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Asylum Letter No. 2
And when I looked out, I saw that we were heading fast upon a series of iron gates set in stone, wickedly arched and crowned with tall spikes of a radically varying height. But what unnerved me completely lay beyond the gates. A pair of wooden doors, massive, pointed peak towering over us even from afar. Bar-crossed and studded with heavy bolts, the doors were set in a great stone wall that appeared to be protecting whatever waited inside.
So paralyzed was I by the sight before me that I did not notice we had already driven past the first of the three spiked gates guarding access to the door beyond until I heard it crashing to a close behind us. A short drive onward and we were at the second gate. I turned to look behind me and saw the barricades we had passed clanging shut behind us, one after the other, by power of unseen hands, or simply through years of habit more accustomed were they to be enclosed than open. A quiver began in my toes and ascended through my frame, vibrating the marrow in every bone until it reached the back of my neck and froze there. Were these gates erected for the protection of this great establishment? For the security of these admirable administers of magical medicine? Were they meant to keep intruders out, or to keep the inhabitants in?
With each turn of the wheels that brought me closer to the final gate, I tried hard to drown out the answer to my question with whatever music I could conjure into my head. A sharp tug on the other end of the leather strap attached to my choking collar pulled me back into the world that existed outside of my head.
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