The Asylum

Chapter One

Addy Tisley
Age// 17
Date of Birth// 4/7/ 1887
Location of Birth// London England
Date of Enrollment// 2/6/1904
(Age 15)
Reason of Enrollment// Sociopathic Tendencies
Treatment//
Weakly Intensive Shock
--------------------------------------------

I was laying on the torn. Ragged cot for what felt like hours. I had already added my daily dash on the wall... there were so many now. Hundreds and hundreds. The only way I even knew how many Days it was were my treatments. Every Wednesday and five. Right after my common time.

An hour of being shown various images and being shocked to the point I can't feel it anymore. It tickles more than it hurts. I don't even remember why I'm here. And--

The power just cut out all of a sudden. It's so... quiet. No more buzz of the light bulbs. Next thing I know is the scraping of metal.

Then yelling. A lot of it. The screams felt inhuman. I shivered. I push my bed forward using it as a blockade against the door.

The noise. The screech the little metal knobs made against the concrete. Sickening. I wasn't the only one who noticed. I almost screamed when someone started pounding on my door.

I remained quiet. I forced myself into the corner. 'Be small. Be small. If you're small enough you won't exist.' I thought to myself on an endless loop.

The banging continued for what felt like hours. And then it stopped. So did the noise. Minus the scurrying footsteps racing out of the cell block.

I pushed open the door. Ever so cautiously. I felt unsafe. Very unsafe. As though a single sneeze would kill me. I gagged at the metallic stench of blood. It was worse when my eyes adjusted to the darkness. Corpses. Four of them...I think littered the floor...what happened here?! Blood. Organs. Skin. It was everywhere. And oh so disgusting. I had to get to the security office. They'd help me there...who am I kidding.

The guards, the doctors,The nuns. They didn't like anyone. It felt like me more than anyone else. They always glared at me. Rarely spoke to me. The only ones nice to me were the cafeteria staff. It was almost as though they knew. Nothing was wrong with me.

I was 15 when apparently someone either my parents (very unlikely) or one of my teachers reported me for being crazy. Making death threats and making homicidal gestures. I'm still not sure why I'm here. I've never done any of that. My entire time here I haven't.

I continue down the hall lazily. I can't die here. I couldn't. At least it was empty. I don't see anyone. Though it still wasn't pretty. I turned the corner just to be greeted by a massive pentagram on the wall....I reached out to touch it. Blood. Blood. Gallons of the stuff... all drenching the wall. Fresh. It wasn't long before I stepped in the gutted man for which it came. I just about threw up. I backed up and ran the opposite direction. Probably making a decent amount of noise.

I am going to probably make the introducing chapters a bit short before I start piecing together the whole storyline as I do have a pretty decent idea for how I'm going to do it. Plus if this book receives enough love I guarantee there will be a sequel (if I don't forget my idea for it) so I hope I won't.... I'd tell you but it would ruin the story. I'm also gonna do something different and upload this early. *Gasp* instead of getting a ton of chapters in advance I'll upload whenever. Schedules are for popular writers. #Unloved