~ Kit's P.O.V ~
--------------------------------------------------
As I was led out of the van by a few men, my chained hands and feet prevented me from walking normally. I could feel the piercing stares of everyone penetrating me as I was led up the staircase toward the looming desolate building, the eyes of some of the doctors, nurses, nuns, and one reporter following me as I entered the building. The reporter stood out to me, dressed in a yellow knitted skirt and button down top over a green high neck shirt, a golden pin in the shape of a cursive "L" on her lapel.
I looked up longingly at them before turning my face away, not given them the satisfaction. I was told to wait for a nun named Sister Jude before I was to be sanitized. I thought that was strange that I had to report to her before being sanatized, but they said it was because I was a special case.
However, she had someone in her office already, so I stood outside the door, waiting with two guards by my side. They told me the girl in the room had arrived at dawn just as I had, but about an hour or so before I did. Just as I was arriving, they were finishing her sanitation process performed by some of the nurses and nuns that I did not see upon entering - apparently they had a large staff.
The girl walked out, bumping into me before I went in. I barely paid attention to her and made my way into Sister Jude's office, a rather rude and judgmental nun who I had seen outside.
"Our famous killer," she smiled slyly as she began circling me, the sound of her one inch heels clicking against the floor amidst the silence. I felt the nervousness pervade through my body.
"Sister, I'm innocent," I asserted. I knew she would not listen, but I had to do it for myself, to keep my dignity...
"That's what they all say," she shook her head.
"Why did you want to see me before I went through sanitization?"
"No reason," she smiled that sly smile again. "Just wanted to see the famous killer in all his glory."
"I'm not an animal you can just look at," I gritted my teeth.
"Well you slaughtered those girls pretty good. Cut them up like meat, filleting them, slicing them..."
I spit in her face. She closed her eyes and extracted a hankerchief from her pocket, wiping her face. She looked down at me menacingly, her face inching closer to mine. "You're gonna wish you hadn't done that. I can make your life hell." She annunciated every word carefully.
"You're sick, too," I shook my head. "I can tell that you're getting joy out of this..."
"Not as much joy as you got. Let me guess you were sexually aroused as you did this? You killed those girls for your own sick pleasure..."
I lunged at her as she screamed for the guards. I knew that it was not a wise decision, that this would not convince them that I was innocent, but I couldn't help myself.
The men took each of my arms and led me to be showered, deloused, and changed, the cold water burning against my exposed skin. It was so cold it was nearly painful.
Dressed in a gray gown of sorts, the nurses forced me onto a bed in a plain generic room. I fought them, flailing about, kicking, and headbutting as I tried to resist them while they strapped my arms and legs to the bed, injecting me with a sedative.
"Would you look at that, fighting back for all he's worth," Sister Jude smirked above me as my mind slipped into a foggy state.
"Sister, why are you doing this?" I pleaded.
"You're a monster, Kit Walker," she looked down to me as if I were nothing. "All monsters are human. There's no doubt you're a monster. You killed those women. More than killed, actually..."
"I didn't do it, Sister, I told you..."
"The authorities have evidence. You've done it, so shut up and suck it up here you sick bastard. You've got it good compared to what those innocent women got."
She stalked out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her.
I was now alone with my thoughts in the quiet room as I felt myself slipping into the dark recesses of my mind. Not even the howling of the wind or the tick of a clock filled the room, nothing but empty, torturous silence...
I wept for Alma and how I couldn't hold her close to me right. I wanted her to know what happened to me, to ask her if she was okay, but I couldn't. They say she fled to avoid any confrontation with the police or me or anything connected to this mess, severing all ties with her life in Massachusetts. The authorities don't know where she went, but it sounded like she went to Europe, entirely escaping the American government.
I hoped they didn't come after her, I'm glad she escaped them...But as for me, why wouldn't she come visit, ask what really happened? Would it really be my luck to never have her back in my life ever again, to lose her forever to this sick wrong world? I sighed, shaking my head violently. I wouldn't let it happen. The sedative had at last kicked in and I slipped intoyunconsciousness.
***
I heard a loud banging on my door. I groaned, not wanting to be disturbed. But then, I jolted yet was held back due to my restraints. I instantly remembered where I was and panicked, my heart racing. There were deep marks left on my arms and legs from the restraints as I had likely moved in the middle of the night.
"Breakfast, Bloody Face," the guard taunted as I heard the clinking of keys as the door opened and he undid my restraints. I must have slept till morning. He put the tray on my lap - a slice of bread with the smallest dollop of jelly imaginable and some disgusting looking hash. I put a small bite in my mouth and nearly gagged.
"Get used to it, Bloody Face."
Shockingly, after just barely choking down my breakfast, he let me walk to the common room without holding on to me. Everyone there was so sick looking, so insane, except for a group of girls gathered around a table playing checkers. They looked the most normal, but as I did not want to disturb them, I sat on the couch beside where they were sitting, lighting a cigarette and leaning back into the fabric.
"Did you hear that reporter got committed? She's a lesbian," one of the girls whispered.
"Where is she?" another asked.
"In her room still I think."
"So many new arrivals," another shook her head.
To leave myself to my thoughts, I got up and sat at another table more towards the middle of the room, an annoying French song playing softly serving as the background to my thoughts as I took a drag from the cigarette, finding comfort in the motions.
Suddenly, I felt a presence drawing nearer and saw a girl sit in front of me.
"You're the guy I saw in front of Sister Jude's office, that I bumped into," she observed then made a little laugh. "Sorry about that, by the way."
"It's alright," I answered, looking up at her. I did a double take.
The girl was absolutely beautiful. Her medium brown curls cascaded loosely down her back, her bulbous green eyes bright and crystal clear against her perfectly tanned skin. She had a small button nose, perfect full lips, and a perfect hour glass figure. My gaze lingered on her face and flitted downward to gather up as much of her as I could. God, she was gorgeous...I felt myself become hard in my pants and I shifted uncomfortably. God damn it, Kit, you love Alma! She uprooted her life and you're here and you're gonna go and get boners from people in an asylum? I disgusted myelf. But I suppose it happens. She's pretty is all, nothing else...
"I'm Irina Pashkova," she puffed on her cigarette and then proceeded to shake my hand, smiling. "Who are you?"
"Kit Walker," I replied.
Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened even more, if that were possible. I felt a sinking feeling in my heart. She knew, she believed the rumors.
"You're Bloody Face," she exclaimed. "Oh my God - How do they even let you in here, walking around as you please?!" she exclaimed, getting up and running away. I grabbed her wrist, pulling her closer.
"Get off me," she growled, wringing her wrist away from me. "HE'S GOT ME! BLOODY FACE! HELP ME!"
"Shh, Irina, shh," I soothed her. She just made me feel something I couldnt' explain. Something about her really made me want to talk to her.
She fought some more and turned to look at me, straight into my eyes, straight into my soul. She surrendered to the fight and sat down, waving the guards away.
"What the hell was all that about?" I was entirely confused.
"You're not crazy," she shook her head. "I...I panicked. See, everyone's been talking about you. Instinct took over, I wanted to flee, to leave you so you wouldn't hurt me. I mean, how could it not be true? They found the evidence. But, when I saw your eyes, I saw your soul too. And it's purer than anything I've ever seen," tears formed a sparkling glassy film over her ethereal captivating eyes. I wanted to take her into my arms and hold her close.
"How do you know? Sometimes gut feelings are wrong," I forced a laugh.
"Not this one," she shook her head. "You see, I'm a medium. That doesn't make me psychic - I don't have visions of the past, present, or future - but the spirts surrounding and guiding you only spoke to me off kindness. Your aura is a mixture of pink, blue, yellow, and white...everything positive. Pink is your most dominant color - love, sincerity and friendship. It is creasing at the edges, turning grey with depression, exhaustion, sadness...but that's only because this place damages souls. You're everything that a muderer is not, Kit Walker. I just wasn't able to see that until that moment. I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry. You assumed, just like the rest. You were no different. And just now, you did in fact prove yourself different. I can tell you're a special girl, Irina."
"I like you Kit Walker," she smiled, leaning back in her chair as she puffed on her cigarette again.
I couldn't help a small blush creep into my cheeks. Good God, Kit, what is wrong with you? Jesus.
"So you're in here because you can see dead people?" I cracked a laugh.
"Basically," she nodded slowly, the smoke billowing upward from her cigarette. "My parents said they couldn't "deal with me" anymore," she held up her fingers as quotation marks. " Everyone thinks that I'm a schizophrenic. My only friends were Nick and Kimberly. Nick and I..." she took a deep breath. "We were high...and drunk one night. We...fooled around a bit. He wanted to be my boyfriend after that, but I...I didn't want to fuck up our friendship."
"I was about to propose to my girlfriend but then...well, I came here. But it had to be in secret anyway. She's...see, she's a negro."
"Oh," she raised her eyebrows, those perfectly arched dark eyebrows...
"Don't tell me you're like that," I tensed up.
"No, not in the least. I'm white and I'm still always ridiculed, for being Russian. I just didn't have much to say," she shrugged.
"Kit Walker?" a man's voice called.
I turned around to see a tall man with broad shoulders dressed in a suit standing in the doorway. His dark black hair parted and slicked back to the sides. He had square black rimmed glasses and he was very pale, his nose slightly curving downward. He had a clear comforting voice but looked very stoic.
"Coming," I answered, turning back around to look at Irina. "See you around?"
"Of course," she smiled wider, biting her lip.
My session with Dr. Threadson was strenuous. I had to be on my guard the whole time as he questioned me, peering at me carefully over the rim of his glasses, studying me carefully. It made me uncomfortable. I made sure to answer each question careful, as to not dig myself a hole. I was honest; honest was all I could be. It was my nature and would maybe, just maybe, set me free. Once the session finished and the tension had lifted, I let my mind open to think about the thing I've been yearning to think about the entire session, though I controlled myself as the appointment was important: Irina.
A/N: Sorry if these few chapters seemed a little draggy I'm just trying to introduce the characters and how they got to Briarcliff with a lot of detail so you get the full picture but I tried to make it as interesting as possible with canon as well as original ideas the best that I can :)