ONE|LYCANTHROPE

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Today was the day

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Today was the day.
I had heard a murmur between inmates, that today was the day. That meant that the psychiatric examiner would be paying each of us a visit to assess our mental state, and wether we were viable for release or not.

But we all knew that the rumour of release was bullshit. No one ever left Penhurst, except for in a body bag.

'-And what a fine mental state we're in' She scoffed sarcastically.

'Shut up, your the one that got us into this mess in the first place!' I hissed, if she hadn't told me to... then they would all still be alive...and we wouldn't be in this huge fuck up right now, with the high courts looming over us, threatening me with an increased sentence of eighteen years for the lives we took.

Although, as I was deemed 'mentally unstable' my sentence would not be held in a prison, but in a lunatic asylum.
-Penhurst lunatic asylum.

'They disrespected us!' She growled, her claws digging into me, making my head throb, "They deserved what they got, and worse.'

That's the thing you see... They didn't deserve it.

Deep down I knew that it was wrong.
I knew it was wrong, but yet I never once tried to stop her.

Because I was just as bad as she was.

Even if I tried, I would never be able to stop her.
I could never control, or understand her all consuming hunger for dominance.
-Or her lust for blood.

My cell door slid open with a screech and a lanky, women adorned in a tight black suit stepped into the room.
Her fitting pencil skirt and pristine cream blouse looked out of place against the filth of Penhurst. She held a clip board in one hand and a small silver key in the other, and her tight-lipped expression was meant to intimidate.

But it didn't scare me.
-Instead I scared her.

I must have looked threatening...dangerous even.
Thick metal bands covering my neck and ankles, my strait-jacket had my arms pulled across my body in an uncomfortable fashion, restraining me to the chair. An imposing black muzzle completely obscured the bottom half of my face.

"Good afternoon Amelia, I'm doctor O'Connor, your psychiatrist." She plastered on a fake smile and pulled up a chair, but she didn't sit, insted she remained standing, her dull eyes crawling over my body. Close but not too close.

"As you probably know by now, I'm here today to assess your sanity... Now, I have heard you like to bite so when I remove the muzzle, you will remain still and calm." She droned, striding towards me brandishing the tiny silver key.
I remained silent, watching...my narrowed eyes assessing her every move, learning her patterns, her strengths and vulnerabilities.

So that I know when and where to strike.

She walked with a slight preference to her left leg, and I could tell that she was right handed by the way that she held the key up to the muzzle in her right hand.

The lock clicked open as she cautiously removed the muzzle and returned to her seat, sitting and delicately crossing her legs, as if not to crease her skirt.
I narrowed my eyes further when she remained silent, watching me with unblinking, hauntingly pale grey eyes.

The voice in my head hissed and snarled, I could feel that she was on edge, a vile mixture of anxiety and rage pouring out of her, she was outraged by the doctors presence.

"I can tell you have a lot of anger" She finally said, slowly writing something down on her clipboard.

"Is that so?" I spat, I had met people like her a million times.

They thought that there was good in this world.
They always thought they could change me.
They thought they could fix me.

I didn't need them.
I didn't need anyone.

To rely on someone, was to be weak.
To care was to be weak.

Love was suicide.

I could never trust anyone enough to love, everyone I ever cared for either rejected or left me.
Doctor O'Connor lent forwards in her seat, propping her elbows on her knees.

"I know you're not crazy"

This caught my attention, by far the most interesting thing she had said as of yet. I raised my eyebrows at her and relaxed deeper into my restraints, I had to act calm, to show emotion was to show vulnerability, which she would surely use against me.

"Oh really?" I smirked, she had no idea who she was dealing with.
She didn't know the true extent of my crazy.
She didn't know about the voice.
She didn't know about the blackouts.
-She didn't know anything.

"Amelia, I am going to tell you something and you're not going to believe me at first, but I promise you, you're not crazy" she sighed pinching the bridge of her nose.
"I can explain why you hear... voices... and why she has so much control over you."

A laugh bubbled from my throat, a thick guttural sound that ricocheted off the white stone walls. She had obviously read my file.

"Please, do tell"

"Amelia...you're a Lycanthrope" She said, studying my face for a reaction.

Nothing.
No reaction.

-Was I suppose to know what a lycanthrope was?

I tilted my head, furrowing my brows in confusion.

"What the flying fuck is a lycanthrope?"

I wasn't in the mood for games today, I had been strapped to this damn chair unable to move for hours.

She visibly gulped before saying,
"Amelia...you're a werewolf...that's why you hear her voice in your head, she's your wolf."

***
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