Maniac (AHS Based Story)

Chapter One

Sister Clare clears her throat, gaining the attention of all the staff in the room.

"There have been numerous rumors circulating this week, so I want you all to hear this from me."

Whispers fill the room, and Brooklyn looks at me worriedly. I act as if I don't see her and keep my eyes fixated on Sister Clare, who wears a look of worry on her face. She waits patiently for the chatter to simmer down to silence.

"I know many of you have heard the news, lately. So, you should all be familiar with the name The Butcher of Beacon Hills." She pauses, before continuing. Her tone sounds as if she's been rehearsing this speech for days.

"He has been charged for the murder of five, local women. I am here to tell you all that he will be admitted this morning. You are all dismissed." She closes. She stands before us just a minute longer, before she steps out of the room.

Conversations start up the minute Sister Clare leaves the locker room. I hang my coat on the hook in my locker and look at Brooklyn, who's been babbling on about this serial killer. She is unaware that no one is even listening to her. I sit down on the bench next to her and pull my hair back into a ponytail.

"Aren't you nervous?" She places her hand on my knee.

"This is a hospital for the criminally insane. What do you expect?" My tone is harsh, but I don't mean for it to be.

She stares back at me, as if she is about to say something, but stops herself. I ignore it and lean my forehead against the cool metal of my locker. Eventually she leaves me to myself and follows the rest of the staff out of the room. It isn't long before I do the same.

I jog down the center staircase to see a small crowd gathering around the doors. Pushing my way through the all of the staff, I find Brooklyn, standing with a few of the nurses. She motions me to come stand with her.

Reporters are lined up everywhere outside the gates, some even inside. Sister Clare stands at the bottom of the stair case, arms crossed, awaiting the arrival of Seattle's finest criminal. Next to her, Dr. Morris whispers something in her ear, that makes her frown.

Suddenly, everyone standing outside gets eerily quite, as a police car pulls in through the gates of the institution.

In the past, whenever a patient arrived at St. Mary's, only Sister Clare and a security guard would wait at the entrance. But, nothing about today is routine.

The car stops, and the engine shuts off. Two men, dressed in black uniforms, step out of the car. One of the men open the backseat door, as the other jerks another man out of the car. The patient stumbles forward a bit, but soon regains his balance. I almost feel sympathetic for the patient, but I have to remind myself why he is here, and the feeling soon vanishes.

All of the staff and I wait for the outburst. We wait for him to fight back or to run off... Only nothing happens. The two men push him forward, as they ascend the stairs. I glance at Brooklyn with uneasy eyes, and she shrugs her shoulders.

I divert my eyes back to the man, who is now staring at me. Or, at least it feels like he's staring at me. I keep eye contact with him, not only because he terrifies me, but because he intrigues me.

His appearance isn't repulsive, like many of the patients we receive, but it's striking in the best way possible. I study all of his features in the little time I have, before he's rushed off to confinement.

He's a young man, say 21-22. Which surprises and frightens me to know that such a young man can cause such a catastrophe. He is tall- at least a foot taller than I. His body, even though dressed in the musty blue jumpsuit, still looks lean and toned underneath. His hands, restrained in handcuffs, are rough and callused. My eyes wander back up to his face. He has such strong features- ranging from his jawline to his dark, venomous eyes.

I am so caught up in analyzing the man, that I don't even realize that he's already been taken inside and most of the staff are already gone. I walk up the stairs, wondering what everyone else is thinking. We're all thinking it, right? We're just too afraid to admit it.

Inside, I overhear a few girls expressing their thoughts on the convict. Their thoughts are much alike mine. Shock and disbelief. It seems as I wasn't the only one expecting a show.

"Shows over." I turn around to see Sister Clare eyeing down a few of the employees. I gulp when she looks at me. I shouldn't be afraid of my boss, but Sister Clare is intolerant and contemptuous of the majority of the staff. Being afraid of her does more good, than harm for the sake of my job.

"Mrs. Flynn, just who I wanted to see." She flashes a smile at me, obviously a fake one, "Come with me." She places her hand on my back, and now I don't have a choice. I have to go with her.

I follow her over to the center of the room, directly below the staircase. She turns around to look back at me and places a hand on my shoulder. I shudder beneath her touch and pray to God she doesn't notice.

"I have been observing you for some time now. You impress me. But, I want to see if you really are cut out for this kind of job. I have put a lot of thought into it, therefore, for the remainder of this week, you will be on his service."

Before she can say another word, I already know who she is talking about.

"His name is James Blair."