Asylium

I wake up on the crappy floor, as always. My head kind of hurts. It’s one of those shy headaches, the kind that doesn’t have enough self-confidence to bloom into a full earthshaking headache. I sit up and pass my hands in my face, my eyes still closed. When they reach my lips, I taste something. I open my eyes for the first time of the day and begin to wonder:  why are my hands so brown? It could have been rust if human could rust, but still, the color’s not right. It’s too dark, like some kind of brownish-red, kind of like dried blood.

Ha crap! Blood! My hands are covered in blood. What the fuck happened? I lift my eyes from my hands, only to see the walls stained by blood all over. Someone finger painted my fucking room with blood! Man, some clean up dude is in for some major overtime today. Damn it! This asshole even painted over my niece’s drawing! I’m so going to kill the fucker. He is so dead.

But that’s only then that I realize. Who the fuck entered my fucking room? The door is always locked, like every other. Just to make sure, I take a look at the freaking door. OPEN! Not entirely, but my cell’s door is open. Something is fucking bloody hell wrong. They never leave it open; I might escape if they did. I get up and walk toward the open door.

As I get out of the room, I stumble on something. A freaking corpse! I let a little panic cry out only to kill it as soon as I can. I recognize the body even if the head is missing. It’s Jason. “Sorry Jay, no blow job for you today.” I say to the body. Not that I minded doing him a blow job, but making me swallow? Damn I hate it!

I search the body for keys, and keys I find, no surprise there. I put them in my bra; just to be sure I don’t lose them, and then clean a bit of the dried blood on Jay’s corpse. Around me, the walls are crappy, I feel like I’m in a bad horror movie. I could go right or left, there’s nothing to help me make a choice. And then, I hear it: a moan, a moan of agony. It sounds like a lost soul. Or maybe is it just in my head? Either way, I can’t find the source of it. So I go the logical way: the elevator in front of me. The place is as much a mess as the rest. A pentagram has been drawn around the button of floor 3… the floor I’m on now. There is a bloody fingerprint on the button for floor 7, the last floor. I press it. The door closes in front of me and I feel it going up. I wonder what awaits me up there. Maybe I’ll find the fucker who ruined my niece’s work.