Escapade

'Triton State Mental Institute,' the sign read. Big black letters on a cold metal gate, not old, not welcoming, just perfect for the hospital of lunatics. You could stand at the gate and still hear the screams of the tortured. A two mile radius of the compound brought a trick-escape perimeter, 'No one enters or leaves, valid staff.', a dirty, scrappy, hand-printed sign sitting on the barbed fence. Oh, was it ever true, once you entered, you never left.

(PG, PG-13. Reader discretion is advised.)