Fan: Asylum

"How's he doing?

"He's not talkin' yet."

"Make sure he stays that way, at least for the time being."

" Uh, yeah, of course..."

- - - - -

The two guards walked away from the cell, headed for the cafeteria. It was break. But not for the patients.

The screams and maniacal laughter rang through the cold, iron halls of Ladder-Bridge Asylum. The sounds alone were enough to make the employees themselves need a cell. Break was by far the only enjoyable part of the job. Being a doctor, guard, or receptionist there was insanely high maintenance. One was required to be perfectly sane or risk losing it. The job payed by the minimum. Those who worked there were expected a 15 hour work day with one break. So why take the job? Only one reason

Johnny Hamilton.

Everybody endured the horrible conditions of the asylum to just get a glance at the once acclaimed 'Johnny Ghost' to be in shambles. Not even the most respected therapists and nurses could get through to him. Only his partner, who went by the same name. This 'Johnny Toast' was paid by the half-hour to talk to him. Every day, every hour it was the same result:

"He isn't speaking yet"

It is what 'Toast' would always say, and the business was starting to wonder what they were paying him for. It wasn't until they lost an employee to Hamilton via snuck-in switchblade that Toast was hired full time and full pay. Hamilton's condition went from bad to worse, worse to terrible. Every single hour he would scream at the top of his lungs about imaginary characters. Such make-believe trifles that were audible included "Acachalla, Aimee, Toliet Toucher..." But by far the most common was "Casket"

- - - - - -

John 'Toast' walked into the frigid white cell that contained the restrained Johnny Hamilton. "Come on, my friend, please snap out of it," he plead. Hamilton just looked up with bloodshot eyes, foaming at the mouth. "C-c-casket, he's c-coming out f-from inside of...inside...i-i-inside of... of....," he would mutter with a twang of insanity. John would just shake his head. He would say this all the time. John would reply "Inside of what? Inside of... who" And everytime he would answer,

"Me! It's all about me!"

But this time, he actually stood up in his straitjacket. He started into John's eyes, with a new passion. His smile got even bigger.

"''I killed them! I killed them all! Every single one of them, a year ago! With a knife!" '' He was screaming at the top of his lungs, which alerted the guards to him saying something different. After hearing him practically confess that he was guilty for the Massacre of Ladder-Bridge, they dragged Hamilton away.

All that 'Toast' could do was watch them drag him away to death row.