Wayward Insane Asylum

[k-michelle412]

Monica groaned. She had to stay in this infirmary all night and she was fairly certain it hadn't been properly cleaned a few years.
The light shined into her eyes made her wince and left her momentarily blind as her eyes adjusted back to the artificial light in the small office.
At least Chris was being kind. He didn't make any snide remarks as she knew the other doctors would have and for that she was grateful.
"Couldn't I just stay in my room? I'm fairly certain there's a doctor next door." Hopefully Chris would go for it. She really didn't want to stay here. Monica gave her best puppy dog look she could muster as he wrapped her head and gave her an ice pack. "Thank you." Monica said once he was all finished.

 

[Namora]

Elissa Kay LaCroix
Number 6313; The Six-Faced

At Elissas loss of attention on Mosaic she didn't catch her small voice speak, Alice came around and the two exchanged a few short words. Even after only a short time knowing the girl Eli knew, though it may have only been a feeling, that the red haired girls smile never seemed to wane. Somehow her smiling made Elissa want to do the same, as she returned a slowly warming grin to Alice she felt the small girls hand curl around her own. She blinked once in surprise and glanced down at Mosaic, catching sight of her frown and gaze falling on Alice. Her eyes then turned toward her and the child tugged on her hand, "I wanna go play."

Eli blinked and opened her mouth to speak, but Alice was the first to pipe up, her words followed with her small giggle. Eli paused a moment, slowly trying to take her hand back, and then spoke, "Well, uh... sure. Let's play. What should we--"
Again the girl was interrupted, this time by a staff member who drew closer to them with a large smile stretching, almost unnaturally, across her features, "Excuse me, girls. It's time you go find your new rooms on the West wing. Remember, whatever number your new bracelet begins with is the floor you'll be staying on."

Eli nodded once after a moments hesitation while Alice complained in a way that somehow reminded her of 'Dora the Explorer's Swiper and his 'Awww man'. To be fair, a kids television show certainly fit with the roux, considering Eli had never seen anyone older than seven with such a happy-go-lucky attitude, let alone someone who pulled it off. The thought made her smile a tad bit and she suppressed the urge to grin broadly.

As the Orderlies walked on and escorted less stable members out and away Eli pondered what to do. Should she invite the two of them to walk with her and drop them off or simply go off on her own? It would probably be faster if she simply went on her own...
It was then that a voice called over, a tall brown haired male in a white coat summoned Alice over to him.

The girl brightened somehow and then dismissed herself,
"Hehe, sorry Eli! Dr. Vurren wants to see me! We'll be able to play tomorrow! You should get to your room, I don't want my new friend getting in trouble!"
She nodded, the authoritarian tone she held lost to her. The black haired girl smile and waved, "Oh that's alright Alice. Let's meet up later I guess."

Eli glanced at the one who had ushered the red-haired girl away. Tall and confident with a relaxed, professional air about him. His charisma and general physical appearance made him attractive to a wide variety of people --in various ways-- yet to Eli he was just another white coat who would provide her with no assistance. She tore her eyes away and then knelt down to Mosaics height, "We'll play some other time, okay? I'm going to head out. I'll see you soon"

With that she lightly pulled her hand away, stood and turned away. As Eli made her way toward the exit and pulled open the door she heard Alice speak in her giddy tone, "I made a new friend Doctor!"
Eli caught the last few words as she left the room and then headed for her old room to retrieve her more important belongings. In Elissas place there wasn't really much to see, a few books scattered around, a lamp which she knew she couldn't take with her.

The sheets would probably be replaced but she gathered them up anyway, using the pillow case to carry her small pile of six, rather fat, books. Each one was worn to the point where pages could easily fall out if they were treated too harshly, and so she gently packed them away and placed them near the door. She looked around one last time before going to retrieve one last thing at her bed.

A journal.

Eli sighed and reached into the torn portion of her mattress where she hid the small red book. She held it for a moment and sighed. Truly, diaries weren't her thing, but the other day they'd given her a kind of... tasking. She'd been instructed to write none the less and though she was still certain she was perfectly normal she figured if she listened to them, they would realize it too and get her out one day. She paused for a moment, and then opened it to her last page.

She felt something drop in her stomach. This had to be a sick joke. There were three entries aside from her own. At a glance at the first one that followed hers was elegant and curved smoothly, the handwriting was more flamboyant, round and large. It was different from her regular type, where Elissa tended to write in all capitals, yet in a manner that was small, as if she was saying 'Don't notice me'. The girl began to read but stopped.

Elissa didn't read over what it said. Truthfully, she didn't know if she wanted to. She glanced at each, but not for very long, and eyed the little cross at the bottom of each page before closing it and packing it away. A quick glance from the doorway told her there was nothing else to grab from the barren room. She hadn't been at Wayward long enough to truly get settled, and her unease at the place itself had also played a hand.

She glanced at her bracelet and began to migrate to floor six. It wasn't long before she made it, using one of many stairwells in the massive building. The climb was followed by walking through the halls and eyeing doors with paper on them until she spotted her own. When she did she came to a halt and her grey eyes glanced over at her room mate. The girl blinked once and then smiled, it looked like she and Alice would be lucky enough to have one another.

Unless of course there was another patient with the name Alice in these parts. In any case she turned the knob to her new room, walked in and went about placing her things on her own dresser. After throwing her sheets on the bed and fixing it up she sighed,
"Now what...?"
She glanced at the washroom door which stood ajar, and in that moment she caught a glimpse of her reflection...​

 

[Red Rabbit]

William- an Orderly, stared at Caleb Norwill, a struggling soul refusing to see that his own demise was close at hand. It saddened him to see the man refuse the wheelchair. His fingers, had they been affected by frostbite earlier in his lifetime or was it something else all together that discolored the tips? His brows furrowed. How could a man be so calm when it looked like he was going to leave the world at any moment? It was truly unsettling, but what was even worse was that Mr. Norwill believed he could walk through this building without some sort of aid. "I can see you don't need it," The Orderly replied with a halfhearted smile after Caleb had walked a few paces, gesturing to it anyway as he continued. "But who doesn't like a ride in a wheelchair? I won't strap you in." William listened to another comment. "Doctor Friedmont was supposed to administer my drugs." His face turned pale. "But she never came." Dr. Friedmont? Wasn't that the woman who was murdered here some time ago? He must not have been told... "I see. We'll get you back on your medication by tomorrow morning, if you could tell me your name I'll be able to find your file a lot quicker." How long had this man been suffering?

 

[Sir Basil]

Caleb looked at the orderly, and was shocked to see that their eyes met, that there was a moment of connection between the two of them. Caleb realized that the man could actually see him, rather than look through him. He missed that feeling. The feeling of being seen, the feeling of being real. Arthur held up the neck of Private Soren, fingers pressed against his jawline. The knife was in his hand, but he wouldn't use it. His machine gun wasn't far away. In that moment, with Private Soren staring up at his face, wondering if he would kill him, as he had killed all the others, something happened. In that moment that Caleb held Soren's life in his hands, he was suddenly the most important person in the world. In that minute, he was seen not only as real- but as a god, with the ability to give life and take it away. But Caleb had no gun, no knife. There wasn't even a ballpoint pen. Caleb was not the most important person in the world to this orderly, he was only barely real, only partially there.

Caleb got the sense that the orderly was mocking him. The man didn't think he was strong enough to walk, and had wrapped it under the pretense of enjoying a ride in a wheelchair. Who would enjoy such a thing? Maybe children would. But Caleb hadn't been a child for a very long time. His exact age was a mystery to him, but childhood seemed distant, only preserved in long ago memories. He was stronger than he looked. He wasn't entirely broken. He had walked in and out of his cell, he had the strength to row in the darkness, the lantern swinging wildly, illuminating the faces of Arthur and Caleb, smeared together in a barely recognizable blur. Caleb stared back at the orderly, his blue eyes unblinking and steady, the only thing steady about him as the patient stepped forward. His calves shook and his toes rocked. Although his shoulders shook, he kept his bent spine as straight as possible, his meager height still unimpressive , but marked with an enduring, underlying pride. Even here. Even in this hellhole.

Caleb made it as far as the wheelchair. In that short distance, it looked almost as if he had been possessed by something else. That pride, that refusal to ask for help or back down -- there had been determination in his face. But as soon as the distance was closed, his shoulders hunched and trembled, and he had to slam his wrists down on the arms of the wheelchair to keep himself from toppling over. His calves twitches and trembled - the remaining ruined muscles trying desperately to keep him upright. His white hair hung infront of his face; whatever pride had coloured it was now gone, that much was obvious. Butt the expression beneath the hair was impossible to see. Words emerged from behind the curtain of hair. They were flat and cold, deprived of life and purpose. "I dont know my name." He said in hushed tones, "But..." He waved his wrist. The clink of metal against bone echoed in his small cell. His number caught the flickering fluorescent light and gleaned. Caleb wondered if that number felt important, if the way it caught the light and the orderly's eyes made it feel like a god. He wanted to believe that it did. He wanted to believe that some part of him could still be seen in the same way that Soren had seen him.

 

[Punmaster]

Reiner waved with a smile at the orderly who was walking away and had finally gathered his papers. But Reiniers smile was forged, either the orderly knew something and he lied or no one really could say what the hell was going on in this sinister place. Reinier thought about it, if he was involved in something he probably wouldn't have said it to the patient of an insane asylum, especially during their first conversation. He felt more awake now and had his mind set on cleaning his new living quarters, one speck of filth at a time. He first wanted to make the furniture set-up impeccable, he would do this by lining up the beds on opposite sides of the room so when someone entered, me, they would appreciate the mirroring corners facing each other. Yes that'd be nice.

He picked up his sheets and backpack and walked a short length through the dull hallway, no one was really walking around, he had to have been either early or late, hopefully early, I can get started on the room and have it tweaked to perfection before my new roomie even gets the chance to step inside. He thought he should try to have a good attitude about the roommate situation. Maybe he has OCD too! Reinier thought gleefully. He began imagining them having hygiene contests and fighting over who gets to clean what. Reinier stepped up to the door, his name, beside a 'Mr bouley' were printed one above the other. " Room 50 " An even number, Reinier smirked. Could this hour get any better?

He reached into the side pocket of his backpack and pulled out a tiny, moist tissue that smelled faintly of cleaning products, most weren't fans of the smell but it gave Reinier a slight rush. He wiped the knob, circling around it, digging into its small crevices, and cleansing it of dirt specks. Finally he turned the knob and stepped inside.He scanned the room. Another project, just as I expected. He carefully began to make his bed, tucking every loose end in, making every ruffle flat, matching every corner of the sheet with extreme precision. Although this cot-making was rushed, it took him half an hour, he had to be 'lazy' today if he was going to have time to get to the rest of the cleaning. He laid his back pack ever so gently on the stiff compilation of rigid cloth that he called a bed, and unzipped the top. Reinier spread its contents out, his 'personal' belongings consisted of:

• A Few Sponges [Mint Condition]
• A Roll of Paper Towels
• An Extra Set or Two of the Wayward-Issued Uniform [Optional to Wear, Thin White Pants and Shirt)
• About a Dozen Unused Rubber Toothbrushes [Bendy so They Cannot be Broken and Used as Weapons]
• A Small Hand-Held Brush and Dust Pan [Set]
• Toothpaste
• Undergarments [I Shalt Describe Them]
• A Bag of Blue Rubber Gloves
• An Apron, Along with a Bandanna Featuring Symmetrical Symbols [His Personal Cleaning Uniform]
• A Crap Ton of Floss
• A Poster of his Role Model [Mr.Clean]
• And a Few Other Sponge Variations

The things Reinier had mysteriously acquired were mostly stolen from custodial carts and found under the bathroom sinks spread across the asylum. When Reinier felt it was necessary he would scavenge below the sinks, although they never had a whole lot to offer. He had gotten all of his supplies from the two previously described places, that is, everything except for the poster. Staff usually knew exactly who the culprit was yet rarely said anything or penalized him. How did they know...? Well, when Reinier rummaged under the sinks he would steal, then rearrange the remaining bottles and supplies in flawless organization. Renier at last commenced the room-refining. He began with an intense sweep of the room and bathroom then continued with scrubbing the grimy floor corners of the rest of his chamber. So much to do. He knelt down, his face was very near to the wall. He started with tiny vigorous strokes using one of his many toothbrushes fragile tips, they were getting more tarnished by the second. While cleaning he imagined himself honing Mr.Clean's many skills.

 

[Red Rabbit]

"I dont know my name." William stared in disbelief at the man who couldn't even recall his own name. Alzheimer's? "But..." The sight of the newly issued bands gave him hope. "That's a start." He tried to keep his smile up, but it was faltering under the circumstances. There was shock, surprise, and sympathy mixed on his face. The Orderly reached forward slow enough to not startle the Patient and lightly grabbed his frail wrist to read the number on the bracelet. 8398. He'd be on the eighth floor. "How about we get you settled in your new room?" He released the man and quickly tacked on, "I'd feel a lot better if you let me take you in this." His palm lightly tapped the handle on the wheelchair. The statement was true, William wouldn't let him walk up the stairs alone and it would be unbearable to watch the man walking up all those flights.

 

[Sir Basil]

Caleb stared back at the orderly, and then tilted his head in the direction of the one thousand and ninety five red-smears on the wall. They were his anchor, a compass to guide his actions and a chart to plot his future by. His fingers twitched on the arms of the wheelchair. His eyes flickered underneath his curtain of hair, and he began to slowly raise himself up from the chair, with his arms twitching, the muscles spasming strangely as he. The patient stumbled over to the wall, and placed his palms against the smears, and he could feel the cold cinderblocks beneath his hands. He pressed his cheek against the smears of his own fluids, and for a moment, closed his eyes, surrendering himself to the dream. He had not left this cell - other than today - in almost three years. It had been his home place. His place of refugee, where he hid away from the rest of the world, and all of the people who wanted to hurt him - all the people who were interested in seeing him fall, seeing him die - seeing him crucified upon an altar made of half-smoked cigarette cartons and diffused bomb shells. He shifted his head against the wall, pressing his forehead into the grout between two of the cinderblocks.

He inhaled deeply, and he could feel the puncture wounds in his lungs flapping as he took that breath. Arthur had been stabbed twice when he had wrestled each of his squad-mates to the ground. They had their combat knives on them and two of them landed hits - one knife on either side of his ribs. The first had come from Ethan Kingston and the second had come from Maverick Rhodes. He remembered their names. He remembered the blades in his stomach. All these memories were so much clearer than even the memory of his name. He reached a hand down to press against his ribcage, to hold his body together and keep him from leaking out all over the floor, keep his organs in the interior. He could have slipped his entire hand inside the puncture wounds and pulled out a collection of assorted tissues, but he didn't. He just stayed there with his back facing the orderly, head against the wall, and he tried to remember the number of smears on the wall. There were one thousand and ninety five of them. he would have to make them again, on the next room he had. He needed them. Those marks made him real.

He opened his eyes. For a moment, he saw nothing but cinderblock, but then he turned on his heel, and walked - hobbled, really - towards William. His eyes were downcast and his hands wrung his wrists, and tugged at his fingers with a strange, nervous energy. As he moved, a few clumps of his blonde hair trailed behind him, like tumbleweed int he desert. His hair fell out in long, brittle and dead strands. Caleb was certain that it was because of the malnutrition. Or it was punishment - punishment for having dared believe that he was a Prince - a Prince with their long blond hair and their blue eyes, with the fair skin and enigmatic smiles that ran in the family in the way that other family's had a history of diabetes or lung cancer. He did not look at William. He did not flash him that enigmatic smile. He stared blankly at the filthy linoleum floor and his equally filthy feet. "Do I really have to leave?" he mumbled. But he didn't wait for the orderly's reply. He simply stared down at the wheelchair and took a long, slow inhale of oxygen. He then, sat down in the chair. He was tamed. he was cooperative. And in his head, he dreamed of Erthan's and Maverick's knives puncturing him over and over until there was nothing left of him but a bloody mess.

 

[Andalais]

"Alice, listen to me."the doctor sighed as he grabbed a hold of the girl's right shoulder. He cursed himself for having to reject such an offer, but although it was tempting, he knew it would mean risking to lose Cateline and potentially other interesting minds. "I need you to do me a favour, alright? Whenever someone is being mean or unhappy, and you feel you want to help them, talk to me instead and I will handle it. Okay? You just focus on making yourself happy, and let me take care of the others. Can you do that for me, Alice?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
​

Carefully tip-toeing through the empty hallway, Jill felt her heart starting to pound as she approached her new room, even more so when seeing that the door stood open, and she could hear someone inside? Was it her new roommate? God, she hoped not. She hoped it was just an orderly doing whatever in there, even though she knew that was unlikely. She felt she was not ready for this, but when would she ever? She started digging her short nails into the cardboard box she was carrying, filled with all of her drawings, and with a painting stacked on top. This was the first of several turns she would have to go in order to get everything from her room transferred. And now came the moment of truth when she would most likely meet whomever she was going to share a room with for who knows how long.

Coming ever closer to the door, Jill's steps became shorter and shorter and more and more silent. She slowly peeked through the door, and immediately inched back as she saw a young man sitting on the floor...scrubbing it...with a toothbrush. She slowly pushed her head forward again, just barely making the right side of her face visible as she peeked in. The room was organized in perfect symmetry, the sheets of both beds strained like drumheads - drop a penny on them and it would bounce forever. There definitely seemed to be something off with this young man, but he didn't really look that dangerous. Then again, neither did a lot other people in this place, and they'd tear your face off with their teeth.

Taking a deep breath, Jill mustered what bravery she could and inched a little further while putting the box down on the floor, exposing more of her face while putting her hand on the edge of the opening. "H-hello?"she uttered, her heart nearly skipping a beat as she came to the point of no return.

 

[Rune Alchemist]

"Awww, You're no fun doctor." Alice playfully huffed, sounding for the first time, perhaps a little unhappy that he rejected her advances. "I suppose since you asked I can try~!" She knew the doctor also liked helping the other people here, so she saw no problem with letting him do that - though she still would like to have one just in case a patient was being mean and the doctor wasn't around. "Is that all you wanted? I wanna go see who my new roomate is."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

"Well, it's not like I can force you to stay here, I'm just giving you my recommendation, Miss Lawrence." In truth, if she didn't stay it would be better. He'd have more of a chance to go investigate things and not get caught doing so. If she stayed, there was a good chance of her discovering him missing sometime tonight. He couldn't appear eager to get her out of here though, it would raise suspicion and he didn't need that. "I think you should - concussions are serious matters and could be dangerous if not taken care of properly. If you do, then all I can say is take it easy and don't over do it and go straight to bed."

 

[Andalais]

"Well...there is one more thing..."Jakobus mumbled. Should he really say this? It sure was an exciting idea, but if he got caught with it, he wasn't sure if he would get fired or just reprimanded, but both would interfere with his research. What the hell, he thought, it's not like he would get another lifetime to take chances. "Is that offer of yours...still open?"he asked as he looked Alice in the eyes, a sly smirk appearing on his face.

 

[Rune Alchemist]

"Hehe~" Alice playfully giggled, getting what most would consider uncomfortably close. "Trying to take advantage of a little girls friendliness are you doctor? That's not very nice~" However, she didn't give him much of a chance to respond. As soon as she finished that sentence, she placed a kiss right on his lips, silencing anything else he could want to say. The kiss was only for a brief second, just long enough to give the doctor a taste of what he wanted. Obviously, this wasn't her first time doing something like this. She was blissfully unaware of the consequences this could have on both of them, even if she was, she probably wouldn't care.

 

[Red Rabbit]

Orderlies were swarming over on the West Wing, desperately trying to get Patients together in the correct rooms before nightfall. It was already nearing the late afternoon as the last Orderly in the play area escorted Mosaic out, missing the interaction between Jakobus and Alice by mere seconds. "Come along, come along. You want to go see your new roommate don't you? I'm sure it'll be just like a sleepover!" They rambled on to the girl as the door swung shut behind them. "What's your pretty bracelet say?"

~

William shook his head as he watched Patient #8398 caress the stained wall. It was painstakingly obvious that the marks held meaning to him, but what that meaning was remained unbeknownst to the Orderly. He could hear him inhale, it sounded ragged and labored to the point it might be causing physical pain of some sort. He couldn't help feeling like this man didn't belong here, though no matter how sane they seem, it doesn't mean that's what's best for their safety or the public's. The hair that fell caught his eye and for a moment he considered that he could be dealing with someone who had some form of cancer. #8398. That number would be remembered so he could find the file for this decaying being. "Do I really have to leave?" William kept silent. The answer was obvious as he pulled the wheelchair backwards from the doorway and turned it around to head for the elevator.

 

[Andalais]

"What can I say, I'm only human."Jakobus said with a grin, looking into Alice's eyes. As he looked at her, his thoughts travelled back in time, back to Cape Town. He had a wife once - Emene. She married him because she was in love with him. He married her because he wanted to have a normal life. He knew he wasn't normal. He never knew love, it was an eternal mystery to him. But flesh and its lusts - that he understood perfectly well.

 

[Rune Alchemist]

Alice kissed Jakobus again, this time much more aggressively. She didn't really have any deep meaningful reason for doing this. She had just always been...a bit more active than most. Perhaps it was part of whatever 'Illness' she had. She didn't put much thought into it, she just did whatever made her feel the best. And this, just happened to be one of those things.

"Want to go someplace....a little more private?" Alice asked between kissing him, her voice sultry and hot, clearly ready for whatever they were about to get up to. Personally, she would like to get down to business here and now, but she understood some people liked to not be watched doing such things.

 

[Red Rabbit]

"Hey!" An Orderly shouted at two Patients bumming around on the fifth floor, both of them on the ground. One was laying on the floor and the other sitting against the wall. They simultaneously turned their heads to look at who it was. "Get going. Go to your rooms." Staff really did treat Patients like kids. The pair got to their feet and headed to the stairwell. There was an uneasy silence as they were trailed by the man who had yelled at them. He turned and left them at the sixth floor which left another flight of footsteps echoing to fill the quiet between the two. "Later," the black-haired Patient muttered then exited on the seventh floor. The two didn't know each other well, but everyone was familiar with someone else in one way or another at the asylum. After ascending another flight, the lone being walked down the massive corridor on the eighth floor. There weren't many people up here yet, so hopefully whomever their new roommate is wouldn't be around for a while.


The Orderly who got off at the sixth floor paced the hall, raking his fingers through his hair with a groan. Today had been a long one, but it was far from over. He spotted a female standing in a room through an open doorway. Upon closer inspection he noticed her gaze was directed to the small washroom. "Is there something wrong?" He had poked his head in then knocked on the door only after asking the question to the distracted Elissa LaCroix.


Luke checked the bracelet that read 7639. What a grand opportunity this whole roommate thing was for the twenty-seven year old. He'd not only be in a larger room, but he'd have the option of getting another slave-boy for the collection. Oh, the possibilities were endless in a little locked room from eleven PM to seven AM. There'd be plenty of time for nightly activities. A devious smirk crossed his features as he scanned over the sheets posted on the door. Room 34, 35, 36, 37, 38- aha 39!

Floor 7 - Room 39
Kira Nightingale #7013
Luke Bevarius #7639​

He raised an eyebrow at the name Kira Nightingale. He hadn't heard of it before, so it was definitely something of interest. Without wasting more time he shoved the door open, excited to meet his roommate to say the least.

Luke Bevarius

On the eighth floor, Adrian rubbed the back of their neck. They weren't sure what to expect, and they definitely weren't excited over these arrangements. The mostly silent nineteen year old frowned at the hallway full of disorganized people. There were so many rooms that went on and on, how long would it take to find their own? "E-Excuse me?" The tone was shy and quiet, almost too low to be heard, but it was enough to catch someone's attention. "How... How do we know which room we're suppose to be in?" The other patient had grumbled incoherently and scratched at the side of her already bleeding face before shouting, "The papers, look at the papers!" Adrian flinched and quickly thanked them before hurrying down the hall. They had started at the back end of the floor and had to work down towards the lower numbers. 96, 95, 94...

Adrian Glitch

 

[Obscurity V.]

A pair of white stilettos heels clack against the pavements of the dirty floors in W.I.A. The sound were slow and snappy, as if the one making the sound was in no rush whatsoever. Her white coat swishing and swaying behind her as she walked and her interesting bleach white hair; which was wavy and had beads at the ends along with music note adorning her head, was also swaying with her rhythmic steps. A small smirk graced her features as she made her way to the Playroom. While she walked, her inner demon began to feed off of the darkness of the place. Every corner she turned was just a figure of the dark abyss. Even her associates seem to have a black cloud over them; and she loved it. A shudder slightly wrecks her hourglass figure and slowly her hands trail up her body and cupped her face as fingers sprawled about on her cheeks. Slowly her pink tongue slithers out and licked her slightly full lips in a circular like motion. "Oh, this atmosphere...so delicious...The darkness is like cake with cream cheese icing. You just have to lick the wonderfulness. Then devour the cake itself!" A lovely and rather sickly laughter rings about in the empty hallway as she walked.

A wonderful memory began to resurface in her mind as she could now remember the day she killed her dreadful family. The poxy and annoying bunch of idiots didn't even see it coming when she fully "snapped," as most would say. It all started when she was young...maybe 8 or 9? Her parents told her that she was mentally not stable and should be watched carefully when growing up. Her parents didn't seem to believe the counselor but told their daughter the counselor words anyways. For seven years her dumbass family believed that there was nothing wrong with her. That she was alright and that nothing was wrong with their oldest daughter.

They were so wrong.

Because on that day, seven years later....she killed them all. How? Well let's see if she remembered the memory correctly!

~*~
​

"Mommy...Kim won't leave me alone! And Mike is taking my stuff!" Vendetta literally growled out her last words to her Mom. But like usual her Mom wouldn't fucking listen to what she had to say and simply raised her hand and backhanded V. The impact sent V to the floor and on her ass. Shaky fingers touched the forming bruised and she slightly wince at the pain. Her damned Mother was wearing sharp rings and tore through V skin. Red irises began to unfocus for a second and her black pupils dilated to almost pinpoints. Kill them all! Rip them to pieces V! Kill...Kill..Kill...KILL THEM ALL. Confused now V blocked out the yelling that was coming from her Mom, and laughter from her little sister and brother. Her Dad, being a drunk was passed out on the couch sleep. V slowly began to rise to her feet and laugh. It wasn't the soft giggle of a girl in love or laugh that is sounded out from a hilarious joke being told. But a bone chilling laughter that made the room freeze, the laugh made V chest rapidly rise and fall and made her tilt her head back to let it out even more. If it wasn't so dark in the living room, for a moment, her Mother thought that a dark shadow was taking form of a person behind V. But this wasn't fantasy, this was real. Quickly V hand found the lamp and she screamed while smashing it into her Moms face. Yes! That's right! Kill them all! KILL! The lamp smashed and possibly fractured her Mother's cheekbone, and as quickly as it happened her two siblings ran to their room crying.

Now her Dad decided to wake up and become sober after seeing his wife bleeding on the floor and screaming from the broken bones in her face. Glaring at his daughter and slightly stumbling he tried to make his way to her and slap her but V was already running to the kitchen to grab more weapons. "V, you fucking bitch! How dare you hit your Mothfer! Get your ass back here!" He stumbled but quickly walked to the kitchen but found no V in it. Glancing around he wearily checked the kitchen. Seeing no one he then turned around to go help his wife but was meet with his oldest daughter and a knife in his eye. The knife was six inches long and sharp to the tip. Crying out in immense pain he thrashed around and fell to the ground withering in pain and discomfort, he pulled on something and turned on a saw blade to cut turkey or thick meat and found it sawing into his throat. Blood squirted everywhere and all he could do was gurgle. He gasped, but not from his lips, but rather his throat, slowly he began to bleed out. And eventually died. V began to blink as the blood dripped from her face...she couldn't believe that she killed her parents. Well...one of them. Job isn't done yet! "I-..I killed him.." Killed them all V! "N-no...hahahaha..why? Wait...no....yes!? Haha such darkness...kill them all? Wait no...nononnonononono. No killing!? Yes killing!? Haha!" V grabbed her head and screamed a blood curling scream then cut her dead Father eye out and out it in a jar, slowly she made her way to her Mother and stabbed her in her neck with the already bloody knife. Her Mother tried to gasp but the blade plunged deeper and deeper into her neck. Blood pooling around her neck, as she tried to stop her daughter but slowly darkness overcame her and she died. Slowly V rises to her feet and licked the blood from the knife, then quickly ran to her brother and sister room after carving her mom's eyes out and putting them in a jar. The door opened slowly to their room. V then entered their room to only be met with screams of fear. Oh so slowly..the door to her youngest siblings room closed..and all hell was met for the little ones...

~*~
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She got away with those murderer saying that someone heard her being abused and barged in to save her from her Dad but admitted to defending herself from her Mother and killed her. When the police asked why her siblings were killed she simply told them, crying, that the guy killed them to satisfy his thirst for virgin blood after killing a tainted one. When the cops asked where the eyes were at, she told them in a hysterical voice that he took them then fled. When asked why she survived she screamed a, "I DON'T FUCKING KNOW! JUST FIND TH-THE ONE THAT KILLED MY FAMILY!!!!" And she cried, but boy did they buy it. And she got away with it. She faked the kick in door because their door was already kicked in before so that was good news, for her.

Years later she began to work at W.I.A because of her loving of darkness in these people.
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Now here she was, walking the halls of this very place. It was an shithole, but she still loved it. Slowly she opened the door to the Playroom and smiled at the few patients and her associates that occupied the room. It was a happy smile, because of their craziness, but a smile nevertheless.

"Hello kitties! What a wonderful day it is! Teh heh!"<3​

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[Punmaster]

Had this place ever been cleaned!? Reinier scoured the previously dark-border between the wall and floor, it was now revealing to be a tan, almost white color. Through all of his inner reflection he hardy noticed a small feminine voice being forced from some individuals lips " H-hello? ". The voice seemed as if someone was holding a gun to a girls head and would shoot if she didn't introduce herself. Reinier began lifting his head, he expected to see a frail little girl asking about methods to clean her nearby [recently-inhabited] room. He jerked back about half a centimeter in shock when his icy blue eyes fixed upon a... man?

Despite the males more experienced mannish features, he might not have hit puberty yet? No, maybe the man was mocking him. Nope again, the expression on his face seemed genuinely nervous. It might have been avoidant personality disorder, Reinier could only guess. He decided to leave it for another time. Judging by the box the man was holding this was his new room. " Hey, John is it? " Reinier said with a hint of confusion in his voice. He remembered the name written on the sheet which hung on his door. He waited for a response while wiping the sweat from under his bandanna which was firmly tied around his forehead. Cleaning with such intensity does that to a person. He dried his hand on his white apron. the two articles of clothing combined [bandanna and apron] formed his cleaning ensemble.

 

[Andalais]

The doctor gently pushed Alice off of him, mostly to be able to talk properly and without her lips upon his for a moment. "Come with me."he said, his mouth forming a smirk. It held an element of seduction one would not expect from him. With that, he walked past the girl, lightly tugging at her wrist for her to follow. It was still only midday - the time to move was not yet, and so, his room was still his. With that, he started leading Alice through the corridors of the asylum, him with a detrmined smile with hidden excitement underneath; her, with a sultry grin. It was an odd sight, but he ignored any and all attention they drew to themselves. If need be, he had talked his way out of worse situations.

Before very long, the two were standing outside Jakobus' private room. There seemed to be no one else on this floor - they must all be busy moving the patients around further up. He opened the door, showing a room inside quite different from what Alice by now was used to, even if it was still quite modest. Three drawers lined the liter half of the left wall; a large mirror and a wardrobe lined the inner half. In between was a wooden door with "WC" written on a small plastic sign in large, blue letters. On the right wall was another wardrobe, a table with an empty coffee cup, a deck of cards and a radio, and next to that was an old flatscreen TV, probably first generation of its kind. In the very middle of the room was a large double bed with a black spread and white and dark purple pilows, all spread about in disarray.

As Alice looked at the bed, Jakobus once again put his hands on one of her shoulders and turned her towards him. He looked at her with another of his seductive smiles. Aside from friendly and interesting, he had never noticed how attractive the girl was as well. He took the initiative this time, planting a soft kiss on her lips as he wrapped his arms around her body. It did not take long, however, before he turned less...civil. His efforts in the kiss intensifed as he started feeling up Alice's body while at the same time guiding her through the door. When they got through, Jakobus diverted a hand to close the door and then lock it. And suddenly, they were completely alone, with all the time in the world for each other.

What happened next was, as they say, history.

~~~~~~~~~~~
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"W-well...kinda...almost...yes..."Jill murmured, now more out of shyness than fear, as the man before her seemed somewhat civil. As she spoke now, it was clear that she was deliberately making her voice lighter in order to sound more feminine. "Well, not really, in a way..."she continued. She figured that if she was going to live with this man, she might as well introduce herself properly. "Split personality. I'm...I'm Jill."she said, her voice again falling in a murmur, as she felt it failing her.

 

[Red Rabbit]

A Nurse was heading to the stairs when he spotted- heard, Miss V, one of the very few staff members who actually enjoyed to be working in such a place. The clicking of her heels was a bit annoying, but that was probably due to the fact he had a headache. He peered around a corner and watched her hands trail up her clothing from behind her. "Oh, this atmosphere...so delicious...The darkness is like cake with cream cheese icing. You just have to lick the wonderfulness. Then devour the cake itself!" What kind of statement was that? Rather than approaching the... very odd woman, he continued down the intersecting hallways to the door for the stairs. He couldn't criticize her too much, not after the things he's done at Wayward. His stroll down the stairwell to the first floor was slow and precise. He made sure his footsteps were silent and placed the heel of his sneakers at the ledge of every stair while using the wall for support instead of the yellow, metal railing.

Upon reaching the first floor, he went directly to one of the office doors and knocked five times in a rapid motion. "Come in!" the voice rang with expectant joy from the other side that gave him the chills. Following the order, he opened the door and stepped inside, shutting it behind himself then locking it as usual visits required. "What terrific news do you have for me today, Gabriel?" The man sighed before he replied to them, "There's been two Patients who were sedated and placed in padded cells. One bit the face of another in the play room, the other was found slamming their head against the walls. What should we do with them?" There was a long silence, and during this time Gabriel looked around the room. Two paintings hung on the wall behind a large curved desk, each perfectly in line with everything else in the room. On the desk were three large computer screens, each angled towards the person sitting behind it and concealing their face. Everything seemed too surreal.

"Who are these Patients?" Gabriel tore his eyes off of the wide filing cabinets that had three drawers with two locks on each of them. Who needs that many locks on a filing cabinet? "Um, the first is Cateline Bloom, second is Olivia Garrison. They were placed in cells five and eight." There was tapping from the keyboard and a few clicks of the mouse before another response was given, and it was clear they were smiling, Gabriel could hear it in their voice. "Keep them under sedation until those new installments are finished. They should be up and running within a day or so." The Nurse cleared his throat before deciding to ask, "What are those things anyway? They look..." He couldn't finish his thought without suppressing a shudder. "It isn't your job to know what they are. Your job is to comply with what I tell you to do or you get thrown in jail for murder." He could only nod and mutter, "Yes, of course." before leaving the room. With that threat looming over his head, it'd probably be for the best if he didn't know anyway.

 

[Sir Basil]

He was pushed through the halls and pushed through the elevator, but the patient in the chair didnt seem to seem them. His blue eyes stared at the walls, but he didn't register the mad scribblings of patients or the charts and reminders that doctors had helpfully tacked to the walls. What he saw instead were cavern walls and the cave and rock formations that littered them. He saw boxes of grenades and handfuls of shrapnel, medical kits that had been carefully tucked between military issued meals and military issued boots. There were too many boots. There were sixteen boots, eighteen pairs, and they each had belonged to a now long dead squadmate. Arthur had pulled their boots off of them when their feet had stopped twitching, and he had carefully arranged them in a gradient according to size. None of them fit him, and he did not know why he had taken them. Maybe it was because these boots were some way of keeping the people alive, the memories of the people he had killed would haunt these boots like ghosts, and he would be able to talk to his dead friends again. Arthur had loved them. Each and every one of them, he had loved them. And when he killed them, he did not regret it but he did feel something in his chest expand and contract; the muscles that kept him functioning internally broke down. With dead friends had come the knowledge of his own death and that made his heart hurt. So he cut it from his chest using a tattooing needle and got rid of the one part of him that made him weak, the part that made him mortal.

Caleb stared unblinking at the patients as they rolled by in a haze of colours and sounds. It was hard for him to see any of them. He caught their features as he passed, but not the whole of them. He saw yellowed teeth that had been filed into points. He saw a head of dirty brown hair, and the eyes that glowered beneath the bangs. Caleb saw endless amounts of patients with bandages wrapped around their wrists, and he saw one going at hers with a nail file, trying to rid herself of the things that held her life in balance. He sympathized with her, but his own bandages were tatters. He hadn't tried to kill himself in a long time, and he realized now that such an effort was pointless. Nooses wouldn't go around his throat, and paperclips wouldn't open his veins. He did not think that the universe wanted him to die, and he supposed that was for the best. God did not want him to die, not yet. He was not able to commit suicide because he was not meant to die. Not here, not now. God did not want him to die in this place - and Caleb could understand why. If he died here, there would be nobody to mourn him, and his death would mean nothing. They would have thrown him into a cremation unit, and his charred bones would be carefully filed away. Secretly, he hoped that his sister would come to rescue him. He wished she would walk in, with her blonde hair pulled back away from her face, showing her blue eyes shining and proud, and she would sign the form that would lead to his release.

He had been waiting for her for three years, and she had never come. But god, how he wanted her, how he wanted to see her face and know that she was there, know that she could help him. He wanted to see her skin, clear and pale, reflecting fireworks on the Fourth of July. Caleb missed her. He missed the outside world, and he missed his family. He did not miss his father. Not in the traditional way. He missed the way that his father had tried to help him - before he stopped trying at all. But he resented the way that his father had forgiven him, despite everything he had done. He recalled the way that his father's eyes had flickered with the memories of Agent Orange and kids with necklaces of human ears. But Caleb didn't ever hear those stories. He just heard about what his father expected from him, as a general and a war hero. He never heard anything but those expectations. The wheels on the wheelchair creaked. They launched him back into the present. Into the chair, with the orderly pushing him down the hall.

Caleb lifted his head, looking up at his orderly. His blonde hair fell away from his eyes. He smiled in a thin, frightened way. His hands were curled into claws on the arms of the chair. He was clearly trying to be brave, trying to put a strong face on it, but the facade was slipping away and instead there was only this broken thing. "Where are you taking me?" he said hoarsely, voice choked. His calendar was gone now, many floor beneath them. He had to remember that there were a thousand and ninety-five marks on the wall. He would need to make them again. There was another thing he was afraid of. He had seen people, he had seen their faces and they had seen him. In those moments, he was important. What happened when they forgot him? His voice came out strained, "You won't forget me again will you?' He asked, but he already knew the answer. People saw him for a moment. And then they were gone. And so was he.