Inner Asylum

Chapter One: Unpleasant Introductions

Reed sets down his coffee, his fingers acting as a buffer between the cup and the table as he places it on the desk. The scent of hazelnut coffee wafts through his private office, exploring the bleak white walls. The only noise that occupies this tiny space is the fast clicking of the computer keys as he types, and the faint melodies of the violinist who plays Ava Maria outside.
Reed closes his laptop, gingerly slipping it into his leather briefcase. He stands and grabs the handle, adjusting the grip while exiting the building; the autumn breeze acting like a late morning kiss. His phone rings and with one smooth motion he takes it out of his pocket, presses accept, and brings it to his ear. "Dr. Ethan Reed speaking.."
"Reed, it's good to hear your voice. Is it true what they're saying? You're back in the game now?"
"It appears so." He briskly turns the corner. "Though it's less of a game to me and more of a occupational hazard." Reed makes it to his apartment complex, nearly two blocks from his office. "I've been assigned a new patient, as part of a case study," he murmurs, holding the phone in the crook of his shoulder.
There's a slight pause, before the man on the other end asks. "You don't think it's too soon?"
Reed slowly strips off his maple coat, his brow creasing. "If you're referring to that, Dr.Matias, you'll be relieved to know that I've made a full recovery; I'm taking on this new patient as proof of it."
"Good..." Matias whispers. "I'm glad you're back..."
"They didn't give me much of a choice," he replies a bit sourly. "I'll see you soon." Reed ends the call. He sits down on his couch, coursing his fingers through his charcoaled hair, resting his head between his hands. Almond shaped eyes of a light green color close themselves in deep thought, the conversation triggering memories he's failed to repress.

"Is he alive?"a nurse asked, her brow furrowed as she stared down at the still patient. Reed was a young man in his early twenties, dried blood painted his paled lips; the side of his head was bruised, like it had been dealt a heavy blow.
The Doctor followed her gaze, his lips pursed tightly together. "Yes, he's alive. This man just got rolled in last night to the emergency room. He's a victim of the Brook Asylum Massacre..."
The Doctor's voice trailed a bit, he swallowed hard. The nurse frowned, she didn't want to linger around any longer than she had to; the Brook Asylum Massacre was that type of freak accident that no one wanted to discuss. There were no details, no convictions, just a missing patient and an office full of corpses. It's enough to make even the strongest people shudder. "Poor man, I bet he wishes he were dead after experiencing that," she whispered. The nurse looked down at her clipboard at his information. "Ethan Reed," she murmured. "Wasn't it his patient that--"
"I believe so." The Doctor looked up and realized at that moment, Ethan was awake, just barely. His eyes were clouded, his voice was nothing more than a hoarse rasp. "Shira...Shira.." he slurred.
The Doctor took a step back, terror in his eyes. The nurse followed his lead, her gaze cutting between the two men. "What? What is it?" she asked in a slightly panicked manner.
"He said that woman's name.." The Doctor slowly made his way to the exit, bringing the nurse with him by the forearm. "Let's alert the police that he's awake, and...and that he keeps calling for that hellish woman." They exited the room and Ethan threw back his head as an excruciating pain gripped him. "Sh..Shira."

Reed sighs, leaning up from his position. "Shira.." the name rolls off his tongue like a drop of poison, he spits out. He glances down at the coffee table in front of him, scanning the various newspaper articles he's collected over the past month. One of the headers catches his attention.

PSYCHOLOGIST COMMITS SUICIDE: DR. MARK ALLEN FOUND DEAD IN LAB.

He picks it up and reads over the details. He was the only one left in the lab. The cause of death: Risperidone overdose. He grabs todays' paper next, reading the most recent headline. Reed feels his stomach churn. Uneasiness washes over him, plaguing his mind with unsettling thoughts of homicide.