OOC The asylum lights flickered down a hallway on the seventh floor in the East Wing as Cateline went to investigate a gurgled scream that had reached her closet-sized room. All the patients had started out in separate bedrooms to avoid any sexual behavior between them earlier in the year. The doors were to be locked at 10 PM every night, but the girl had gotten lucky and discovered the lock was broken a few weeks prior. After that, she had snuck out whenever she pleased despite the security cameras that monitored the main corridors. If the security tapes were ever checked, Cateline would probably be spotted in most of them, roaming in random directions and marking off the bottom corner of all the walls by chipping the paint away with her fingernails. She preferred exploring the less traveled pathways that were rarely cleaned and usually had too many spider webs for her comfort. The source of the sound was difficult to find, but it wasn’t long before she stumbled upon a fresh corpse face down in its own blood. The sight was enough to make anyone with a normal conscious cringe or scream, but Cateline only stood there, silently debating on what to do. It took half of a second before she came to the conclusion to investigate it for herself. There was a soiled medical band around its left wrist, which was enough to tell anyone that the victim had been a patient. She couldn’t read the print on it without her glasses and upon lifting the head by the deceased’s hair, she discovered that the throat was slit, the eyes had been gouged out, and the nose had been cut off; all missing but nowhere in sight. There was nothing she could do or say, so she simply turned around and went back to her room for the night. That was about five months ago and the number of disappearances had drastically increased since. Rumors about murder conspiracies began, but it was not started by Cateline’s mouth. The body she discovered had been removed and the hall thoroughly cleaned with bleach. It was never announced to the rest of the patients that someone died, but the staff didn’t seem bothered by the murder that was committed. Did they even know? If they didn’t, who was it that cleaned up the gruesome crime scene? Today, all of the patients and staff members were called into a room referred to as 'The Play Area' on the fifth floor to be addressed about new rules. Someone had overheard that all the patients were to be moved to the West Wing where they would be assigned a roommate, and every person in the facility would be tagged with a number to keep track of them. "What a bunch of bullshit!" Cateline exclaimed as she was escorted at an arm’s length to the room by an Orderly who knew better than to touch her unless necessary. Most of the patients had already been in the room once she entered, but it was just another fact she couldn’t care less about. It was far too early for her to be out of bed at 9AM. It was like that every morning. She never wanted to get up and be near other people, so she complained until it annoyed everyone within earshot. "Why can’t I just go wait in bed and have one of you summarize everything for me? There’s no need for me to be here and the room is far too fucking crowded anyway, I mean come on!" They just want you to suffer. Suffer, sufffer, sufferrsuffersufferrrssssh... She grabbed a fistful of hair closest to her scalp and pulled for a distraction from the voice that was turning to static in her ears. With the roll of her neck and a loud huff, she awkwardly began to squirm through the crowd of patients and staff members while doing everything in her power to avoid physical contact.