The Renfield Syndrome by Clifford Beck - HTML preview

Chapter 62

Paramedics were thoroughly briefed, being told that their patient was diagnosed with schizophrenia with possible delusions of vampirism. In some clinical circles, this rare feature is referred to as clinical vampirism or the Renfield Syndrome, leaving those afflicted as especially dangerous. But with its sedative effect lasting for roughly twenty to forty-five minutes, the paramedics would have to be prepared to give repeated injections in order to keep Caspian under control. A call was made to Fulton State Hospital, and arrangements were immediately prepared for his admission. By the time the ambulance arrived, Caspian had received four injections of the sedative and was just coming into awareness and beginning to stir as the monster within him growled.

Nurses, doctors, and psychiatric technicians gathered around as Caspian was rolled into the hospital's receiving area. His chart was quickly reviewed, and he was admitted to the unit for violent patients. So as not to allow him to injure others or himself on what might be in the room, he was placed in a quiet room. With the typical padding covering every surface, the staff was quick to transfer him from the stretcher to the room. There, he would lie on the floor until the sedative wore off and he was calm enough to talk about his condition and what led him to where he was in life. Meanwhile, police had been conducting an investigation starting with the driver’s license they found in his wallet. With this information his past began to uncover itself, and Caspian was quickly connected to the two murders that had taken place near his hometown. By this time, Caspian had come to a conclusion. Between the violence he had committed, the movies he had watched in his youth, and the fangs that adorned his teeth, he came to the belief that he was, indeed, a vampire. The monster had finally been let out of Pandora’s Box, and Caspian no longer existed.

It wasn’t that his capture was the result of some mistake but that he indulged his craving too often, allowing himself to become visible. Shortly he heard a small crowd of voices just beyond the door of the quiet room. All three were psychiatrists, with the older man likely being the attending physician supervising the other two. The topic of their conversation was their diagnosis of his condition.

“So,” one voice said. “Where are his parents?”

A young woman and psychiatric resident provided an answer. “Father’s unknown,” she said. “Mother died under suspicious circumstances. Since his mother’s death, he’s been in the care of foster parents just outside Johnstown, New York.”

Now, the attending physician made what they all agreed was a valid suggestion.

“I think we need to find those foster parents,” he said. “They could provide some insight into his behavior. Do we know if he had a psychiatrist?” He also suggested the police be assigned with the task of locating them.

“Contact the foster parents as soon as possible,” the attendant said. Rising from the floor, Caspian slowly made his way to the small window placed high on the locked door. Peering through it, he saw three doctors clad in white coats, each holding a copy of what he assumed was his chart. Feeling she was being watched, the female psychiatric resident suddenly raised her head, prompting him to duck back to the corner he had been sitting in. “So,” the attending began. “Any ideas on a diagnosis?”

The other two fell into a brief state of thought as they pondered the possibilities.

“Obviously schizophrenia,” the young woman said. “But those teeth—it looks like he had them filed down to points. It’s as if he believes he’s a vampire.” Heads nodded in agreement as Caspian jumped to his feet, angered by their doubts as to what his true nature was. “You stupid cunt!” he screamed. “I am a vampire! I’ll bite off your fucking tits!”

The three doctors briefly wrote in his chart.

‘Possible rare feature of

schizophrenia—clinical vampirism.’ “Okay,” the attending said. “Let’s work on finding those foster parents. And since it’s getting to be towards morning, let’s open that window vent and get some sunlight on our patient.” They never stopped to separate fact from fiction, that sometimes one can become what one believes oneself to be.

The young woman reached over to flip a switch wired to a small window. The window itself would not open, but the vents covering it would allow streams of morning light to pour into the room. But as soon as the vents opened, a loud scream was heard, prompting all three doctors to position themselves at the window, aghast with what was taking place. Jumping to his feet, Caspian screamed as he begged for the vent to be closed. The young woman reached for the switch again but was stopped by the attendant.

“Wait,” he said. “This could be part of his illness.”

The doctor could not have been more wrong, and within seconds the screaming stopped as Caspian exploded into a heavy cloud of ash. Standing outside the window, the doctors were startled into a wide-eyed stare as the young female doctor, overcome by such a shocking sight, turned away and vomited profusely. The attending physician rushed towards her, catching her as she began to lose consciousness. Sitting her on the floor, he placed her in a sitting position with her back against the wall. “Call the emergency room,” he commanded.

It was only minutes before the emergency room staff arrived as the attending physician informed them of the events leading up to their arrival. As they tended to the young woman, he walked back to the quiet room and, looking through the window, saw a layer of ash scattered across the floor as well as the walls and ceiling. His mind struggled to explain what he had just witnessed.