffee,’ she offered, ‘but I believe the caffeine would interfere with your medication.’
    Since his arrest Colin had been on a course of antipsychotics.  Colin looked up to meet Dr Thacker’s face, his eyes drooping at the sides before sinking once more towards the floor.
    ‘How do you feel today?’
    Colin shrugged his shoulders and mumbled something which Lorraine couldn’t decipher. ‘Are you sleeping well?’
    ‘Sleep?’ Colin replied surprising himself as much as he did the doctor.  His voice was slow and his speech slurred.  ‘No.’ He concluded.
    ‘You’re having problems sleeping?’
    ‘It never comes.’
    ‘Why is that?’
    ‘He tells me that I can’t sleep. I’m not allowed to.’
    ‘Who’s He?’ Lorraine prompted knowing that she was making ground as she had done in the early stages of their first meetings.  She also knew who He was but it was a sure-fire way of enticing Colin to talk.  He was like a clam that would only open with encouragement. Once he left her office the shell locked tight again and the cycle would repeat in a week’s time.  She had been trying to secure a daily or even bi-weekly programme for Colin. She believed it vital to his treatment that he not be given a chance to descend back into himself.
    ‘You know,’ he replied curtly. Colin did not like to be asked to repeat himself nor did he enjoy having to discuss the horrors that visited him every night.
    ‘I want you to tell me.’
    ‘No.’
    Lorraine could see Colin was beginning to become agitated at the questioning.  She wasn’t sure if he even remembered what they discussed in their previous sessions from one week to the next, but she knew it was definitely a sensitive area.
    ‘Are you afraid, Colin?’
    He looked at Lorraine, his eyes parting wider to reveal the bloodshot whites, showing how little rest he receiving.  The medication