Madhouse Page #5

ketchup, ketchup.

Got you!

- Who are you?

- It's Clark.

What did you do to me?

Where am I?

What's happening to me?

It's okay.

Sara, look at me.

I work with you at

the hospital. Do you remember?

Look, I think you forgot

to take your medication.

Take a couple of these

and it will be better.

- I'm sorry.

- It's okay.

I just can't figure out...

what's real

and what's a dream.

Come on.

Come here.

All right.

...coming to the area

late today...

bringing along chances of

thunderstorm and low temperatures.

And now, for more informations

on our top story...

lets go back to Peter Garcia.

Sheriff Johnson warns

that the escaped suspect...

who was detained

on suspicion of murder...

should be considered

armed and dangerous.

He's known to go by

the alias of Drake Anderson.

Anderson is 5 foot 10,

has dark brown hair...

and sports the tattoo

of a spider on his neck.

Anyone with information

leading to his capture...

should report it to

the Kirkside Sheriff's Department.

- What happened?

- Thank God you're okay.

- Someone killed Dr. Morton.

- What?

I'm scared. I don't know

who to trust anymore.

- Drake got out.

- What?

I heard it on the radio.

He escaped last night.

If it was him, then

he's probably long gone.

They searched this whole place

with a fine-tooth comb.

That investigator wants to

ask us a few questions.

Not now. I'm going

to talk to Franks.

- What?

- I'm going to talk to Franks!

Open the goddamn door!

Franks, I know you're

in there! Open the door!

Jesus!

- It isn't Drake.

- What are you talking about?

I asked the cops and they said

he was arrested 20 minutes ago.

- He stole a car in Dallas.

- I'm leaving.

Wait, wait.

I don't know

what's going on here.

Come with me if you want,

but I'm not staying.

Okay. Okay.

Wait, I'll go.

Come with me to the office

and I'll grab a few things.

Come on.

I want to be

sure security...

can keep the patients

locked down.

They won't be safe here.

Nobody will be safe here.

I'll tell Betty we're going.

Fine.

But make it quick. I want to get

as far away as possible.

I will.

We'll be okay.

Nothing will happen with all

those cops hanging outside.

Here.

What if it's not a person

doing all this?

- What do you mean?

- What if it's like Morton said?

What if something

happened in the building...

and it's never forgotten?

Clark...

it was a person.

And if it was a patient,

they're all in lockdown.

We're fine.

Now go back. I'll just

finish up around here.

- It's right in front of your eyes.

- Clark, are you there?

Right in front of your eyes.

I just can't figure out...

what's real

and what's a dream.

I was diagnosed

with schizophrenia.

Sara.

Thanks for your help,

Officer.

Also, I have

a list of patients.

I'll leave it in a red folder

in my outbox.

Not a problem.

You have my cell number.

Okay, all right, thank you.

Why did you drug me?

I just gave you a calmative.

You were acting

really strange.

It was you.

I should've figured it out

the other night when you had...

your relapse.

You're wrong.

Ben told me the answer was

right in front of my eyes.

- Who?

- Cell 44. Ben London.

He must have seen you the night

you killed Nurse Hendricks.

That's why he told me the answer

was right in front of my eyes.

There's no one in cell 44.

- Don't lie to me.

- It's used for storage.

You were the one

who told me...

never to trust a schizo.

I can prove he's there.

There you are. I've been

looking for you.

Is something wrong?

Ben!

Ben! Ben, what's going on?

Why didn't you

tell me it was Sara?

I'm going to let you

out of here.

So you can get

someplace safe.

But I want

to see your face.

I suppose

it's time to go home.

That kid I keep seeing

running around the halls?

It's a little strange that

he runs around here at night.

Maybe your surroundings

are starting to affect you.

I'm not crazy, Sara.

Now you know what

madness feels like.

That's a feeling

you'll never forget.

Hey, good looking.

We've got work to do.

Boys are not toys, Les!

He was the sickest patient

that I ever come across.

There you are. I've been

looking for you.

You need to teach you

some respect!

What I'd love to do is change

this place for the better.

That's really why

I came here.

Betty, go to one.

Have my car sent around.

Where are my keys

to the medication?

Never mind.

'This letter

is in regards...

to the tuition fees for

Clark Stevens' internship.

Since his

unfortunate death...

we'd like to arrange

a refund of payment.

Please contact the

administration office.'

'Ben London, diagnosed...

with chronic multiple

personality disorder...

escaped January 8, 1989.'

- Hi, Dr. Franks.

- You!

Clark, have you

lost your mind?

It's Ben!

- It's Ben London!

- Ben London.

Do you remember me, Al?

That little boy?

The one that you

and Hendricks...

and all the others

never once tried to help.

Ben London.

Listen, I can help you.

It's too late

for that now!

Help!

Hello?

I'm at Cunningham Hall.

I'm in the basement.

There are cops outside.

Help me!

Come on, Sara.

You're as screwed up

as I am.

We belong together.

Come on, darling.

Get up out of the corner.

You're making me crazy.

- I didn't do anything.

- I know. It's just that...

I came back to this place...

to get rid of memories

I had here.

Unfortunately,

you're now one of them.

But I'm just like you.

I'm so sorry...

but I can't leave

any loose ends.

Ben, I can protect you.

I found your file.

I took it...

and I'm keeping it

safe for you.

Where?

We can both go away.

They won't even know

you were here.

Clark.

Clark's not here,

anymore.

Clark doesn't even exist.

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