Within The Asylum Walls: Freedom Wakes | ✔

Prologue

*Note: I wrote Within the Asylum Walls when I was 14 years old. Issues with plot, characterization, and pacing can be attributed to my growing experience as a writer. I may revisit this story one day, but until that happens, enjoy!*

Prologue

A variety of people inhabit this world consisting of masses of distinct nationalities, religions, and cultures. Yet despite their diversity, each person has the same striking similarity.

          They are all human.

         Or so it seems. 

          We have received different names around the world. Sampiro in Albania, Empousa in Greece, Strigoi in Romania. Though the labels and descriptions vary, they all convey the same meaning. We are creatures that consume blood in order to survive.

          I prefer the title of Vampire.

          Since our first signs of existence, humanity has tried to wipe us out. Their ignorance runs deep. As soon as humans figured out our main vulnerabilities, sunlight and garlic, they hounded us. Stories were passed down about the horrible demises of my brethren. Many were ambushed, forced into chains, and burned at the stake. This method abated much of my kind. It is a wonder that we survived.

          However, many of us are clever. Far more clever than the human mind could possibly conceive.

          Some of my ancestors escaped from society and fled to rural areas. To ensure the continuation of the species, my ascendants mixed with the cultures of more feral humans. In turn of our mingling with them, some later generations of vampires have a small resistance to garlic. It can keep us alive, especially when humans use GPs on us, but I'll elaborate on that shortly. Because of our fear, we tried to be human,  and it worked for a long while. We even took part in many of society's technological and medical advances. But at the turn of the 20th century, everything changed.

          Once again, the hunt for vampires resumed.

          They trapped us by strange means then. Though unconventional, the effects were just as deadly. Guns were used on us. Not ordinary ones; those would have been a simple annoyance. These pellets were coated with undiluted garlic juice. When the shell pierced our skin, it would shatter on impact, rendering us helpless. Because they were varnished with garlic, I call them GPs, garlic pellets. I remembered being told of this, of my people writhing in pain as they were dragged off to their untimely deaths caused by those murder machines.

          Soon enough, the motives of the humans took an entirely new form. They lusted after the supposed immortality of vampires. Humans are stupidly stubborn with their pursuits that end with their inevitable destruction. We do not live forever. Ingestion of blood keeps us alive. If we truly wished to die, all we'd have to do is allow ourselves. But it is a process that I know not of.

          Many constructs were made to hold us after capture. At these places, we are put through grueling physical and psychological tests that make us want to end our suffering. Additionally, we are in complete isolation. I don't know if there are other vampires with me, or if I am the only one that currently resides here. After all, they put flawed humans here, too. These places are known as asylums.

          That's where I am.

          My name is Zune Nadzhed, and I am a patient at Saint Catherine's Asylum for the Insane.

          This is my story.