0 - 0 - 0

My mother always said that anything at all can be made into a story; it was just a matter of deciding where the story began, and where it ended. She was gifted like that, I guess. She was a storyteller, or at least someone who occasionally told one when the mood struck her. And perhaps, after all, knowing how stories began and ended made things easier — the lives of famous individuals, great works of art, each one of them neat and orderly, like books lined up on a shelf, waiting to be plucked out and inspected, only to be put back where they belonged, until the next story.

I wish she was with me now. She always had a way with words that I never had. If she was, I would have asked her how she would have started this particular story. Would she have chosen to start in my younger years? When I was an adolescent, and still learning the ways of the world and would eventually lead to the present date? Would she have started with the story of the Asylum — of Remnant Correctional Facility — and the lives that came and went through her halls? Because the Asylum is most definitely a 'she' for my father had always said, in that dry yet sardonic tone he always seemed to have, that it would naturally be a woman to drive one truly insane.

Because I am insane. That much is clear to me now. I don't know exactly when I finally began to understand the depth of my madness, my depravity, but I do know it began, ultimately, with the Asylum. Or, perhaps more specifically, those within her.

Perhaps she would start with describing the construction of building herself? I don't believe I can. Because, while I know the exact date the foundation was first laid, I don't think I can imagine a time where something didn't stand in that spot, casting an eerie shadow on the black, muddy earth.

Maybe she would start two weeks before, with the letter I received in the mail regarding my internship. I had applied to a number of correctional facilities, hospitals, and clinics in the hopes of getting some so-called 'real-life experience' in the medical field I was studying for. It's just as well that the Asylum — to this day I still can't really think of it as Remnant Correctional Facility — was the most notable and positive response I received.

Or she might have started the story at six o'clock that morning, when Klien first appeared at my bedroom door to wake me and serve my morning tea. No, of course she wouldn't. After all, nobody would be interested in hearing about a nineteen year old girl going through her morning routine, brushing her hair, washing her face and eating breakfast alone at a table suited for twenty.

No… she would probably start it later that morning at the gates to the Asylum; at the checkpoint where everyone from visitor, guard, physician, to patient must pass through when they first arrive. That's probably where the story truly begins, and so, that is where I will start.

After all, it is when I first glimpsed the Asylum herself where my memory is the most vivid.

0 - 0 - 0

Simpatico

0 - 0 - 0

January 1, 2017

New Years Day

I was greeted by a stern, but tired-looking guard at the gate who had to peer at his computer screen for a full minute before finally finding my name on his list. Another minute or two of waiting — time spent idly watching the chain-linked fence and barbed wire spool across the top like those old prison movies usually had — until another guard came from the main building itself to collect me.

Then I was led from the guard station past the fence. And as I made to step through the gate to the facility, I took a moment to look down and straighten my skirt and jacket, which was plain but professional-looking enough for an interview, and nearly tripped on a piece of fence that was jutting out into the edge of the pathway. I righted myself, and looked up to see the Asylum herself, unobscured by fencing.

I had seen pictures of Remnant Correctional Facility, of course, online and in periodicals. I even downloaded a floor plan of the building after getting the internship there and spent a while studying the layout. The facility — because she legally wasn't a hospital, though there was one a short three minute drive away* — had a curious kind of charm to her, the main building a short, squat, two story thing made up of shades of a whitish grey plaster and rust-colored brick. Two smaller buildings flanked the main compound on either side, which I knew belonged to the two main wards. One for men and the other for women.

*Though the facility wasn't legally a hospital, at least at the time, there was a small on-site clinic with a few licensed medical practitioners. This was a requirement of the state, much the same as most educational facilities having a health center on campus, with all the same trimmings. Though, the man that ran the Asylum's clinic was anything but a school nurse. I certainly wouldn't let my kids anywhere near that man. Or myself for that matter. I'm pretty sure his own mother avoided him at Christmas. Poor bastard.

As I approached, though, I began to realize that Remnant Correctional Facility was not charming. She seemed too large, and her lines and angles, made up of chipped and warped brick and flaking, yellowed plaster upon closer inspection, seemed less impressive and more... wrong. Perverse. With each step closer to her main gate I began to feel as if the looming walls and barred windows had originally been designed by a man stuck in a nightmare or stricken with madness — or, perhaps, that it was designed expressly to drive its inmates mad.

At least, I knew I would eventually be driven mad, should I have to spend every day within her hopeless-looking walls. But, then again, that may have been the whole point.

The air seemed to grow sour the closer I approached, led by an unflinching guard up the straight and narrow path that led from the outer gate to her main doors. It seemed to get darker as well, the shadows reaching out towards me from the jaundiced bricks the color of old bruises. The soil was damp and dark, perpetually wet and sticky.

We finally reached the doorway and, with the quiet swish of glass doors, I stepped from dark, dank, and foreboding into the clean, brightly lit and sterile. I blinked as the overhead lights buzzed softly, washing out my vision for a moment as my eyes adjusted to the change. I heard the murmur of the guard as he left my side, and for the briefest moment I was alone.

The entryway was plain enough, and opened up into a sort-of greeting room. A few plants littered the walls, as well as some stock pictures — a typical waiting room you'd see at any doctor's office anywhere. There were also seats and two couches arranged neatly, but conspicuously facing an open window leading to another room. A sleepy-looking woman sat behind the portal, idly watching her computer screen and sipping at a steaming paper cup.

Shaking off the odd feeling of disorientation of stepping from darkness to light, and foreboding into clarity, I walked up to the little window.

"Good morning," I greeted the woman.

"Good morning," she replied dutifully, even though she looked like she wanted nothing more than to go home and crawl back into bed. I could relate. "Can I help you?"

"Yes. Hi. My name is Weiss Schnee. I am here regarding the internship…?"

I had hoped that would be enough to let her know who I was and why I was here without digging through my bag for all the corresponding paperwork. At least, at first. And from the flicker that crossed her face, it looked like I had triggered something. "Oh… oh! Yes, we've been expecting you." She turned slightly to her keyboard and the tac-tac-tac of her manicured nails filled the room for a moment. "Yes," she confirmed, nodding to me. "I'll let them know you're here. If you'd like to have a seat, someone will be right with you."

I gave a tight smile and started to turn when she blinked, remembering, "Oh! Right, if you could please fill in this paperwork…" She slid a clipboard over the divide.

Lovely, more forms. Oh well. Bureaucracy is, as they say, the lifeblood of civilized society. I took the clipboard and returned to a comfy-looking couch and perched atop it, giving the form a once-over as I retrieved a pen from my handbag.

Name, sex, address, contact information, emergency contacts. All very basic information. I spent a few minutes filling out the necessary information from memory, slipping out my phone for the more detailed information I couldn't be bothered to remember. After all, who actually remembers most phone numbers these days, even those of your emergency contacts?

A few minutes passed in silence, and while I considered whether or not I should just get up and hand my completed paperwork to the helpful woman behind the desk simply for something to do, one of the double doors beside the windowed office opened and someone walked out.

The young woman, who looked just a few years older than I was at first glance, took a quick look around the waiting room. She saw me and threw on a smile, striding toward me with quick, sure steps. "Weiss?" she asked, reaching out her hand as I rose to greet her.

"Yes," I said, taking her hand and shaking it. "Good morning. Well," I amended, "Happy New Year."

"You too," she said, dropping my hand. "Welcome to Remnant Correctional Facility. We're really glad you accepted the internship here." Her smile hadn't left her face, and the openness of her whole expression immediately made me like her. Her mint green hair should have clashed with the soft brown tone of her skin, but for some reason, it only seemed to highlight her features better; like the pale crimson of her eyes.

"I'm glad you accepted the internship. Me, um, me for the internship, I mean," I mumbled. Wow, what a great start, girl.

The woman didn't seem perturbed by my sudden awkwardness, instead, smiled wider and said, "I'm Emerald Sustrai. I'm on the Administrative Staff here, and I'll be your mentor." She paused for a moment. "Basically, you'll follow me around for a while until you get your feet wet. Cool?"

I grinned. "Cool."

"Great. Well then, let's go." And with that, she turned on her heel and walked towards the double doors she came from.

"I filled these out," I said, handing over my forms once I caught up with her. "Do I give them to you?"

She blinked at me, and shrugged. "Sure, I can hang onto them. I'm just going to file your data into the system later anyway. As she took the sheets and slipped them into her clipboard, she chuckled, "Well, I may have you do it yourself, actually."

"Fine by me," I laughed in turn. "So what's first?"

"First is orientation, then a tour around the facility."

I nodded, falling into step beside her as we began navigating the white-washed hallways. We passed by some empty rooms that looked to be offices and, curious at the people in and out of what was clearly a uniform of some kind, I asked, "How many people do you have here?"

"People?"

"Well, inmates and staff. Faculty?" I hedged at the correct wording.

Emerald made a thoughtful noise. "Maybe around… a hundred and fifty?"

"That many!" I gasped.

She shrugged. "It's actually not that many. Most correctional facilities — prisons and similar places — can have many more. We only have about a hundred actual patients and anywhere from forty to fifty salaried staff. And that's not including the part-timers and janitorial workers." At my look, she elaborated, "we're sort of privately funded, so our investors have an interest in fewer inmates, which means more quality care."

I hummed thoughtfully. "Makes sense."

We chatted about some of the basic information about the Asylum until we arrived at a small office. Then Emerald sat me down with a stack of printouts to go over with me. It was to be, she explained, my employee handbook. It had everything I needed to know during my time there, including but not limited to employee policies, daily schedules, basic information about the inmates and staff, and a bit about the history of the building. Nothing I didn't already know, but it was still nice to have. I thanked her and, after going over my internship contract with her, we continued the tour on the way to finish my orientation.

We walked down yet another blank white hallway — there were a lot of those, I swear — and came to a steel door. Emerald swiped a card across a reader and it chimed. She opened it and waved me through to the room within.

"Hey, you made it!" A tall, slightly built man declared as we walked inside and the door shut behind us with a quiet swish. He rose to his feet and flicked a lock of grey hair out of his eyes with a hand, approaching us from a large window partway across the room. "'Bout time, Em." He paused, seeing me, and blinked rapidly.

"Happy New Year, Mercury," Emerald said tiredly. "Meet Weiss, the new intern." He blinked again, this time with a curious tilt of his head. "The med student?" Still no recognition. She sighed. "The one we had that meeting about last week?"

"Oh!" There it was. "Oh, yeah! Great! Glad to have you!" He shook my hand, and I nodded politely. Not quite the first impression that Emerald made, but at least he was nice enough.

"Nice to meet you," I said pleasantly.

"Yeah, nice, nice." Mercury turned back towards the window, gesturing for the two of us to follow. "Anyway, like I said, about time. You made it just in time for breakfast."

At my confused look, Emerald guided me towards the large window. "He means breakfast for the patients." And true enough, on the other side of the clear glass, was a medium-sized cafeteria with scattered tables filled with people. Some were in groups, some were by themselves, others were walking around, the entire scene looking for all the world like your everyday school cafeteria. It was so similar to my own university's lunch area, I nearly laughed at the sight if it wasn't for the guards posted at the doorways. After a moment, Emerald continued, "Right now is breakfast for the main wards; A and B now, with wards C and D an hour later."

"Ahh," I said thoughtfully. I had read about that; Wards A to D were the 'low risk' male and female wards, while Wards E and F were more 'higher risk', and therefore had to be completely separate from the rest of the patients. It made sense to separate the two groups for everyone's safety. Idly, I wondered just how much free reign each group got during mealtimes. "So what happens after they finish breakfast?" I asked, curious.

"Wel—" Emerald started to say, but was cut off by Mercury.

"Then they get free time until about ten." He stepped up to my side to watch the everyday, yet somehow still odd proceedings through the window. "The low-risk does, at least. They can go to their rooms, they can chill in the common areas, they can go outside as long as they stay within the perimeter. They can see visitors if they have any. They can pretty much do whatever they want within reason until then. Then it's mandatory isolation time until lunch at noon. The high-risk just get sent back to their rooms until lunch. The only breaks they get are premeditated by their attending physician or psych."

I nodded. "Got it." We spent a few minutes watching the men and women in the Facility's white, drab uniforms eat and socialize before I broke the silence. "And after lunch?"

Again, Emerald was interrupted by Mercury. "It depends," he said with a shrug. "There are different afternoon schedules for different days. You'll get used to the goings-on here soon enough, but today there's physical trainers that come in and work with different groups for a few hours until dinner time." He paused for a moment, and said, "and then some free time before lights out. Next day, same shit, etcetera etcetera."

"It's all very well organized and scripted." Emerald chimed in, sending a pointed look towards Mercury, who shrugged.

"It sounds like you guys run a tight ship," I observed.

Mercury snorted, "yeah, well, only because we got a tight-ass captain." He didn't elaborate.

We spent a while watching the inmates eat their meals until a bell rang, signaling the end of their groups' breakfast time, and the start of the next time block. They slowly began to clean up their areas, reminding me of a university cafeteria as opposed to the bedlam that was a high school lunchroom, and start to mill out of the doors. The guards watched on with hooded and watchful eyes. It seemed as though they took their job seriously, low risk groups or not.

"Well, now that that's done," Mercury said, clapping his hands together as the last of the patients disappeared through the doors. "What do you ladies say we get the tour started?"

"I've already been showing her around." Emerald crossed her arms over her chest.

"You showed her the offices, am I right?" the young man rolled his eyes, turning towards me with a grin. "You still need to see the Wards, don'cha?"

"She's not scheduled to see the Wards yet." Emerald's frown deepened. "There's still some paperwork to go over, we've gotta get her into the system, and she still needs to meet with Cinder."

Waving off his coworker's arguments, Mercury pushed away from the window and strode towards the door. "Come on, that shit can wait 'till we take her around the Wards. I mean, she's gotta see 'em sometime, right? And Cinder is meeting with the Doc right now so she won't be free for another hour at least." When neither of us moved he sighed heavily. "Come on, I mean we have to pass by the Wards towards the Administrative Offices in the back anyway, right? So let's hit them up on the way. Scenic route style."

I looked from Mercury to Emerald, who seemed to be mulling over his words in her head. After a moment, she finally relented, nodding. "Alright," she said, "as long as we fill in her info before lunch. If we don't Cinder'll eat me alive."

"Wouldn't that be a tragedy*?" Mercury snorted sardonically, but swiftly opened the door and stepped to the side. "After you, ladies."

*Spoilers: Not nearly as fun as Mercury is implying.

Walking the now-populated hallways was very different then walking through them empty. With the patients and guards now milling around during their free time made the entire experience seem even more like walking through a school, and if the blatant stares and sidelong glances sent my way as I followed Mercury and Emerald, I felt even more like a kid on her first day.

There were people of all sizes and ages, the oldest having white hair or none at all, hobbling along with the assistance of a nurse or acquaintance, while the youngest seemed barely old enough to be out of high school. Men, women, boys and girls, they all passed by with the same sort of hang-dog expression, like they had little to no idea what they wanted to do, only going through the motions because it was expected of them.

Go this way, do this thing, talk to this person. But only if you want. If you don't, then you're free to be alone, do nothing, and go nowhere. It was as neat a box as anyone could be put in. And what was worse; it was necessary. These people needed their box, their instruction, and their prison. They were dangerous by various degrees, to themselves and those around them.

I couldn't forget that.

After a while the crowd started to die down and the hallways became emptier. Apparently the patients had finally arrived at their morning 'haunts' and only a few still lingered here and there, walking the whitewash hallways with nowhere to go or nothing to do except wander or chat amongst themselves.

I started as Mercury paused by a doorway, looking back at me with an odd smile on his face.

"How about a quick stop?" he said simply.

"Mercury," Emerald warned.

"What kind of a stop?" I asked, wary but still curious. Mercury gestured towards a placard set into the wall beside the door, indicating that I should read it. I stepped closer to make out the words.

Room: A-7

Name: Velvet Scarlatina

Group: A

Visitors: Y

Underneath the plaque was a sheet of paper pinned to the wall with today's date and various information filled out, but nothing I could make out without further inspection. Still curious, I turned back to Mercury and Emerald. "Velvet? Is she a patient?"

"She is," Emerald said at length, staring hard at Mercury.

"Is she," I hesitated. "...dangerous?"

Mercury's grin widened. "Not to you."

Not entirely sure what he meant by that, I sent a look to Emerald. "Maybe I should fill out my information first…"

The woman opened her mouth to speak, but Mercury beat her to it. "Come on, it'll be a great introduction to life here. You have to interact with the patients eventually. Might as well be now." He shrugged, totally blasé. "And take it from me, Velvet doesn't have a malicious bone in her body. She's a total kitten."

Emerald snorted. "You mean a bunny rabbit, don't you?"

"Eh," the man waggled his hand. "Potatoes, po-tah-toes." He turned to face me, a grin spreading across his features. "The point is, we're giving you water wingies, here. You down to swim a little?"

I looked from Mercury to Emerald, hoping to gain some insight from the woman as to how to deal with him, but got nothing but a resigned expression. I raised my eyebrows in silent question, and she shrugged.

"Velvet's really nice," she said by way of explanation. "And it might be a good way for you to get started. If you wanted."

I sighed. Well, it was true that I didn't mind meeting any of the patients on my first day. I just wasn't expecting to do so in my first hour.

"Alright. She's not dangerous, you said?"

"Not to you," Mercury repeated ominously.

Before I could ask him to elaborate, Emerald sighed. "She's not dangerous. He's just being an ass. As usual."

"'Em! You wound me!"

"Oh, I'll wound you, all right," she retorted, shoving her middle finger right under his nose. And I couldn't help but grin at the by-play of the two as they bickered.

After a few moments, Mercury stepped back and angled a look at me. "So you down?"

I sighed. "Sure. Let's go meet Velvet."

"Sweet." And with that, the man turned to swipe his card through a reader by the knob and paused, leveling me with a suddenly serious look. "Just one thing: don't stare."

I blinked. "At what?"

"You'll see." Then he opened the door.

I admit, I expected a lot of different things in that room. In retrospect, I should have realized that most of my expectations when faced with an actual patient in an asylum were slightly off-the-wall. A straitjacket-bound, chittering basketcase with haphazardly-shorn hair on their head, dribbling spit and other fluids as they rocked themselves in a corner of the room. That was my mental picture of a mental patient from years of television and movies. And while there were assuredly some along those lines — a handful placed at Remnant Asylum, to be specific — that was not what I was when I first met Velvet.

She was, much to my surprise, just a girl not much older than me. She sat cross-legged on her bed, simply reading a book. Her long brown hair was pooled around her waist as she looked up to see the three of us entering into her space. She smiled shyly when she saw Emerald, and closed her book.

"Emerald! Happy New Year," she said, and I was taken aback at how quiet her voice was, even though her greeting seemed energetic enough.

"Hi Velvet. Happy New Year. How are you this morning?"

"I'm well, thank you." She turned her attention to Mercury. "Hello Mercury." Her tone was still warm, but her voice grew even softer.

"Heya Vel," the man replied, stepping to the side to let me into the spotlight. "This here is Weiss. She's a new Intern here, and we're showing her the ropes. Thought we'd drop by and introduce her."

"Oh!" The smile on her girl's face grew even wider — though still subdued — and she uncurled her legs to get up from the bed. She rose to stand, and moved her hand up to brush her hair behind her ear. And in doing so, I finally saw what Mercury had meant by 'don't stare'.

Her ears were bright red, raw and jagged around the cartilage, and were held together around the ends by strings and thin strips of metal where the strings weren't thick enough. My first thought was that she clearly went overboard with piercings, but a second glance proved that they were not earrings or strips of metal — staples, my mind supplied — but actual stitching. They looked painful, and it took me longer than it should have to tear my gaze away from them to return to Velvet's eyes.

But from the look on her face, it had been long enough.

"Um..." she muttered softly, looking at her feet. "W-what?"

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence until Emerald stepped closer. "Velvet," she said gently. "The Doctor told you to stop picking at the stitches."

The girl nodded meekly, still staring at the floor. "I know. But they itch so much." Her lower lip trembled, and she looked close to crying.

"They can't heal if you keep making it worse."

"I know. I'm sorry." Her shoulders shook. "They're not nearly as bad as the teeth, but they still hurt."

"Teeth?" I repeated, before I could stop myself.

Another beat of silence passed, then Mercury cleared his throat. "Velvet, here, has a peculiar sort of clinical lycanthropy." I blinked a few times, and he explained, "It's a rare psychiatric syndrome that involves a delusion where the affected person believes they can, or have, transformed into an animal." He gestured to the girl standing before us. "In Velvet's case, she believes that she…"

He trailed off, and I felt more than heard Velvet sigh. "I believed that I was part rabbit," she said softly. "I…had extensive cosmetic surgery done to myself to change the way I look. I'd hoped that—" she paused, hunching her shoulders and seeming to shrink into herself and her massive amount of hair. "That I would be able to fully transform into a rabbit if I did. My ears…" she reached up and gingerly touched the tattered lobe of an ear. "My teeth…" she covered her mouth with the palm of her hand. "I.. recently had my tail removed, but I had one... "

She took a deep breath. "Among other things," she said with quiet finality.

"All of which, of course, would not have made her a rabbit," Mercury stressed, flicking his eyes to Velvet, who nodded slowly. "Which is why she is here."

"Right," the girl agreed quietly. "I know that now."

Emerald shifted next to Weiss, licking her lips before she softly asked, "Are you going to join in on phys-ed this afternoon, Velvet?"

The girl seemed to consider that for a few moments, before shaking her head. "No. My parents are visiting today, so I'm going to see them."

"Oh! That's good," I said. "I'm sure they'll be happy to see how you're doing."

For the first time since I made the mistake of looking at Velvet's ears, the girl stared up at me, her eyes drawn and tired-looking. She slowly shook her head and smiled sadly. The barest hint of her top teeth peeked out through her parted lips, jagged and broken like her ears. Everything painted a bleak and barren picture of a sad, lonely girl who lost everything, and had nothing waiting for her.

"I doubt it," she said simply.

We left the room then, the door letting out a quiet click as it shut behind us. I followed Mercury and Emerald down a hallway until we rounded a corner, and then Emerald leaned up against a wall.

"Jesus," she muttered, covering her eyes with the back of her hand.

Mercury grinned ruefully. "Yeah… sorry about that," he said at me. "That didn't exactly go how I'd wanted it to."

Emerald snorted. "You think? Fuck me, that was…"

"She was… so sad," I said, curbing anything that Emerald would have said.

"Yeah, well, she definitely has her off days." Mercury folded his arms over his chest. "And staring at her ears certainly didn't help."

I felt me cheeks warm, knowing he was probably right. I had been staring.

"Oh, come on, you barely gave her any warning. 'Don't stare'? Like that was supposed to prepare her? At least tell her what she's not supposed to stare at."

"Yeah, yeah," he grunted. "My bad." He turned back to me and sighed. "Look, sorry about that. She's really the sweetest girl most of the time."

"I believe you. She really does seem sweet." I looked back in the direction of her room. "It's strange though. There are plenty of people who have extensive surgery to alter their appearance, and they lead perfectly normal lives. Why is she here?"

Emerald and Mercury shifted uncomfortably, looking at each other in silence for a moment. Mercury shrugged, and Emerald bit her lip. "She's not here because of the surgery," she said slowly.

I blinked. "Then why is she here?"

They shared another look, as if deciding who would be the one to tell me.

Apparently, Mercury drew the metaphorical short straw. "Well, you know that she believed she was part rabbit, and was trying to become one fully, right?"

"Yeah."

"Right, well," he looked around, trying to see if anyone was nearby. When no one was, he still leaned closer to myself and Emerald. "She had a boyfriend, right? And they had a kid together. She was sixteen, and the boyfriend fell through because, well, he was apparently a bit of a douche."

"Also a typical sixteen year old boy," Emerald pointed out.

"Also there's that. With all the maturity that entails." Mercury nodded sagely. "Anyway, he bolts and she started to raise her daughter on her own, with her folks helping. The long and short of it is the baby died about a month later. SIDS."

My stomach dropped to my toes, and I felt my eyes begin to well up with tears. "Oh no… Poor Velvet."

"Yeah. But— look, have you ever raised rabbits before?"

"No."

"Guinea pigs? Hamsters?"

"I had hamsters when I was little. Two."

Mercury nodded. "Did they have babies?"

I pulled a face. "They were brother and sister, but that still didn't stop them. They had a few, but a couple died. The rest I gave away."

"What happened to the baby hamsters that died?"

"I…" my eyes widened with I saw where he was going with this. "Woke up the next morning and the… mom had... eaten them."

Mercury didn't say anything further; he simply looked at me, his gaze confirming everything that was too horrible to say out loud.

"Now you know why she's here," he finally murmured, turning away and continuing down the hallway.

Numb, I turned to look at Emerald. She looked sadly back at me, moving her shoulders as if to say, well, what can you do? Life fucking sucks sometimes, and moved after her coworker.

I turned to look one last time back in the direction of Velvet's room before following.

0 - 0 - 0

We made it through the entire Ward and part way through the next before Mercury stopped again.

"How about one more detour?" he asked, all previous traces of seriousness gone from his tone.

Emerald folded her arms across her chest. "Another one? After the last one ended so well?"

He shrugged. "I admit, Velvet was kind of a kick in the teeth. But hey, as long as we're doing this, we might as well go full bore."

Emerald looked at me, then back to Mercury. "What are you…?" she blinked, glanced down the hallway, her eyes narrowing. "No. Mercury, no."

"No?" he asked, smiling widely. "Or yes?"

"Absolutely not!" she repeated, stamping her foot on the floor for emphasis. "It's against regulations. She's not cleared. She hasn't even filled out her paperwork or completed her orientation! We can't just—"

"First of all, fuck regulations." He held up a finger, then it was joined by another. "Second of all, what's the worst that can happen if we just pop in and take a peek?"

"You know full well what can happen!" Emerald hissed.

"Only if we're stupid!"

"Don't let her hear you say that—"

"Oh, come on, she's fine now! It's just a scratch!"

"Just a scratch! Is that what you call it?"

"Hey!" Weiss nearly shouted, but reigned herself in at the last minute. Both Mercury and Emerald stopped to look at her, their expressions mirroring each other in surprise. "What's going on? Where are we going?"

"To the administration office," Emerald bit out.

"After a quick detour," Mercury amended. At the look of outrage on Emerald's face, he held up his hands. "I left my ID in Ward F last night! I have to get it to sign off on Weiss' paperwork!"

That brought Emerald up short. "You… you left it there last night? Are you an idiot?!"

"Admittingly… yes? I have my moments." Mercury sounded contrite, but his expression was anything but. "So… yeah, we gotta go and get it."

"Or you can go get it yourself, and we can meet you in the Admin Offices." Emerald lifted her chin a bit.

"You could," he replied, "but I can't get in alone. Buddy system, remember? And she can't be alone either!" he added before Emerald could say anything further. "Ya'know, Weiss having not gone through orientation yet, or anything."

I could practically hear Emerald's teeth grinding as she glared at Mercury's shit-eating grin. After a moment she relented, and her teeth probably wilted in relief. "Fine," she snarled. "We'll get your fucking ID card and get out. We can't be in there too long."

"Sweet. Let's jet." And with a flourish, Mercury turned and strode down another hallway.

"Where are we going?" I asked again, this time to a fuming Emerald.

She glared, but her anger wasn't directed at me. "Because Mercury's an idiot, we need to enter into Ward F to get his ID."

"Doesn't he already have it?" I asked, making a card swiping gesture with my hand.

"That's the entry card. Our IDs are different, and they have our employee numbers on them. I memorized mine but…" she trailed off, making a vague gesture to Mercury.

"My memorization skills suck!" he chirped by way of explanation.

"Exactly," Emerald shrugged. "So— we go into Ward F, get his card, then get out."

"Ward F…" I thought on that. "That's one of the high-security wards?"

Emerald nodded. "The female high-security ward. We don't have many patients there, but the ones we do have can be dangerous. Some never even leave their rooms. Total isolation."

"Never?" I echoed.

She shook her head. "Nope. A danger to themselves and to others."

"How many do you have in the Ward?"

The girl thought on that for a moment. "Six, I believe."

"Seven," corrected Mercury from up ahead. "Remember Raven? She was moved last week."

"Oh— yeah, that's right." Emerald tapped her bottom lip with a fingertip. "She was."

"Not that many," I observed.

"Not many," agreed Emerald. "But all of them are dangerous in their own way."

We passed through a few more identical hallways, a handful of faculty and patients coming and going as we made our way. Most of them exchanged greetings with Mercury and Emerald, and cast me more than a few curious looks. I nodded with the faculty and smiled with the more friendly-looking patients until we arrived at a sealed doorway, which Mercury unlocked and ushered us through. We passed through another round of security — a metal detector and a pat-down by a frowning, no-nonsense female security guard — and after being vetted by both Mercury and Emerald, I was allowed to follow them into the high security Ward.

"So where did you leave your ID, anyway?" Emerald asked as we passed a couple empty cubicles and meeting rooms.

"Down by the treatment rooms. In one of the desks I sometimes use."

"Which treatment room?" she said carefully.

He snorted, "You have to ask?"

Emerald groaned, and hung her head. "Of all the... "

"What?" I asked, sensing more that what was being said aloud. "What's wrong?"

We passed by a windowless room with a placard by the door that read:

Room: F-5

Name: Raven Branwen

Group: F

Visitors: N

The name 'Raven' reminded me of the woman Emerald and Mercury mentioned earlier, and that she had been moved to the high-risk ward recently. I filed the name away in my mind and kept pace with the other two as they walked down another, darker hallway.

"Nothing is wrong." Emerald didn't sound too sure of herself. "I just didn't want to indoctrinate you like this." She grimaced. "There's such a thing as 'too much, too soon', you know?"

Ah. So that's what she was afraid of? Scaring me off? Not likely. I wasn't about to let a little thing like being overwhelmed by crazy turn me off. Besides, I was a Schnee. And Schnee's don't get overwhelmed.

"Don't worry about me," I said confidently. "I'm one tough cookie. I can take a scare or two."

No sooner were the words out of my mouth that a sudden movement from the corner of my eye blurred into focus. A woman crashed against a glass wall to my left, screaming as she slammed her fists against the clear glass. I yelped in surprise, jumping back and holding my bag out in front of me in defense as I watched the insane woman — because that was clearly what she was — impotently try to beat her fists through the hardened glass wall on her cell. Her movements were wild, unnatural, like she was moving only on instinct with no regard for her own safety, and her eyes were wild with rage and pain.

"Fuck!" I breathed, backing away from the woman behind the glass.

After a while, when it became clear that I was safe, my heart rate began to slow and I felt the creep of warmth prickle the back of my neck. I purposely didn't look toward Mercury or Emerald as I gathered myself up and stood straight.

"Well," I cleared my throat. "Which way?"

With barely a snicker, Emerald turned and continued down the hallway.

Mercury wasn't quite as tactful. "Can take a scare or two, eh?"

"Fuck. Off." I said, not unkindly.

"Yeah. You'll fit in just fine here."

I didn't choose to respond to that, but I did smile a little.

"This way," Emerald said, opening a new door at the end of the hallway for us. Mercury passed through it and slowed upon entering, stopping just inside the new room. I entered after him, and after a moment, I understood why.

This new room was occupied by a small handful of men and women; two of which wore the unmistakable uniform of security. The other two, a man and a woman, were doctors of some kind. The man was tall and thin, his greying hair cut close to his head, but still had a thick mustache in trimmed in a dignified fashion that instantly reminded me of my father.

I tried to not let that color my initial judgement of the man.

The woman was short and stocky, and had the look of someone perpetually unhappy with the world. She peered at us form over her square glasses and narrowed her eyes, pursing her lips as the three of us crowded into the room.

The security and the female doctor regarded us with wariness and hesitation, but the tall doctor smiled thinly, tucking a clipboard under his arm as he turned fully to us. "Well, if it isn't Mister Black and Miss Sustrai." He nodded to both of them, and eyed me curiously. "And you must be Miss Schnee. I heard you were starting today, but hadn't expected to see you around for a while yet." He quirked a wry smile. "No doubt Mister Black is putting you through your paces early."

"Naturally, Doc Watts," the man said amiably.

"Um," Emerald chimed in. "We… we were just stopping by to get Mercury's ID. He left it here last night, right?"

"Right," the young man nodded.

Doctor Watts watched, his expression guarded from behind his mustache. "Of course," he said.

"Yes. So we'll just get that and go finish Weiss' paperwork…"

Emerald moved to the row of desks at the back of the room, but Doctor Watts lifted his hand, stopping her. "What's the rush? We were just about to administer treatment to Subject One-Oh-Oh-One-Eight-Nine. You are, of course, more than welcome to observe."

That seemed to catch Emerald off guard, and she looked to Mercury, who shrugged.

"Why not? We have time," he said by way of explanation.

Then Doctor Watts turned his attention to me. "What about you, Miss Schnee? Would you be interested in seeing what it is we do here at Remnant Correctional Facility?" He spoke slowly, enunciating clearly, as though he may have been speaking to a child. And, in a sense, I supposed he was; after all, I was nowhere near my element.

I was, however, determined. And I was a medical student. Or, at least, I aspired to be one. Someday.

"That sounds acceptable," I said, lifting my chin and standing a little straighter. "After all, If I'm going to be working here, I may as well get used to it. I'd love to observe if you'd let me."

The gleam in Doctor Watts' eye made me feel like I had both passed and failed a test, and I fought to keep my expression neutral.

"A wide decision," he said, and turned back toward the other doctor. "They will observe the treatment for Subject One-Oh-Oh-One-Eight-Nine. I will take responsibility for Miss Schnee in this case. Make a note, please."

"As you like, Doctor," the female doctor said stiffly, dutifully jotting down scribbles on her own clipboard.

With their attention off of me, I sidled up to Emerald, whispering, "what sort of treatment is he talking about?"

The girl hesitated, but murmured back, "dietary supplements with a dose of assorted medication for the patient."

I blinked, processing her words. "What patient? Subject One-Oh… whatever?" At her nod, I pressed, "Who is that?"

Emerald didn't reply; she simply pointed to a large window set into the side of the room. I leaned around her, and even the screaming woman from behind the glass couldn't prepare me for what I saw in the room beyond.

She was just a girl, younger than me at first glance. Tiny, almost childlike with how small she was, sat huddled in the far corner of the brightly lit room. She wore off-white drawstring pants and a long-sleeved, matching shirt that seemed two sizes too big. The pants, after noticing the size of the shirt, also seemed too large for her, and it was only after decided that her clothes were too big I realized that she wasn't nearly as tiny as I thought; only slightly smaller than me.

Which, considering how slender I was, wasn't very flattering.

Her hair was dark, very nearly black, and hung loosely ragged around her shoulders in a tangled, ratty mess. It effectively hid most of her face from view, but the slight rocking motion of her entire frame afforded me glimpses of pale skin from behind the curtain of dark, unruly hair. Her arms were curled around her knees in a tight hug, her hands clutching at her own forearms so tightly it was as if it was the only form of contact she would ever get in her life.

This… this was the proverbial "Mental Patient" I pictured in my head when I thought of what one would look like. But instead of curiosity, all I felt when I looked at her was pity. Pity, and sadness.

"She's… she's so young," I murmured to myself.

I must have spoken louder than I had intended, because Doctor Watts turned back towards me. "She might be young, Miss Schnee," he said slowly. "But make no mistake: she is dangerous." He nodded to the two guards, who approached the door to the inner room with the female doctor in tow. "Observe. You may commence the treatment, Doctor."

The woman nodded briskly and, after inputting a series of numbers on the pad near the door, it slid open with a neat little swoosh.

The reaction from the girl was almost instantaneous.

She lurched from her corner like she'd been burned, unfurling her limbs from her fetal position and into what was clearly a defensive crouch. She whirled around on the spot and, upon seeing the guards and doctor in the doorway, her entire body tensed like a string about to snap. I caught the barest glint her eyes from behind her mess of hair before she shrieked.

No. She didn't shriek. Humans shriek. The sound she made was so raw and animalistic I wasn't even sure it had been her that made the noise if she hadn't opened her mouth to let it out. She let out a howling, keening noise so high and full of insanity I very nearly felt it in my bones as I stepped back in shock. I felt Emerald and, surprisingly, Mercury step in close to me in solidarity as I watched the scene unfold in a matter of seconds, too much happening at once to recall in its entirety.

The girl charged the doctor, eyes alight with malice and her shriek high and piercing. Her hands outstretched, fingers hooked into claws as she advanced. The guards stepped forward in front of the doctor, and they worked as a single unit to subdue the girl; one pulled out a baton to bat her arms away and the other slipped in to restrain her. It should have been the end of it; hell, if it had been me I would have been finished after getting my wrist smacked with a large stick of metal.

But the girl wasn't done. She lurched with much more strength than I thought she had to throw the guard restraining her to the wall, and reached around with her hand to make a grab for the one with the baton. She missed him by centimeters, and the man retaliated with an overhand swing that very nearly took her head off. She leapt to the side, skittering along the ground in some kind of crab walk that looked more horrifying from her baggy clothing and unkempt look of her face and hair, and rolled to her feet, shrieking again as she made a last-ditch grab for the doctor.

She would have made it, too, if the guard she had thrown hadn't grabbed her by the ankles, causing her to trip and fall to the ground. There was an audible crack as her jaw smacked the floor and flecks of blood sprayed from her lips as her shrieks cut out sharply.

"Now!" the baton-wielding guard snarled, clambering forward and shoving the rod into the back of the girl's neck. The other guard — a woman, I realized belatedly —climbed atop her and straddled her hips, putting her knees on the girl's wrists to pin her down.

The doctor wasted no time. She strode forward and knelt down, wrenching the girl's head to the side and prying her mouth open with some sort of wooden implement. With deft movements she forced a plastic cup of pills into her mouth, covered her lips with a gloved hand, and swiped at her neck with two fingers. The girl convulsed, reflexively gagging and swallowing the medication, and that was followed up with an equally quick dosage of a milky liquid. There was minimal spillage, and just as quickly as they came, the trio retreated from the room, leaving the girl there on the ground, groaning and sputtering blood.

Then the doctor joined them again in the office, panting and red in the face, Doctor Watts frowned disapprovingly down at her. "The patient bit her tongue," he said simply.

The doctor didn't reply. The guard who had tackled her, however, shifted uncomfortably. "There wasn't any other way to stop her in time, Doctor Watts. She was rabid."

He nodded. "I am not saying you were wrong with your approach. I am simply making an observation. We will accommodate and change our approach tomorrow. We strive to have as little casualties as possible on both sides, of course."

"Of course," the woman echoed softly.

"There we have it," Doctor Watts said, turning to me with that odd gleam in his eye. "As I told you, Miss Schnee. Dangerous."

"Dangerous," I repeated quietly, but my attention was still on the girl. She had curled up into a tight ball in the center of the room, shuddering and coughing, looking not at all like a dangerous mental patient, and instead looking for all the world like she was; a teenage girl who had just taken a beating from people at least three her size.

I should have felt angry, incensed, at the injustice of it all. At the idea that this world would allow something like this. That this girl, who was even younger than me, could possibly be treated like this, with this level of brutal efficiency and calm matter-of-fact from the guards and doctors attending her.

But then I remembered her shriek at the sight of the doctor and guards. That had not been the cry of someone in pain or someone being bullied. That was the sound of someone—

"Incredibly dangerous," I said again, with feeling this time.

"Exactly," a cold voice said directly behind me.

Startled, I spun around and found myself face-to-face with a single bright gold eye. It flashed down at me with an intensity that took my breath away, and I fought hard to keep myself from stepping back. The woman it belonged to stood taller than me, dressed in a dark blouse with equally dark slacks, and heeled shoes I was honestly shocked I hadn't heard coming up behind me. A pale face framed with a black, stylish pixie cut did little to hide the trio of bright red scars that crossed her face from her temple to her nose, only broken up by an honest-to-god eyepatch that covered her left eye. I was so surprised by the sight, and the woman not one foot away from me, that I squeaked a little bit.

That single golden eye narrowed slightly. "Charming," she sneered*. Then, after letting her gaze trail down my front and back up to my face, she turned to look at Emerald.

*She wasn't sneering at Weiss per se, it wasn't personal. In actuality, Cinder Fall had pretty much cornered the market on wearing dark colors and sneering. It comprised one hundred percent of her personality. I often marveled that someone could live in the world only twenty-plus years and yet wear that much dark colors and sneer with such literal self-assurance.

"You were supposed to bring her to the offices for registration and orientation. I seem to remember that being in the opposite direction is Ward F…"

Emerald stammered out a few sounds, but Doctor Watts stepped forward. "I requested Mister Black and Miss Sustrai here for an errand. They brought Miss Schnee along because she cannot be left unattended until she is properly registered. And once they arrived, I allowed them to observe the treatment for Subject One-Oh-Oh-One-Eight-Nine." He smiled wryly. "For educational purposes, of course."

"Of course," repeated the woman caustically. She turned her head to peer at me with her one eye. "Well, I hope you learned something."

Before I could even reign in my words, I stammered, "I-I did. I... learned that there are more things here that meet the eye."

The woman regarded me for a long moment before nodding slightly. "Wise words Miss Schnee. Very wise indeed." Then, her speculative look melted into annoyance and she shot a glare to Mercury. "Well? Get moving! Get her registered before the Warden hears you brought her down here first!"

Mercury nodded, his grin easy and loose. "Sure thing Cinder. C'mon Weiss, 'Em."

Emerald walked over to me and tugged on my arm. "Let's get out of here," she whispered quietly, and as I let her lead me towards the threshold, I held my gaze with the woman — Cinder, I now knew — until the door shut firmly behind us.

As we left the room and started the walk back towards the main Wards, I caught a glimpse of the placard by the door:

Room: F-7

Name: Ruby Rose

Group: F

Visitors: N

***BY ORDER OF WARDEN: TREAT WITH EXTREME CAUTION***

0 - 0 - 0

Whitley brought Ceil over for dinner tonight. He justified it by spouting something about it being the first dinner of the new year and how it was symbolic or some such nonsense. I refused to reply; but Winter and my Father graciously accepted on my behalf. Winter at least had some measure of pity in her heart to sit beside me in solidarity, but I was too distracted to care much.

Dinner was usually quiet in the Schnee house. Even with Ciel as a guest conversation was still stifled, made even more uncomfortable because I refused to even look in her direction.

I don't think father noticed. But Winter did. And Whitley did.

The only difference tonight's supper afforded was the fact that I had something new and interesting to contribute to the discussion. After some prodding, I explained the basics of my time at Remnant Correctional Facility, and my colleagues therin. Winter asked after the Asylum herself, and a little of her history, which I explained in detail. Whitley, to no one's surprise, asked about the patients — or, 'inmates', as he referred to them, and I told them about my encounter with Velvet Scarlatina, and a little about her situation. I didn't tell them everything I had learned about her, though I did get no small amount of pleasure watching Ciel grow a little green as I described her features, and that much seemed to satisfy my little brother.

My Father asked after the warden, and seemed unsurprisingly disappointed when I told him I had not met them yet. Yet another way I have failed to meet his standards.

We broke from dinner with a surprising comment from Father that "It was good that I was getting out and doing something to distract me from my recent maudlin attitude". I had to bite my tongue to keep from responding to that.

Winter bid me a good night, and Ciel looked as though she had wanted to speak to me before being led away by Whitley to God-knows where. It's just as well. It would have been an awkward one-sided conversation.

My homework followed my bath, and at ten thirty on the dot I climbed into bed to write before sleep. My mother encouraged me to keep a journal in my youth, and ever since then it has always signaled the end of the day in my mind. It is then that I can properly focus my thoughts.

My Father. Always disappointed. Always critical.

Winter. Surprisingly supported in the smallest ways, but still distant.

Whitley and Ciel. The less said about them, the better.

Emerald and Mercury. Interesting. I was pleased to know them.

Velvet. Kind, quiet, but deeply broken.

Doctor Watts. Matter-of-fact, with a slightly sardonic streak.

Cinder. Brief, but striking in her matter and intensity.

And that girl. That small, disturbed little girl deep in the bowels of the Asylum. Dangerous, and pitiable.

Ruby Rose, her name was, if the plate by her door had been accurate.

The last thing I remember as I drift off to sleep, is her inhumane shriek.

0 - 0 - 0