Chapter Text
Phineas slumped tiredly against the grey expanse of the crumbling wall behind him, stiff cotton uniform rubbing grittily against his worn muscles. Tight leather restraints covered his bruised ankles, from many months of foiled escape attempts, and unplanned scuffles. A candle flickered dimly from through the tiny window into his cell, as the clanking of doors opening and closing reached his ears. Тhe wails of other prisoners pierced his sensitive eardrums, causing him to wince.
The clanking got louder as a set of keys jangled outside of the door, the handle twisting to reveal an ageing doctor, flanked by two muscular figures dressed in security uniforms, batons attached to their leather belts. The doctor peered down at Phineas, eyes alight with a cruel amusement.
"How are you feeling today, Mr Barnum? Any more... peculiar... urges?" he asked in fake kindness, a sharp grin etched onto his face.
"Let me out."
"You know I can't do that, Mr Barnum, not until we have cured you of your affliction."
"There's nothing wrong with me. Let me out."
"I can assure you, Mr Barnum, that we wouldn't keep you here without it being reasonable circumstances. It says on your papers that you are very clearly suffering from mental illness."
"Let me out."
"There is no need for that tone, do you want to spend time in our quiet room, or will you be quiet?"
"LET ME OUT!"
The two bulky men strode past the doctor, looming over Phineas like ominous shadows in his tiny room. A pair of meaty hands set about restraining him, as the other undid the cuffs about his ankles. Were they actually letting him go? No, they wouldn't. That wouldn't be right. His tiny glimmer over hope was squashed when the doctor came back into the room holding a straightjacket, the buckles and belts clanking together as it swayed in his grasp.
"NO! Please, no. I'll be good, I promise! I won't shout, I'll be quiet, please. Please."
The doctor gave a final nod to the guards, passing the straightjacket off to them, before striding out of the room with a cheerful, "Hope you improve your attitude, Mr Barnum!"
"Doctor! I promise I'll be better, just please, don't do this. I'm sorry," Phineas choked out, struggling against the firm grip of the guards, throat raw from pleading. His arms were roughly grasped, thick starched material being slid onto them as a guard buttoned up the back of the jacket, tightening the straps. The buckles were done up, leaving him with his arms crossed tightly across his chest, incapable of movement from his neck to his hips.
The guards heaved him up onto his feet, legs like jelly stumbling across the hard stone of the floor. His feet were bare, and covered in grime. They dragged him out of the room, ignoring the sound of his desperate pleading and apologies. Another door was opened, and Phineas was chucked inside, the door behind closing with a resounding slam.
As the last crack of light disappeared from view, he was plunged into an empty darkness, left alone to his thoughts and feelings. Never had he felt so alone. He slammed into one of the padded walls, pounding his head against it in blind panic at the thought of being left there forever, in the darkness.
Hours passed until he nearly passed out from exhaustion, sliding down to lay on the floor, head thumping. He then did the only thing he still knew he could.
He screamed.