Hargonstein Asylum

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Asmodeus, Nov 11, 2009.

  1. [ame="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M1AvG0UkxBY"]YouTube- Kasabian- west ryder silver bullet (w/lyrics)[/ame]


    Doctor Hargonstein screamed, demonic wings flailing as he plunged into the pit of fire.

    "The power of Christ compels you!" yelled Benedict, kicking the doctor square in the chest.

    "You're too late. This world is mine!" roared the demon, spreading his wings upon the gantry.

    Benedict staggered to stand, coughing up blood, clutching his broken ribs.

    Benedict saw the demon, and knew this was the end.


    There will be emus in the zone.

    Dance! Dance!

    Dance...dance... dance.

    The asylum guards sway, their nightsticks tapping out a rhythm on the sterile floors. Left right, backstep, shuffle. They fade. The patients rise, all in white, mad hair splayed at aukward angles like their limbs. They spin and cavort, suddenly synchronising, then falling apart again.

    Bodies writhe, the stage is sensuous. Another pass of guards. Slide tap slide. We rise and pirouette.

    Their hands click in time, stooping as they approach, light upon ivory faces to the edge of the stage. In the back, the fat monster swirls, tangled in prison coveralls, moaning his delirium. Flesh has muffled all his cries, but on twinkletoes he turns.

    Rags and prison-ropes, ball and chain, passed from hand to hand around him. Over and under they dance, till they are wrapped.

    Clink of chain, the patients roll. There is juggling of pills, fingers drum on plastic food trays. The guards change hats and we come together. Take your partner for the dance and fit the straight jackets with loved embrace. Fix the straps, clip the buttons, we are set.

    Pause. The stage frozen. All is still....

    The ringmistress, resplendent in leather. She poses, her bosom barely contained, blonde hair tumbling from beneath her top hat. Oh beautiful she is, lithe and ripe to touch.

    He's my baby...

    The Egyptian orchestra soars, strings and brass filling the auditorium. We stir i time, majestic sweeps and straigtjackets trail from arms and legs. But the circus has already taken the stage and throw their fire and cartwheels. The monkeys perch in the corners, black... so very black... and watch us all with sinister calm. We can only scream behind them. Pyramids where the players stand, the Nile swells its sodden load, and echoes in the desert. A music box sits with the monkeys, ting ting ting.

    Tap tap, slide tap slide slide tap tap....

    The psychiatrists and consultants walk in two lines, curving outwards, spinning, feet struck upon the stage, glasses slide the bridge of their noses. In time they resettle, clutch clipboards to their chest, turn and move with corporate walk, beep beep goes the phones, answer, bridge slide the nose.

    The lion undresses his golden fleece, his every move provocative, the silk and satin falling. The monkeys find you and stare, so black so very black. You'll see them soon in chambers and alcoves, nesting in the chests of elephants who no longer care.

    Pause. The stage frozen. No one moves.

    They twitch, but stop again.


    He's my baby...

    Alarm bells ring... a riot.. a riot.

    The orchestra stirs to make the ceiling sway. The crucifix rises, trunks of wood lashed with rope, rising, lifting, straightening between the dancing fools. It catches on the stage lights, wreathed in red and gold, the spotlights turn their heads.

    A crucifix a crucifix, a cross of wood and rope. Almost there now. It's lifting, lifting, lifting, oh god yes, it's lifting. Clunk, it straightens, standing proud. It's there. The guards and patients and doctors and elephants come to help, the mound ecstatic.

    Almost there... the monolith rises. Almost there, almost there.


    Slam crash the patients and the guards beat against the walls, shaking the rooms of the asylum, rattling bars and hammering chairs. A riot a riot! We shake the walls. Bang, bang, the drums of madness and the circus tightrope. Bang bang, clash clash. The Eqyptians fold beneath the fire and the Ring Mistress smiles wide-mouthed in leather and lace.

    Benedict looked ahead, blinking as his hands and ankles took the weight of the nails. An icy breeze swept around the courtyard, mauling his half-naked body.

    Not a bad day to be crucified, when all was said and done.


    He's my baby...

  2. dont be a little shit mach, shut the fuck up and let me write.
    "why should you hold power over..."
    "FUCK YOU!"
    LISTEN, DO YOU WANT TO EXIST, OR DO YOU WANT TO...ah fuck the 4th wall bullshit, i was never good at it anyway.

    Mach crawled from rafter to rafter, the smell of....fuck. still in italics.

    Right, thats better.

    where was I?.....oh yeah, thats right, rafters.

    The Smell of mildew and rot infested the wooden planks, but Mach disregarded the smell (scratch my head, think for a while), his eyes on the lookout for weakness, in the crawlspace above each room Mach peered down into the lives of his fellow inmates (....wonder if everyone will take that as pervy or george orwell 'big brother' style) to ensure they all abstained from weakness, making mental notes of who spoke to who (Yawn.....i should go to bed now......nah fuck it, dont compromise the post for mere sleep.)
    and who did what.

    in one of the rooms, a simy, slipepry snake of a man was forcing a woman against the wall, a filth stained hand clasping across her mouth to stop her screams.

    Mach dropped down from above, his thick arms wraping around the rapist's head and chest, and the wiry man squeesed and twisted, one hand pulling left the other pulling right, until he heard a wet crack, and the rapist went limp.

    without waiting for a reply Mach clambered up through the hole in the roof and back into the crawlspace.
    (....woulda been better if that chick was still here, the psycho one...that was a good start. but alas, shit ahppens, one must move for.....fuckit. enjoy the post. SLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!)
  3. Bless...Now how did that go?

    Oh it was going to be one of those days. The floor was cold but the cot was gone and the muzzle straps were already bruising where they'd been pressed against his cheek for god only knew how long. There were no mirrors in this hell and no clocks and you never realize how disconcerting that is until you experience it yourself.

    Bless your heart-

    By the muffled cacophony of screaming, laughter and praying shaking the walls it sounded like Benny had managed to convince the Good Doctor (or maybe some other poor sap- the Good Doctor had seemed rather disappointed with Benny's last go of masochism) to crucify him again.

    Bless your heart but...

    Let's see, it usually took a good five minutes to find something appropriate to fix him to, and between five to twelve hours for someone to get sick of looking at him hanging around and another oh... hour to con someone else into taking him down. Which told Eddie fuckall about what time it was.

    Bless your heart but shut your mouth-


    The little red centipede (a thousand legs like post it notes detailing shit he didn't feel like remembering today) that isn't so small anymore leaves fire crawling across your skin where it touches you. Normally Eddie is all for that but the damn thing won't shut up this morning (afternoon/evening/deadofnight) and he's not up to a day of bad puns and Alice In Wonderland references. He's stiff and he's cold and the needles in his stomach are supposed to make the hunger go away but goddammit he needs a cigarette...

    Bless your heart but shut your mouth some things must not...

    To hell with the Good Doctor (right along with the rest of us yeah?) and his cold hands and hot needles and the attitude may be sexy as hell but more than any kind of bedside manor Eddie wants his fags back. He paid for them, twice over now, and if Hargonstein doesn't want him eating anyone else he'll damn well give back my pacifier.

    Bless your heart but shut your mouth some things must not be said out loud.

    His bones had broken in the night, in the dark and the cold and now his muscles screamed breaking them back into place as he rose.

    "I'd rather not think about that right now."

    And little loleta, left all alone-

    "Go be someone else's psychosis for a while yeah?"

    A gift! A gift I was- A love letter from that pretty pretty russian girl...

    "Who wasn't russian, by the way, but go ahead." Sometimes he wondered what ever happened to her. And then, he forgot. Maybe Eddie could endure a day of Vogon poetry. If he could find a smoke. He stretched, his shoulder popping back into place and stared the lock on his cell into sobbing hysterics. "'S'right. Have it all out kiddo." He tossed it over his shoulder where it shattered against the wall. "The world is listening."

    Bene has the goods.

    "I doubt it. How longs he been up?"

    Time is such a fickle thing...


    The halls of Hargonstein are not for the faint of heart. Fortunately Eddie's heart had fainted years ago ("...and every time I woke up pregnant!" Thanks grandma I really needed to hear that story...), shrivaled up and eaten itself in narsissistic facination. Now there was just hunger.

    Was the cafeteria left or bacon? A strangled scream pulled Eddie right. Maybe Old Rasputin had been generous to ninja him up some lunch?
  4. Wake up Daniel… Daniel…

    And he is roused from sleep by the sound of his wife’s voice. But there was no love here, in this place. There was no breakfast, carefully prepared this morning. There were no eggs; there was no toast, no coffee, black and strong, just how he liked it... No, this was a much darker, scarier place.


    He stood up, off of his thin cot, and stretched before walking out of his small white-washed room, stepping carefully over a red stain by the door along the way. Had that always been there? His memory wasn’t what it used to be, to say the least, and the stain looked as though it had faded considerably. He imagined it had been there for some time.


    He was outside of his room now, in the dark hallway.


    He started walking, although he couldn’t rightfully remember his destination, or where even this corroded corridor led.

    Daniel, what are you doing?!

    He tried counting the tiles on the floor of this place, but he was walking too quickly and his eye-sight was too poor... It was too dark, here.

    Daniel, no!

    He was very hungry, he realized suddenly. The cafeteria, that’s where he was headed! Now in which direction was that again?! Ah, he would kill for a proper breakfast!


    He stopped. No. There would be no proper breakfast in this place. There were no eggs, there was no toast, no coffee, black and strong... There was no love here.
  5. From the corner of the cafeteria she crawled out, her patient's gown stained and ragged, her dark hair hung across her face. She moved unsteadily, the limbs buckling as they tried to bend against the joint. But in time she stood upright, jerking, convulsing.

    Her head rolled back and she screamed, a visceral sound that scraped her insides and split the corners of her mouth. It echoed around the sterile white walls and rattled the bolted chairs and tables.

    Then, like poreclain, she fell apart. Her skin shattered like glass, broken into a cloud of dust and vapourous chemicals, which billowed around the room. The dust swirled and formed numerous smaller shapes, while the vapour condensed into tumbling streams of coloured liquid.

    On each of the cafeteria tables, little stacks of pills fell into place, while medicine pooled in plastic shot glasses.

    The cafeteria was set, and the first patients began to enter.

    * * * * *

    "Leave her alone, man."

    "Stay out of this!"

    "You got her, okay. You got her. She's sorry."

    "Oh no. She ain't learned nothing yet. But I'm gonna teach her. I'm gonna teach her real good."

    Benedict glanced up as the rat began the vicious rape, violating the pigeon on the cross-plank of the crucifix. Another rat looked on nervously and shuffled to the end of its perch, while the poor bird simply writhed, broken wings beating as it tried to escape.

    Blood dripped down onto Benedict's face, but he tried to ignore it. On the opposite side of the courtyard, he could just make out the roof of the Manson Wing, where he kept his notes. With tiny flicks of his eyebrows, Benedict wrote another line of text in the small leatherbound book lodged in the gutter-pipe. The book wobbled, twitching as its pages were inked from the inside. And then it settled again, standing up on its end and filing itself next to another three identical journals wedged between the rooftiles.

    Doctor Hargonstein was up to something... and Benedict was slowly figuring it out.

    Just a few more crucifixions... and he would be onto something.

    "Okay, that's enough! Leave her alone!"

    "You back the fuck off!"

    More blood trickled over Benedict's face as the two rats tore at each other, trampling the corpse of the pigeon.
  6. Eddie ran into-well, more stumbled across Daniel on the way to the cafe. The poor man looked as lost as Eddie tended to feel around here. There was something going on- like that noise you can't quite pin down as the fridge, and you're left hoping it's just your imagination playing tricks...

    "Hey, buddy, that's the wrong way. Foods the other direction-" He amended his statement, the smell of drying blood twisting his gut in a way he really wished made him uncomfortable, but he was too hungry to care- more than a little... "People food is that way. Comon' I'll let you buy me a coffee, then we can figure out who the hell's been playing with your pills while I was out, yeah?"

  7. Eryn smoothed her prison clothing, a simple dress too difficult for her slender fingers to rip material from. With a swish of her hair, she smiled winsomely at the guard as she left her little cell. Her bright eyes wandered the hall as she walked through it, but every day it was the same. A check list of sorts, and her mind whirred through it like a well-tuned machine, just one job in mind.

    Blades, no blades, no one ever gets blades here, but especially not me. The spoons are made of that material, and always spoons, so they can't be sharpened. And besides, they make you give them back.

    No fire, of course, the only fire there was happened when an arsonist at heart managed to find wood outside, what a delightful little cub scout he must have been, but somewhere he learned how to start a fire that way. She didn't know. Besides, there wasn't any wood.

    No rope, no cloth, nothing for strangulation. Her clothes were special, thick, and somehow she never could manage to get a single string from it. She was curious what it was made from, but none of the guards would answer her questions anymore.

    Deciding today was another hopeless, painless day, Eryn continued towards the cafeteria. Maybe she could try biting.

    With this buoying thought, Eryn breezed into the cafeteria, smiling at the usual prisoners. All old friends. Friends, acquaintinces. Was there a difference to her?
  8. Daniel shouldn't have been mad. His counting of the tiles on the floor was already made effectively impossible by his own impaired vision and the darkness of the hall, but why did his concentration have to be broken?

    Why Daniel?

    The arrival of this new man, his assailant, was most unexpected and unwelcome, but as far as Daniel could tell this wasn't even real. Everything was so blurry. To Daniel this man was nothing but a piercing blur, another fabrication of his troubled mind. Perhaps Daniel should have been grateful that he could still recognize what was real from what was manufactured by his illness, sometimes, but he only felt overwhelmed, and very, very alone.


    Oh sweet relief. The shroud of temporary sanity was lifted. Daniel felt better, not good, he couldn't remember the last time he had felt good (but then he couldn't remember much of anything). Was the blur still talking? Yes, and it wasn't as much of a blur anymore. Daniel's vision came into focus, revealing the man in front of him. How nice, to see another face here. Did the face mention coffee? Yes, Daniel loved his coffee black and strong. He wouldn't find it here, he knew, but somehow that was alright now. "Yes, let's go... cafeteria," Daniel muttered absently when the man stopped making noise. They walked together.
  9. Jenna's cell was unlocked but she didnt not move. She couldnt move. Her arms were still gripping the rails of her the bed she was rolled in on. Its oversized metal wheels with rubber grippings to slience them moaned as she tried to turn her head. She could feel only the cold as her eyes blinked incesently, matching the buzzing light above her.

    The hight ceiling made it impossible for anyone to reach them, and if the lights were almost burnt out who cared. The smell of food made her stomach lurch as she dry heaved but nothing came up. Only gagging and coughing erupted from her, making her stomach and back hurt.

    That pain woke up the rest of her that was strapped down. Feeling the rage from the night before rise up inside her, a scream exploded from her tiny frame and filled the halls and rattled the ultra thick cross-hatched windows of the cafeteria. Bucking and convusling Jenna's body bucked violently.

    'Just stop it, just stop it, it will go away, they wont know, they wont see, and they wont know, just stop it, dont make them come, dont make them come, please.. stop stop..'

    Rough hands gripped her legs and evil smirks filled her only line of sight, and that was straight up.

    "Ello, love, miss me ehh" Jenna couldnt stop blinking as a cold hand started to undo the straps.

    "No you scream again and you wont like me very much you hear" shaking and shaking the room spun as she was yanked into a seated position.

    'Dont move, dont move he will see me, dont let him see me you bitch, you fucking whore, he touches me again I'll kill you myself you understand me, you filthy little whore, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you'

    "there now, go eat and dont scream again"

    His eyes, thoses eyes, it was him, it was him, bite him, get him, do it, do it now, you worthless hunk of flesh, you stupid little brat, your father was right no wonder they raped you, your nothing, nothing but a hole to have shit rammed into over and over'

    Jenna started to dry heave and fell to the floor, gagging again hard on pure air. She had nothing left inside her to puke. Stains all around the cell, filled the air with what was her dinner, some of the many pills and shots they filled her with. Looking down at her gown she could see remants of the side effects as they liked to call them.

    "Ah, your worthless"

    'See he was right, you are nothing but a pile of shit, I hate you, I hate you, its all your fault, you little fuck' Dont, dont, just dont please. ' oh but i will, I will over and over'

    Panting and shaking the room spun on her as she moved under the bed and clung to its legs.

    'its not over you coward, its only just begun'

    [ame="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RU3HEEq4LtE"]YouTube- Five Finger Death Punch -My Own Hell (Official song)[/ame]
  10. Eryn's hair was seized from behind, a sharp and expert movement that pulled her back across the canteen floor. The smell of damp earth and stale blood filled her nostrils, and that was all she needed to know her assailant.

    "Morning, Miss Kindiade," spoke the sharp and stabbing voice of Doctor Hargonstein. In the corner of her eye, Eryn saw the director's face: austere, scowling, his hair and moustache immaculately groomed. "Just a routine inspection."

    She didn't move. The last one who had was grafted into the roof of the asylum conservatory, and plants still hung from his ribs to this day.

    <table><tr><td>[​IMG]</td><td>On Eryn's other side, a nubile figure appeared, bound in leather and veiled by a gasmask. One of the nurses who followed the doctor on his rounds. Swaying in erotic delirium, she handed a scalpel to Hargonstein, who quickly began work in short and precise strokes, slicing into the hairline of Eryn's forehead.<P>"I have high hopes for you, Eryn," the Doctor said as he cut her flesh. "Your last review went well. Keep this up and we may move you to Cerberus Wing."</td><td>[​IMG]</td></tr></table>

    Cerberus Wing. Everyone wanted to get to Cerberus Wing.

    The skin of Eryn's forehead flapped down over her face, and with delicate cuts Hargonstein peeled it away from around her eye sockets. Blood dripped onto the girl's lips and throat, but still she did not move.

    Taking a pair of tongs, the doctor ran a cotton swap across the exposed tissue of Eryn's forehead, soaking away the blood till only the raw bone of her skull was showing. He ran his finger across it, feeling the indent of words.

    The nurse passed in front of Eryn with the bloody surgical tray, and in the reflection of her gasmask Erin saw what was carved into her own skull.


    "Good," Hargonstein said in his usual clipped manner, throwing the tongs and scalpel into the surgical tray. He tore a clump from the nurse's head, fishing out a needle and threading it with the hair. With this he pulled the flap of skin back over Eryn's face and began stitching. "I'm glad you've stopped hiding things from me."

    Eryn winced as her flesh was stitched back to her hairline. In a few moments it was over, and the Doctor guided Eryn to her seat at one of the sterile tables where the medicine cups were set.

    "Now here, take your pills."

    And there he left Eryn, moving away to inspect the other patients, the voluptuous nurse sashaying after him.
  11. Musical Score: Bled for Days Static X
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    The rapist moved in closer, licking his lips and quivering with anticipation.

    dust falls from the rafters, which creak and groan slightly as something moves above him, but the Rapist is too intent on his victim, black eyed and brusied all over
    "dont think you can resist me" he muttered, drawing closer, savouring in her agony.

    a shape forms in the shadows behind him, slowly taking form just ouside of the flickering light, but yet again, the rapist still looks forward, his state of arousal joined to his victims growing fear and revulsion.

    hands reach out from the shadows, filth encruisted hands, dirt under chewed fingernails giving the hands a look reminiscent of a corpse.

    the rapist licks his lips again as the hands draw closer, the arms now in the light up to the elbow, large, muscular arms, covered with scarrification and tattoos.
    the Rapist runs his hands, immaculately trimmed and cleaned up his victims shins, her skin prickling and bile rising at her throat at sensation, her eyes now search the darkness, as if willing the filthy hands to move faster.

    "fear not my love" the Rapist chuckles, but by now the hands are almsot upon him, he forces his victims legs open-

    -just as the hands clasp down on his face, thumbs pressing hard into the sockets of his eyes.
    now it is the rapists turn to wail and cry with fear, as he is dragged into the shadows and up the wall, the victim hearing his feet kicking and hitting the wall, tyhe thums rising until there is a wet crack, and the body falls down into the light, followed by a large, bearded man, his inmate clothing encrusted with dust and cobwebs, he lowers himself down, so that he is crouching over the rapist, hands clamping down on his head, jsut as he stirs and moans something.

    the bearded man twists the rapists' head, one hand on the top of the head, the otherclamping down around the throat.
    at first the rapist stirs, but after a few moments of silence, he begins to gurgle and flail, but the bearded man is simply too heavy and strong to shift, the rapist's gurgling and flailing becomes more frantinc, but the bearded man simply tightens his grip.

    the rapist's mouth openes and closes like a fish, the victim closes her eyes, unwilling to look upon the scene any longer.

    there is the sound of tearing flesh, and when the victim opens her eyes a few minutes later, the bearded man is gone and her tormentor is still lying on the floor, massive bruises building around his neck where blood vessels and muscles have been torn apart, the eye
  12. [size=-2]
    Eryn smiled numbly as the doctor walked away with his nurse in tow. She had resisted movement until he was done, but now... finished. Eryn ran her fingers numbly over her scalp, eyes slightly glazed. It was a strange feeling, and she almost hated him for it, but the pain hurt so good.

    Eryn ambled slowly forward, curious as to what he kept examining in her flesh. Mellow and distant, she floated towards the cups and clasped one tightly in her hand, downing the pills in a swallow. Mmmm...

    "Hello, everyone..."
  13. Jenna's basic survival instincts kicked in making her stand and enter the crowded hallway. Over and over again she was walked into, shoved aside and even hit. Her mind was a wash as she blinked only once. Her eyes were raw. Days and nights no longer kept the same clock of reality.

    The ice cold floor seemed to be quick sand, for with every step she felt heavier. The noise was became a fog of chatter, screams and crying. She tried to shake it away but that only angered the voice within.

    'You do that again and Ill stab you in your sleep, you worthless whore. Go ahead, lets see who wants you now, you washed out little freak. No one wants you now, look into their eyes, they see nothing, you are a big nothing!'

    "stop it!" she yelled, but it was to late the angry voice had done its job and made her call out.

    It was to the wrong person. Some large man with a tray of food just looked at her as he walked toward his room. He wanted to slap her but in stead he spit on her. Feeling the spit land on her face with almost the same force as a slap, Jenna looked down and away as she felt the spit slide down her face.

    Entering the cafeiteria, Jenna had never felt more lost. She didnt feel hunger,she only knew the pain of dry heaving for hours. It was no longer a choice, it was a need. On some level in some strange way a part of her was forcing her to eat.

    Eyes washed over her like crushing waves. An aboandoned tray with cold food would have to do, she didnt have the will to move one more step. Sinking down into the bolted chair her eyes tried to remember what eggs and toast should look like. Was this it? Did it matter?
  14. The cafeteria was a stranger place.


    People sat, scattered across the room, sitting at tables.

    Daniel, is that you?

    Some of them muttered to others, or just to themselves, while others sat quietly, alone, and stared.

    Daniel, what are you doing?

    Daniel got his tray, slowly, dumbly, in a stupor, and sat down at a table. Was his companion with him anymore? Daniel shrugged. That was nothing more to a blur to him regardless. That's what everything was to him lately, at best. Daniel looked down at his tray. There was meat to eat today, how wonderful! Daniel almost smiled! He took the red, slimy substance in his hand and took a mighty bite (oh how hard it was to tear a proper piece, and, alas, he had no utensils)!

    Daniel, no!

    Blood seeped and dripped back unto his tray. The meat here was different. Did they cook it? It left a bad taste in his mouth. A blur put some medicine and a glass of water down next to the plate, and Daniel took both eagerly. He felt better, and ventured a look around the cafeteria. He made eye contact with two separate women at two separate tables, not far away. He looked to his left. Was that the man who had bumped into him earlier, sitting near him? So he was still here then? Daniels lips quivered, and he opened his mouth. "So, I am Daniel then, right? Who might you be?!"

    He would try to converse with this blur.
  15. Jenna's ice cold fingers locked in a bloodly curl slowly opened enough to grip the damp spoon resting near the dimsal plate of yellow and gray. Had this been someone's meal? Where had they gone? Were they sick? Would she get sick? What did they have?

    'They were dying in this very chair you flatchested whore. They left stains of being raped right under your ass.'

    Shaking the voice away with a jingling nod, a sudden slap blast her left side knocking her head foreward and to the side. Her lip quivering as her own hand slowly sinks back into place next to her still throbbing from the impact.

    'Do that again you little fuck and Ill slap you someplace else. That little warm place between your legs.'

    "Dont just stop it please, stop" Her voice floats away trappled on by all the movement in the room. All the random noise of voices mixed with laughter and screams.

    'Hold still. Your being watched. Eat. Eat now you fuck!'

    A muted spoon lifts to her chapped lips. Opening her mouth to the greasy yellow and white glob a lurch begins from deep within her stomach. To many hours between meals and now this immpossible internal abuse. Tears sting her eyes as the spoon touches her lips and into her body the wet, cold, eggs slide. Gagging and choking a hand clamps over her mouth as she is forced to chew. Nearly chewing on her own lip a stiffled scream shrinks back down her throat.

    Washing with spoon full after sloopy spoon full a hand jams food into her mouth with savage mercy. Choking and spitting up a few lost bits Jeena pants as her left hand pats her on the cheek.

    The spoon drops to the floor with a tiny chink. Shaking in her chair the room slips in and out of motion as a strange feeling starts to grow inside her. A distant warmth and creeps into every inch of her. Fighting off a sudden chill Jenna looks up.

    'Dont make eye contact with him you bitch. Dont look at anyone, dont you dare. I feed you isnt that enough?'

    Temping the voice her eyes fix on a man. He looks like a man or could he be just some guy? Why would that slight difference matter in a place like this? Could he be a man and still remain a guy? Would one slaughter the other? Tilting her head to one side thoughts scrambled for placement and meaning in her mind. Her eyes glassed over as the debate raged on and on. Ignoring the danger, mocking the shadow that grew at her side Jenna stared on.


    Knocked to the floor with a violent slam Jenna's body hit the floor. Cutting her lip as her teeth and lips curled trying to protect themselves. Jamming her teeth into the back of her lip blood gushed forth.

    "GET HER JACKET NOW GOD DAMN'IT BEFORE SHE KILLS HERSELF. WHO THE HELL LET HER OUT! YOU FUCKING BASTARDS THIS WHOLE PLACE IS GOING STRAIGHT TO HELL" An orderly shouted and waived his hands and arms around. Yelling at anyone and anything near him. Barking orders as other shattered minds fled to other parts of the room.

    Her eyes never left his face as the blow came with a unforgiving jolt. 'I told you not to look at him.'

    "He was worth it. He was worth it." The insults and debate kept her company as she was put into the jacket and hauled out.
  16. D-Daniel... what have you done!?

    Daniel didn't like this. He watched as the women, one of the women he had noticed earlier, was beaten down by an orderly, encased in an asylum jacket and dragged off. It all seemed to happen in a moment, here in this place where every minute seemed to last a lifetime, but what could Daniel do about it?

    Daniel, don't!

    His memory was poor, but he remembered enough about his past in this place to know that defying authority was not a good idea. People disappeared. Usually they didn't come back, but if they did it was in a state far worse than before, and they never lasted very long. So Daniel sat, and ate, and brooded. There were moments were medication was his worst enemy, and Daniel had significant enemies in this place. The medication here could send him into either euphoria or ruin, depending on what the orderlies fancied on giving him at the time. The euphoria was caused by losing touch with the bleak reality of his situation, and the ruin was the clarity of mind he was now experiencing. Now Daniel wished exceedingly that he could stop taking his medication, and surrender himself to whatever disease his mind was plagued with. He imagined that whatever disorder had landed him in this hell (he couldn't remember what it had been, now) had multiplied and grown into other disorders during his stay.

    Haha, Daniel!

    It was ironic, he thought, that he was only becoming more insane in a place that was supposed to cure him. Daniel looked down at his tray (eating might keep his mind busy), but it wasn't on the table anymore. It lay, upside down, on the floor a few strides away. Had he thrown it there in his despair? Had anyone seen him? Was the blur still standing beside him, keeping him company?
  17. Kicking and scream from the depths of her fractured mind Jeena is thrown into a padded cell and the door slammed shut. A tangled mess of matted hair and vacant eyes she lays on her side as her mind beats even more life out of her. Raking her of any and all thought. Her demons demand her soul as she shakes and jolts. Following not in the path of the light her thoughts slip away into the self distructive nature that landed her, here in the first place.

    Blinking in darkness she can feel it consume her. Laughing as its cold embrace sucks the life from even the marrow that clings to her withering frame.