Not Crazy to Me | Slashers x Nurse!Reader

Prologue

Despite the sun, high and mighty in a bright blue sky, the forest around you is dark and unnerving, making you tense up, goosebumps rippling across your skin. You tap a tune on your steering wheel, having lost the radio stations 30 minutes ago. You should be at your destination shortly. You were headed to the Rosewell Asylum, having seen an ad for a job there in the paper. The job wasn't as high-ranked as you'd wanted since you had a master's degree in nursing, but it paid well and offered a room to stay in for the nights you weren't willing to make the 2 hour drive home. Your legs ache after being crammed in the car for so long and you can't wait to get out and stretch them. You'd been giving your nurse scrubs, a dark purple t-shirt and matching pants, after your interview when they'd hired you then and there, claiming they were horribly understaffed. You'd wanted to ask how, since the job paid so well but they'd ushered you out before you could. At last you spotted a flicker of white through the trees, the road curving to the right and revealing a big sign that read 'Rosewell Asylum and Penitentiary'. You rode the road a few more minutes before the actual building came into sight. It was smaller than you'd thought, with high walls and bars on every window, security cameras shifting back and forth on a pivot. Lights shone from the spotlights on the walls, and you waited at the tall chain link gate to pass through the fence. You pulled up beside a speaker, the red light above it flashing on and signalling it was okay to speak.

"Hello, I'm Ms. (L/N), here for the new caretaker job?" you call through your window as you roll it down, craning your neck to spot the man sitting inside a small booth up ahead, the man who controls the gate. You flash him a warm smile, in which he returns, motioning for you to come and park beside the window, to be given your special access card. You do just that, your window rolled down all the way now.

"Good day, Ms. (L/N), it's nice to see a new face around here for once!" he smiles, running a hand through his dark auburn hair. His green eyes were filled with a new life, a sort of excitement in this dull place.

"It's good to meet you too, you can call me (Y/N)." you smile, holding a hand out your window for him to shake. He leans out from his own booth window, taking it in a gentle grip.

"I'm William, William Marsh. Rosewell hasn't hired anyone new for months now! Slim pickings around here, no one seems to want a job in the 'loonie bin'." William chuckles lightly at his words, pulling his arm back inside and pulling an envelope from the counter beside him. "This is your keycard, it should get you anywhere you need to go," Will said, leaning back out the window to hand the envelope to you. It was surprisingly heavy and jingled when it shook, telling you that there was also a set of keys or something of the sort.

"Again, it's nice to meet you," William nodded, still smiling, and clicking a button to open the gate. The gates peel open with a low rumble, and you ease on the gas pedal once they're opened all the way. Now that you were past the gates you could see the building better. The grey brick walls formed two floors with few windows, thick, sturdy, metal mesh bars criss-crossing each one. With each window came a camera and a bright LED light. The front doors of the building were, surprisingly, glass, though they held the same mesh as the windows. You parked your car in the lot between two others, stepping out and stretching your legs with satisfaction. You shut your car, locking the door behind you, purse and envelope in hand, turning towards the building. Bushes line the space between the brick walls and the sidewalk with small wildflowers blooming within them. Despite the very prison-like feeling the place had, it was generally pleasant, the forest around you and the fresh air only making it better. You reach the glass doors and push them open with confidence. Inside the building it's surprisingly well lit with a white tile floor and light gray walls, a receptionist's deck directly parallel to the doors with sofas on either side and thick metal doors to accompany them. The woman behind the receptionist's desk has blonde hair and glasses perched on her nose. Her blue eyes flick from her computer to you, and she smiles tightly.