This centers on a deranged woman's path to becoming a complete nihilistic and feral serial killer. Emma Woodburn was put in the asylum for eleven years after killing her own husband and ten-year old son, along with the aging mother of a detective.
...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Was there ever a sign of sanity left in Emma Woodburn following her eleven years of incarceration? Never. You know why? Because all this while, Emma became the asylum. Her new home for the criminally minded and mentally insane had blossomed into a beautiful garden of WHITE. The woman-in-WHITE needed a safe haven where her inner darkness could be consumed by the great WHITE light of peace.
So, the ward gave her hope. The ward gave her specialist and professional-No, one of the professional psychiatrists of the city; Dr. Matt Cowen, a normal middle-aged man who showed such kind and patient gestures for the sick people. Ever since he met Emma Woodburn at Baltimore, he grew attached to her. At approximately 1:54, Emma was escorted out of the institution by several armed guards and wardens, both wrists chained and a mask concealing her mouth. The woman-in-WHITE breathed heavily like a gnarling dog as she gazed at the sunshine. Her wrinkled blue eyes could only catch the imagery of waters running from house pipes, children running around, busy passers-by ranting about their usual day-to-day crap and living their same dull lives. Meeting the same boring people and doing the same activity over and over and over again. Nothing changed all the time Emma had been institutionalized.
It never made sense. Why hasn't anything changed? Emma muttered to herself. Her curly blonde hair had now dropped across her face so much it was impossible to believe she could see through all that hair. In her mid-forties, she was still wearing WHITE. Nothing will ever stop her from obsessing over this beautiful color of hers. Ever. The minute Emma stopped gnarling under her mask it was because of the sight of Dr. Cowen.
"At least it's better than a strait jacket, right Emma?", Cowen joked, not even expecting the woman-in-WHITE to show a sign of reaction. "C'mon, you should be happy. This is, by far, the eighth time you've been given a chance to get away from that solitary confinement and go out with me."
Cowen wrapped his arm around Emma with the similarity of reuniting with a best friend, but she was entirely fixated on the many people walking around the streets in such a boring manner. Cowen showed more concerned.
"Hey, I know. Things haven't changed yet, Emma. But don't worry, it'll soon." He said with a smile.
Emma, now freed of the mask but still chained tightly with a few guards around, paced around the corners of Baltimore street with Cowen as they talked about fantasies. Fantasies Emma knew will never ever come true. But she still kept her smile extended on her aging face despite the horrible reality. If you might not know, Emma's mask was very crucial now that she had been exposed to pure cannibalism. Cowen had been the only man Emma understood and could ever relate to, but other wardens and inmates as well received hostility from her.
At approximately 3:15, Emma and Cowen were at a fancy restaurant which was still in view of armed security guards and NYPD. Six vehicles of the Department parked outside, with ears listening tentatively through wires planted in both Emma's and Cowen's pockets. Their conversation turned joyously like that of a simple intimate couple. Cowen threw in talks about his high school days being bullied, how he got hurt by the girl he had a crush on who later turned out to be his wife.
