Psychotic Love [AHS Character x Reader]

2. Welcome to Briarcliff

**A/N**
          Me again. This chapter is set as if Grace didn't exist and before Kit and Alma are reunited, just so it makes a bit more sense. Thanks so much for reading!
          Xx

          "Let me go! I'm not crazy! GET OFF OF ME!" Your arms are restrained by two large men in matching white uniforms but no one thought to bind your feet. You lean back against the guards and kick out with both legs, not caring that you're only wearing a thin cotton nightgown, hoping to take them by such surprise that they let go of you. To your dismay, their grip is tight.
          "Don't let her loose, boys," comes a venom filled voice from behind you. "She can't be trusted."
          You scream out in rage. If they would only listen to you they'd see you were, in fact, completely sane. The owner of the voice steps around one of the guards and faces you fully. Heath, your stepfather, glares down at you as he strokes his mustache.
          "You should have acquiesced, [Y/N]. You should have been more compliant. But then you always choose to do things the hard way, don't you?"
          You spit in his face in response. Heath's face fills with fury and he lunges for you. You kick outward again; this time your heel connects with the bridge of his nose. You smirk at the sight of his blood as it trickles down his face and onto his freshly pressed suit. "Get her out of here!" His below is muffled by his hands.
          At his word you're thrown roughly  into the back of the awaiting van, unable to stop yourself from landing face first onto the metal floor. Suppressing a cry, you right yourself almost immediately and shrink away from doors as they slam, leaving you alone in the stifling darkness.
          "She'll be in good hands, Mr. Rossi. Very good hands." You overhear one of the guards tell your stepfather. "Don't you worry about a thing." Shivering, you bring your knees up to your chest and hug them tightly. You are very well aware of where they're taking you. And you're also aware that once you are in, you never come out.

          "Come on, dollface. Your castle awaits." The doors of the van are swung open unceremoniously, spilling sunlight over the interior. You squint against the glare, shielding your eyes as you're pulled from your spot. Thankfully your eyes adjust after a few moments, and when they do you look up the humongous building. Briarcliff Manor,  a brick multistory mansion that houses the mentally inferior and the criminally insane, was the subject of many a nightmare for the townspeople. As a child you were continuously warned, "You'd better eat your vegetables! You know what happens to the ones who disobey their parents. Straight to Briarcliff!"
          You gulp as you're forced across the porch and into the dark, damp foyer, unable to swallow past the lump in your throat. Your eyes struggle yet again to focus in the dimness.
          "Pierson, Mackey. What a surprise to see you again. And so soon?" the clear voice, dripping with sarcasm, demanded attention. Your head snaps up to the top of the stairs where a regal woman is standing, clothed in a spotless habit.
"Sister Jude! We got another one for ya," the goon to your left replies. Your stomach roiles as Sister Jude descends and you fear you'll lose the contents of your stomach which includes nothing but water and a slice of bread.
"I see. We're almost at capacity as it is." She reaches the bottom of the staircase and strides over to where you three are standing. Your breathing falters as she eyes you with a cold gaze.
"What did this one do?" she asks bluntly, disdain splayed across her aging features. This one? You open your mouth to answer her before she whips her head back to you.
"You do not speak unless spoken to, do you understand?" You bite back a retort and simply nod, refusing to meet her eyes. One of Sister Jude's work roughened hands grips your chin and forces you to look her in the face. "Do you understand?"
"Yes, ma'am." You force out. With a self satisfied smirk she lets you go and turns toward one of the guards expectantly. "Well?"
The one on the right clears his throat nervously. "Uh, it was murder, Sister." Her hand flies to her throat.
"I see," Sister Jude breathes, avoiding your gaze. "I didn't kill anyone, Sister, you have got to believe me!" you cry, feeling a tear roll down your cheek. With a stone face Jude grabs your wrist.
"Save your crocodile tears, chickee. No one here will coddle you." Turning to the men she says, "Thank you, gentlemen. God bless you." As soon as they leave you're pulled up the winding staircase and into a large office occupied only by a thick oak desk, three chairs, a bookcase, and a door you assume leads to a closet.
"Sit," Sister Jude orders, pointing to one of the chairs on the opposite side of the desk. You tentatively take a seat as she takes hers behind the desk, pulling out a blank manilla folder.
"Name?"
"[Y/N]." you answer softly, staring down at your bare feet. You look up to see Sister Jude appraising you with a steel eye, as though you were nothing but a criminal. To her, you were.
"I didn't kill anyone." You state fiercely, maintaining eye contact. Jude remains unflinching, staring you down until you're forced to look away, uncomfortable.
"Whether or not you're a murderer is of no importance, chickee. What matters is that we are all sinners, and we all must repent." She folds her hands in front of her.
"I'm not repenting for something I didn't even do. That's crazy."
"Funny of you to mention crazy in an asylum." Huffing quietly, she unfolds her hands and stands.
"You will need to be deloused, then given your first round of treatment. After that, Sister Mary Eunice can show you to the common room. We're done here." Before you can open your mouth to protest a young nun rushes in and ushers you out.
"I'm Sister Mary Eunice. And you are...?" The young blonde turns her head in your direction as she leads you down the hall. You see no one about, a fact you mention to the Sister.
"Yes, they're all in the common room. Very rarely are they allowed to roam the halls. I'm sure you'll learn that soon enough." You wrap your arms more tightly around yourself, the draftiness of the manor seeping into your bones.
"We'll get you a change of clothes after your delousing. You'll be right as rain in no time at all." She smiles down at you, a sliver of sunshine amidst a thunderstorm. You're immediately fond of her, and hope that you'll have at least one friend in this whole ordeal. "Here we are. I'll be right out here when you're finished."
You step inside the room, which happens to be a bathroom equipped with four claw foot bathtubs and a large stand up shower with multiple jets, as a large woman in white drags you to the shower and starts yanking at your nightgown.
"What are you doing?" You ask panicky, your voice a higher pitch than usual. The woman rolls her eyes as she strips you bare.
"What do you think delousing is, child? We have to spray you down and make sure you're clean."
Shit.