NationStates Jolt Archive

The wind had picked up quite abit from its soft rustle of the golden browns leafs to a brisk wind that when it touched warm cheeks they turned pink from the cold.

Crunch, swish, crunch, swish. The sky began to get darker and cold drops of liquid could be felt on her creamy pale face. A bare hand came up and wiped away the rain drop.

Crunch, crunch, swish, swish. Steps were faster now. I have got to get there before the sky pours down on me. Her steps lead down a narrow brink walkway through an endless forest of trees shedding fall colours of red, orange, and yellow, blanketing the grass and walkway. Why did they have to put the parking lot so far away? I mean come on, in the winter it bites. Shortly there after in her sight was an magnificant building. The arcitecture reminded her of an European castle with many different projections trying to soar into the sky. The foundation was quite strong. The building was made of marble and at this moment matched the gray sky. Her heels clicked on the cement stairs and she climbed her way up about thirty of them to two huge doors. The security buzzed her in. She smiled and walked down the hallway taking several turns. If I didn't know my way I could get so lost in this maze of a hospital.

The lights were dim, but she could find her way. She smiled and gave several greetings to people in the hallway. She scratched at her neck. She loved the scarf, but wool just sometimes did not agree with her skin. She looked at the frayed ends of the scarf. The colours were of bright and wonderment. There were so many different colours threaded into it, she sometimes got consumed into it. One of her patients had made it for her when the patient have been in the stage of mania. This was just another symptom of mania and she would use it in discussion with other professionals.

She stopped and the footsteps that echoed down the long narrow halls stopped and meant her with a defining silence. On the door read Dr. Violet Cassany. She put the silver skeleton key in the door and opened it with a creek. I need to get this oiled. She flicked the switch and she blinked against the bright light. Slowly her eyes adjusted and her violet eyes could focus on her office. It was a collection of her patient's pictures and crafts among bookcases spilling with books and other sources of information. She considered herself to be organized, her several steel file shelves were organized for each patient in alphabet order. But then her eyes came upon her oak desk. A smile crossed her mind, ah we all have our faults. On her desk was a computer and it counterparts, but layers upon layers of papers, articles and journals of the sort. The corner nearest the door had been cleared away for a small stack of folders, yellow. She sat down in her chair. We have admits. Her assistant must have just been here and left them. He was always early, good thing he was. She began to flip through them.

Carvell, James. Post-traumatic stress disorder. She flipped through the paperwork. Several ideas came to mind. A group called reality against the visions. This class was used for those who could be generalized with about any of the senses of hallucinations. I think I will also put him in grief treatment.

Breck, Cassandra. Visual and auditory hallucinations. Hmm...what is causing this. I think maybe we can possible evaluate for any drug usage. Assessment needed.

Carmenne, Rena. Erractic behavior. No-known-diagnoses. Assessment needed. Possible regression. Lock-down until controlled.

Ali, Aaron. Multiple personalities. Drugs? Repression? Lock-down until he can be controlled.

They would all be oriented to the hospital and the rules. Those in lock-down she would see first for a quick assessment. The others she could move into their rooms and start group therapy. She looked at her watch 20 after 8. Thomas, her assistant would be here sortly. He was never late. She knew she could count on him. He would be following/shadowing her as she did her work.

"You've got mail." A computer animated voice rang into her ears. She turned her chair slightly and moved the mouse. She went into her email. It was a memo from the administrators. She skimmed over the letter. She would be training in a new doctor by the name of Dr. Amelia Olinburg. Hmm. She is only a couple years out of school, the boys will eat her up. Possible another one comming.

A slight smile flickered on her face. She had been working as the only doctor in the hospital for three years. It would be nice to have some more physicians around to question them and see what their ideas were. I just hope this possible one will have more experience then this one.

OOC: The hospital's name is Serenity Keeper, named after Dr. Serene Ferusity, who had grew up in the house and later developed it into a hospital. The house had been built in the early 1800s and she started the hospital after everyone in her family had died of the tuberculosis. More of the history will develop in the story. Here is the actual OOC thread...
http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=370391&page=1&pp=15

Toma stepped out of the white postal jeep, and started walking along the white dotted road.
"what a pretty line" he said as he bent over to examine the dashes.
"Come along now" Cyrus told him as he started walking towards a building.
"What's in that building?" he asked
"That is going to be your new home."
Toma let out a little shout and asked if Cyrus was going to stay with him.
"I'm sorry Toma, but I can't stay with you. I will be sure to visit you, though."

They walked up to the large building, and paused at the bottom of the steps. They looked at the large building before heading up the thirty steps to the front door. As they started up the stairs the wind started to pick up and raindrops started falling. Once they reached the top they stepped inside, looked around the lobby, and sat down. After a little bit a man came out and asked Cyrus if this was Toma. He replied in the affirmative. The man asked Cyrus to step into an office so he could work out Toma's past. Before Cyrus went into the office he walked over to Toma, put his hands on his shoulders and looked him in the eye's and said "You stay here for a minute, I'm going to talk to that nice man for a minute, then I'll be back out soon."
Toma nodded his head.

Cyrus stepped into the office and began to tell him everything he knew about Toma's past. After a bit the man asked for his name.
"I'm sorry, but I can't give you my name." was the only response the man could get after a couple minutes of argueing
Cyrus then explained about the situation that brought Toma here with his Amnesia.
"We were ordered to hold down a building, in the nation of Fruity Loops, certain situations led to another and a piece of roof came down on his head. He was left unconcious for a while. He was lucky, we were the only ones to survive. After I realized he might not make it i took him to an Underground hospital where he wouldn't be found. I came back about five days later and he was alive and well, but he couldn't remember anything before the last three days. I thought it might be a temporary thing that would heal itself, but about six months later it only seemed to get worse. So here we are, I hate to see him go, but I hear you guys are the best in the field, and I only want him to lead a semi normal life, if he ever gets out of this in good health." Cyrus was at a loss of anything else to say.
"Ok", said the man who wrote down key parts of what had happened, "well, I suppose we'll take him, but be sure to come and visit him."
Cyrus got up and walked back into the lobby, followed by the man.
"Goodbye old friend," Cyrus said holding back a tear, "I'll miss you."
"Goodbye mister," Toma said, almost confused as to what had happened.

Cyrus got up and stepped outside, in the rain and walked to his vehicle, as the man brought Toma into his new room.

"You've got mail."

Grrr. That is really going to get old quick. She looked at the computer, it flashing with demize. Read me...read me...read me. She clicked on the blinking reminder and came up another memo. A new admit. Toma, amnesia not otherwise specified. She skimmed through the notes taken by the nurse. Sounds to me like dissociative amnesia, generalized. Basically clients lose memory of thier lifes. I need to take with this Toma and see if he realizes he has memory loss or if he is unaware. If he is it is more difficult to work with a dissociative fugue than generalized amnesia. She gathered her papers and began heading towards the door.

"You've got mail."

I am never going to get out of this office. She checked it once more. Dr. David Schwarzer, from Klazhnoz Asylum in Maserrat, will be arriving out of recommendation of his work. Violet's eyes widened, today he is comming. How am I supposed to look at his backround and research his work so late. She looked at her watch, five minutes had past. Well, I am not waiting for Thomas. I need to go meet Toma. She left the room and didn't bother to lock the door. She, although, was not worried that something would get stolen. There was always a worker nearby to handle any situation.

Dr. Violet arrived at where admissions was located. Normally, they have the patient spend at least a week in admissions to orient them to the hospital and until they have gone through assessments needed. They were only moved if they needed to be under more supervision, such as lock-down.

She greeted the nurse with a smile. "Is he ready to meet me?"

"He seems alittle confused. The man that brought him in was not even remembered by Toma."

"I think that is because he only remembers recent ideas, he might be diagnosed with generalized anmesia."

"That is rare."

"I know, but it only makes sense from your notes."

"I suppose your assessment might find out other things."

"Do you think he is repressing anything?"

"I do not know." The nurse looks down. "Well, he is in room 110. He is just sitting there. Maybe he will talk to you."

A wink of the eye and then she was on her way to the door. The white door had a small window and she peered in on him. He seemed to not even notice her. She knocked softly on the door and opened it.

She walked in and finally he looked up at her. She felt a vibration on her hip. Her beeper was attached to her belt of her blue skirt. She silenced it. It probably was Thomas anyway and he would sortly find her.

She used an universal sign. She smiled at him. Her deep violet eyes dimmed to a pastel colour. She sat down across from him and looked at him at eye-level. "Goodmorning, Toma. My name is Dr. Violet Cassany. Can you tell me how you came to be here?"

Thomas Wirz paused at the door and slowly opened it, he walked in his copy of Toma's file and two more. He remembered in his job description to be with Dr. Violet when she was with patients and make notes. He smiled.

"Morning Doctor, sorry I'm late, my car failed to start, tried to call you on your beeper I just got in." Thomas said.

Thomas was rarely late, only when his old 1989 Saab failed was he late. He adjusted his glasses and smiled at Violet. He sat next to her and leaned close to her.

"Thought you might want me to pull the file on Dr. David Schwarzer, so I got what I could. The other I got is for another man who is suppose to arrive today."

Thomas opened his copy of Toma's file, quickly scanned it and sat quietly next to Violet.

Violet noticed the consistant and comforting shadow of Thomas next to her, before she heard him. She was looking at Toma, she turned her head and continued to smile. Vehicles were so hard to trust that is why she got a new one every three years. She looked back to Toma.

Still not saying one word to her, she started up again, "Toma. I am Dr. Violet and this is my assistant, Thomas. He is here to help me. I need your help also. We just need to know some information about you. Can you tell us your last name?"

Her eyes never leaving Toma's she grabbed the folder on the other doctor and held it on her lap. She sat quietly and patience was her key to getting answers.

Toma had been sitting on the edge of his bed when a strange new and exciting person came in, said goodmorning, and asked how he got here.
"Hello, ma'am. I followed a man into this room, that is how I got here." Toma said after thinking about it for a little bit.
"Can you remember anything before that." Violet responded.
Toma paused and thought about it for a minute or two and finally said "Well, I remember something about a nice man, and a strange white car. But very little about anything before the car."
Suddenly a bolt of lightning cracked right outside the building, causing Toma to fall to the floor clutching his head. He rolled around with extremly painful expressions on his face. Violet got up and started asking if Toma was OK.

"Toma! we gotta get out of this building!" shouted a somehow familliar voice, as an assult rifle went off in the backround followed by a shotgun blast.
Toma peeked around looked across the Gym and saw Cyrus sticking his head out of a hole in the floor.
"CYRUS!" he shouted. As he started to get up an explosion happened behind him, causing the wall he was leaning against to fall down.

Violet called two nurses to help Toma into a bed, as he started screaming a lone and single name, Cyrus.

Rena blinked at the darkness. She had been lying there for at least an hour by now and... she was... bored.

Suddenly she grinned and stood up on the bed. With a frown of concentration she bounced gently, testing it's flexibility. No good. Ah well - whatever. She started jumping up and down on the bed, giggling. Suddenly she saw a flash of red, quilted, goldembroiderylionroseapplesmellspringscreaking

brightfiresmokeroaringfirescreamforestrunfireburningfire

She was curled up under the bed, whimpering.

Doctor Erik Morgan, PHD, Erik to his friends and clients, hummed along with the CD as he drove. James Taylor, 'nuff said.

He drove a forest green Mitsubishi Eclipse, a gift from his parents upon his receiving his PHD. Nice car, good lines. He didn't particularly care for the 'sports car thing,' much...but it had four wheels and an engine.

Unfortunately, it also had a small trunk. Luckily, he lived light. He'd liquidated most of his stuff before he left...surprising how comfortable the front seat of a Mitsubishi Eclipse was, when the alternative was the asphault.

Serenity Keeper...odd name, but then, most were. His old clinic had been 'The Happy Haus.' Not his choice of names...but the pay had been alright...for a while.

Not that he cared much about the pay, but he wasn't really a clinical psychologist, anyways. Sure, he could do it, and do it -well,- too. That -was- why he was here, after all. But his training was more in social problems..which, come to think of it, might be useful as it was, but not for counseling the patients...

The asylum was in view now, and Eric deftly slid the Eclipse into a slot. He sighed and smiled as he cut the engine and exitted the car, straightening his loose gray jacket, which he currently wore over a tight black shirt and loose khakis. It wasn't work-wear...but it was a lot more comfortable for driving.

His running shoes were stylish and expensive, he was the kind of guy who valued quality...

He didn't have a place to stay yet, but he figured something would probably turn up...if not, he'd camped in the Eclipse before...

So he walked inside. The receptionist was a nice looking girl, but he wasn't particularly interested in that kind of thing at this stage...too busy. He hadn't had much of a social life ever since he started grad school...kindof a blur, really.

"Hi, I'm Eric Morgan, the new psychologist."

"Oh! Welcome, Doctor Morgan. You'll need an ID Tag, here," she handed him the tag, "We'll get one with your picture on it to you later...'"

He nodded at this, and she continued off, "I'll just have one of the doctors come show you around, if you'd like some coffee or something..."

Eric smiled his big smile, a smile that he had refined to a fine art, and went off in the direction the receptionist indicated, to pour himself a nice cup of coffee...

Which meant he was not around to hear the receptionist buzz Doctor Cassany with the message "Doctor Cassany, the new Psychologist is here. Would you mind showing him the ropes? He's in one of the lounges, now..."

Rattattatta
Toma looked around the surrounding area and saw cars, pillars, dim lights, and asphault. HMMMM a parking garage. He then looked down at his hands and realized he was carrying an AK-47.
"Toma! Dammit! quit sleeping while your on duty!" shouted a gruff voice
"Yes sir" Toma responded less then happily
He heard a soft explosion that sounded like it came from below.
"Hey! FNG! get your ass down to 1st squad and see what that was!" yelled the same gruff voice
Toma started running down the driveway to check things out. He then saw a car that was on fire and a few men taking cover behind another. Toma opted for the cover. he dived behind the car.
Rattattatta
"What the hell happened?" Toma asked
"We were on duty right here, when four men rushed in and started firing on us. I dove behind this car, and everyone else jumped behind that one" Said a young man, of no more than 19, pointing at the burning car, "they then tossed a frag at that car, but we took all but one of them out with small arms fire, and the other is still there."
Toma then popped up over the hood and fired in a random direction and then back down.
"I didn't catch your name." Toma said
"I'm Cyrus,Whats yours," he said, realizing how young Toma looked, "By god! how old are you?"
"The names Toma, and I'm 15 next month"
Suddenly a shot was heard from under the burning car. An injured terrorist had shot the remaining man.

Violet watched as Toma was strapped to the bed struggling, and mumbling inchoherently.

In other news, Chris Schwarzer, the man convicted of the attempted murder of his father, Mr. Harold Schwarzer, has been found dead in his cell in Jesrew Asylum, Maserrat. Police are treating the case as a suicide, and are expected to close the case publicly at a press conference this afternoon…

Goddammit, Chris, what the hell happened to you? Autumn had never been David’s favourite season, and this year’s had been especially cold for some reason, perhaps a bi-product of global warning that all the environment freaks were raving about. As the dead leaves flew almost horizontally in front of the windscreen, David found little solace against the hard, cruel torment that was his life in his car radio, which had started talking about - of all the topics to choose from - his brother, now departed from this world, of course. The press of a button condemned David to the rest of the journey in silence. The wonders of modern technology, he thought to himself, as he tried to focus all his energy on warming himself up. The lack of a heater in his car made this a particularly difficult task, and he gave up just as he pulled into the car park. As the car shuddered to a halt, he sat there for a few seconds before letting out a deep sigh. It wasn’t his new job that was making him nervous, or the fact that he now had to battle the elements to even get to his new place of employment. In fact, he wasn’t quite sure why he was nervous at all. No longer a junior doctor, he had stepped into the world of senior men and women, a world where the serious took precedence over everything else. Was he ready for the step? He wasn’t sure – maybe that was what made him nervous.

He glanced over to the passenger seat, and his eyes fixed on the brown manila envelope sat there. He picked it up, opened it (only for the twenty-third time) and poured the contents onto his lap: a beeper, which he fixed to his belt, a memo of all the beeper numbers he’d ever need (all one of them – a Dr. Violet, his new boss), some sort of health and safety contract, which he had had neither the time nor the inclination to read, and so had just signed at the bottom, and a welcome note:

Welcome to Serenity Asylum. I personally wish you the best of luck on your first day here. Your office is room number 105. Just ask Rose, she’ll show you the way. Doctor Violet.

She’d even signed it herself, unlike some big bosses who just got some nobody to print their name at the bottom on the computer. David hadn’t quite woken up enough to work out if this was a good or a bad thing.

It took all of five minutes to walk from the car park to the actual building, although whether that time would have been faster had it not been for the wind was a debatable issue. David didn’t hang around to admire the architecture of the place – maybe when it was a little bit warmer. The swinging doors, probably installed to avoid injury, led through to a reception area, with very little in the way of furniture. Very Zen, he thought. A desk to his left (rounded edges, obviously) was home to a solitary woman, who David took to be the Rose mentioned in the welcome note. Rose looked nice enough – at least, she didn’t look the type to practice the Dark Arts after work. In a pale pink sweater and with her hair in a neat bun, she looked like Mrs. Claus on a good day, probably Ann Widdecombe on bad one. As David approached, she looked up from her paperback and smiled. He attempted a smile, but thought that it probably came out as a smirk of sorts. Oh well, I’ll buy her a Danish later on.

“Hi, I’m David. It’s my first day and I’ve been told you could help me find my office. It’s Room 105,” he said whilst simultaneously waving the welcome note under Rose’s nose.

“Ooh, that I can now, David,” Rose replied cheerfully. “Room 105 is just down the hallway over there. It’s numbered, so you can’t miss it really. Do you want to take the key now?” Without waiting for an answer she thrust the key into David’s hand, almost making him drop his briefcase. With a nod and a nervous smile he made himself scarce. As he rounded the corner, Rose peered after him, shook her head and got back to her Mills And Boon.

Why do they always pick the nervous types?

“Cassie, Cassssie,” came a voice from the darkness.

Cassandra Breck opened her eyes to the darkened room. She couldn’t see a thing because it was too dark for her eyes to adjust to. She knew there was a presence with her in that room, though no one else would see them.

“Come on Cassie, you gonna lie around all night?” the voice asked.

She knew who it was. “Go away Pete,” she growled.

“No,” he replied. “You wanted me here.”

In the darkness Cassie shook her head. “I’m here because of you lot,” she replied.

“No my child, you are here because of you,” came a female voice.

She knew Pete was no longer there, it was just her and this female. Cassie closed her eyes. “Eleanor,” she sighed.

“Yes child,” the woman said.

“Fucking get away from me,” Cassie yelled.

She no longer felt a presence, though she knew they would be back.

The 7.62mm round cracked past Jame's head, and he dove hard, dirt flying over his head. An explosion in the background ripped the air apart, flames licking up at the sky. It was one of the dropships. He stood up, grabbed his MA5B, and charged forward. He lept over a small rock, landing right infront of one the elites. He looked the monster in his eyes, and felt the sudden burn of a plasma sword being driven right into his chest. Blood. Pain. Heat. Darkness. Light.

Carvell shot up in his bed, covered in sweat. Third nightmare this week. He looked out the window, it was starting to get light outside. He let his legs fall off to the side of the bed, and stood. He popped his neck, and stretched. He had been in the mental hospital just over a week, it was still foriegn to him.

He found a clear spot on the floor, and went through his morning rutine of push ups and sit ups, before nocking on the door. Hopefully the gaurd would let him out today to use the weight room. As his fist came in contact with the metal, he looked over his shoulder. Bang. The fist on the door sounded like his M6B firing. Bang, again. Bang, he forced the image out of his head. Not now. Its over, he told himself. No more fighting.

Violet watched Toma with considerate eyes. She nodded to the nurse and said, "Administer ativan, following protocol. If anxiety increasing, you may increase the dosage."

Violet noticed after the shot, Toma considerably calmed down and appeared to doze off even. She doted down some quick notes.

"Dr. Violet, how long you think he will be in here?"

"Well, that all depends on how he responds to the antipsychotics I prescribe him. We will keep ativan prn, until he starts to develop coping mechanisms on his own."

She was interrupted by a vibration.

She stepped outside the room and dialed the number on her beeper.

"Doctor Cassany, the new Psychologist is here. Would you mind showing him the ropes? He's in one of the lounges, now..."

"Okay, I will be there in a minute."

Click.

Dr. Violet swung by her office and dropped off her notes. She would give them to her secretary later, once she organized her thoughts. I didn't know they would want me to give David a tour, I thought Rose would just show him his office. Oh, well. I might as well meet him. As she closed her door, her computer blinked, a new messege was waiting for her.

Just outside the closest lounge to the receptionists she was stopped by a nurse.

"Dr. Violet, good thing I ran into you. I have a question for you. Serra has been showing some increased anxiety and the girls and I were wondering if we could start her on anti-anxiety medication. What do you suggest?"

"Well, do you think it needs to be long-term or not?"

"Short-term."

"Administer ativan. Check reaction and let me know if any adverse reactions happen. You know she has a lot of allergies, we never know what else she is allergic to."

"Right."

"So, what are you doing down here so early in the morning? I thought you would be in administrations. We heard of all the new ones comming in."

"Yeah, well, we have a new doctor and I need to show him around."

"Ohh, is he cute?"

"I don't know. Does that really matter?"

Frowning, "I was just joking. Why are you so jumpy right now?"

"Sorry, no sleep last night."

"Well, there is a gorgeous guy in there right now. Go get him tiger."

"Bye Gladys, don't forget to let me know."

Dr. Violet turned to face the lounge, which she had been planning to enter until she was stopped. She found herself meeting a man directly eye-to-eye, even though she was shorter than him.

She didn't notice the coffee spill and nor did she notice she dropped several hospital manuals on the ground. All she could think about was him.

"Eric?"

(Parts of this post take place simultaneous with AtG's previous post. Like the coffee spill. Yeah, I bet we were -all- wondering about that)

Eric was pouring himself a cup of coffee when he saw somebody round the corner and enter the room, out of his peripheral vision. He looked up...and his jaw dropped.

Christ...it was -her.-

He hadn't seen her since she left for med-school...since he'd entered his PHD program. He hadn't had any time for anything but school and work...not even enough time to call -her.- His days had been up at 5:00 in the morning, maybe eat, probably not, classes and writing and researching 'till it was time to head to the clinic...

He was so shocked, that he hadn't remembered that he was pouring scalding hot coffee, until his cup overflowed and spilled all over his sweater.

He swore abruptly, set the pot of coffee aside, tossed the cup into the sink, and pulled off his sweater. Underneath that, he wore a rather tight black t-shirt, which showed off his rather...developed...upper body.

"I, uh...think so. Christ, Violet, you scared the hell out of me."

He was visibly shaken...he hadn't exactly forgotten about her, quite the opposite. He'd more of repeatedly told himself that she had moved on to bigger and better things...

He knelt down and gathered up the manuals she had dropped, and stepped forward, offering them to her...

"I, uh, it -has- been a long time...please don't hurt me."

Violet blinked repeatedly several times and grabbed the manuals and set them on a side table near a overstuffed chair. Then instincts took over when she saw the coffee and his wet shirt. She tore it off and and pushed him on the couch to lay down. She took his shirt off and looked at the underlying skin. It was red and when she touched it, it blanched. No apperant blisters.

"Hold on," she said in a motherly voice.

She was back in a flash with a tube of aloe vera gel. She squeezed some liquid gel on his skin and then rubbed it in.

"First degree. You will be okay."

She backed away and handed him a button up shirt. It was plaid and had paint smeared and dried on it. Her eyes apologized, but that was all they had.

Silence spoke more in the room then anything else. Where had he let his mind wonder these years? Guilty her mind answered back, same as where your mind has been. They both had done the same thing and she was paying for it. A smile broke out, but I am the boss now.

"You were always clumsy."

Thomas made some quick notes on Toma and what Violet had ordered. He picked up his stuff, but dropped his copy of Silence of the Lambs. He bent down and picked it up, putting it back in his jacket pocket. Thomas headed into the hall soon noticed something, Violet wasn't in the hall. Where is she? My job is an assistant, what kind am I if she keeps running off without me? He walked down the halls and stopped one of the nurses.

"Becky, do you know where Violet went?"

"I think she went that way Thomas." she said pointing down the hall.

"Thanks."

Thomas jogged down the hall into the lounge. He spotted another man with Violet and guessed him to be the other new doctors. He walked in, smiled at the pair, and poured himself a cup of coffee.

“What do you want me to do Doctor Cassany?”

He exhaled sharply as she rubbed the gel in, then took the shirt with a nod...but he didn't button it up. Call it what you like, he didn't even think about it, he just did it.

"Yup. Thas' me, clumsy. 's why you're the one who handles the needles, and I'm the one who talks to people."

He grinned rogueishly, quite a change from his 'professional' smile, but just as time-honored with him. In fact, one could go so far as to say it was one of his 'patented' qualities.

He hadn't used it for a long time, though...because he hadn't had reason to. Because that particular grin didn't help with much of anything but relations with pretty women, and he hadn't had any reason to worry about that since...

He smiled.

"So, I take it you work here, then?"

Room 105 was, strangely enough, between Room 104 and Room 107. Somebody must have forgotten about Room 106, and then realised when it was too late to do anything about it. The lock was stiff, and David had difficulty balancing his things in one hand whilst unlocking and opening the door with the other. After a few attempts, the door was open and he stumbled into his new office. It looked more like a broom cupboard. The desk took up half the available space, and what was left had been filled with cardboard boxes. The boxes were shifted into the corridor, and the desk cleaned of all the useless junk it had accumulated, including the purple bra. Once the room looked a little homier, David could finally appreciate that this was a new beginning for him. He had his own office, his own desk, his own computer…pretty much everything that he would need to live a reasonably comfortable work-life. Granted, he only had a plastic chair, but that was something that could easily be sorted.

He switched on the computer and logged on to his user account (the details of which had been written on a Post-It note stuck to the monitor). It was a little too much to ask that the computer be fast, and so after three minutes, twenty-seven seconds, the desktop had finally stopped loading. Before David had time to do anything else, that phrase familiar to all office workers came out of the speakers:

You’ve got mail!

David’s inbox automatically popped up on-screen, and the new message opened up.

David,

Still no news on Chris. Thought I had a lead when I spoke to Harry the other day, but it came to nothing. Sorry about that! Anyway, hope the new job’s going well. Call me sometime, when you’re not too busy.

Karen.

So there was still no news. There was never any news. Karen was good, there was no doubt about that, but maybe this was one of those things that would never get closure. He thought about calling her now, but decided against it. It’ll give me something to do later, he thought. Right now he needed to introduce himself to his new boss…if he could find her in this labyrinth of a building!

A young boy of 16 stood across a seemingly never-ending pathway, the area beneath him shrouded in a strange sense of darkness, before eventually enveloping the room like demon does to its prey. Nevertheless the rather tall black-haired kid proceeded to ponder thoughts silently to himself, his face rather absorbed in the usual timid ness of a scene like this portrayed.

Where am I ?.........Am I dreaming?........ He thought methodically to himself.

A short interval then proceeded to follow shortly after, as the curious kid gazed around the unknown scenery with his innocent eyes, his obvious intention of trying to annotate his presence for being their. After the initial pause in events, a reflection started to emerge across the boundless walls of the strange room, the image eventually taking on the picture of a blackhaired woman, as it became clearer to the human eye. Upon this new development, the young adult started to go into a frenzied panic of rushed words and ghostly-pale facial expressions, an obvious sign that he recognized this picture of his past.

"Mum is that you......................." He shouted frantically.
The reflection simply stared motionless at the figure, the question being answered in a stated of verbal silence.

"Mum Answer me!!......." He shouted once again in a more authoritve tone, his voice and facial expression now getting visibly irritated by the reflection refusal to talk.

After a few minutes of repetitive wording by the boy, the boy gave up solemnly, his spirit visibly broken by the non-cooperation of his so called "Mother". Then just as he was about to enter a state of depression once again the image suddenly started to take on the shape of a more horrifying scene, which would indeed most likely leave the kid eventually shockless.

Indeed the image was horrifying of irreversible measure, as when the kid appeared to drop his head in defeat the image appeared to start to spill blood from various parts of the facial features. And at first the bleeding started along the mouth of the image, although the blood drops appearing real enough by the constant dropping of droplets now engulfing the endless pathway. Despite this already horrifying scene, it only appeared to get worse as the droplets started to drop faster from the mouth, whilst blood began to fall from the eyes and the ears at a rather alarming rate. As this was happening blood continued to engulf the pathway and the young adult, both now drenched in the horrors of blood from the tainted image. But despite this setback the being started to shout to the image once again in a more stressful and panicked tone, his facial expression now becoming increasingly anxious by the blood entrenching him and his position.

"Mum....Our you ok.......?......Speak to me" He said whist now reaching for the blooded women with his tainted left hand, his thoughts obviously not expecting a reply by the image. Nevertheless the image calmly replied, the tone somewhat depressed and less-dignified.

"You let me die........You let me die"
" Mother I didn't......I really tried........" The kid shouted profusely, tears now beginning to form and run down his blood tainted cheeks as he answered.

Despite this attempt the voice continued to get progressively louder mentioning the same words...."You let me die...You let me die...."
However eventually after taking several rounds of accusations from the dying image, the kid shouted aggressively, his fists now angrily clenched, obviously enraged.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Aaron ali continued to shout as he woke and sat up, whilst almost simultaneously destroying the leather restraints that appeared to be keeping him contained.

After this brief action he sighed hard, sweat gently making their way down from the forehead as he took gentle breaths to reconsolidate his thoughts..

[I]Why was I dreaming.............who was that women...... He continued to ask to himself without a seemingly easy answer...

Finally after consolidating his thoughts he began to survey the rather secluded room, his sharp eyes noticing the very little light entering the room. As this relatively action was completed he proceeded to lay back down, his neck making a large thud with the hard-pressed bed he had inherited during his time at the asylum. Just as he did that he started to notice an almost mirror-image of himself just directly opposite him, the mysterious twin somewhat much darker by aura and facial expressions. However before Aaron could get a word in the twin spoke, a twisted grin appearing to emerge among his face as he spoke.

"Hello Aaron....What do you say about having a little fun with that female inmate we constantly see here....."

"Why do you say about me telling you to take a hike......I've already gotten into a mess once...I'm not stupid to do it again...." He said in a rather rude and arrogant tone.

"Well......You want to get better right....."

Aaron nodded at the twin slowly, his expression somewhat dismayed.

"Yeah your problem?....." He asked arrogantly once again, his eyes somewhat fixed on his mysterious counterpart.

"Well forget it......You fail to remember you killed a guy......You think they will let you out now....So why don't we relax and have some fun and treat this place like a vacation...."

"Well..I will play it your way for now....?....Just don't expect any favours...ok?"

Just as the evil twin started to answer a knock on the door was sounded, forcing him to disappear and leaving Aaron to face the onlooker who was most likely hear for a daily checkup. He also knew that despite the conversation they had, their was no way they could hear due to the isolated status of the room,which was no doubt designed to make sure inmates could not communicate with each other during solitude.

(ooc: Sorry for wait iv'e been away.......Amanda I expect you can reply to this or w/e)

The private security van wound its way along the quiet carriageway in the weak November sun. A slight chill had caught in the breeze, and the driver had long since wound up his window and switched on the heating as he scanned the road ahead for the turn-off he was looking for. In the seat next to him, the Security Officer yawned, shifting a little in the seat as she dozed to the constant sound of the engine.

Eventually they found the turn marked with a sign stating simply ‘Hospital, 1 mile’ and the driver slowed the vehicle and indicated right before joining the narrow, leafy access road towards their destination.

The guard riding shotgun awoke as the vehicle swerved, blinking a couple of times and stretching with a groan. “We nearly there yet?” She asked in a bored tone.

The driver nodded. “About five minutes now.” He glanced over his shoulder in a hesitant manner. “Better get ready, Ma’am,” he said.

The woman nodded and reached down towards the foot well, bringing back an AR15 Assault Rifle. Checking the clip, she pulled back the loading bolt and checked her sight. “I hate this part,” she muttered, glancing at the driver. “Seems like such a nice guy.”

The driver snorted. “Uh-huh.” He gently braked as they past a sign stating “Serenity Keeper Psychiatric Hospital” and the large main gates came into view.

The autumn foliage was strewn delicately across the large front lawn in front of the immense house as the driveway arced around the lawn to meet the front of the mansion. Rolling to a halt, the two security officers climbed out of the cab and walked around to the back of the vehicle.

“You ready?” The driver asked as he punched in the four-digit unlocking code. The keypad bleeped and the light turned from red to green and the man reached for the locking bolt.

The woman Guard stepped back and took aim with the AR15 at the closed door. “Okay, let’s get this over with,” she muttered.

The Driver nodded and slid the bolt back, stepping back quickly and opening the door.

The Guard tensed a moment, waiting a few seconds. When nothing happened, she relaxed a little and lowered the barrel. “Okay Jack, come on.”

There was a shuffling noise, and a young man blinked a few times in the sunlight as he stepped out of the truck. He was wearing a black jumpsuit and had his hands cuffed behind his back. He paused, looking around as if to assess his surroundings before the Guard inclined her head towards the main door. “Let’s go.”

They entered the air-conditioned reception room as three pairs of shoes clacked across the tiles to the main desk. The assistant behind the desk looked up from his typing and blinked in surprise at the scene.
The Driver leaned against the desk. “Yeah, we’re with Diamond Security; you should be expecting a passenger from us?”

The man nodded, looking for a few seconds longer at the shackled man. “Right,” he said, recovering a moment later and accessing his computer files. “Yes, we’re expecting somebody.” He looked up. “So, this is Mr. Clausewitz?”

The Driver nodded with a grin. “Yeah, the guy’s been a pain in the neck for thirty miles.” He looked across at the handcuffed passenger. “Glad to be rid of him, to be honest.”

The Guard sighed, and shouldered the rifle before unlocking the man’s handcuffs. “Well, if you could just sign the transfer and then we’ll…”

She was cut off just as the handcuffs snapped open and the passenger elbowed her in the face. She stepped back instinctively and felt the rifle leave her shoulder. “Ah!” she yelled, recovering her stance. “You son of a-” She stopped in mid-sentence once more as she stared down the barrel of the AR-15.

The Passenger stared down the sight at her, standing stock-still. “Jack von Clausewitz, Serial number three six two alpha.” He hefted the rifle. “Surrender any weapons you have.”

The Guard raised both arms instinctively. “Hey, easy buddy-”

“Shut up!” Jack snapped angrily. He looked wildly between the two security officers. “Now, you’re going to drive me to the border so I can get extracted.”

The man behind the counter pushed the silent alarm under his desk, which alerted the hospital security. The Driver stepped forward. “Look mate, we’re just doing our jobs,” he said nervously. “Just put the rifle down and we can talk about this.”

Jack looked across at him. “von Clausewitz, serial number-” He stopped suddenly, arching his back and dropping the rifle before slumping down against the side of the desk, breathing heavily.

The receptionist breathed in relief, dropping the Taser he kept in the desk drawer for these occasions. A moment later, a pair of orderlies burst through one of the doors. The receptionist looked up, then back down at the man. “Better secure him quickly before he recovers,” he said before signing the patient transfer sheet and reaching for the telephone. “I’ll let the doctors know he’s here.”

Lou walked through the halls of Serenity Keeper, clad as always in a surgical mask, gloves, and in a pair of goggles. In his arms he carried his only friend, Humphrey the elephant. If one were to look at Lou's pachaderm friend, they would see that the elephant was indeed old, but not dirty or frayed in any way.

"C'mon buddy, lets go back to the room." Lou mumbled. Humphrey responded only with his customary silence, with which Lou translated as agreement. He passed a few people as he made his way down the hallway to his room. He had insisted on having his room on the ground floor, knowing fully well how the floor on one of the upper floors might give out and cause him to fall to his death. No matter what the doctors said, he was utterly conivinced. He opened the door to his room. He closed the door, locked it, and took off his mask, gloves and goggles.

Looking at his mirror, he noticed that he would need to shave again. He was absolutely petrified of shaving, understanding perfectly how it was possible for him to cut himself, maybe even in the jugular. But if he didnt shave, he might swallow his beard in his sleep, closing his airways...

Lou shivered. Death. When Lou was three, he watched his father die from choking on a piece of steak. Only a year later, he saw his great aunt die of a heart attack. In fact, in his young life, Lou witnessed at least 5 deaths of close friends and family members. Lou spent his entire life trying to keep the last person he had left, his sister Toria alive. This didnt work as when Lou was 20, Tori shot herself to end the depression from a bad breakup. Lou had to watch her die and cleaned up the mess. From that point on, Lou's obsession with death drove him over the edge.

He couldnt go outside-too many germs, UV rays, and wild beasts run amok. He always wore his strange apparel to 1. keep possible enemies away and 2. to keep out germs. He couldn't fall in love, he was afraid of the repercussions of breakup and besides, the excitement of sex might cause his heart to explode. Doctors had tried to tell him that these things never happened, that the world was safe. Lou tried to believe, but...what if they were wrong? Human beings arent infallible...

Lou sighed as he lay on the special mat he slept on. No cots for him to fall off of and break his head, no blankets to strangle him. Just a soft mat on the floor. Holding Humphrey, Lou entered sleep, but not too deep, he didnt want his heart to stop.....

"Ah, Tomas. Come here and meet our new doctor. This is Erik Morgan, he has a PHD. Erik, this is my assistant."

She smiled as they exchanged greetings. How odd this felt, to have him in her eye sight again. Not that she didn't think of him, but she never imagined he would come back to her.

"Well, Erik, I do work here. Strangely enough you will have to answer to me. I am also the CEO of the hospital and all therapies need to go through me before execution. I know this will be tough, but the benefits are great."

A soft hum and a vibration. "Excuse me for a moment." She went to a nearby phone. Phones had been placed in every room, except patient's rooms and in the hallway for anything that was bound to happen. She dialed the receptionist desk.

"This is Violet. You called."

A male's voice was on the other line, must be Bob. "Seems we have a situation down here. We have that new patient come in and play a game. He is stabalized and in shut-down #1."

"Are you sure about that room number, what exactly happened?"

"Well, he tried a stunt to get out and we tased him. Put him in there cause he came with Diamond Security."

"Oh, they will need to stay and fill out a report."

"They already did. I have them waiting to talk to you. I didn't see any papers on his history. I figured you wanted to ask them questions towards all that stuff."

"Thanks Bob."

"No, prop. Want me to tell you will be done here?"

"Yeah and I am bringing the new doctor."

"Erik?"

"Yes."

Click. Seems nothing goes as she planned.

She just hoped she got to her scheduled things on time. She was to run up to the Penn, about 30 miles away and interview an immate and see if he to be institutionized on her recommendation (The eternal-dragons' character). Then when she returned around 5, she was to meet with Lou. This was one of her favorite patients that have been here for awhile. She was just to reassess how he was functioning and just make sure she had time to spend with him. With everything that was happening recently she didn't have time to talk to him and see how therapy was going.


"Okay, boys look like we go down to lock-down wing. Erik, I will have to give a tour later. The update is we have someone in shutdown #1. Erik, basically this is a box with hole in it, for elimination reasons and a window for us to have one-on-one observation. It is in our lock-down wing. We normally don't have to use it, but for severe cases. Seems we have a new patient who likes to copy others. He came with Diamond security and I do not know the whole story yet. So, Thomas, this means we take a lot of notes from the guards. Bob, said he didn't see any papers for diagnoses or assessment done on him. The name is Jack von Clausewitz, I am not familar with it. You guys?"

They walked down the hallway and headed for the front door entrance. Bob was standing there with two guards.

"Hello, my name is Dr. Violet Cassany and this is Thomas Wertz, my assistant. Next to me is Dr. Erik Morgan. Can you tell us of what we are dealing with. I haven't receieved any information on Jack; sometimes there is a long delay when information is sent."

The blows became closer together, as could the shouts. "You gotta let me outa here! They're comming!" Carvell screamed, praying the door would open. He was haivng another flashbakc, this one the worst. In his mind, he wasn't in a hospital room, but on the brig of his ship. He didn't know why he was there, but all he could see was approaching forces, all ready to kill, ake no prisoners.

"I need to get out, we need to fight them!" he screamed, slamming his fists harder on the door.

He saw the enemy troops land, and start moving through the ship. He was beyond the point of using the one or two therapy sessions he had had by now, fully convinced that his life was soon going to end. He banged harder on the door. "I need out!" he shouted again.

The person known as Aaron finally began to speak, after the knocking slowly came to a halt.

"Who the f*** is it....?" He responded in a rather rude manner, the sort that would often get put down as insolent and outrageous. But he knew he was a prisoner, and this was the time to have some fun and let his evil side take over, but little did he know the events he would eventually lead himself into.

When Toma came to, 45 minutes later, he found he was strapped to a bed. The bed was like any other bed, it had white sheets, a white blanket, grey metal head and foot boards. But the one thing that was different about it, was that it had three leather straps securely fastened around his chest, waist, and knees. Toma looked around the room as much as his neck would let him. He saw a small room with off white colored walls, a small desk, and a small chair. He thought it looked like a hospital room.
"Hello!?" Toma said in a loud, but soft voice.
Toma waited a few minutes before sounding out again.

This time a man dressed in a white smock with matching pants came in.
"Can you take these straps off sir?" Toma asked
"Hold on a second, let me see," said the nurse, before rushing out of the room to ask his supervisor.
Toma started thinking about what had happened, but drew a blank.

The two guards had been held at reception for a few minutes in order to fill out an incident report. The female Guard nodded as she appended her signature to the document before nodding to the driver to do the same.

“Think this is going to look bad for us in our report?” The driver mumbled as he finished writing and turned to his superior.

The Guard shrugged. “I honestly don’t care; I’m just glad he didn’t try anything earlier on in the journey.”

The driver sighed, leaning against the reception desk again. “Yeah, we could have been in the-”

They were both interrupted as the main door to the rest of the hospital swung open and a party of three staff walked in. The woman leading the group stopped in front of them and nodded politely.

"Hello, my name is Dr. Violet Cassany and this is Thomas Wertz, my assistant. Next to me is Dr. Erik Morgan. Can you tell us of what we are dealing with? I haven't received any information on Jack; sometimes there is a long delay when information is sent."

The female Guard nodded back. “Hello, I’m Sarah Devoire and my colleague is Sam Farrow. As for Jack…” Sarah glanced at Sam. “…well, we haven’t got that much information on him either.”

Sam reached into his pocket and unfolded a report that was headed with the symbol of the United Nations. “We got hired on behalf of the UN Refugee Relocation Program to transport this guy from where he was being held in the Congo.”

“Thing is,” Sarah cut in. “He isn’t a refugee that we know of, but the UN classified as such because even they aren’t too sure.”

Sam handed the report to Doctor Cassany. “All that is known is on there,” he said. “The man was found in the town of Kindu asking his way to the border. UN Peacekeepers in the area said he seemed confused and dehydrated.” Sam frowned “He kept asking his way to the border.”

Sarah rubbed her neck. “Anyway, he seemed to get frustrated at the people’s inability to tell him where the border was, and he, ah…” she cleared her throat. “He opened fire on a crowd with an M16.”

Sam nodded sombrely. “Report says he shot twenty-five people before UN Peacekeepers wounded him and took him into custody.” He scowled at the staff. “In my opinion, he’s a lunatic.”

Sarah frowned at Sam before turning back to the Doctor. “Thing is, that was also the opinion of the UN, who committed him here.” She shrugged. “Respect to the man, but he doesn’t seem quite…there.” She looked between the three staff. “Will only tell us his name and a serial code, so I think he may be military of some sort.” She looked around them again. “Is there anything else?”

Rena blinked and tried to sit up, banging her head on the underside of the bed. "what..."

She coudn't understand why she was under the bed, and crawled out carefully. Where was she? She examined her surroundings intensely for a few seconds, and then-

"Ooooh, pretty!" She plopped down on the ground and began examining a crack in the wall with great apparant artistic interest.

Erik frowned as he rolled the details over in his head. Not 'all there.' Yeah. Sure. Book said PTSD, Erik said 'need more information, but first guess is 'shell-shock.'

Even the name seemed to support it. 'von Clausewitz.' Evoked Carl von Clausewitz, author of 'On War.' Which led Erik to consider the possibility of 'von Clausewitz,' being a cover identity, which brought him to the possibility that they were dealing with a cracked Special Forces type...

Which was what caused the muscles in his arms to tighten just a bit...

He mentally cursed himself and ordered himself to relax...he was undoubtedly just shooting at shadows...but the possibility irked him. Nonetheless, he set it aside and returned to the matter at hand...

There were certain techniques one could use in cases like this...techniques that Erik probably shouldn't even be considering...but he had made a study of military interrogation techniques, because they fascinated him, and because sometimes they were useful...

Regardless, more information was definately required before he took -that- line of thought to its inevitable conclusion...

He smiled slightly...the best way to acquire information was to speak with the patient...which would undoubtedly be 'dangerous...'

Unless one took into account the rather nicely developed muscles on his currently bare chest. Or if one noted that all his muscles were -hard.- Because he had grown up in a bad area...and his escape had been martial arts.

Not Karate or any of the other more common things...his martial art always had been and always would be Muay Thai. Further, Muay Thai had been his art since he was a young kid, at this point, his arms and legs were deadly weapons...

But more on that when necessary, he instead turned his attention to Violet.

"Well, what do we do now? Go talk to the poor bastard, or shoot him?"

Violet did not respond to Erik, as of now, she was used to his wise crack remarks and this woud be no different. She instead looked to the guards. "Thank you. I will keep in touch with both of you. I will need to know more, but first comes from the source himself. Goodday."

She turned to Erik, a bit of annoyned look was on her face. "Please, do not remark about the clients infront of others in such a manner. I run this place on professional attributes. Well, frankly you could use better terminology. You right. We shall question him first. Would you like to question him? Or shall I make the first impression on him?" It was good now to collaborate with another on decision making, plus she did trust Erik despite his behavior in the working atmosphere.

Toma started trying to think about all that had happened while he was knocked out, but all he could think of was bright lights


OOC: this is more to see if everyone quit, because I was enjoying it, just like the thread i based this character on. But then that thread died because the person never responded if you wanna check it out http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=367236

OOC: Lol it was a good thread ....

OOC: Lol it was a good thread ....
This or the other one or both?

OOC: I plan to continue with this. I have just been really busy with school. I have two finals next week and then I plan to get the flow to increase with this one.