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> file: " stagnant "
>> tw paranoia, anxiety, depression, self - harm, needles, gore, medical instruments, restraints, other hospital/asylum themes
>> tw paranoia, anxiety, depression, self - harm, needles, gore, medical instruments, restraints, other hospital/asylum themes
Rumours spread quickly throughout the asylum, if you knew where to look for them.
Norton Campbell had his methods of ratting out information, picking up bits of conversations here and there. It hadn& #39;t taken him long to make a mental map of the building and the general rooms -
Norton Campbell had his methods of ratting out information, picking up bits of conversations here and there. It hadn& #39;t taken him long to make a mental map of the building and the general rooms -
and locations of several of the other patients that resided there. It was a lot simpler than trying to wrap one& #39;s head around tunnels and keeping track of deposits or work forces. It just came naturally to him.
He himself didn& #39;t have any intentions of escaping, however. -
He himself didn& #39;t have any intentions of escaping, however. -
It was almost automatic, rather than intentional, for him to keep track of his surroundings, but it did come in handy when it came to exchanging information with other patients, and on occasion, even the staff members he interacted with.
Obviously, it was a lot easier to get -
Obviously, it was a lot easier to get -
info out of other patients - with the staff members and doctors, it was almost like an art form, finding ways to manipulate their words and thoughts to get some scraps of truth and data out of them. With several pieces to a bigger puzzle, he could make more sense of the -
situation he was in.
Most of the others called him Jarhead, or by his patient number. Names were heavily discouraged in the asylum, likely to keep the patients feeling helpless and controlled, no doubt. Without a sense of identity, they were less likely to cause trouble.
Most of the others called him Jarhead, or by his patient number. Names were heavily discouraged in the asylum, likely to keep the patients feeling helpless and controlled, no doubt. Without a sense of identity, they were less likely to cause trouble.
Or escape.
Yes, more recently, the murmurings of an escape plan had reached his ears. It wasn& #39;t the first time he& #39;d heard of such a plan since he arrived at the asylum, but most often than not, the staff caught onto the attempts before they& #39;d scarcely began.
More interestingly-
Yes, more recently, the murmurings of an escape plan had reached his ears. It wasn& #39;t the first time he& #39;d heard of such a plan since he arrived at the asylum, but most often than not, the staff caught onto the attempts before they& #39;d scarcely began.
More interestingly-
enough, were the patients who were supposedly taking part in the escape plan. He was familiar with a few of them, even having interacted with some of them more than the others.
Were they actually serious about it? There couldn& #39;t be any way they were. A couple of them simply -
Were they actually serious about it? There couldn& #39;t be any way they were. A couple of them simply -
didn& #39;t seem like the type to consider escaping, but perhaps one of them had convinced them otherwise. Or, equally as likely, they& #39;d finally somehow reached a new breaking point, and freedom was the only way to sate it.
He made a mental note to check up each of them the next -
He made a mental note to check up each of them the next -
time he came across them. Of course, he wouldn& #39;t mention the plan directly to them, but a few conversations and well placed words here and there would likely prompt them into showing some tell or other of their true intentions.
And who knows, maybe he would even assist them, -
And who knows, maybe he would even assist them, -
if it came to that.
On top of the individuals taking part in the plan, Norton hadn& #39;t heard anything on the staff& #39;s side. Usually, someone would squeak or slip up and alert them to their plans. That, or a feeble act of defiance would surely tip them off. But he hadn& #39;t heard -
On top of the individuals taking part in the plan, Norton hadn& #39;t heard anything on the staff& #39;s side. Usually, someone would squeak or slip up and alert them to their plans. That, or a feeble act of defiance would surely tip them off. But he hadn& #39;t heard -
of anything, save for a recent incident the day before.
Supposedly, a patient had tried to escape on their own. They were armed, and that& #39;s all he knew. He couldn& #39;t get much information out of anyone else yet, but he& #39;d just have to bide his time and wait for it.
Someone would-
Supposedly, a patient had tried to escape on their own. They were armed, and that& #39;s all he knew. He couldn& #39;t get much information out of anyone else yet, but he& #39;d just have to bide his time and wait for it.
Someone would-
talk. Someone always talked. That& #39;s just how it went.
Lost in his thoughts, a sudden light shining in his eyes yanked him back to reality. Someone had turned on the lights in his room, and he could hear the sound of the door unlocking. The doctors were here.
Lost in his thoughts, a sudden light shining in his eyes yanked him back to reality. Someone had turned on the lights in his room, and he could hear the sound of the door unlocking. The doctors were here.
He recognized two of them, but the others were ones he wasn& #39;t so familiar with. As they approached him from behind, he took a deep breath, relaxing his facial features. Even something as minor as a change in expressions could set them off, and he didn& #39;t need any unnecessary -
trouble right now. He preferred to cause it on his own terms, when necessary, or out of boredom. At least, that& #39;s what he& #39;d always told himself. He& #39;d never admit that they had ever gotten to him.
Not yet. Not yet. They could do whatever they wanted with him, but there was -
Not yet. Not yet. They could do whatever they wanted with him, but there was -
no way they would be able to wipe his very person like they did with the other patients. It was sad, really, considering he would& #39;ve looked forward to a submissive, mindless existence where the only thing he had to worry about was the next injection or test on him.
One of them called out his patient number, and he turned to follow them out of the room. He knew where he& #39;d be taken next - one of the windowless rooms that was dimly lit and fairly empty, save for a musty bed and monitors. He didn& #39;t even need to be led, already laying down -
obediently on the bed by himself.
God, what he would& #39;ve done just to spit in one of their faces, but there wasn& #39;t any point in acting out at the moment. Misbehaving was only a temporary sense of freedom that was only met with punishment. Even if it felt good in the moment, -
God, what he would& #39;ve done just to spit in one of their faces, but there wasn& #39;t any point in acting out at the moment. Misbehaving was only a temporary sense of freedom that was only met with punishment. Even if it felt good in the moment, -
it was better used as a distraction, or something like that.
The doctors were speaking to each other in low voices behind their clipboards, too quietly for him to hear. He could already guess what they were discussing, the room nearly being routine for him by now.
The doctors were speaking to each other in low voices behind their clipboards, too quietly for him to hear. He could already guess what they were discussing, the room nearly being routine for him by now.
Almost right on cue, another doctor rolled a tray into the room, with various instruments and vials on top.
Another one took a hold of his limbs and started strapping them down to the bed, the worn leather chafing his skin. The restraints almost felt like an old friend, -
Another one took a hold of his limbs and started strapping them down to the bed, the worn leather chafing his skin. The restraints almost felt like an old friend, -
almost akin to holding someone& #39;s hand to brace for pain.
One of the doctors filled one of the syringes, carefully measuring it out before moving his arm. His sleeves were already rolled up, so all they had to do was search for a suitable vein.
Even though he& #39;d lost track -
One of the doctors filled one of the syringes, carefully measuring it out before moving his arm. His sleeves were already rolled up, so all they had to do was search for a suitable vein.
Even though he& #39;d lost track -
of the countless times, Norton still couldn& #39;t help but cast his gaze elsewhere when the needle slid in. It wasn& #39;t gentle by any means, and he wouldn& #39;t have been surprised if it was on purpose. He clenched his teeth, managing not to make a sound as the mystery fluid was -
injected.
It took a few moments for anything to feel any different. He noticed his heartbeat picking up first, quickening to a fast pace in his ears. His thoughts grew less clear, muddling together into a messy fog of letters and concepts as his body grew hotter in temperature.
It took a few moments for anything to feel any different. He noticed his heartbeat picking up first, quickening to a fast pace in his ears. His thoughts grew less clear, muddling together into a messy fog of letters and concepts as his body grew hotter in temperature.
His chest felt like it was clamping up, like someone had grabbed his heart and was squeezing it in their fist.
God.
A ragged gasp escaped the patient as his back arched, a weak attempt to try and ride out the pain. A hand pushed him back against the bed, holding him there.
-
God.
A ragged gasp escaped the patient as his back arched, a weak attempt to try and ride out the pain. A hand pushed him back against the bed, holding him there.
-
Fuck.
He didn& #39;t know if he was thinking those words, or shouting them out. He heard screaming, and found his throat was stinging. Bloodied, even - he definitely tasted blood. Was it from his throat or his tongue that he was biting? It was hard to tell the difference, or -
He didn& #39;t know if he was thinking those words, or shouting them out. He heard screaming, and found his throat was stinging. Bloodied, even - he definitely tasted blood. Was it from his throat or his tongue that he was biting? It was hard to tell the difference, or -
even focus on one sense at a time.
He didn& #39;t know how long it lasted, but after what felt like an eternity, he was laying on his back still, with the straps still tight around his wrists and ankles.
What was he thinking about? He couldn& #39;t quite remember. It was like the -
He didn& #39;t know how long it lasted, but after what felt like an eternity, he was laying on his back still, with the straps still tight around his wrists and ankles.
What was he thinking about? He couldn& #39;t quite remember. It was like the -
thoughts had slipped between his fingers, and the more he tried to grasp them, the further they escaped from him.
One thing at a time.
His name was Norton Campbell. He was a patient at the asylum.
He had no intention of escaping this hellhole.
He came here by choice.
One thing at a time.
His name was Norton Campbell. He was a patient at the asylum.
He had no intention of escaping this hellhole.
He came here by choice.
It was a special kind of personal punishment.
