A.S.Y.L.U.M

Act One: Chapter One

Who's to say that the sane aren't actually insane?

Insane.

It's a six letter word.

A six letter word meaning,"in a state of mind that prevents normal perception, behavior, or social interaction; seriously mentally ill."

A six letter word that can change a life.

No one is actually insane. People just carry out certain actions that cause people to believe they are mentally ill. But if one were to truly think about it, no one is what society calls "normal." If everyone has different mindsets of what is and isn't "normal," then everyone can be seen as insane.

Were you insane to be afraid of the dark? Or of the monster hiding in your closet? Or to fear the beast resting beneath your bed?

These may seem as childish fears, for if as an adult one were to fear the hungry beast beneath your mattress, or the murderous monster blending in among your sweaters in your closet, one would be deemed "insane."

This is wrong. Everyone should fear the dark. Everyone should be cautious of the monster ready to feast in their closets. Everyone should be wary of the beast in the dark space beneath their bed. Everyone should be afraid of the demons that plague your mind.

For everyone is insane.

•

Bricklain.

It's said to be home of the most insane people. They have only one mental asylum, and it holds a wide assortment of people. From dazed to deadly, man-eating to murderous, many there are criminals. Many believe that the monsters the patients talk about that roam the halls at night, are merely themselves when they have the tendency to sleepwalk or when they suffer from a horrid night terror.

Many believe that the nurses and aiding staff should be called insane for working there. Several have quit over the years, for the chills up their spines had become too much to bear over the months- maybe even years -they had worked there.

No one ever comes to visit Bricklain. It's a bustling city during the day, filled with happy people. At night, another story is told. Doors are locked with three locks if not more, windows are shut with curtains closing over them, and all security systems are set before anyone even thinks about preparing for bed. The roads are silent, for no one dreams of working late as the sun falls over Bricklain. No one steps outside, not even for a quick smoke, as the moon begins to rise.

In the middle of the night, when the wolves come out, the rest of Bricklain is hidden, locked away from the monsters nobody believes in anymore. It's a shame when nobody believes in monsters anymore because only when people start dying does anyone take notice of the strange happenings that take place in Bricklain. What can they say?

It's the people's fault. They chose not to believe in monsters. The monsters are just doing their job.

They're proving just how real they are.

•

"Incoming!" Shouted the voice of a medical doctor as an ambulance rolled up.

A woman burst through the back doors of the building, tying her hair up into the ponytail, feeling slightly frustrated when pieces still fell in front of her face. She slipped on a pair of latex gloves and approached the ambulance, which now had its back doors opened, and a stretcher now rolling down and out of it.

She jogged to the side of the stretcher, staring down at the man who lay upon it, groaning lightly as he blinked. "What happened?"

"He shot a man."

"That's it? He shot a man and he's coming here? You do realize this isn't a normal hospital, right?"

The man who relayed the information to the woman narrowed his eyes. "He shot a man," he repeated. "Twenty-three times through the heart. He didn't stop there either. He ripped through the man's skin and cracked apart his rib cage. He took out the guy's heart and stuffed it into the guy's mouth. Still think he belongs in a regular hospital, only then to be put into jail?"

The woman sucked in a breath, nodding her head as she bit the inside of her cheek. She looked down at the faux blonde, noticing how well kept and fit he seemed for a killer with no remorse. He didn't seem like the others. He didn't seem coked out, or insane in the least bit. This was one for the books.

He looked up at her smiling. "How you doin', Princess?" He asked, coughing a bit as he spoke. His voice was raspy from his injuries. "Do hope I get to see you when I'm out of surgery. You're the only light I've ever seen surrounding this dark hell we call a city. Bet the monsters don't get to you, do they, Princess?" He asked, his eyes unfocused as he began to breathe in the anaesthetic that was leaked into the oxygen mask she had just placed over his face.

She quickly wheeled the stretcher inside. Though the man's story was one to hear and tell over and over, she had a life to save. She pushed him into the nearest operating room, OR 7. The entire hospital had about fifteen total because well, most of their patients had a hard time staying out of trouble.

She used scissors to cut through his shirt, exposing his chest. He had a deep stab wound, made by a screwdriver as she later learned, that had nicked his aortic valve. It wouldn't be a hard job, but it would take a decent amount of time.

Switching out her gloves for a new pair, she stood beside the head surgeon who was already at work. "Hand me the clamp, Miss Evergreen."

The young woman handed over the proper utensil and continued to do so for the next few hours.

They finally finished around seven o'clock, just in time for the young woman to head home. She frowned as she stepped outside into the cold, bitter night. Waving good-bye to the head surgeon and a few of the nurses, she stepped into her small, black car and headed up the road, back into the main part of the city.

Her mind was elsewhere as she drove into the pitch black night. While she normally would have been paying attention to the woods surrounding her and flinching at the sudden screams and howls she would hear, her mind was focused on only one thing. The patient she had saved.

The patient called Niall Horan.