Insane ~ Kimchay

3.

INT. NARUIKAKUTO ASYLUM, PORCHAY'S OFFICE - EVENING

Porchay unlocks the door to his puny office in the asylum. Simple and dark, the office has a desk piled with files, file cabinets along the walls, and a plant in the corner. The door does a good job of muffling the commotion from the
halls.
Porchay flips the switch, and the lights flicker on. he takes off his wet coat, hangs it on an empty chair, and drops the files on top of his desk before letting himself fall into the chair with a grunt. His desk is a mess of papers and candy. There are wrappers of candy bars and empty soda cans tossed everywhere. Under the
desk there is a mini fridge which Porchay opens and pulls out a cola soda bottle. He pops the lid on the edge of his desk, takes a long drink, and savors it.

PORCHAY
"Oii! Get caught in a storm and soaked to the bone. What a way to start off your day."
He grumbled in annoyance.
Porchay moves some reports around and picks a file up from the clutter.

PORCHAY
"Let's see. Who do we have First on the list?"
He looks at the file. It reads "Tawan" on the label on the tab. He tosses the file aside.

PORCAY
"Looking for crazy, not annoying. I'll kill myself if I hear another puzzle. What screwball do we have behind entrance number two?"
Porchay picks up a file with the label on the tab featuring the patient's name worn unreadable. The front of the folder has in red marker the numbers 2774 written across. The bold digits catch his eye. That folder was never here before.

PORCHAY
"Mystery date. Who are you?"
He gullibly opens the folder and his eyes widen at what he sees. Photos of a pale man, with dark makeup on his face, and cold, dead eyes. He was WIK MOONSHINE. Porchay gets a chill. A packet of photos slips from the folder. It documents injuries that he has acquired over time. With dates on the top of each image no more than a couple of months apart, the pictures show broken limbs and bleeding head wounds. All are transparent indicators of Fights and torture.

PORCHAY
"Gee, poor guy"
He somehow felt bad for the Guy. Porchay was engaged in the prints when a knock on his door startled him. A slender, tall young male opens Chay's door. He has a clean-cut look with glasses and a boyish, playful smile. Wears a black suit. His name is ARM

PORCHAY
"Jeez, AiArm! Scare me to death, why don't you?"
He growled at his friend who was chuckling at his reaction.

ARM
"Not my intention. So sorry. Korn came by my office."
He looked at the hanging watch.

PORCHAY
"That guy freaks me out"
Porchay suddenly got shivers down his spine.

ARM
"There are more terrifying things."
He looked blankly at him

PORCHAY
"So, why come here? Wait. I'm fired, right?"
Porchay was processing something.

ARM
"Excuse me?

PORCHAY
"Because I'm the culprit! You know, robbing lunches."
Arm chuckles.

ARM
"No, no. It's more of a promotion that awaits you"

PORCHAY
"Promotion? Whose ass did I kiss?"

ARM
"Korn is quite impressed by your work with Tankhun Supposedly the dude is hanging up his hat for good. And you're the one to thank."
He gave Chay some files about the progress of the patient He helped sometime ago.

PORCHAY
"You know he's lying, right?"

ARM
"Who Korn? "

PORCHAY
"No, the Diva. Khun is smart. A master of manipulation and drama. He's far from hanging up his hat. But he wouldn't think twice about hanging anyone else."
He knew something was wrong.

ARM
"Well, records show incredible progress and that's what Korn sees. He wants you to cultivate someone... more complex."
Porchay takes a long sip of his soda and reclines in his chair. He looks at the heap of files on the desk.

ARM
"Don't worry about them. Dr. Sat will take up the slack. You just focus on..."
He steps into the office and picks up the marked folder.

ARM
"Our star resident."
He hands the folder to Porchay who thumbs through the thick stack of papers.

PORCHAY
"Sat, my savior. Take me off the small fries and throw me in the pit of big guns."
He rubbed his temples.

ARM
"You're moving on up, Porchay. Just like you wished for. Korn has taken a liking to you."

PORCHAY
"Lucky me."

ARM
"Just read the file, go over the details, and tell Old Geezer what you think. Not too hard. Nothing to be afraid of."

PORCHAY
"Who says I'm afraid?"

ARM
"I know fear."
He started to leave Chay dumbfounded before shooting a smirk while exiting the office and
Closing the door. Chay looks at the folder in his hands and drops it on the desk as finishes his soda.

PORCHAY'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

A heavy rain barrages onto the yellow-lit, curtained windows of his apartment. It is a small living space crowded with bookshelves and file cabinets. There are many framed photographs of Porchay with various people including his guardian Porsche hanging on the wall along with certificates, awards, and degrees framed. A beat-up couch faces a nice, new TV. There were several Books stacked on the coffee table between the TV and the couch. The books all have the same theme of psychology and psychiatry. The door unlocks and slowly creeps open. In comes Chay, hugging a pile of files in one arm and a plushy purse hanging off the other forearm. Chay drops his keys.

PORCHAY

"Nice one, Chay"
When Chay bends over to pick up the keys, he pours the contents of the purse on the floor. Trying to prevent the spill, Chay drops his keys again.

"Shit Oh, come on."
Chay shoves everything into his purse and picks up the keys, closing the door with his behind. He drops the files on the coffee table, knocking several books over, and places his purse on the floor beside the couch. Chay sits on the armrest of the couch and allows himself to fall into the cushions of the couch with a sigh of relief.

"Home, sweet home."
Porchay finally looks at the files. A black-and-white photograph of a smiling mouth with a bruised and swollen upper lip. He stares at the photo and sits up. Chay picks up the stack of files and tosses the ones that do not interest him aside until he lands on the file with the red 2774. He sets it down on the table gently and opens the file to a flood of medical text.

"Why does he hate you? I mean, yeah, you killed, but why does he go out of his way to make you suffer?"

Porchay reaches under a pile of papers to pull out a TV remote. He turns on. The TV shows a muted news special with a splash graphic on the underside reading: "The Fright of Bangkok". The screen depicts an aerial view of Bangkok city with a tower burning. Several helicopters fly around the burning tower, shining spotlights on it. A shakey close-up of the terrace on the top of the burning tower, where a blurred image of a pale white, thin, with several prominent tattoos, a tall man in a black tank top WIK, dances alone in celebration. A black blur swoops from out of the shot and the man is gone. Porchay turns the TV off, he turns his attention back to the file. Chay turns a page, reading.

"What happened to you?"