freaks | on hiatus

01 | the convict

"Here, in the forest, dark and deep, I offer you, eternal sleep."
- The Poor Little Rich Girl -

[ O N E - H A W K E S ]
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set in 1984

"TEDDY OWE-"

That son of a bitch never got to finish his sentence because of the plastic plate I threw at his face. He doubled back and clutched a hand over eye, groaning in pain.

"What the hell?" he shouted.

"Mr.Hawkes, what did we say about assaulting peace officers?"

Robin Joyce stepped out from behind the warden. She was one of the therapists that worked in Vale Garden's Psychiatric Institution for the Criminally Insane, and specialized in the maximum security unit.

She was only in her mid-twenties, but the crease between her eyebrows and the way her mouth was slightly down turned made her seem older. I suppose us psychos were to blame for that.

"He should've known better than to call me that," I growled.

Threads of crimson blood were beginning to seep through his fingers. Robin sighed heavily.

"What did we say about assaulting peace officers?" she repeated.

I shot her a glare.

"What did we say about assaulting peace officers?" she repeated once more.

"Assaulting a peace officer is considered a punishable offence and liable for imprisonment," I said, just so she'd shut up.

"Good. We wouldn't want to spend anymore time in prison, would we, Hawkes?"

"No."

"Thank you. Now if you will, please follow me."

"Professor Joyce," groaned the warden, lifting himself off the ground and pulling out a pair of handcuffs. "He's dangerous."

I rolled my eyes.

"I know, warden," she replied. "But I trust him."

"Professor, you have no idea what this man is capable of. Let me do my job."

"There is no need for that. I'm able to handle this on my own. Hawkes, right this way."

The warden seemed hesitant, but eventually shifted out of the way so that Joyce and I could leave my room. On my way out, I made sure to step on his foot.

"Watch it," he warned, placing his hand on the taser on his belt.

Whatever. Was that supposed to intimidate me? He was about as scary as a baby in a clown costume.

I gave him the finger.

"Fucker," I spat, and followed Joyce out the door and into the hallway.

Vale Gardens had atrocious hallways. They were a baby blue hue with green hills and flamboyant foliage painted on it, as if this was supposed to be a goddamn daycare instead of a mental asylum.