Author's Note: Wrote this back in 2015. At one time, it was part of a multi-chapter story, but (on impulse) I deleted the rest of the story years ago. I recently rediscovered the surviving first chapter, so thought I would share it.

Insane. It's the kindest thing they can call us. Maniacal laughter echoes off of the wall of my lonely cell. I lay in my cot, on my back as I stare up at my plain ceiling. It's been a year. I know this much from the wall of tally marks I've written on one of the walls. Written in my own blood.

The guards at Arkham do not care much for us inmates. Overall, they let us get away with more than we should. However, if it's one thing they're terrified of, it's weapons. Selfish bastards are only out for themselves.

They ignore our screams. They ignore our violence. They ignore the fact that Arkham is just a cage filled with rabid animals. Sooner or later, some of us are going to escape.

"Recreation time!" one of the guards screams. Seconds later, my cell door swings open.

It would be so easy to start a riot. All one needed to do was get to the security room. Press a button. Then boom. All of the electronically locked cell doors would creak open.

I turned my head and stared at the entrance to my cell for a moment. Then I swung my legs over the side of my bed and rose to my feet. I made my way down the hallway with the others psychopaths who inhabited the same floor as me.

I missed the chaos of society. Everything was so simple. Some people were good. Others were bad. I was what one would consider the bad. I didn't understand why I was the bad guy, though. I was good. All I did was kill the bad. Yet they still locked me away in here to rot.

The small crowd of women followed the path lined with guards as we walked through the asylum, slowly making our way to the recreation center. All of the guards were men. The women prisoners cooed and whispered about them around me as we marched on. Occasionally I'd hear one of the women on my floor getting off on the thought of one of the guards punishing her.

I had never taken an interest in any of the men. Maybe because none of them had spared me a second glance. Maybe none of the other women spoke to me because I was oblivious to what attractive men looked like. Either way, I didn't care.

When we entered the recreation center, the male inmates were already there. The protocol for recreation hours was to have one floor of men and one floor of women in there at the same time. The guards honestly didn't care what happened to us. Women were raped all the time and the guards never thought twice about it. However, if there was any idea of a fight, the guards would send us all back to our cells. Like I said before, they're all out for themselves.

I had been lucky. No one had any idea I was there. I always remained quiet. Got a book from one of the guards and sat quietly in a corner. I was a murderer, but that didn't mean I was looking for trouble.

Today seemed like a normal day. Some of the women were off flirting with the men and guards and others were in small groups of the same gender. Mingling at tables as if they were in a high school cafeteria.

I had heard stories about other floors having one lunatic that became the alpha. Walked around at recreation like he owned the place. Everyone was scared of him. Luckily, here we did not have one of those.

I was ripped from my book when I heard shouting. I always paid attention to outbursts. For all I knew, someone could be charging towards me with a knife. I wasn't taking any chances. This outburst was not that case though.

It was the guards. They had opened up one of the barred doors to the room and were yelling at a couple of prisoners to back away. The sound of handcuffs being unlocked followed. Then a new body entered the room.

It was a young man. He appeared to be my age. Hell, even a year younger. He was fairly tall and lanky. His issued back and white striped uniform hung on him loosely. Most importantly, he had hair the color of fire. Now this was what I considered attractive.

He immediately looked in my direction. The furthest corner. Our eyes locked. It was unnerving. No one ever looked at me. I immediately broke eye contact and buried my face in my book once more. Shit. Someone had finally noticed me.