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The riot
@murkoffjanitor
"Alex!" Shawn called out as he ran over to the janitor. "Thank God you're okay!" He hugged the man tightly. Blood that was oozing from a cut under his eye getting on his uniform.
A riot had started an hour ago. And it was still going on. And to make things worse, a black, ghostly entity was going around, ripping people from the inside out. Seeing Alex was a huge relief.
@secretkeeping-twins
Alex had seen the twins around the asylum occasionally, the woman, Ellen, bringing him files, while the man, El, would sometimes escort patients to him, but he never had any real reason to be suspicious of them.
That’s why when he passes them in the hallway as he’s headed off towards the lab, he doesn’t think twice, too occupied with finding the file he’s sure he had misplaced down there. He only hopes one of those other idiots hadn’t touched it...
@secretkeeping-twins continued from here
Ellen’s breath caught in her throat when he made those accusation, that she didn’t care…no no she cared immenisly. That’s why she was so upset that’s why she hated this.
She looked up at him, eyes wide with terror and hurt, “N-No Ethan…i-it’s not like th-that at all! I-I…I-I do care a-a-and I hate th-that I let myself d-d-do somethin’ like th-that ta ya but…I-I enjoyed it, how s-sweet ya were…but th-the doctors t-t-told me it was g-gonna stop th-this ain’t my choice E-Ethan please, understand…I-I’m sorry. I-I’m so sorry I-I…” She swallowed back a sob, shrinking a bit. She was awful, horrible, to have done this to him. “I-I’m so sorry…B-But please know…I-I…I do c-care…I-I’m just selfish.”
That look in her eyes, so scared and hurt... It almost makes him feel bad. Almost. But all he has to do is remind himself of what she had done to him for months now - pretending to be his wife all because some doctor wanted to fuck with him - and he could push away all those weak emotions. Maybe he wouldn’t have reacted this way a few weeks ago, before he became aware of the ruse, before he grew attached to her, but...it’s too late for that. He cared for her now and she doesn’t get to just walk away, not if he has any say in it.
He doesn’t loosen his grip on her arm, still holding her tightly, afraid she’ll try to run out his cell the moment she gets a chance to, disappearing down the hall and up the elevator never to be see by him again. “What you did before, pretending to be Nora...that was fucked up enough, but...you said you enjoyed it, you liked how sweet I was to you... That means you care for me, right? You wouldn’t be as upset with yourself as you are now if you didn’t...”
A Lamb to the Slaughter
@gxtt-im-himmcl
Mount Massive Asylum
She knows the moment she had spotted that sign, she should have turn and left and found another shelter, but with the storm raging on showing no signs of stopping, she decides to take her chances and go inside. The place looks abandoned anyway. What does she have to lose?
She proceeds through the gate and into the courtyard and hurriedly approaches the building, heading straight towards the main entrance, only to discover it’s locked. Of course it’s locked. Nothing can go right for her at this point.
She begins scouring the courtyard through the pouring rain and eventually finds a way inside through an open window a couple stories up. It seems the place had been under construction at one point or another before its abandonment so she’s able to very carefully work her way along the boards outside and reach the window.
Once inside, she slowly walks down winding hallways in search of another way out so she could leave as soon as the storm passes. The place is very dark, with minimal lighting to help guide her. However, it’s enough for her to see the blood and gore splattered along the floor and walls. It’s fresh. She can tell that not only by the texture and color, but the smell lingering around the place. This place is not as abandoned as she had thought and whoever is here is clearly dangerous. This is a bad idea. She needs to leave. Now. She could survive a storm, but whoever’s in here... She’s not so sure.
She immediately turns to head back the way she came, fully intending to climb back out the way the window and down the scaffolding. Sure, she had nearly slipped and fallen more than once, but she much rather take her chances with that instead of getting lost in this place.
She pulls out the knife she had tucked away in the pocket of her baggy clothing, flipping it open. It’s not much, but it could very easily be used to fend off an attacker if the need arose.
As if one cue, just as she rounds a corner, a person suddenly shouts and jumps for her. Without a second thought, she stabs them. Once, twice, three times… She loses count, but eventually stops when the person collapses at her feet. She’s breathing hard, as if she had just run a marathon, loud enough that she just barely hears the footsteps coming down the adjoining hallway. As if she needed any more convincing to get the hell out of here as fast as she can.
She steps over the body and takes off running, trying hard to keep her panic in check so she can run think rationally and backtrack.
Closed Starter for @gluskin-the-groom
Dangling between two guardsmen, Rowan appeared little more than a rag doll. A limp figure with a shaved head and baggy grey clothes, the image was marred by the blood trickling from a cut on her temple, and the rust streaks adorning her shirt and circling her wrists.
Fluorescent light stung her eyes as she took in the room, metal chairs circled the walls, all bolted the floor and all with strategic bars for chaining down "patients." It could be anywhere, but when she coughed and blood speckled the tile in front of her- she assumed it wad the infirmary. The only other people present were a black haired man and his own guards. Tossed rather unceremoniously into a nearby chair, she struggled halfheartedly as they chained her down, earning a smack to the head. Apparently satisfied she wasn't going anywhere, her own guards turned to chat with the mans, their grating voices a painful white noise as Rowan tried to think past the pain and fear that had been her constant companion. Lucidity tended to ebb and flow in this place, but despite the beating she'd taken, she still felt sharp. Leaning over to the man, she whispered a greeting.
"What are you here for?" An open question, she meant both why he was in this room, and generally in the facility. Perhaps from him, she could figure out where exactly she was. Not too long ago she’d been transferred here- but she had no idea where “here” was. Though from all the threats to “give her to the crazies” she could unfortunately guess as to what sort of facility she was in.
Altering Nightmares
@ridethebull liked for a starter
People liked to describe war as hell, it wasn't hell. It was pride, tragedy and humiliation wrapped up in a bloody bow. Everywhere Miles looked there was pain and fear, his camera captured every moment as if it was more precious than the kiss on a wedding day. People needed to see what was truly happening, all of it. Not just that sugar coated bullshit the mainstream media shoved down people's throats but the raw truth of it. The suffering child, the crying parent, the people torn from their homes and forced to fight a war that some of them didn't even agree with.
The others called him callous and apathetic but none of it was true, Miles just knew better than to show his emotions at a time like this. A hypocritical thought but his own, nonetheless. He covered his insecurities, his fear with snarky remarks and tasteless jokes. Dark humor was always the best for this situation. It didn't take long for his security detail to hate him and that's exactly how he wanted it to be. If he died, if they died... It would be easier to get over it. When the grenade exploded, everyone ran for cover but it was disorienting and confusing. Miles lost his detail somewhere in all the smoke and gunfire, narrowly missing a claymore stuck in the ground nearby. He was lost, lost and without a weapon to defend himself.
Shawn slowly turns around with wide eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching.
"Alex is being...WHAT?!"
@murkoffjanitor
Escape
@murkoffjanitor
Shawn was thrown against a wall by an inmate with more muscle mass than himself. The patients here had finally decided that enough was enough. They had started a revolt. And to make matters worse? The Walrider was lose.
Shawn's hand moved to the police baton on his belt, but was punched in the face. He guessed he deserved that. Standing by for so long while the patients suffered.
But he wasn't going to let himself be killed. He was picked up by the neck, powerful fingers squeezing his throat. His own blindly searched for his baton. Once he found it, he gripped it tightly and pulled it out from its holster.
With a single motion, he struck the inmate in the side of his head. Dazed, the inmate dropped Shawn and staggered back. Shawn raised his baton again and hit him in the head over and over until he collapsed. He wasn't dead though, just knocked out.
Shawn took a step back as he rubbed his throat. Marks from where the inmate had his hand were starting to form.
"Alex..." He called out in a raspy voice. He coughed, moving away from the body. "Alex...!"
Where is he?
